#and he looked into the future and decided that one day there would be a Scarlett witch figure that would use the Darkhold

[luxcuriousao3]

I've been messing around lately, writing Ghost in different ways to see which rings most true to his character (in my opinion). I wouldn't say that it does ring true for me in this one (then again this one did spawn from my stalker!Ghost thots, tho this fic isn't part of that universe), but I decided to post it anyway. So this little ficlet, despite being xReader, is more of a Ghost character study than anything else. This characterization is definitely experimental, and leans into the "Ghost and Simon are separate personalities" headcanon. No smut, but still NSFW.

Ghost x general's daughter!Reader

You were the daughter of some aging General, a balding, pot-bellied man on his way out, an honorable discharge in his near future. You’d come to visit him on the base, a tray of gooey brownies held firmly in your hands, two hot cocoas balanced on top, and a visitor’s badge pinned to your chest.

Initially, Ghost hadn’t taken much notice of you. Pretty thing, would be easy to kill, was his first impression. A casual, fleeting thought that he paid no attention to but made Simon shudder. There had been a time that when Ghost was in control, Simon was entirely unaware. He would come to and hours could have passed, sometimes days, or, on one particularly grueling campaign, even weeks. It was how he knew there was something evil lurking inside him. But in the desert, all was revealed, and Simon and Ghost were irrevocably tangled up in one another, the same but not, like two different sides of a single coin.

It wasn’t until you walked straight into his firm, broad chest and spilled the scaldingly hot drinks on him that he really noticed you.

Clumsy fuckin’ bird, Ghost thought angrily as he grunted in pain. Should break your bloody wings.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” You chirped, looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes. He waited for you to flinch and look away when you saw his mask, but you didn’t. You just shifted your tray of brownies to one hand, the other fluttering uselessly over his soaking wet chest for a few seconds, before you grabbed the hem of your dress in a panic and lifted it up to try and dry him off with it.

Your dress was long, long enough to keep you from flashing him entirely, but he still caught an eyeful of your legs, even a glimpse of your plush thighs. At least until you realized what you were doing and dropped your dress again with a squeak of embarrassment, cheeks reddening.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated earnestly, as Ghost stared down at you in bemusement. It wasn’t often he was shocked by someone’s behavior, but you were just so odd. It was, admittedly, amusing. Watching you squawk and try to smooth your ruffled feathers was like watching someone who’d tried to kill him choke on their own blood. Entertaining. Satisfying. Vaguely erotic.

“Are you okay?” You finally remembered to ask, reaching out to touch him again, as if to check him over. Ghost’s hands shot up, one wrapping around your wrist in a firm grip, the other moving to stop your dessert tray—which was tilting dangerously—from falling. He could feel your pulse thrumming beneath his finger tips, and the warmth of your skin seeped through his glove.

“M’fine,” he said shortly, voice deep and grumbly but not as hostile as usual. Simon’s influence, no doubt. Ghost almost rolled his eyes. His other half always banged on and on about treating ladies with proper respect. Ghost wasn’t particularly interested in sex with other people, preferring to fuck his own fist if the urge grew too great to ignore, but he thought about bending you over right here in this hallway and bullying Simon’s big cock into you, just to spite him.

“Oh! Thank you,” you said with a charming smile, entirely ignorant to the image he’d conjured up of you. One he found himself enjoying more than he’d thought he would. “I really am sorry,” you said for the third time, like a parrot echoing itself. Little bird indeed. “I’m such a klutz. Except for when I’m dancing. Then I’ve got at least a modicum of grace.”

Beneath his mask, Ghost raised a brow. Had he mistakenly given off the impression that he cared?

His silence was pointed, and you flushed deeper. You pushed the tray of brownies towards him, seemingly unphased by the grip he still had on it and your wrist. He let go.

“Go ahead, take it,” you said encouragingly, holding out the treat insistently. “It’s the least I can do to make up for ruining your shirt… I can always make more for Daddy another day.”

Simon’s cock twitched, and this time the dirty thoughts in their head were entirely his. Though Ghost could admit the thought of you calling him Daddy in that sweet little voice of yours, all innocent and sincere, was appealing. Perhaps there was something attractive about fucking another person after all.

“Don’t want any,” Ghost answered after a moment, and your face fell. But instead of taking his words for the dismissal they were, you perked back up and continued talking.

“Do you not like brownies? I can make you something else and come back tomorrow,” you offered, for some unknowable reason. Both Simon and Ghost were astounded the conversation had lasted this long, and worse yet, showed no signs of ending. “I can make lemon bars, white chocolate truffles, pudding, anything you’d like.. But nothing too fancy.” You giggled. No one had ever giggled in Ghost’s presence before. “I’m no professional baker. I just do it when the mood strikes, or when Daddy is craving something sugary. He’s the one who taught me to bake. Oh! Do you have any allergies? Nuts, gluten, anything? I don’t want to poison you…”

And on and on you went, rambling like Ghost was actually listening to you. Except that he was. Perhaps it was cruel curiosity, wanting to see how long you’d carry on making a fool of yourself. Or maybe it was Simon pitying you for the nerves in your voice, not wanting to interrupt you and make you more anxious. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the fact that you were showing Ghost more kindness than he had ever received in his life.

Simon had experienced the joys of living, of companionship and love. Ghost had not, though he’d seen it all through their eyes. He hadn’t really thought that he was missing out on anything.

But now, with a lovely little dove like you offering to bake for him—not Simon, but Ghost—he thought he maybe he was, if just a tad. Especially if your pussy tasted as sweet as your baked goods smelled.

[cherrycranes]

Real Cowgirls Ride (Emmett x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader Summary: When you go to a bar in upstate New York with your girlfriends for a bachelorette party, you encounter a hot rugged man who´ll teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl. Word count: 4,248 Contents: (Minors DNI). No apocalypse AU. Age gap (Reader is 24, Emmett is 39), Oral sex (fem receiving), a little bit of ass licking (fem receiving), fingering, P in v, protected sex! Author's notes: Once more, a collab with @fuckiingloser cause that's my wifey. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy the ass licker.

It was the first time you ever stepped a foot in this rural upstate New York town. Certainly an interesting choice for a bachelorette party, but your friend: the bride, and her future husband had grown up here. It was nice, though. A very appreciated change of scenery from your busy downtown New York City life. It had been a 3 hour drive to get here, and you planned to just have a good time.

The party had a cowgirl theme and you had gone all out: a borrowed pair of red cowgirl boots that you had never imagined wearing in your life, a pair of dangerously tiny Daisy Duke jean shorts and a white cropped t-shirt that said “Budweiser” across the front. All topped with a matching cowboy hat sitting on top of your head. Your girlfriends showered you with compliments, you played the part so well.

It was around 11:30 pm now, and after several stops of the bar crawl, you all walked into a smoky, dark dive bar. The neon signs gave the entire room a dull glow. It was moderately full, mostly with old blue collar men tired from a long day's work. Some of them gave your group a few stares that only your tipsy state managed to ignore. You had come here for fun, and that’s what you would have. 

You got a big table, ordered some drinks and shots and cheered for the bride, wishing her all the best with the love of her life. And, in secret, you hopelessly wished that you would find yours too… You were painfully single at 24 and your only one previous boyfriend had cheated on you after a year of dating. You were still young but loneliness stung.

To distract yourself, you ordered a few more shots and just went along with the vibe of the bar and your friends’ laughter. Some moments later, you wandered over to the old school jukebox that sat alone on a dark corner to flip through the endless pages of song options. Some you knew, some you didn’t, and one you picked before a rugged voice behind you interrupted you:

“Excuse me, miss...” You turned to look. “I just have to have a look at these fancy red cowgirl boots up close...” The man in front of you said with a charming little smirk and with his baby blue eyes looking down at your feet, then at your legs, your body and, eventually, meeting your eyes. 

You looked him over too, with his plain white t-shirt, blue wrangler jeans, dusty work boots, scruffy beard with a few silver strands in it and a ball cap with some brown curls peeking out underneath it. Quite handsome. His little excuse to come over and talk to you was pathetic but cute, it had made you smirk a little. And when you looked into his beautiful eyes and saw that pretty smile again, you decided to give him a shot.

“Honestly… My buddies over there were givin’ me a hard time and said that I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t say something to the pretty girl in the red cowboy boots...” He gestured over to his friends in the booth in the other corner who gave you a wave and smile. You turned back to look at him, and gave yourself the luxury of eyeing him up and down again. He was definitely older than you, but not exactly old enough to be your father. He must have been in his early 40’s at most. He was sort of rugged, most likely a blue collar man. Some tattoos poked out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. He was not the type of guy you were used to encountering in New York City. “I'm Emmett..” He smirked, and you chuckled a bit at his words.

“Hate to break the news but I borrowed these from a friend… I’m not a real country girl.” You admitted with a smile. Emmett laughed softly and leaned against the almost forgotten jukebox.

 “Well… They look good on you either way… That’s for sure…” He looked over your body once more, shameless infatuation irradiating from him. His boldness made you smile again, and admittedly, it also turned you on. Like clockwork, the first notes of the song you picked started to play and Emmett gave you an approving smile.

“Good choice… You’ve got good taste obviously… Would you like to dance, beautiful?” He asked, his voice like velvet in your ears. You felt a sweet heat rush to your cheeks and you nodded.

“I'd like that.” You smiled and he took your hand with a gentleness that was to die for, pulling you closer and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. In return, you wrapped your arms around his neck and followed him along. Butterflies flew in your stomach like they hadn’t in so long when his arms tightened around you.

You chatted a little, dancing slowly in the middle of the dive bar with his rough hands rubbing the exposed skin of your back. In the background of the slow song, you could make out the voices and giggles of your friends who must have been staring in amusement and support. 

In between the small conversations and the dance, you found out Emmett owned a farm nearby. Mostly horses and some crops. You also found out he was 39 years old. Never married, currently single. Then it came time for questions about your life, your work, your age, where were you from…

“Ahh, so you’re a city girl, makes sense… Never seen someone as hot as you around here before...” Emmett whispered, still swaying with you and still holding you tight. You blushed, something not everybody did to you, but there was something about him. His looks, his charm, his rough hands. You couldn't help yourself.

Guided by that feeling, you kept talking. Now telling him about your failed relationship, your cheater ex-boyfriend and your 8 month-long singlehood. Emmett’s brow furrowed upon hearing that.

“Fuckin’ asshole… Who would ever wanna lose you? You need a real man… Not a little immature boy..” He whispered, shaking his head gently and tightening his tattooed arm around you ever so slightly, just for the butterflies in your stomach to go even wilder. 

Your song ended and the jukebox went silent. Emmett immediately asked to buy you a drink, and how would you even say no? Next thing you knew, you were sitting on a barstool with him standing in front of you, a hand on your thigh making you swoon. He leaned over to order, the scent of his almost worn-off cologne sending more heat towards the right places.

“Two miller lites please, thanks.. ” The bartender cracked open two beers and pushed them towards Emmett. He handed you one along with a sly smile, his other hand still on your thigh.

“Well… Cheers to a good night that I'm hoping gets even better.” Emmett held his drink up to yours and clicked them together with a nice melodic sound. 

“Cheers.” You chuckled, arousal pooling in your lower abdomen and burning steady for the entire time you and Emmett talked and flirted in between sips. Some guilt crept up on you at having practically abandoned your girlfriends, but every quick glance towards them made you find them winking and putting their thumbs up. So you focused back on Emmett, laughed at his jokes, touched his arm, gave him your best smile…

“Can’t believe a pretty girl like you is interested in an old man like me.” He rubbed his hand softly on your exposed thigh, and you couldn't help but let out a sincere chuckle.

“You're hotter than any guy I've met in the city by a million honestly… A real man who works with his hands and knows what he wants and isn’t shy about it…” Every word of yours was soaked in a sensual tone and your eyes never looked away from him now. He had the most beautiful pale blue eyes you had ever seen, his pupils were long dilated from looking at you, and they seemed to get even more when he heard you talking like that.

“Well, you sure know how to flatter a guy… I’ve gotta say you’re one of the sexiest things I've ever seen.” Emmett leaned in to whisper into your ear, his lips giving you a featherlight touch. “My hands aren’t the only thing I’m good with…” His warm breath sent a satisfying shiver down your spine. “And I do know what I want… I wanna see what’s underneath this little crop top and these tiny jean shorts…” 

Your breath hitched ever so slightly, the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. His rough hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh firmly, the sensation, along with his words, going straight to your core and now dampened panties. 

It was 12:45 am now, the clock upon the wall ticked in front of Emmett’s eyes with an eager question. 

“It's getting pretty late… Whaddya say you come home with me tonight… And I can teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl?” He whispered through a seductive smirk, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and effectively making your clit pulse. You bit your lip, took in the pale blue of his eyes and leaned a bit closer.

“You wanna be my teacher?” You asked him, holding his gaze. Emmett nodded before taking a swig of his beer, finishing it and putting it on the bar.

“I'm sure a girl like you could teach an old dog like me a few tricks too…” 

Your smirk turned into a grin before his eyes and your wet pussy fluttered again. God, he was so smooth and beyond sexy. The kind of man you needed.

“Take me home cowboy.” You whispered, ripples of arousal traveling around your body as you watched Emmett pull out his wallet and slap a 20 dollar bill on the counter to cover for your drinks and tip, before taking your hand like a gentleman.

Your girls cheered when they saw you walking out with him, and you so graciously gave them a playful middle finger that made them laugh out loud.

Emmett held the door open for you and all the exposed parts of your body felt the cool summer breeze of the night air. Not for long though, his truck was just a few steps away, and as the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you and helped you in. The inside was rather cozy, an air freshener hung from the rear-view mirror along with a, quite fitting, tiny cowboy hat charm. You flicked it with your finger as Emmett got in the driver’s seat. 

“Before we leave...” He started, leaning over the center console. Before you could ask him anything, his lips met yours in a hot, sensual kiss. Inevitably, your hand reached up to touch his beard, and you delighted with the taste of beer and faint mint gum in his mouth.

“Wow… All this is yours?” You asked softly, admiring the vast space bathed in starlight.

 “Sorry, I just had to… Couldn’t wait another minute.” He whispered against the softness of your lips, forming a smile. He sat back in his seat and started the truck up, making it roar to life. His left hand held the wheel and his right hand found his new favorite spot: your thigh. Soft rock born from his radio barely made noise as he drove you down the mostly empty country roads to his home nearby. You raised both eyebrows when an old farmhouse and several barns came into view.

“It is indeed, pretty girl.” Emmett smiled, pulling up next to the house and getting out of his truck, this time helping you out of it, upholding the true gentleman behavior. 

His arm wrapped around you once again, his body warmth fighting for you against the chill summer night’s breeze. You smiled when the front door opened for you and you were the first to step foot inside the cute little farmhouse. It was rather lovely, perhaps too minimally decorated but it was to be expected, he was a 40 year old man living alone. You seemed to be the most feminine thing in this house. 

“I love it… So cozy.” You leaned against the kitchen counter, attracting Emmett to you. His hands found your hips and he looked down at you with that flirtiness that made your pussy wetter. 

“You haven’t even seen the bedroom yet.” He whispered, closer and closer to you until another sensual kiss captured your lips. Your mouth gave his skillful tongue entrance and with a delicious groan he picked you up easily. Your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands supported you by holding your ass. He swallowed a moan from you and walked you both across the house, towards the stairs and into his bedroom. There, he laid you down on his big bed, his lips reluctantly leaving yours for air.

You propped yourself up to your elbows, granting him a visual feast for his eyes to devour. Your exposed midriff, your little shorts and those cute little red boots. Since your cowboy hat had been lost somewhere on the way to his bed, your hair was slightly messy, and your lips glistened from his saliva. He didn’t know where to begin with you. 

“Fuck, you’re sexy…” He admired you, reaching down to pull one of your boots off, then the other one. Both joined his wooden floor. “I need to see this perfect body naked for me…”

You giggled, his hands now occupied themselves with your jean shorts. In a couple of seconds they also met the floor.

“Would ya look at that…” Emmett let out a flirty whistle upon seeing what you hid underneath the denim: a little red thong that made his cock twitch in his jeans, another reminder of how painfully hard he was. His calloused thumb didn’t resist and ran over your clothed pussy, slowly making its way between your folds and marveling at the feeling of the damp fabric. He growled in approval. 

“Someone’s wet…” He looked into your eyes and you felt a rush of blood divide itself to reach both your cheeks and your needy cunt. You bit your lip, your body ablaze.

“Flip over for me, baby… Face down ass up.” He ordered after playing with you over your panties a little bit. You, incredibly turned on and obedient to any sexy command he could throw your way with that deep voice of his, didn’t even think about it twice.

“Yes, Sir.” You played along, flipping over for him with your ass in the air and your cheek against the duvet cover. 

“Fuuuck…” He groaned at the sight. You knew very damn well your little thong was covering absolutely nothing from behind. “I wanna make sure this little pussy is prepped for my lesson…” he said, peeling the thong off you slowly. 

Anticipation pooled at your cunt, the flimsy red fabric left your body with his help. Once you were free, Emmett palmed both your asscheeks and spread them slowly. He moaned at the sight of your glistening pussy and tight asshole, all fully waxed.

“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ…” He breathed out, feeling his heart skip a beat. “I could come just looking at you…” He whispered just inches away from your needy cunt.

You moaned softly at his words, feeling completely exposed yet so turned on. Nothing else could matter to you anymore.

“Please...” You whimpered so needily, he couldn’t resist leaning in and letting his tongue slide between your slippery folds. A guttural groan of his made your pussy reverberate, the taste of you on his tongue so addictive, so divine.

“Oh my god…” Now, you moaned. Emmett’s hot tongue licked a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your ass, flicking against it. The sensation was so good you could barely comprehend it.

You moaned over and over, his thick fingers pumped in and out of you in a slow but firm motion. He watched hungrily as your tight cunt took them in so easily and so greedily.

“You taste like honey…” He purred to our flesh before spitting on your pussy, his saliva slowly dribbling down between your lips and making him groan in approval. Two of his fingers gathered some of that spit on them before circling your aching hole, slowly pushing inside of you from behind. 

 “Fuck… Feels so good…” You spoke in between moans that only got louder when Emmett curled his fingers inside you, hitting that special spot. “Holy fuck…” 

The louder you moaned, the faster his thick fingers moved and curled. Your eager pussy had his index and middle fingers completely wet and glistening.

“That feels good, pretty girl?” He asked with a smirk. “Gotta make sure this little pussy is ready to ride my big cock…” he growled hungrily. 

“I-I’m ready… Please…” His pumping fingers had you bucking your hips in desperation and stuttering, almost out of your mind. Emmett loved every single detail about it, you looked just so beautiful when you were this horny and needy. Mercifully, he pulled his fingers out of your begging cunt and slowly brought them to his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.

“Flip over, baby.” He commanded, the sound of the zipper of his jeans making your ears perk up. You did as he said, catching the glimpse of his pants hitting the floor and his shirt being pulled over his head. He tossed it aside, the view of his toned, hairy chest and arms, along with those sexy tattoos of his made your pussy feel even more needy. Your eyes feasted on him, from his chest to his hard on in his briefs.

“I think you’re ready for your lesson…” Emmett crawled onto the bed and laid on his back, dark curls resting on his pillows. Right away, you sat on your knees, watching the way his arm flexed as he reached over to the side table and opened the drawer. Touch guided his way to a gold wrapper.

“A little help?” He smirked, looking down at his hard cock still tucked in his underwear. You smiled and nodded, your fingers hooking on the gray waistband and gently peeling the fabric down his legs. His big hard cock immediately sprung free for your eyes to devour. A throaty groan resonated from him. It was much bigger than what you had pictured, it was impossible to not stare at it in all its veiny, throbbing glory. 

Emmett ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, rolling the latex down his thick cock and looking up at you with a sexy smile.

“You ready to be my cowgirl?” 

Immediately, you snapped out of your trance and nodded.

“Yes, sir…” Your voice came out sweet and so lovely, his hand motioned towards him.

“C’mere, baby…” Emmett cooed and you moved to stand above him. You lowered down slowly on him until your sensitive folds felt the covered tip of his cock, making him groan a little at the friction.

“Mmm, slow baby…” He coached you in a soft voice, putting his hands on your hips and guiding you. “Sink down slowly…” And slowly you did it. His cock slid inside your tight hot ready entrance easily, with all the time in the world. You sank down further, each of your knees on either side of his thighs almost trembling at the stretch. Loud moans escaped you both in unison as you adjusted to him and he adjusted to you. You felt so full, for a second you even doubted if it all could fit, but, as if his cock was designed for your tight little cunt, he fully slid right in with ease. 

“Oh, fuck…” You breathed out, looking into his beautiful eyes through your fluttering eyelashes. “So deep…” Words came in soft whine. Soft, clingy hands supported you by touching his broad, hairy chest. Emmett smirked, a perverted gleam in his eye from watching you adjusting to his thick cock.

“You feel me in here, baby?” He whispered, voice thick and heavy with lust. One of his calloused hands moved from your hip to your lower belly, pressing into your soft flesh and creating an erotic pressure that you could only moan and nod to. You felt him so deeply, all over and inside you.

“You feel so fucking good around me…  So tight and warm. I think this pussy was made to ride my cock.” His voice was low and rough, both hands moved to your hips again, ready to begin.. 

“Now, just go with the flow and get into a good rhythm baby… I’ll help…” He coached you with a sly grin that made your cunt clench around him. He was just so sexy, and he knew and reveled in it. “Just relax and enjoy the ride…” 

After exhaling a needy breath, you started to swivel your hips a bit, riding him slowly. Emmett groaned, his eyes closed in utter pleasure. His hands stayed glued to your hips and guided the slow rhythm your rolling hips set. You both moaned. His hips moved a little under you, encouraging you more and more.

“Look at you cowgirl...” His voice was already a little breathy, his groan took over the last letters of the word “girl”. His cock throbbed inside you at the sight of your pretty tits moving under the Budweiser logo. He helped you out with that, pulling your cropped shirt off your body and hungrily taking in the view of your bare chest as you bounced on his dick.

You moaned more when the tip of his cock hit that deep spot, and the more you spent riding him and earning yourself the title of cowgirl, the more he entertained an idea. 

After a minute or two, Emmett pulled you down, making you chest to chest with him and wrapping his toned arms around you. A searing, sloppy kiss entered your mouth while his hips pistoned from beneath. Your sweet tongue melted into his before he whispered against your lips.

“Now it’s time for you to relax and I'll do all the work baby…” His hoarse voice tickled your skin and he planted his feet on the mattress, gaining the support he needed to immediately pick up the pace and pound into you relentlessly from underneath. No thoughts registered properly in your brain from that point forward, it was all just a hot, wet pool of pleasure. A series of curses left your lips with no particular order and with no respect for anything.  

“Oh-fuck… Oh my fucking god... Fuck!” You cried out into the skin of his neck, the sound of your voice mixing with his low groans and the slapping of skin.

“You fuckin like that?” He panted into your ear, his hips never stopping as you moaned non stop.

“Yes... Yes... Fuck, yes!” You cried out as his hands moved to spank your ass, hard. You almost screamed, the sting nearly sending you over the edge. It was so overwhelming, you didn’t fully realize just how close you were until that moment.

“Jesus… I think I'm gonna come…” You whimpered and his hand came down again hard on your ass, definitely leaving a red mark. Emmett held you so tight against his chest, holding you in place for his thick cock to slam into over and over.

“Come for me..” He looked right into your eyes with pure want in the blue of his irises. And as if on command… You did. 

Eyes squeezed shut so tight you saw lights, a whiny moan was born from the depths of your chest and your sweet, slick cunt clenched around him tight. Your legs couldn't stop shaking and your orgasm took over every single sense. All your being was just a giant orgasm that still could feel him pumping hard into you.

“Holy fuck..” He breathed out in awe watching and feeling you succumb to all the pleasure. 

“Good girl..” He whispered, praising you right before capturing your lips in a hot kiss. “I'm coming too..” Even in your state, you could tell. His thrust had gotten sloppier and his breathing was much heavier. He wasn't able to hold back much longer. Inside the transparent latex, you felt him pulse and fill the material with his warm cum. He groaned, his arms held you tight and kept you there until the last drop was out.

Panting like you had just ran a marathon and with hearts beating fast, you laid there chest to chest. You put your forehead against his in a sweet moment, in response, his hand rubbed your back slowly.

 “Jesus… that was...” He whispered, still a little out of breath looking right into your eyes. You couldn't help but blush and put on a shy smile. 

“...the best sex i’ve ever had…” You softly finished his sentence. 

He pulled out slowly and sat up with you still pressed against his chest. His eyes studied your face for a minute before speaking. “I think you may be a real cowgirl after all…” There was that sly smirk once more, one that made you return the sentiment and lean in with him for one last soft kiss.

Pinterest board with our visual inspo for this fic, made by @fuckiingloser

[kawoala]

I love ur work and profile and u seem so amazing, if u are taking request could u pls pls write for an ushijima x ice skater reader?

If not u can ignore

Have a good day/night <33

⁝ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI 𝜗𝜚 glorified hot potato 𝜗𝜚

ᰔ word count ; 645

ᰔ content warning ; veerery minor themes of “i’m so much better than other people” 、 low key love at first sight 、 cousin! oikawa 、 teasing said cousin! oikawa.

when you were a kid, you never pictured your life turning out like this.

going to university on a full-ride scholarship for ice skating? of course. you’d been skating your whole life, so it was no surprise when it had come in the mail. being one of the best skaters on the team? of course.

standing in the bleachers of your university, surrounded by your fellow classmates - who smell, by the way - as they cheer loudly for said university’s infamous volleyball team? absolutely not.

you don’t even like other sports, you’re not really sure how you let your friends convince you to come to a volleyball game of all things. the sport itself is boring, you think. they pass the ball around a couple times and if they drop it too many times, they lose. it’s a glorified hot potato.

even so, there’s this guy on the court that you just… can’t take your eyes off. he’s tall and he’s big and his facial expression says he’d rather be anywhere else - most of the time.

most of the time, his face is lax, void of any emotion except boredom. most of the time, his jaw is clenched, eyes slightly narrowed as the ball moves around the court.

but then he hits the ball. he hits the ball and his brows pinch together in concentration. his mouth stays shut, but his nose scrunches up as he puts all of his strength into hitting the ball.

you decide right then and there that you need to know who this man is. you turn to one of your friends, nudging her shoulder. when she looks over, smile on her face, you grab her shoulders and lightly shake her. “i need to know who number eleven is.” you point down to the court just as he serves the ball over the net, scoring a point. “oh my god, kiyo, look at him. just- please tell me. i- i’m losing my mind, i think.”

she stares at you for a moment, a look of bewilderment in her eyes. she’s used to you scoffing at other sports, you laughing at how hard other people have to try to be good at their sport. but this? this is… different and you know it.

“um,” she starts, eyes drifting to the court as well. “number eleven? that’s ushijima. he’s a… second year, i think? i heard he went to shiratorizawa in high school.”

“ushijima,” you repeat, nodding. “ushijima. ushijima.” your brows slowly furrow. “ushijima- where have i heard that name before?”

kiyo shrugs. “he was like, kind of famous. his school was top of the ranks, i think. don’t take my word for this, though, because i’m not actually sure for certain.”

you’re too busy thinking to even register what she’s said. you’re thinking and thinking and thinking until - oh.

you pull out your phone and, in the middle of the large, smelly, noisy crowd, you call your least favorite cousin. he picks up on the second ring.

“y/n?”

“oikawa!” you exclaim. you plug one of your ears and hunch down, trying to hear better. “hey- who was that kid that wanted you to come to his school and you spent your whole high school career trying to beat him?”

“what?”

“the guy!” you exasperate, rolling your eyes. “the guy who was really good. was his name ushijima?”

“…yeah. what about him? why are you asking about him?”

you pause, snicker, then ask, “how funny would it be if i brought him home for thanksgiving?”

“what?! y/n, absolutely not! i will never speak to you agai-”

you hang up the phone and stand up straight again, eyes focusing on the court once more. your future husband is back on the court, eyes slightly narrowed, jaw clenched - just how you like it.

looks like you’ve got a new assignment this semester.

[otaku0411]

A Future Rewritten

Summary: After years of dreaming of parenthood, Y/n and Nanami face the devastating loss of their first pregnancy. The grief threatens to consume their relationship as Y/n struggles with feelings of guilt and inadequacy while Nanami fights to hold their bond together.

TW: Miscarriages, infertility, mention of alcoholism, and depression episodes

A/n: This is my first angst-like fanfic so please don’t be too harsh and my first JJk fanfic🥲

——————————————————————-

Both of y’all went to the doctor to see if there wer anything wrong that could affect yall fertility. The results came out great for Nanami. However for you, it said that you might be struggling with fertility issues. Doctor explained that it’s not impossible, but it will take a while longer for you to conceive. Feeling upset at the news, you try different herbs and positions that could increase your chance but nothing seems to work.

It became more difficult when friends and family would have get together and their children would be around playing in blissful innocence that they still have. There was one time where Gojo brought his son, and for some odd reason he was following Nanami around all day and your husband eventually gave in a play with him and even carried him on his back. That moment has you feeling so much pride but sadness because you couldn’t give him a baby. (It’s all your fault)

One morning, you woke up and immediately went to the bathroom and puke your gut out. This was abnormal, especially since you didn’t eat much of anything for dinner. Nanami knock on the door.

“Sweetheart, is everything alright?” He asked with concern in voice.

You flush the toilet and wash your hand and brush your teeth. “Everything good! Just needed to go to bathroom.” You chuckles, trying to play it off.

He doesn’t buy it one bit, he knows when you’re lying. He sighed” Okay but if you’re not feeling well, please tell me.”

“I will!” Nanami back up from the door and walked away.

You hate lying to him but you don’t want him to worry right now. You soon get ready for work and leave the house. Throughout the day, all you could think about is the vomit, but then you get a notification on your phone that says your cycles is 5 days late. Okay this is a sign!

After work, you when to the drugstore and went home. Luckily Nanami was still at work so you took the opportunity to take three pregnancy tests. You waited for 5 minutes. Those five minutes were the longest time you felt. Anticipated and nervous for the results. The timer went off and you decided to look.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Nanami comes home with takeout from your favorite restaurant. He shouted out your name to announce he’s home. You slowly come out of the hallway with both of your hands behind your back.

“Hey love I brought yo-…….what’s behind your back?”He quickly noticed how you were standing. He look around you to see if he get a peep but you dogged his attempts.

You had a big grin on your face as you were too excited. You show him the pregnancy test with two big bold lines. Nanami looks and his eyes begin to widen as the realization hits him.

“You’re…..pregnant?” A smile and excitement creep on his face.

You eagerly nodded your head and before you could say anything, Nanami pick you up and hug you tightly.

“We’re gonna be parents!!!!” He chanted loudly. You laugh at his excitement. This was the best news he could get all year! He slowly put you down to look at you.

“I’m so happy to be a father and to have you as the mother of my children.” He caressed you gently and put his hand on your stomach.

“I can’t wait to meet you little guy.”

The next few months was full of restfulness and excitement for the arrival of the baby. Nanami has ordered many pregnancy books and preparation for the baby as you’ve been dealing with the occasional nausea and fatigue and sickness that comes with the first trimester of pregnancy. You two were at every appointment making sure that the pregnancy was going well and that the baby was progressing successfully.

On the 12th week, Yall had went to the appointment for an ultrasound to see the baby. Y’all were very excited to see the little one and to see how they were growing in your belly and any updates that you two need to know. The nurse happily lead you guys to the room, place you down on the bed by the ultrasound screen and put the cold gel on your stomach as she put the wand onto the stomach and begin moving around to see the baby. You and your husband hold each other hand excited to see the baby not knowing what was to come. The nurse who once looked at the screen once with a smiley, happy face turn into a very neutral expression on expression.

The nurse looked at you two and told you “I’ll be right back.” She left and you two were wondering what was going on y’all waited a few minutes and then the doctor came in and told you the heartbreaking news.

“I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami but it appears that we could not have found a heartbeat we checked again and there are no sign of life.”

You two look at each other in shock at the new, not wanting to believe what the doctor is saying.

“What are you trying to say?” You didn’t comprehend what she’s saying, or rather what you don’t want to comprehend.

The doctor sighed as she basically realized she has to say the difficult part, “I’m saying you have miscarriage at 12 weeks.”

Hearing those words come out the doctor’s mouth of the room to be muffled and silence as the two you just looked at each other, not knowing how to express or what to say. The doctor explained that it was nothing that you have done and miscarriages commonly happen in the first trimester. All you could think inside your head was ‘what did I do? What’s wrong with me? How could I let this happen? Could I prevented this?!’ You asking these questions over and over again in your mind.

Nanami see that you space out and called you, “Honey? You okay?”

You snapped out and continue listening to the doctor.

The doctor continues explaining that it is possible to try again later down the line.

Y’all came to the hospital with a baby and now leaving without it. They induced your labor to get the baby and the placenta out. It was painful and caused discomfort for you and Nanami.

After the surgery, you was prescribed with medication to make sure everything clears out of your uterus and to make sure there are no complications after the miscarriage. you inform your job about a medical emergency and you need to have a week off from work.

Nanami drove you both home, the car drive was filled with silent. You put your purse on the table and just sat down on the couch looking down at the floor. You try to hold your stomach with a small bump that was once forming is no longer there. Nanami sat right beside you holding your hand, trying to come for you the best way he can. He’s processing the pain too but knows that it’s harder for you since you were carrying the baby.

“Do you wanna talk about this?” He ask you, he cares about you. He wants the best for you to make sure that everything is okay, but instead of just talking about it and spread your feelings, you shut down how can you be a wife? You can’t even give your partner a child

“What do you want to dinner?” You blurred out , not wanting to talk about the event that just happened back at the hospital no, we look so confused. Why are you not talking to him? You literally just had a miscarriage?! Nanami can see the way the pain as you look at the ground and knew that you didn’t wanna talk about it right then and there, so he just went along with it to make peace at the moment.

“I’ll take care of dinner. You don’t have to worry about cooking dinner.” He answer you with his soft tone, you nodded your head. “Okay, I’ll be in the bathroom.” You get up the couch and wash and left and went to the bathroom.

Once you close the door, all the tears that accumulated all day when the moment you got the news just start pouring out. You just sobbing as tears cover your face and cheeks. You’re a mess. You don’t know how to process this. When you thought you finally got a break and finally gonna be a mother. It was taken away from me just like that.

What was wrong with me? What? Why can’t I carry a baby in my stomach??

The week that you was off from work, you just laid in bed in silence. You did not eat sleep or eat or drink anything. The only time you got up really was to use the restroom. Sure you wash your face from time to time but other than that you did not do nothing, you barely even shower. The only reason you somehow survived is what because your husband cooked dinner and semi forced you to come down to eat dinner with him.

he tried to talk to you about the miscarriage, he wanted you to talk about it. He did not blame you for what happened. he blaming you for losing the baby. He mad at you cannot how can you be a good wife if you cannot give him a child what’s wrong with you?

Why it is so hard for me, but not for other women that’s all you could think about in your mind. Every second will consume of the miscarriage in the could’ve been and would’ve been and everything around it. You hated yourself for it, you failed as a woman, partner, and mother.

One night in bed , you were up looking at the ceiling just thinking about everything that happened. Kento saw that you wasn’t sleeping ”are you OK? You can’t sleep?” You look over to your right at him. “No, I’m not really tired right now.” He sighed, he knew why you’re up. He knows that you are too hard on yourself right now. “You know I’m not mad at you right?” You look away from him. You want to believe him you really do but all you can think of your mind is the opposite.

he’s gonna leave you for someone who can give him a child.

That’s all you can think about all that you worry about you turned your back at him “I’m going to Sleep. You have a good night.”

Nanami was shocked by your behavior. you never turn your back on him. But he wasn’t gonna give up on you. He pulled you close, with your back towards his chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He whispered in your ear “I love you.” before he try to go to asleep.

The week you return from work, you put a mask on for your coworkers and carry on with your work and project that you had missed out like nothing happened. despite the effort, you were still thinking about the pregnancy at home, but at work all you can think about what project deadline, reports, and meetings.

You bury yourself in work, helping every project in the company and contribute to many groups around the department that you were in. Your supervisor ask if you want to stay a little later to finish the report and you happily answered yes. anything to not be at home and think about the miscarriage anything to not go home and be a disappointment to your husband at least at work you are something here. A somebody with purpose. Somebody who accomplish a lot of things here.

The next few weeks, all you did was work and overtime, work and overtime, work and overtime.

You’d come home exhausted from work and became close friends with your wine cellar. Indulging on a few glasses of wines and cocktails every other day after working overtime. That feeling of intoxication and praise at work helped block out the depress thoughts, even if it was for a couple hours.

After finishing a huge project at work, your team decided to go out and celebrating with drinks. At the bar, you were laughing and talking with the few coworkers you enjoyed spending time with. Y’all were having a good time and even offer Sasha, one of your colleagues and good friends, a drink. Normally she’d accept it but she shook her head.

“Not tonight. I’m not allowed to drink for the next few months.” She explained as her hands is placed on her belly. The whole team look at Sasha surprised but soon follow up with excitement. Many congrats her and ask about the baby. As those conversations were happening, you couldn’t help but think about your own pregnancy and how far along the baby would’ve been by now. You’d been 7-8 months along.

You congrat Sasha, paid for your tabs and quickly called it a night. But that didn’t stop the drinking. You went to the liquor store and got some Taylor Port and Patron. You made it home around 9:35 pm and immediately pour yourself a glass and chugged it. You pour yourself another glass when a voice behind you spoke.

“You’re drinking again?” He look you at very distressed. He seen the way you been acting the last few months and it’s getting worse.

“Yeah so what?” You replied as your mouth touch the glass with the alcohol entering your throat.

Nanami was tired. You come home late, smelling like liquor and being borderline drunk every other day was getting old and fast. He walked up to you and grabbed your glass.

“What the fuck?! Give it back!”

“No, I’m tired of seeing you like this (Y/n). Coming home late and drinking is not healthy and it’s not you!”

“So what?! It’s not like I’m hurting anyone.” You protest.

“You’re hurting me! And more importantly you’re hurting yourself! You can’t continue on like this. This is not the woman I married.”

Taking his word the wrong way you blurred out “Well go find another bitch who’d give you everything you want!”

Nanami look at you stunned by your words. Before he could say anything, you continued with slurring your words.

“Maybe you should end things with me, find another woman who will give you ALL the kids and babies you want instead of being with one who couldn’t even carry one in their first trimester.” As you yelled out, tears begin to form in your (e/c) eyes. You already imagine in your mind that he’d leave you, find someone else, marry her and have a family. A family with beautiful children. A family that doesn’t include you.

Silent was the only thing that was heard in the kitchen. Nanami spoke out softly, “Sweetheart…….,” as he walked closer towards you.

You just lost it. All the months of holding it in secret and emotional turmoil just came out as tears fall against your face. Nanami quickly held you tightly as you begin to cry out in his arms.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?!”

“Hey hey, it’s okay-“

You abruptly cut him off “No it’s not! For two fucking years we’ve been trying to get pregnant. Over and over again all because I have a hard time getting pregnant! And I one time I did I fucked up and lost our baby!”

He stood there holding you as you vented out everything you’ve been feeling. This was a long time coming.

“I’m sorry I failed you…..” Your voice cracked as you spoke. Nanami look at you disappointed. Not at you, but at himself and how he wishes he tried harder to get you to open up sooner.

“Y/n, you can’t blame yourself for this. I hate seeing you blaming yourself for something that isn’t your fault whatsoever.” You continue to sob as Nanami gently grab your chin to make you look at him.

“Look at me, you are strong, intelligent, and beautiful person inside and out. Our next pregnancy will be stronger and better. And you’ll be one hell of a mother.”

“But…..what if I never get pregnant again Kento. It took me years for just one. I know how much you desire to be a father……and I’m scared that we’ll separate because of—“

“Don’t.” He paused you. You look up at him confused and still upset.

“I don’t care if it takes two years, twenty years, or even if it never happens, Y/n. You are who I envision as the mother of my children, but more than that—you are my everything. If we can’t have children, I’ll still feel complete, because I have you. I see you in every vision of my future, holding my hand, laughing with me, growing old with me. Children or no children, you are my home and my forever. I’m not going anywhere, Y/n. Not now, not ever.”

You soon get overwhelmed with emotions from his speech. Sure he has said many heartfelt words before but this one is definitely up there. You buried yourself into his chest as you continue to cried out in sob with a soft “Kento….”

Y’all stay in position for a while, embracing each other after a long time since the miscarriage. Tonight has helped you two beginning to understand the importance of being vulnerable again. You two don’t know what to expect in the future ,but you guys know that regardless of it y’all have each other and that will be enough.

[phan3145]

Title: Slippery Slope. Fandom: Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Cursing, Implications, Intensity) Pairing: Eventual Noa x Human!Reader.

***Notes: Sorry I haven’t updated in a hot minute everyone. Life has been kicking my butt as well as my husband’s. We had to prioritize, and then afterward I didn’t feel like writing. Not promising regular updates again, but I am consistently working on this. As always, thank you for your support and kind comments. I love you all.

Chapter 13: Not the First

You

You had gone to bed last night, stomach burning and body restless from the day that had transpired. The only comfort had been that Micheal apparently did not care about Anaya’s scent all over you the way the apes cared about his. He had snuggled in close to you as you laid there, thinking about how you would handle the balancing act between the two- no three, species moving forward. Anaya accepted Micheal, at least he stopped trying to kill him once he knew you cared about him. If Noa knew you cared about Micheal, maybe he would also leave him alone? Maybe, he could understand you caring about another animal? He cared about you, didn’t he? At least a little bit. Certainly enough to come talk to you after a fight.

That had caused you to toss and turn even more, not really knowing why Noa had shown up. Maybe he had still been angry, but seeing the situation with you and Anaya had distracted him enough to let it go temporarily. You could only imagine what you had looked like, the definition of sheer panic coming to mind. Noa had always been attentive to your feelings…he probably did push his anger to the side when he saw you were scared. You believed he did anyway, that was just the way he was. Caring, patient, and understanding to a fault.

That thought only served to remind you that the next morning you needed to face him. You needed to apologize for hitting him, maybe talk about the future between you and the clan. You were obviously putting him in a tight spot with the elders. That’s not even speaking about the rock and hard place you were placing Anaya in by having him keep your secret. The elders expected you to show yourself…you had no idea how you would manage that either. If Soona, Anaya, and Noa were there with you, then you should have no trouble feeling safe, but there was something else that made you shudder at the thought. You had this feeling you would be losing something, this small peace you found with your three ape friends. That small, fragile peace built on mutual respect and trust.

You had scoffed at that. Today was an example of how easily trust could be broken, but also re-built. In all fairness, the apes never really expected much from you. Noa even took great pains to make it clear to you that you could always say no. If they asked you to do something you didn’t want to, they wouldn’t force you…but this Caesar Council was a different animal all together. Anaya wanted you to be a part of it, which meant you would be a part of the clan…even if it was indirectly. Either way, it changed things. Anaya said Noa had created new laws, and this council was one of them. That would need to be something you discussed with Noa down the road…probably not tomorrow.

You had almost rambled yourself to sleep at that point, when your eyes had flown open wide and you realized you never decided when you would meet Noa at the rock. Anaya had simply said he would show him where it was. You had groaned and snuggled in deeper under your blanket, knowing you had an early start the next morning.

So here you were, sunbathing on your chunk of safety in the middle of the creek. You were soaking wet from your swim, making sure to scrub away Micheal’s scent as you made your way to your rock. Thankfully, you had sense enough to wear a dirty top that needed to be washed anyway, as well as your singular pair of shorts your reserved for the extreme heats of summer. This summer had not been too bad so far, but today the garment served a new purpose of keeping your modesty while you swam. You would not be caught naked in front of Noa like you had with Anaya. You knew he hadn’t seen anything of course, but you still were not going to repeat your actions and risk the possibility of Noa seeing you naked.

You rubbed at your eyes, a yawn sneaking up on you as you became more comfortable. You were sure Noa didn’t care about your body anymore than Anaya did, but it was the principle of the matter. Humans and their pride…not that you had much to begin with. Still, you clung to the slivers you did have.

You had just fully settled in, sleep creeping along the edges of your consciousness, the early morning sun warming you perfectly, when you heard the hoots of apes. You stretched, turning your head to glance to your right, but did not see hide nor hair of Noa or Anaya. This confused you at first. Did you imagine the noise? You closed your eyes again, only to have them fly open when you heard it again. This time, it was to your left…on the other side of the creek.

You froze for a moment, daring to turn your head at a snails pace to your left. The noises were clearer now. While you were sure they were chimpanzee hoots, they definitely did not sound like gorilla noises, you were still uneasy. Once your head was fully turned, you were surprised to still hear the noises, but see nothing on the other side of the creek.

You sat up slowly, hesitantly, confusion spiking as you looked left, then right once more. Nothing. You pushed yourself up onto your knees, frantically searching for the source of the sounds. You swiveled around on the dry stone, turning in a full circle as your eyes desperately scanned for something that simply wasn’t there. Were you going crazy? You swore you could hear ape noises. You stopped, closing your eyes and listening more intently.

There!

It was coming from your left, as you originally thought, but no matter how hard you looked, you could not see anyone approaching. The tree line was clear up and down stream. Still, you heard the noises, and the longer you heard them, the more pitiful they sounded. Was someone in pain? Were they hurt? What if they were calling for help? You rose into a standing position, practically on tip-toe, blocking the sun from your eyes with your hands in an attempt to see better.

Finally, you spotted the smallest of movements along the bank. It seemed it was just a baby chimpanzee, crouched down on the edge of the creek among the bushes. You felt your lips turn down into a frown, the scared looking chimp tugging at your heartstrings. How did they get here? Why were they all alone? You opened your mouth to call out to them, but immediately stopped yourself, dropping back down to plaster yourself flat against the rock.

No baby would be left alone like this.

You suddenly felt very exposed, creeping yourself back to the edge of the rock before quietly lowering your body back into the water. You stayed behind the rock, on the opposite side of the chimp, who did not seem to be aware of your presence at all. You peaked around the edge, wanting to keep an eye out, but not wanting to be seen. You couldn’t leave the baby alone, but you were still wary to approach them, lest an angry mother burst through the clearing and see you as a threat.

You waited silently, patiently. After a few more minutes of the chimp hooting and no one coming, you heard the noises change. It sounded like- were they…crying? Could apes cry? You floated there, transfixed by the tiny chimp, who curled its arms around itself and sat there sobbing. You fought the urge to reveal yourself, but in the end your heart overruled your head. The chimp was just a baby, you couldn’t leave them there alone and scared.

You carefully maneuvered around the rock, making your way towards the sobbing baby on the bank. You stopped when you felt muddy earth between your toes, water still up to your chest. You called out softly, so as not to scare them, “Do you need help? Are you lost?”

Your soft and careful voice did nothing to soothe the chimp, who jumped back from the edge and started screeching louder. You winced, muscles tensing and nerves screaming at you to swim away and leave. Something in your brain decided against that though, your hands coming up from the water to quickly sign, Friend. No hurt. Safe. Need help?

The baby went silent before you even signed the question, staring at you as if you suddenly became the most fascinating thing they had ever seen. You watched their eyes dart from your hands, to your eyes, to your body in the water, and back to your hands. You repeated the four phrases, wondering if they understood sign yet or if they were too young. Then, after another moment of intense staring, they raised their hand. It was hesitant, but they signed, Alone. Help. Afraid.

You swallowed, “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Another moment of hesitation, then a nod and a signed, Yes.

“Okay,” you took a deep breath. “I’m going to come to you. I’m going to walk up to the bank and sit with you. Alright?”

They nodded again.

You returned the nod, slowly walking up the incline until you made it to the edge. The baby did not seem to realize how big you were, head tilting back as you continued to approach. When they could no longer lean back they scrambled to their feet, crouched on all fours before backing up a few steps. You couldn’t blame them, Micheal was easily twice their size. You ran a hand through your wet hair, body slipping down into a sitting position before you crossed your legs. You didn’t want to frighten them anymore than you already had, so you sat and waited. After a moment or two the chimp made their way to you, knuckles brushing against your exposed thigh. They flinched back immediately, as if you would strike at them like a cobra. You let out a breath, trying to smile as you signed, Friend. Safe. Protect.

The furrowed brows and downturned mouth of the chimp eased into something more neutral, more curious, as they decided to climb into your lap. You fought the intense urge to lock up and stiffen your muscles in preparation for an attack. You tried instead to think of the baby as if they were Micheal. They were more open than him though, pinching and pulling at your wet clothes in fascination. That didn’t hold their attention for long though, as they poked at the meat of your upper arms. That forced a giggle out of you, watching them get closer and continue to poke the exposed flesh.

You bit your lip in concentration then, fighting off more laughter, “Do you know where your parents are?”

The chimp paused only long enough to shake their head.

You blew air out of your mouth then in a slow exhale, “Do you have a name?”

The chimp paused, making a gesture over and over that you did not understand. You shook your head, trying to explain that you did not understand. The chimp pouted, opening up their mouth suddenly in a widely comical elongated fashion. You heard a few intakes of air before they huffed and screeched, “E…E…E.”

The loud noise was shrill against your ears. You winced slightly, holding up the hand they weren’t clutching onto, “Okay, okay, easy there. Don’t strain yourself. You can’t talk yet, that’s okay. E is good enough for me.”

E nodded once, puffing their cheeks, before they continued to poke and jab at your arm. You became increasingly confused, watching them and trying to parcel out the reason. Then, they noticed the fascination in their gaze as they dragged a finger down your arm in a slow push. You saw your skin lighten in color from the pressure before darkening again, and you smiled. The color change was something they had probably never seen in an ape before. You let them play to their hearts content, so focused on them that you had lost track of your surroundings.

Then someone called your name.

You snapped your head up, finding Soona standing a few feet in front of you, an unfamiliar Eagle perched on her arm. You breathed a sigh of relief as she began to screech and hoot in delight, “You…found her.”

“Her?” You parroted.

Soona pointed to chimp in your arms, who seemed happier, but reluctant to leave your side. The Eagle on Soona’s arm was given a signal and quickly flew away as she explained, “Wandered off…have been searching…long time.”

Your brow furrowed at that, “Wandered off? Your village is far from here, how did she get this far by herself?”

Soona shook her head, trudging over towards you and practically falling down next to you. She seemed exhausted. “Not from…village…from group of…younglings…upstream.”

Soona held out a hand, which the smaller ape happily grasped a finger of. When Soona reached for her though, E gave a small shout of protest before moving to the opposite side of your body. Soona looked surprised, the young ape becoming fascinated now with your wet, matted hair. She stood on two legs, leaning against your chest for balance as she pulled and tugged at the strands. You winced slightly, but chuckled good naturedly as you locked eyes with Soona.

She broke eye contact for a moment, gaze turning towards the empty forest off to the side. Before you could ask if something was wrong, her attention was back on you, head tilting slightly as she asked, “You are…better…than yesterday?”

You shrugged a shoulder, catching E starting to braid the pieces of your hair that were almost dry. “I guess. I hope you know that I never meant to offend you, or your clan. I’m sorry if you were expecting me and I never showed. I just wasn’t…prepared to see your village.”

Soona hummed, “Noa…should have told you…should have told us…sooner…I am…sorry…that apes have not…always been kind…to you.”

E tilted her head up then, her question obvious though she could not voice it. You shook your head, “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. It wasn’t you who was un-kind to me. You, Anaya, and Noa have been nothing but kind to me…for the most part.”

“You are…still angry…with Noa?” Soona asked carefully.

You puffed out a long breath, thinking, snickering as E did her best to mimic your noise. You pulled more hair from your back to your front, noticing she enjoyed braiding. You hoped it would keep her distracted from the conversation, “Can anyone truly stay mad at Noa?”

Soona seemed to brighten at this, but chose to remain silent as you continued, “I understand why he did what he did. I don’t like it, but I understand it. The real problem that day…well…it’s just…. I know there are barriers between our species. It’s more than just speech, and I…I mean, these problems probably have carried over from hundreds of years of differences. You three have been great, but the part that upsets me is that Noa seems to choose to ignore the fact that apes and humans don’t normally co-exist peacefully. We do, but I’ve also experienced the other end of the spectrum between our species. And Noa just…”

Soona hummed, “Think he…does not see…the differences…in you…but you cannot help…but see them…in us.”

You hesitated, but ultimately nodded in agreement. “I don’t hold being apes against you or your clan, I just…wish he understood what it feels like. To not know if you can trust the person- ape, next to you. To not know if they are going to turn on you, betray you, or even hurt you.”

E, who you assumed had been distracted by her task, stopped immediately. She looked up at you then, a soft coo leaving her as she patted your shoulder. You snorted, using a single finger to mirror her actions. She hooted in clear amusement, leaning her head into your shoulder, rubbing her face against you before sliding down into your lap. She seemed tired now, curling into your side and closing her eyes. You felt a smile slowly creep onto your face, carefully using two fingers to stroke the top of the chimp’s head. She snuggled in closer then, gripping tightly onto your shirt as tears threatened your vision and you thought your heart was actually going to explode.

Get a grip.

Your hormones must be crazy right now. At least, that’s what you told yourself, as you brushed a hand along the loose braids along your shoulder. Soona, as she tends to do, had remained quiet during this exchange. She studied you, noticing how emotional you had become, scenting the air quietly before admitting, “Noa does know…what it is like…to be betrayed.”

This surprised you, your attention quickly brought back to the present conversation. Your eyebrows rose, curiosity peaked as you asked, “By a fellow ape?”

Soona shook her head, causing confusion to drown your mind until she spoke, “By a…Echo…you are not the first…that could speak…that Noa has met.”

You felt your jaw go slack, trying to contain your excitement as you asked, “There are other humans around who can speak?”

“There was one,” Soona answered, lips pursed as she noted your disappointment. “We do not know…where she went…left five seasons ago…have not seen her since…her name was…Mae.”

You nodded, urging Soona to continue, “What happened with Mae? You said she…betrayed Noa? How?”

Soona sighed, “We do not…normally speak of her…she was a source…of much pain and…confusion for Noa…think…you should know.”

You waited, allowing Soona to collect her thoughts. “There was ape…Proximus…he was king of apes…he searched for Mae…killed other humans that…were with her…wanted to get inside…a human vault…it held great weapons…that would make Proximus…more powerful.”

A shiver ran down your spine, remembering the ape Sylva that Anaya had spoken of. He never mentioned this Proximus ape though. Wanting a better idea of the situation you asked, “Who was Sylva to Proximus?”

Soona seemed completely surprised you knew that name, but nevertheless answered, “Sylva was…his General…not sure if that is an ape word…or a human word.”

You swallowed, “It’s human…Proximus seems to have already been an advanced ape.”

Soona curled more into herself then, “He was….we all were afraid…if not for Noa…and Mae…Eagle Clan would not…be here.”

“Proximus ordered your clan to be stolen, and Sylva carried out his orders.” You connected the dots then, “What happened to Proximus?”

“Noa stopped him,” Soona answered without hesitation.

This surprised you. You were aware that Noa killed Sylva, but Proximus as well? Noa did not seem like he was violent, or capable of such great strengths. You assumed he had killed Sylva, a gorilla, by outsmarting him…but Proximus? How? Was Noa secretly more dangerous than you gave him credit for?

Soona grunted then, pulling you out of your thoughts, “Noa says…Mae hid from Proximus…in our village…Noa accidentally…lead them to us…the entire clan was taken…Noa tracked us…for many days…Mae followed…Noa did not know she could speak…until she called his name…Sylva was close…she was scared…she chose Noa as…lesser of the two apes…to fear.”

“So, she lied.” You offered, “Noa was betrayed by her traveling with him but he didn’t know she could speak, or that Proximus was hunting her.”

Soona nodded, “More than that…when Noa and Mae…were taken to Proximus…he learned she shared…the same goal…as Proximus…she wanted to…get inside…get a book…that could help humans…learn to speak…again.”

“That…” you hesitated. You wondered how much to say. A book could not bring back human’s ability to speak. You either were immune or you were not…unless there was a record of some sort. Maybe a cure…a vaccine? Had humans halfway across the world developed their salvation but been unable to share it with anyone outside the vault?

You remembered your vault constantly sending out a signal using the available satellites orbiting Earth, but they never received a response. So much had been lost to time…and if there had been a cure all along? You swallowed the bile in your throat at the thought of how many millions died over time who couldn’t even speak.

You shook your head, “That sounds incredible. Did she find what she was looking for?”

Soona nodded, “Noa helped…we helped her…but she…did not help the clan.”

You tilted your head, “What do you mean?”

Soona huffed, clearly agitated, “The reason…we do not…speak of her…she flooded Proximus’ kingdom…killed many apes…in the process…then ran away.”

“I’m sorry…” It was the only thing you could think to say as silence engulfed the both of you.

“Noa…” Soona began, attention once again towards the forest at your backs. You waited, brows raised as Soona turned back to you. “Noa was…different…after meeting Mae…is different…with you…now.”

Something about that sentence sent chills down your spine. There was many implications, and you chose to ask the most obvious of them, “Does Noa think I’ll turn out to be like Mae? That I’ll betray him? Hurt him or the clan? Is that why he’s always watching me, always careful around me?”

Soona shook her head, “Noa knows…you are not like Mae…you are…what he wished…Mae was…wants to make sure…he does not become….like Mae…to you.”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, “I…I threw a rock at him yesterday. I made a mistake…I already hurt him. He shouldn’t think that I’m not like her…I could be. I’m human after all.”

“Human…” Soona began, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Does not mean bad…ape…does not mean good…Noa says…wants others to learn…we are better…stronger…good and bad…together…more alike…than either side…wants to speak of.”

Still cradling the sleeping E in your lap, you leaned your body into Soona’s, head coming to rest between her neck and her shoulder. Her hand slid from your shoulder to the back of your head, leaning in to return your half-hug as well. She patted your head a few times as you sighed, “Thank you, Soona.”

There was silence, peaceful this time. E breathed heavily in your lap from sleep, and the creek next to you trickled soothingly while the sun climbed higher in the sky. You took a deep breath, feeling more prepared to speak to Noa than you had been before. There was a distinct crack sound behind you, causing both you and Soona to turn.

You saw some leaves fall from a tree not to far back, but couldn’t make out anything more than that. You thought you saw movement for a moment, shielding your eyes with your hand once more, when Soona’s Eagle tore through the canopy and landed next to her on the ground. She stood too quickly then for your liking, looking upstream before turning back to you.

Her eyes were pleading, almost desperate as she said, “Do not…be scared…do not run.”

You were confused, until you heard the litter patter of many feet moving towards you. You leaned your body to see past Soona, body tensing and breath freezing at what you saw. Many apes, children from the looks of it, were running down stream towards the both of you. You suddenly did not want to be on the ground.

You carefully scooped E from your lap, holding her close to your chest as you practically leapt to your feet. Whether from being moved or the sudden frantic beat of your heart, E woke with a start. She began to hoot and squirm in your arms. You clutched her tighter to you, feeling your breathing become labored, taking a step or two back in fear. You didn’t get much further, Soona’s arm coming up to hold your arm.

You jerked towards her with frantic eyes. Hers were still calm, concerned as she tried to comfort you. “I am…here…trust.”

As the apes came closer, you swallowed hard, nodding a few times before taking a step closer, behind her. She hummed, screeching at the apes a few moments later. They came skidding to a stop in front of you, all of them transfixed, as if they had never seen a human before. You reasoned, that perhaps they hadn’t. You tried to take deep, discreet breaths to calm your nerves. None of them were taller than your waist, but the thought of so many surrounding you still made you nervous.

Suddenly, the biggest of the bunch stepped forward, sniffing at your feet for a moment before glancing up to meet your gaze. His held tilted in confusion as he demanded in a voice that sounded much younger than he looked, “Why does Eden…get to be carried…by the Echo?”

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 17

Masterlist

Incoming video call from The-Next-Bruce-Wayne…

Incoming video call from The-Next-Bruce-Wayne…

“Hello?”

“Tucker! Just the man I needed to talk to!”

Tucker sighed. He could tell just by the way Danny said his name- they way he said ‘just the man I needed to talk to’ that he was up to something. “What’s up man?”

Danny smiled sheepishly. “Well, uh, first of all did you get the job?” He squinted and looked behind Tucker, probably noting the stacks of moving boxes lined up against the wall. 

Scoffing, Tucker gave him a Look. “Dude, it’s me- of course I got the job. Sam and I have been packing as fast as possible so we can get out there within the month, sooner if she has her way.” He loved his girlfriend but when she wanted something done she was on a warpath until it got done and Tucker… he just wasn’t built like that.

Smiling, Danny glanced off screen for a moment before returning his attention to the screen.

“How are the boys?” Tucker asked, raising an eyebrow knowingly. Danny could argue that he wasn’t their dad all he wanted, and he’d respect that and not call them his kids, but it didn’t make it true.

The sheepish smile returned. “Uh well, that’s one part of what I was calling to talk to you about. I don’t want to overload you while you’re moving, but uh- well… how long would it take for you to make them like, legally mine?”

Tucker’s eyes blew wide. Holy shit- “For real?”

“Miguel and Santi said I was dad-shaped.” He confirmed like it explained anything. 

“You cried didn’t you?”

His best friend crossed his arms. “Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. We talked about it last night and they’d like to-” Danny choked, looking away from the camera but he couldn’t fool Tucker. He was clearly getting emotional. “They’d like to get their name changed to Nightingale as soon as possible.”

“Holy shit man- that’s amazing!” He hadn’t believed Dani when she’d called the group to inform them that Danny’s recent deistractions had been because he’d taken two boys in and was acting as their guardian. They were twenty-two! No way Danny had decided to just take in a couple of teens and be their dad. But then he’d met them at the birthday party and he could tell they were everything to Danny.

From the way he talked about them to the way he looked at them when he thought they wouldn’t notice, Danny loved those kids with his whole heart. It had been interesting to witness in person and despite Danny’s argument that he wasn’t their dad, Tucker knew he’d be getting this call in the near future. Which is why he already had the paperwork drawn up and faked with everything in place, he essentially just had to click a button to make it happen.

Danny was grinning from ear to ear. “Yeah it’s… I’m… happy they trust me.”

“All right, two more Nightingales coming right up. Now, you wanna tell me why you said we were taking down the GIW then turned off your phone?” 

Yesterday had been a normal day for Tucker and Sam, each working on packing one room while blaring music through the partially empty apartment. The night before they’d all been panicking about Danny’s daycare getting attacked and all the news that came with it, but knowing Danny, he’d gotten into more trouble after the fact and forgot to check his phone before passing out for the night. So they didn’t worry too much.

Just when Sam was saying them should try calling him again they’d gotten the text.

Crime-Fighting, Night-Stalking Vigilantes

The-Next-Bruce-Wayne: Get in losers we’re going to take down the GIW

The-Next-Bruce-Wayne changed the group chat name from ‘Crime-Fighting, Night-stalking Vigilantes’ to ‘Operation Take Down the Plastics’

“What the fuck.” Sam breathed.

Tucker started typing immediately. “You’re seeing this, right?”

Cassandra is typing…

The-Next-Gotham-Rogue is typing…

The Midwest Princess is typing…

Chaos: Fucking finally

TooFine: What brought this on?

Cassandra: Hell yeah, I’ve been waiting to be a part of a GIW mess around for years!

The-Next-Gotham-Rogue: Danny answer your phone

The-Next-Gotham-Rogue: Daniel J Nightingale answer. Your. phone.

The Midwest Princess: Oooh someone’s in trouble~

After two more calls went to voicemail, Sam and Tucker had given up on both reaching Danny and packing and had opted for cuddling on the couch with wine and theorizing about what could have caused Danny’s 180.

“After the scarecrow attack… everyone reached out.” Danny twisted his fingers. “I mean- everyone. People from Amity, numbers I didn’t recognize… one from Wisconsin…” Danny didn’t elaborate on that, Tucker knew that was Vlad and that Danny hadn’t read the messages. “Everyone knows where I am. That puts the boys in danger. So. We’re taking down the GIW. I’ve already asked Red Hood to get Batman and the Justice League to look into them and the Anti-Ecto-Acts and he seemed pretty sure that they had no idea any of this was going on.”

“Wait wait wait- go back- the Red Hood? Danny? How did you manage to get into contact with a crime lord and why haven’t I been informed?” Tucker couldn’t believe this- Danny had been so insistent that he wanted nothing to do with the Gotham vigilantes and here he was name dropping one of them like they were casual besties.

Shrugging, Danny glanced off camera again and frowned. “Uh- I met him a while back and now he drops by once in a while to check in.”

“Danny.”

“I accidentally killed the Joker and Red Hood caught me but he wanted the fucker dead too so he’s been dropping off food and shit at my place as a thank you and he also knows I’ve died and he’s met Phantom.”

“Danny- wha- what the fuck man! Holy fucking Christ!” Tucker keeled over, laughing. “You- you’re telling me that you… KILLED someone, and Red Hood is now feeding you as compensation? And you told him you’re dead?” 

The man on the other end of the line sighed heavily, his eye bags speaking volumes through his silence. “I was trying to help- sometimes I just say things and then I can’t take them back, I don’t know.”

“How- HOW does telling the Red Fucking Hood that you’re dead, help?”

Danny looked off camera again, clearly distracted. “I accidentally mentioned being a teenage vigilante and he had questions. I was all ‘if you take off your helmet’ AKA ‘reveal your identity’ I’ll tell you what happened. But the fucker wheres a domino mask UNDER the helmet! So he took it off and I’m not a liar so I had to tell him. I didn’t tell him everything though. He doesn’t know I’m Phantom. Or that I’m the ghost king. Or anything about the Fentons.”

Tucker could feel his usual laid back demeanor cracking under the weight of Danny’s big mouth. “Oh my fucking god. Okay, putting that aside. You need me to make the boys legally yours and what else?”

“If it’s cool, I’ll portal over later today to get a copy of your files on the GIW. Whenever Hood gets the chance to speak with Batman and hopefully the JL, he’s gonna summon Phantom again and I’d like to have all the information ready for them. Now I’ve actually gotta get going- I think the boys friend wants to hang out? I’m not sure. I’ll talk to you soon, Tuck. Love ya.”

Right, of course, why not. Tucker collapsed back onto the couch and groaned loudly. 

“What’re you grumbling about?” Sam asked, walking through the front door with groceries on either arm.

“Danny.”

She gave him a knowing look. “Help me put this stuff away and you can tell me all about what the fuck Danny did this time.”

~~~~~

“Wait wait wait hold on! I can’t understand you when you’re both talking at the same time.” Danny waved his hands around to silence the boys. “Miguel,” He turned to the older boy. “What’s going on?” 

Miguel shrugged. “Damian asked us over for dinner but he said you should come to ‘cause ‘is dad wanted ta meet you or somethin’.”

“And he said he has a dog and a cat and a cow! I want to see their cow, Danny can we go! Please?” Santi begged, reminding Danny that he was just a thirteen year old kid. “An’ he said he had a buncha brothers and sisters and we could all hang out- can we go?”

Danny thought about the paperwork Tucker would be emailing soon confirming the boys adoption, the drive he needed to pick up to give to the bats, the council meeting he needed to schedule to discuss the GIW, the work he needed to make sure was getting done on the daycare, and he sighed.

“What time?”

“YES!” Santi shot up and started running around in victory.

Miguel checked his phone. “Damian said dinner’s ‘round six-thirty but we could come over at six to meet everyone.”

That was only two hours to prepare. Danny rubbed his eyes. “Okay. I have some work to do before we leave, send me their address so I can figure out when we should leave.” He stood up and ran a hand through his hair. “Make sure Curiosity’s fed and let me know if you need anything, I’ll be in my study at my place.”

It was a few moments later when Miguel sent him the address and, after looking it up, Danny dropped his head to his desk. 

“Only you, Danny.” He groaned into the desk and processed the information that seemed obvious but hadn’t been for him apparently. Damian fucking Wayne. He’d been casually conversing with Damian Wayne, asking favors of him, not knowing who he was, and now he’d agreed to go to dinner at his house. House. Danny scoffed. His fucking manor. 

On the bright side, Duke would probably be there. It wasn’t like Danny was worried about them all being rich assholes or something, nice people like Duke and Damian didn’t come from rich assholes, but he wasn’t mentally prepared to have dinner at Wayne Manor with Bruce fucking Wayne.

Putting aside the work he’d planned on doing, Danny decided to take the rest of the time given to him, to prepare. Starting with a nap. 

Thank Ancients his sleep had been coming easier recently.

~~~~~~~

“Who did you say was coming to dinner again, Dami?” Dick asked, lounging on a couch in the main sitting room. 

Damian looked up from his sketchbook. “You remember the people we ran into at the store a few weeks ago?” Dick nodded. “Them. Nightingale is an acquaintance of mine and he is now a person of interest as well.���

“What do you mean?” Dick sat up.

“I forgot you were not here last night.” Damian tsked, setting down his charcoal and cleaning his hands off with a dirty rag. “Todd brought father a case. A very serious case that father isn’t too pleased about. He’s meeting with the Justice League tomorrow to discuss it, but seeing as Nightingale was specifically mentioned by Phantom, he is now a person of interest.”

Dick blinked. “Phantom?”

Sighing loudly, Damian picked up his sketchbooks and charcoal and stood up. “Read the report, Grayson.”

“Wait! We’re back to Grayson?” His older brother groaned as Damian exited the room with a hidden smirk on his face.

~~~~~~

Distantly, you could hear a young man screaming. “Who the FUCK ARE MIGUEL AND SANTIAGO NIGHTINGALE!?”

~~~~~~

Driving to Wayne manor was wild. And Danny said that as a half dead half alive ghost king who’d been cut open by his own parents and ended up opening a daycare without any plans. So you know he meant it. 

The driveway was long and winding, they had to introduce themselves at the gate so the butler could let them in, and when the pulled up the building towered over them. Now, technically, Danny did own a keep. It was certainly bigger than the manor, but that was a ghost thing. He’d never seen a place so big in the living world.

(And despite his abundant wealth, Danny didn’t care much for his large keep or deep pockets except for what they could do for others.)

Parking in front of the stairs- yes there were actual stairs leading up to this double door front entrance- Danny turned off the car and turned to the boys. “Okay, be on your best behavior- I don’t know this fruitloop so if you want to leave at any time, let me know. But also, have fun.”

Miguel rolled his eyes but Santi was the one who spoke up. “Fruitloop?”

“Crazy rich person.” Danny interpreted

Miguel frowned. “Aren’t you technically-”

“OH KAY!” Danny shouted, not wanting to be reminded that he technically fell under the same category as Vlad Masters and Bruce Wayne. “Let’s go!”

He hadn’t told the boys to dress up, he certainly hadn’t dressed up himself, and they’d all ended up wearing what was most comfortable. Danny at least put on jeans instead of sweatpants and threw on a cardigan instead of his usual ratty sweatshirt. He’d panicked after his nap took longer than it was meant to and barely had the time to shower and throw on some clothes before they needed to leave so he hadn’t had the chance to really think about his clothes.

Miguel fiddled with his bracelets as they approached the door and Danny noted that the boy was already anxious about the evening. “Hey, just try to have a good time. Seriously, we can leave whenever one of us gets tired, yeah?” The boy nodded silently, shifting a tiny bit closer as Danny rang the doorbell.

Opening the front door was exactly the kind of guy he expected. Dressed up, bald, with perfect posture, definitely a rich butler. He heard the footsteps of a couple more people approaching but- wait, wasn’t that the guy from-

“Alfred?” Danny said before he could stop himself. 

The butler offered a small smile. “Mister Danny, it’s a pleasure to see you again. I was unaware that you were the Mister Nightingale that Master Damian informed us would be visiting tonight. Please, do come in.” He opened the door wider, gesturing for them all to step into the foyer.

“Nightingale.” Damian greeted as he stepped into the foyer. “I was unaware you were acquainted with Pennyworth.” It was a statement, but the way he said it made Danny feel like he was being interrogated. 

Before he could respond, Dick stepped in right behind Damian. “Danny! A pleasure to see you again! I didn’t know Damian had befriended your kids.”

“They’re-” Danny started to refute Dick’s claim, out of habit, before stopping himself suddenly. All eyes were on him as he paused and glanced at Miguel who nodded subtly not quite meeting Danny’s eyes. “Yes, Damian’s been helping the boys learn how to take care of their cat. I will say I didn’t realize who either of you were.” He chuckled awkwardly.

Damian tipped his head to one side. “You… did not know?”

Shrugging, Danny took note of the shoe rack behind him and the boys and the lack of shoes on Dick and Damian, and gestured for the boys to take them off. “I’m not from Gotham, I mean, sure I’ve heard of you guys, but I didn’t really make the connection that you were Waynes.” He did his best to keep it casual, knowing well how annoying it could become when people talked to you like you were famous. He was a king after all, some people respected his status.

“Perhaps you should show our guests a more suitable spot to have this conversation?” Alfred offered with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Dick smiled sheepishly. “Sorry Alf, come on, most of the others are chilling in the living room.” 

Following Dick and Damian, Danny wondered how many others there would be. Growing up he thought he was really good with names and faces but after moving away from the small town he’d lived in his entire life and eventually taking up residence in Gotham, he realized he wasn’t any good at them at all. It had taken a long time to memorize his regular kids and parents’ names and who went with who-

“Well how was I supposed to know that? No one ever tells me anything!” A distinctly female voice shouted from the room they were entering. “Besides, who woulda thought Dami would have friends-” She cut off the moment Dick walked into the room and cleared his throat. “Oh come on- you know it’s true!”

Danny frowned to himself. Damian seemed like a pretty nice kid to him. 

“Tt. Brown. I’ll have you know I have plenty of friends. Nightingale, Miguel, Santiago, this is-”

“Wait a minute! They get first names but I’m still brown!” The girl shouted. Her hand movements and tone of voice felt familiar and Danny couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d seen her somewhere before.

“Everybody calm down!” Dick sighed loudly. “Danny, Miguel, Santiago, this is Steph, next to her is Cass,” the girl waved with a small smile. “And- where’s Tim? I thought he’d be here.”

“Yeah yeah, I’m here, Dick.” A young man grumbled, face buried in his phone. “Was working on something, are our guests- Danny?” 

Okay, once was a coincidence, twice? “Tim?” What were the chances that he already knew half of this family from previous chance encounters around the city? Because he knew Duke, Tim, Dick, Damian, and Alfred, and there couldn’t be that many more after Steph and Cass. 

“Oh my god why does no one tell me anything.” Tim breathed.

Steph shouted and pointed. “HA! Tim agrees with me! Maybe if the demon brat had told us who he was having over this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Uh… I’m not  sure how that would have helped but it’s good to see you again Tim. And nice to meet you, Stepp, Cass. I’m Danny, these are-” He hesitated, still getting used to things. “Miguel and Santiago, my boys. Thanks for having us over.”

The room grew silent and all of the Waynes seemed to be exchanging looks until finally Tim let out a sentence that was genuinely worrying. “Oh my god you’re as bad as Bruce.”

Oh goddamnit. He was a fruitloop.

The room burst into laughter, even Santi and Miguel seemed to understand the joke, Danny just rubbed a hand across his brow and shook his head. Hoping to change the subject, he brought up the only topic he could think of. “Where’s Duke? He’s the only one I knew would actually be here.”

“He was working on some stuff last I checked, he’ll be here soon for dinner though- huh.” Dick paused. “Dami, did you happen to mention to Duke who our company was for dinner?”

Damian tsked. “I did not think it imperative to alert every member of this household who would be coming over for dinner. They are my guests.”

“Yes well, have yourself and your guests wash up, dinner is almost ready.” Alfred said, making Danny and the boys jump. How the hell was he so quiet? The man moved more like a ninja than a butler.

Once Damian had showed them to the nearest bathroom and they’d all washed their hands, they were shown to the dining room. It was… crazy. A crystal chandelier hung above the center of the room, the table was long enough to hold ten people on each side, the chairs were ornate, the floor was immaculate, and Danny was reminded once again that he was inside a multi-billionaire’s manor.

Damian, possibly sensing the boys’ anxiety, offered them seats beside himself and Danny found himself somehow sitting to the left and one down from the head of the table. Tim sat beside him (thank Ancients there would be a buffer between him and Bruce Wayne), Dick sat across from Tim, and Steph and Cass sat across from the boys (leaving one chair between them and Dick for some reason).

“Sorry I’m late!” A familiar voice called, footsteps rushing into the room. “Still not as late as Ja- oh! Uh, hi, Danny!” Duke smiled, confused, and looked around at his family.

Danny offered a smile in return. “Ah, and Damian’s lack of communication strikes again.” He jokes.

“It was not a lack of communication, Nightingale.” Damian corrects. “I simply didn’t see a point in alerting Thomas to your dinner invitation.”

“Riiiight… not like ‘Thomas’ and I are acquainted or anything.” Danny jokes as Duke takes the spot directly across from Damian beside Cass. “Sorry to surprise you at home, I didn’t realize I’d be dropping in on my employee until after I’d already agreed to come over.”

Duke shook his head. “No, don't worry about it! I just didn’t expect it!”

“Ah, Mr. Nightingale.” A deep and buttery smooth voice greeted from the other side of the room. Danny looked up to see Bruce Wayne approaching the table. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Damian’s told me quite a bit about you.”

“Sounds fake.” Danny blurted out before realizing he probably shouldn’t treat every fruitloop he met the way he treated Vlad. “Uh,” Bruce’s kids burst out in laughter. “Sorry, I didn’t.” He cleared his throat. “It’s nice to meet you too, mr. Wayne.”

Taking his seat, Bruce smiled. “Please, just Bruce is fine.”

“Then you can call me Danny. And this is Miguel and Santiago.” He pointed to the boys who were in a surprisingly deep conversation with Damian about what quantified a hero vs. vigilante vs. anti-hero. He prayed to the ancients the boys wouldn’t bring up any of the ghost stuff he’d told them about.

“Well we’re happy to have you over. It’s not often Damian brings friends home.” Bruce flashed another smile and Danny couldn’t help but feel they weren’t as genuine as they seemed. Don’t get him wrong, Bruce seemed nice enough for a fruitloop, but he definitely didn’t feel like the kind of person who was really this smiley.

On top of that, ever since they’d arrived Danny had been sensing more and more ectoplasm, both throughout the house and on the people living in it. He’d never noticed before (whether that was because everything seemed less ectoplasm-y outside of the realms he’d been living in for the last five years, or because he wasn’t observant, he didn’t know) but Damian had a strong ectoplasm signature. Tim and Dick had a bit of one too, but Bruce? Bruce had been around death no question.

Bruce looked around the table and frowned. “I thought Jay was coming by tonight?” He looked between his kids and the obviously open spot across from Danny and beside Dick. “Has anyone heard from-”

“All right all right- I’m here, don't get your panties in a twist!”  Just as a man Danny recognized waltzed into the room, Miguel let out a groan. Jason looked at the kid for a moment before taking his seat. “Yeah yeah kid, good to see you too.”

Miguel crossed his arms. “Din’t say it was good ta seeya.” 

Danny was still trying to process what was happening. So- there were nine ‘Waynes’ including Alfred, and he’d known six of them before even walking into the manor tonight. Holy shit- how did he not know all of these people were Waynes and how did he always get into these situations?

“Jason, you know our guests?” Bruce asked, surprise lacing his words.

Jason shrugged, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “A guy’s gotta have friends.” 

He was pretty sure Jason said it more to evade Bruce’s questions than anything else, but it was still nice to hear that Jason counted Danny as a friend even if they’d barely had the chance to get to know each other.

“Jason!” Santi gasped. “I finished that book you gave me- did you know it’s a series?” He asked excitedly.

Grinning, the man nodded. “Got the rest of the books if you’d like to borrow them too. But you’ve gotta write an essay about the book first and then we’ll talk about it in depth and then you can pick a different book.”

Santi nodded excitedly before turning back to Miguel and elbowing him. “Be nice.” He hissed.

Miguel eyed Jason warily, neither seemed to know what to say to the other.

Nobody in the Wayne family seemed to know what to say either- was it really so surprising that Jason was friends with them? While it had been a surprise every time someone Danny knew walked in the room, it hadn’t been quite as shocking as it seemed it was for Jason to know them. Maybe he was a bit of a loner?

“Babs can’t make it tonight.” Dick finally interjected. 

Bruce nodded, taking a sip of water. “She had that dinner with her dad, right?”

Dick nodded. “And Wally sends his love but he’s got a work thing.”

Alfred walked into the room and began dishing the first course and oh holy shit Danny didn’t know which fucking fork and spoon to use for everything. Ancients he hated fruitloops and their fruitloopy ways.

“So Danny,” Bruce started. Danny caught Jason rolling his eyes subtly. “Terrible what happened to your daycare, I hope none of the children were hurt?”

Danny nodded, thanking whoever was watching over him from having to pick a spoon for the soup. “Yeah Scarecrow and his goons did some damage but nobody was hurt thankfully. Duke was a great help keeping the kids safe.” He nodded to the boy who smiled sheepishly. “We usually have really good security but I’m going to have my guy look it over since, obviously, Scarecrow shouldn’t have been able to get in.”

“Yes, I’m sure that was quite the surprise-”

“A surprise? Come one B! The man tackled the scarecrow no hesitation! I don’t think he was that surprised!” Steph joked.

Danny blinked. He hadn’t realized the video those teens recorded had started so early. He could have sworn the teens didn’t start recording until after Phantom had appeared. “Ah, well, just had to make sure I held him off until someone showed up. Luckily Phantom was there so-”

“Phantom?” Bruce cut in.

“Just some vigilante who helped out. Not really one of Gotham’s I don’t think. But he took care of the fear gas and the goons and whatnot so Duke and I could watch over the kids.”

“Yeah, and then Red Hood showed up and kicked their asses!” Miguel added enthusiastically.

“Language.” Alfred and Danny scolded at the same time, everyone freezing to look between the two before laughing.

Miguel pouted and muttered something about how cool Red Hood had been while glaring at Jason.

Holding up his hands defensively, Jason smirked. “Hey you don’t gotta convince me kid, Red Hood’s my favorite too.”

Of course he’s your favorite, he’s your boyfriend. Danny thought forlornly.

Miguel untensed slightly. “Just because you got good taste in heroes don’t mean I like ya all the sudden.”

Jason glanced at Danny, smirk intensifying, before looking back. “Whatever you say kid.”

Ancients why was Jason looking at him like that? Danny rolled up the sleeves of his cardigan- why was it so hot in here? Were rich people just always running the heat or something? 

The conversation turned away from the daycare and onto other things. Steph and Cass seemed to be in a debate with Duke about the best flavor waffle- obviously it was chocolate chip- while the boys and Damian continued their previous discussion.

“How did you two meet?” Bruce asked, pointing his knife between Danny and Jason.

Jason sscowled. “The way that normal people meet, old man.” 

“Well we met at a clothing store with Damian.” Dick offered. “I’ve gotta say Danny, I haven’t seen Damian make a friend so easily before, how’d you do it?”

Danny shrugged. “I dunno, he’s a good kid.” Tim eyed him in shock. “He helped me set up my apartment for some cats I found and then I started sending him cat pics. He did the same, the boys wanted a cat, Dami was willing to teach them, now they’re friends.”

Dick choked. 

“Did you just call him Dami?” Tim asked cautiously, looking at the end of the table to see if the boy had heard.

Nodding, Danny leaned to see Damian. “Hey Dami?”

The boy pinched his eyes closed. “Yes? Nightingale?” He sighed.

Turning back to Dick, Bruce, and Tim who all gave him completely shocked looks, he smirked. “Nothing, never mind.”

“Tt.” 

“He’s a sweet kid.” Danny shrugged, finally just taking a wild guess and using one of the spoons to start eating the soup. While three of the Waynes stared at him like he was crazy and one stared at him like he was crazy but in a good way, Danny enjoyed every bite of the best bowl of soup he’d ever had.

Tim stared in awe. “You’re a madman.”

Danny snickered. “I have been told that on occasion. I don’t think this is all that crazy though.” He glanced down the table, making sure Damian wasn’t listening before continuing. “We hit it off right away, he’s a good kid, with a lot of knowledge, and was kind enough to help me.” Starting to grow uncomfortable with the stares he was getting, Danny changed the subject. “Enough about me, Tim, how're your boyfriends?”

Clearly knowing what Danny was doing but not caring, Tim rolled his eyes and started on some rant about how his boyfriend Kon who’d apparently made some bet about who could plan the better date for their other boyfriend Bernard. Tim pretended to be annoyed but it was obvious he loved them and their antics and Danny couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to date multiple people.

For no specific reason.

Just.

Science.

Before he knew it they’d been served the main dish which was amazing if not a bit familiar for some reason. Something about the sauce- taking a good look at what he was eating, Danny made the connection. Vindaloo. Hood brought them vindaloo once and after mentioning how much they’d liked it, he brought it again. Hood had never repeated a dish except the vindaloo. But why would they taste identical? Hood must have his own recipe for the food.

“Alf, you gotta help me out here-” Jason cut into his thoughts. “I can never get the meat as tender as you do! I’ve tried tenderizing it, marinating it, cooking it longer- what’s your secret!” 

Alfred gave Jason a knowing smile and, without a word, turned and left. While Jason pouted Danny finally connected the dots. It was either one of two answers.

One, Hood wasn’t actually cooking the food, Jason was, and Hood was just the delivery boy. Or two, Jason and Hood cooked together so Hood’s recipe came from him. Either way, it more than confirmed his theory that Hood and Jason were dating- Jason literally just said that Red Hood was his favorite vigilante!

Danny wished he could say the food stopped tasting good once he realized, but it didn’t. It tasted even better than Hood’s (Jason’s?), something Danny didn’t think possible.

“So Danny, where are you from?” Dick asked, finally sensing the lull in the conversation.

Swallowing the bite he’d been chewing for way too long, Danny wiped his mouth with the napkin. “A small town in Illinois you probably haven’t heard of. But I haven’t been there in years, traveled a bit, ended up here. Honestly, Gotham’s more like home than the town I grew up in ever was.” 

Dick frowned but Bruce is the one who responded. “Why is that?”

Danny shrugged. “My parents were the town crazies so making friends was difficult.”

Please stop asking about Jack and Maddie.

Of course luck wouldn’t be in his favor. 

“Why were they the village crazies?” Tim asked analytically.

“Father,” Damian cut in. “If we may be excused, I’d like to show Miguel and Santiago the barn.”

Bruce nodded. “Of course, you boys be careful out there.” After the boys had excused themselves, Bruce turned back to Danny. “I’m sorry, you were saying?” 

Something told Danny that Bruce really wanted to know about his parents. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt like he was being watched. He obviously was, there were many pairs of eyes on him, but it was more than that. He felt like the people watching him were analyzing him, peering into his soul, pulling back his layers and layers of defenses and digging around for what they could find inside.

It felt like back in his parents basement when he first woke up and there were cuffs around his wrists and ankles and a gag in his mouth and his parents screamed at him about killing their son. It felt like when they cut into him for the first time and rooted around in his chest, pushing and pulling with no care for what they moved or damaged, searching, searching, searching, for his core. It felt like when they turned him over to the GIW for further ‘study’ and experimentation and he learned what it felt like to lose a limb and an organ and an eye and-

“Danny?”

Seven pairs of eyes stared at him in concern. “Uh, sorry.” Danny unclenched his hand from the tablecloth and forced an uncomfortable chuckle. “Jack and Maddie were ectobiologists- they studied ghosts, the paranormal, that kind of thing. Makes people think you’re crazy and- to be fair- they were so.” Danny ended with a pathetic shrug and took a sip of water to avoid speaking anymore.

“They studied ghosts?” Steph asked, leaning over Cass to get closer to the conversation. “What was that like?”

Clearing his throat, Danny tried not to feel like he was being interrogated. “It made for an interesting childhood.” He didn’t like the way Cass was looking at him- he thought she could definitely read his body language better than he wanted. “Anyways, I certainly didn’t want to do what they did and eventually decided to move here and open a daycare.” Please let them latch onto the daycare, please-

“How’d they feel about that?” Bruce asked. Oh course the parent in the room would ask how his parents felt about his decision. Jason looked like he was about to say something but Danny was getting annoyed with this line of questioning.

A bit tired of the interrogation, Danny shrugged defiantly. “They didn’t know. I don’t exactly speak to them anymore and haven’t spoken to them since I turned eighteen.”

“Why not?” Dick asked, promptly shutting up when Jason shoved an elbow in his ribs.

“All right, well I think that’s enough interrogating our guest. What would Alfred say?” He asked, looking each Wayne in the eye. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Eat your vindaloo and shut the hell up.” Turning back to Danny, he smiled. “So Danny, what’s been your favorite part of Gotham so far?”

Oh thank Ancients for Jason Todd.

Prev. Next

[idkyetxoxo]

Daeron Targaryen - Halves of the Same Soul

Summary - Twin siblings share an unshakable bond that blurs the line between love and obsession. Courtly intrigue, forbidden desires, and dangerous secrets simmer beneath the surface—where loyalty and power collide, and no one is safe from the flames.

Pairing - Daeron Targaryen x Targaryen reader

Warnings - None

Word count - 2946

Masterlist for Daeron • House of the Dragon General Masterlist

Wherever Daeron went, I followed. As his twin sister, we were inseparable, two halves of the same whole. 

He wasn't just my brother; he was my other half in every sense. 

So when our mother decided he should go to Oldtown with our uncle, I couldn't bear the thought of being left behind. 

I begged and pleaded until she relented, agreeing that I could accompany him.

Like many of our Targaryen ancestors, the idea of marrying within our family was not foreign to us. Daeron and I had made it abundantly clear that we were ready to wed, eager to spend our lives together in the way of our kin. 

It felt natural, inevitable, as though our bond was written in the stars long before we were born.

Still, whispers spread throughout the realm of a possible match between me and Aemond, our older brother. Such talk was common in the courts, but my heart belonged to Daeron. 

One brother held my affection, and it wasn't Aemond.

"Princess, may I have this dance?" Lord Tyrell's voice cut through my conversation with Daeron and Gwayne. I glanced at the extended hand, sighing inwardly as my gaze flickered to the two men beside me. 

Gwayne smiled faintly, while Daeron's eyes remained fixed on me, unreadable.

"Of course, my lord," I replied with a polite smile, though exhaustion weighed on me. The night had been long, filled with dances and endless courtesies. 

Tonight was our name day, and yet, I was more worn out than celebratory.

As Lord Tyrell led me to the dance floor, he offered a charming smile. 

"Princess, you look absolutely exquisite this evening," he said smoothly, dipping me effortlessly in time with the music.

I returned his compliment with a gracious smile. "That is kind of you, my lord."

He twirled me around gracefully before continuing, "You are ten and six now if I am not mistaken?" His tone seemed casual, but I could sense there was more behind the question.

"I am, my lord," I answered, though I already felt a knot forming in my stomach. I wondered where this conversation was headed.

He smiled, a little too smugly for my liking. "Ah, the perfect age for a young lady to be wed. Some would say you're even a year or two past that ideal age," he said with a chuckle. 

I forced a smile, though his words stung, the humour entirely lost on me.

"An... interesting observation, my lord," I replied, trying to maintain a composed tone.

He was undeterred. "I only mean to say, Princess, that it may be time to consider your future. A union could be quite beneficial."

As he spoke, his grip on my waist tightened ever so slightly, enough to make me uneasy. His suggestion was no longer a polite inquiry—it felt more like an imposition.

"I am quite content as I am," I said, attempting to subtly pull away. But his hands only grew firmer, drawing me closer. 

A soft, involuntary whine escaped my lips as his fingers dug into my side.

"You are hurting me," I whispered, my voice barely audible above the music. He scoffed, rolling his eyes in dismissal, then leaned in closer to me, his breath hot against my ear.

"Remember this, Princess—you may wear a crown, but I am the son of the Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South. It would be wise for you not to forget your place."

I kept my voice steady, ignoring his thinly veiled threat. "I would like you to let go of me," I said calmly, though I could feel my heart racing.

"I am offering you my hand in marriage," he continued, his tone impatient now. "And it is a favourable offer, one you would be wise to consider."

"It is a kind offer, my lord—" I began, but he cut me off, pulling me even closer, far too close for propriety. His face hovered inches from mine as he leaned in again, his voice a low whisper.

"Do not decline me, Princess. Together, we could achieve great things," he murmured, and before I could protest, he pressed a lingering kiss to the curve of my neck. I squirmed in discomfort, trying to free myself from his grasp.

"This is not proper," I insisted, attempting to pull back, but his hold remained unyielding.

"And yet here we are," he said, his voice full of arrogance as he tightened his grip.

As Lord Tyrell's fingers tightened around my waist, his smug expression only deepened. 

I attempted to pull away again, but it was as if he was determined to exert his control over me, his grip growing more possessive with each passing moment.

"I am offering you something far better than waiting around for your family to choose for you," he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. 

"Perhaps you think one of your brothers will come to your rescue? Daeron, perhaps?" He chuckled darkly, his breath hot against my ear. 

"Oh, I know the whispers, Princess. It's no secret you and your twin are unnaturally close."

I stiffened, my heart pounding as his words twisted the bond between Daeron and me into something vile, something inappropriate. 

"Do not speak of things you do not understand, my lord," I said coldly, trying to maintain my composure.

But Lord Tyrell only laughed, the sound low and mocking. 

"Oh, but I do understand, Princess. Very well, in fact. The Targaryens have always had... peculiar traditions, haven't they? A little too fond of keeping things in the family, if you ask me. But I suppose it's convenient when you have two brothers to choose from."

His words stung, like barbs digging into my skin. I felt a flush of anger rise in me, but I kept my face impassive, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply his jabs had cut.

"You speak as if I have no will of my own, my lord," I replied, my voice steady despite the fury bubbling within me. "I make my own choices."

"Do you?" he sneered, pulling me even closer, his body pressing uncomfortably against mine. 

"Because from where I stand, it seems as though you're simply waiting for your family to marry you off like a broodmare. Aemond, Daeron—it's all the same, isn't it? Marry one brother, marry the other. Does it really matter which? Maybe your mother will flip a coin for you."

His laugh was cruel and biting, the insinuation laced with contempt. I felt a surge of nausea at his words. 

I had heard whispers before, rumours that clung to the shadow of our family's name like a curse, but to hear them spoken so brazenly to my face made my blood boil.

"That is enough," I said, my voice colder than ice. "I will not tolerate such disrespect, especially not from a lord of your standing."

But he only smirked, clearly enjoying the power he thought he wielded over me. 

"Come now, Princess. You should consider yourself lucky. If your brothers won't wed you, I could make a far better match. Imagine it—the daughter of dragons married to the future Lord of Highgarden. We could unite the Reach and your precious Targaryen bloodline in ways your family could never imagine."

He leaned in close again, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, "You may think you can keep hiding behind Daeron, but sooner or later, your brothers won't be able to protect you. Not from men like me."

The threat in his voice was unmistakable now, and my heart raced with both anger and fear. 

His fingers dug into my waist, his other hand creeping up to the small of my back, pulling me in so tightly I could barely breathe. 

I wanted to scream, to shove him away, but in the middle of the crowded hall, surrounded by lords and ladies, I was trapped. 

"I said let go of me," I hissed, no longer caring to mask the fury in my voice.

He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. "You act as though you have a choice in the matter, Princess. But we both know you'll be married off to the highest bidder, whether it's your brother or not. And when that day comes, you'll wish you had taken a man like me instead."

His arrogance was suffocating, the air between us thick with tension. 

I glanced over his shoulder, desperate to meet Daeron's gaze, and found his eyes locked onto us, his expression darkening with each passing second. 

He had been watching the entire time, his posture rigid as Gwayne continued speaking, oblivious to the storm brewing beside him.

Tyrell's mocking voice broke through my thoughts again. "Or perhaps it's Aemond you're holding out for?" he sneered, the taunt sharp. 

"I hear he's a real delight. Cold, brooding, but maybe that's your type. A marriage made for the histories, wouldn't you agree? I wonder, does he even look at you the way Daeron does?"

I couldn't contain my disgust any longer. 

"You are vile," I spat, finally managing to pull back enough to create some distance between us. "You speak of things that are far beyond your comprehension."

Lord Tyrell's smirk didn't falter. If anything, it widened, as though my outrage only spurred him on. 

"Oh, I comprehend perfectly, Princess. You Targaryens think you're above everyone else, that your blood makes you untouchable. But at the end of the day, you're just like any other woman—destined to be wed, controlled, and used for power. And believe me, I know how to use what's mine."

Lord Tyrell's smirk had turned predatory, his arrogance swelling with each moment I resisted him. 

I could feel my pulse quicken, but before I could respond, I saw Daeron out of the corner of my eye, rising from his seat, his face dark with fury. 

His normally calm and composed expression had twisted into something dangerous, his jaw set in a way that promised no leniency.

There was no question—he would tear the world apart for me, just as I would for him. 

We had never needed words to understand that. I felt the strength of our bond in that moment, a force as powerful as any dragon's fire.

"Is there a problem here, Lord Tyrell?" Daeron's voice was deceptively calm, but the iciness beneath it was unmistakable.

He was at my side in an instant, standing between me and Tyrell, his presence immediately shifting the dynamic. 

The crowd continued to swirl around us, oblivious to the tension mounting between the two men.

Tyrell straightened, his grip loosening slightly as Daeron's arrival forced him to back off—though not entirely. 

He maintained a cocky smile as if Daeron's presence was nothing more than a slight inconvenience.

"Prince Daeron," Tyrell said with mock deference, inclining his head but failing to mask the condescension in his tone. "Just having a dance with your lovely sister. A bit protective, are we?" 

He chuckled softly, though there was nothing friendly about the sound. "One might start to think you don't trust anyone else near her."

Daeron's eyes were dark, his stare unflinching. "My trust is earned, not given freely to men who have forgotten their manners." 

His voice was low, the threat subtle but unmistakable. "I suggest you step back before you say something you'll regret."

Tyrell scoffed, clearly unbothered by the warning. 

"Manners? I was only reminding the Princess of the realities of her position. Surely you understand, Prince Daeron, that marriage for someone like her—someone like you—is more about duty than sentiment. She will be wed to whomever best serves the realm. Or perhaps you believe your family's peculiar... preferences should continue unchecked?" 

His eyes gleamed with cruel amusement, clearly relishing the opportunity to provoke.

Daeron's lips curled into a dangerous smile, one that sent a shiver through me, though I knew it was not meant for me. 

"You are treading on dangerous ground, Tyrell," he said, stepping closer, his voice a low growl. "I would choose my next words carefully if I were you."

But Lord Tyrell was too arrogant to take heed. He glanced between Daeron and me, his smirk widening. 

"Oh, I've heard the rumours. Everyone has. King Viserys's precious twins, inseparable since birth. The realm has noticed how you look at her, Daeron." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice but ensuring his words cut deep. 

"Tell me, do you plan to wed her yourself? Has she already been defiled? Or is Aemond your real competition?" His grin was sharp, mocking. 

"Two brothers fighting over their sweet sister. It's quite the tale for the ages, isn't it?"

I felt Daeron stiffen beside me, the tension between them thickening like a brewing storm. His hand clenched at his side, his knuckles turning white. 

For a moment, I feared he would strike Tyrell right there in front of everyone.

"You think you're clever, Tyrell," Daeron said, his voice dangerously low, his anger barely restrained. "But your ignorance will be your downfall. You overestimate your place in this world."

Tyrell's smile faltered for a moment, sensing the shift in Daeron's tone, but his arrogance wouldn't let him back down. 

"I overestimate nothing, Prince. It's you and your family who believe yourselves untouchable as if the world should bend to your will simply because of the blood in your veins. But one day, even your dragons won't be enough to protect you."

Daeron's eyes burned with fury now, his posture rigid with barely contained rage. 

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them until they were nearly chest to chest, his voice a deadly whisper. "You dare speak to a Targaryen in such a manner? You think your title and your father's lands will protect you from the consequences of your insolence?"

Tyrell, to his credit, didn't back down, though I could see the slightest flicker of uncertainty cross his face. 

"I'm merely stating the obvious. We both know that she'll be wed to whomever your family chooses. If not Aemond, then perhaps me. The Reach would make a powerful ally, after all."

Daeron's smile faded completely, replaced by a look so cold it sent a chill through the air. "You will never lay a hand on her again. You speak as if you have a choice in this, but let me make something clear." 

He leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, though every word dripped with venom. 

"If you ever touch my sister again, or dare to insult her in my presence, I will see you hanged. And when your neck snaps beneath the rope, I'll have your body dragged through the streets and fed to the dogs, for that is all you'll be worth."

Tyrell's face paled slightly, though he quickly masked it with a tight smile, trying to maintain his composure. 

"A bold threat," he said, though his voice lacked its previous bravado. "But I doubt the court would allow such... savagery."

"You doubt too much, Lord Tyrell," Daeron said coldly, his eyes narrowing. "My family is not known for idle threats. You would do well to remember that." 

His hand lingered on the hilt of his sword, a subtle reminder of how easily this conversation could take a deadlier turn.

Tyrell glanced at Daeron's hand, clearly weighing his next move. 

Finally, he gave a forced laugh, stepping back slightly to regain his space. "No need for dramatics, Prince Daeron. I was merely making conversation. A misunderstanding, nothing more."

Daeron didn't move, his gaze still fixed on Tyrell as if daring him to say more. 

"Then let me make myself perfectly clear—there will be no misunderstanding next time. You will not speak of my sister again, nor will you ever touch her. Do so, and I will end you. And no amount of titles or alliances will save you."

Tyrell swallowed, his confidence visibly shaken now. He straightened his tunic, his smile brittle. 

"Of course. I wouldn't dream of offending." He turned to me with a stiff nod, his arrogance noticeably diminished. "Princess."

Without waiting for further acknowledgement, he took his leave, his steps quicker than before, as if eager to escape the tension that still hung in the air.

As soon as he was gone, I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding, my heart still racing from the confrontation. 

Daeron remained tense beside me, his gaze lingering on Tyrell's retreating form as if waiting for him to turn back and make another foolish remark.

"Daeron," I whispered, touching his arm gently to pull him from his thoughts.

He turned to me, his expression softening slightly as he met my gaze. "Are you all right?" His voice was low, filled with concern.

I nodded, though my body still trembled slightly from the encounter. "Thank you," I said softly. "I didn't know what to do. He..."

Daeron's jaw tightened again, but he forced himself to stay calm for my sake. "He's a fool, and he'll regret this. I swear it." 

He glanced toward the hall where Tyrell had disappeared, his expression dark once more. "If he ever touches you again, I will make good on my promise. The dogs will feast on his remains."

I believed him.

"You know," he said quietly, his tone softening further, "the realm may think they can decide our futures for us. But as long as we have each other, nothing else matters."

I smiled up at him, the warmth of his presence chasing away the cold that had gripped me earlier. "No one else," I whispered. "Just us."

And as he wrapped his arm protectively around me, I knew with certainty that, there was no force in the world strong enough to sever the bond between us. 

We were more than siblings—more than Targaryens bound by blood. 

We were halves of the same soul, unbreakable, and as long as we had each other, no one could tear us apart.

A/n - I know I have severely lacked in writing for Daeron recently but I've been so busy, hopefully this makes up for it <3

Daeron tag list - @alyssa-dayne

[thatshadowcomic]

Sonadow fan child mega dump

Still working on the ideas, still not 100% sold on a name... Im trying to picture Sonic and Shadow's playful banter on kids names, making fun of each other's suggestions.

Naming:

I originally thought Sky or Star or even "Terra" which is Earths name. You guys gave a lot of really good ideas, too, thank you so much!!Sunny is cute, too and Rouge calls Shadow "sunshine" a lot. Maybe something to do with water or planetary stuff, given Shadow would have looked out of the ARK with Maria a lot.

I even thought about "beauty and the beast", naming her bell relating to how Bell was "like maria" or rather, the concept of clarity bells and chimes and the sound/mysticism of bells in history as spiritually healing.

Plus it's funny to think of her being like Sonic and pulling a "DING! times up!" and destroying Eggman's future projects.

"Beauty and the beast?? Isnt Maria your sister--" "I won't entertain your crude humor. Bell accepted the beast for who he was, not what he was called or what he looked to be. Despite what she was told about him, she wanted to offer him a chance to be happy. A chance we all deserve... Regardless how it ends, the beauty of that story, at least to me, is not the romance, it's about love. Love isn't strictly romantic. She saw his heart and showed it to him, and he learned that the world might label you, but it's you who decides to accept or deny that label." "Heh, you should start a podcast-- call it stuck in a PODcast :)" "I hope she get's my humor." "And what humor is that?" "I can be very funny, Sonic. You're just... too slow." ":0"

Story one, the failed son:

He's created in the lab, hidden from GUN, but using their resources. Shadow's basically desperate because a child, to him, represents Sonic's immortality. Sonic will die one day, and Shadow fears what that means--but he also is living through the child. He wants a better version of himself, a "pure" one.

Doom's blood is removed, but several embryos fail completely. He finds a new "stabilizer" in the way of a chaos emerald shard, which Sonic would have never allowed, had he known. I think at some point Shadow would become as obsessed as Gerald, which causes Sonic to back off a bit...

Basically this creates a chain reaction:

Shadow abandons the kid with Sonic, after Sonic learns about the shard and warns Shadow that this could be a disaster. Shadow hides on the ARK, fearful that one day he will be the only one strong enough to destroy/stop his child, should he lose control to the Chaos energy coursing through him. Using the power only harms him, but really, it's turning him into a uncontrollable vessel of chaos, like biolizard.

Somehow Shadow hopes that losing any attachment to the kid will allow his destruction to be easier, but to Sonic, he gave up, accepting the kid as doomed. Sonic resents this deeply, even if he doesnt outright say it...He wonders if Shadow could have helped him manage his powers.

Ultimate power:

In reality, the child's need for validation is the very reason he would lose control in the first place, desperate to control his powers. Sonic would try to convince him he can just be his normal self, not to use the powers, as they damage him each time. But the kid eventually loses it and tries to draw shadow out of the ARK by destroying everything he can, until Shadow can see him from space.

"You love this planet more than me... Then defend it, coward--"

Damn, the fight scene would be awful-- I picture him warping in and just decking the kid, how heart wrenching. I'm sure Sonic would be stuck between, unsure what to do. I'm not sure how it ends?

Myabe they remove the emerald and he dies? or he becomes goop like Chaos? maybe a chao egg is left behind, which might hint at something bigger within Shadow himself??

Idea two, Birth:

Basically, Shadow's body evolves to grow an egg, maybe a normal Blackarm's thing that happens from time to time, maybe something to do with some Blackarms leftover idk, but point is he ends up hiding and pretending to be at GUN or on missions until finally Sonic tries to track him down and finds him laying in some forest, in labor. Technically this is Mpreg, but visually they look the same.

He reassures him, but Shadow can't understand why sonic isn't horrified.

"What do you want me to do, call you a freak and leave? I'm sure all mobians are freakish to humans, just like humans are freakish to mobians-- Hey, my little brother has two tails with a messed up joint that lets him fly! And your dad turned into a giant demonic root ball, even that comet was made of living goop all glued together, Shadow--laying an egg is the least of your worries!"

He jokes that he can have a melt down about the pregnancy being hidden later on, instead he'd rather focus on helping him. He has 3 small eggs but one begins to grow roots like the Blackarms and it takes over the other two, only making Shadow more distressed.

He wonders about taking it to the ARK, working with the commnader until they can determine that it's safe, but Sonic jokes, "You can try, but you know I won't let you take 'em, hehehe" But Shadow can feel the serious threat underlying. He doesn't want it to be treated like a monster either and wonders what the best course of action is.

"Do you really think humanity will accept this child if it looks anything like the Blackarms? If I looked any more like them?"

Story elements:

A lot of this story would be focused on Shadow's gradually rising tension as the egg grows, while sonic seems to be in a weird state of normalcy, but also struggling to actually comfort Shadow.

"Yknow, knuckles was born in an egg." "Sonic... we have no idea what's inside of this... I wasn't suppose to be fertile, let alone this! This sint a joke, sonic! What twisted creature could come from this-- what if this is just another facet of Doom's plan?! I already lost control of my mind, now I don't even have control over my body?!" Maybe Shadow and the commander already talked. He'd want to know why Shadow's suddenly requesting so much time off, only for the professor and Shadow to reveal everything. To their shock, the commander would support shadow... "Maria was like a sister to both of us... I think in her eyes... this might be my niece or nephew." The words make shadow tense, he wasn't prepared for this conversation, let alone the commander's unusual response. "You know I hate failing, Shadow-- Ive already failed her enough. I won't fail anymore. *Ahem* I expect a full report, given you've already met my grandchild..."

Remember, the commander offered shadow to come see his grandchildren in shadow the hedgehog (2004), so I'd like to think he's trying really hard to be better.

Really feeling this scheme

Guys can you help me with sonadow baby names

I have no idea what to say, but I want it to feel meaningful to Shadow, but maybe they have a real name and a "cool" name, like Sonic, Tails, y'know?

Might go with a girl? I just wanna make one to know what that looks like.

Thinking Navy. Maybe Ashen color. I think there'll start Ashen purple, later becoming darker, indigo-navy color, possibly stripes but idk, they would still have Blackarms DNA

[wardenparker]

In the Still of the Night, ch 3

Zach Wellison x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Grown up and looking to the future, Zach Wellison and bunkmate Shane Morrissey are working for a new cruise line that offers its guests a vintage Vegas experience on the Mediterranean. The romantic atmosphere is rubbing off on many of the crew members, and Zach finds himself to be no exception when he meets the beautiful lead singer of Shane's band.

But being wrapped in the seductive arms of an atmospheric cruise is a far cry from real life. How will their relationship fare on dry land? They can't know unless they try.

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, cooking, eating, discussion of clothing/costumes. Mentions of prison time served, mentions of past homelessness.* Flirting, still a little awkwardness, blindfold, sensory deprivation, foreplay, oral sex (female receiving). Summary: Your day out with Zach gets more intense at every turn. Notes: Hopefully you're all enjoying the prolonged date as much as we -- and they -- are! (As always, chapter gifs are for the vibes, not to physically describe the characters.)

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

It isn't hard for anyone who sees you during the rest of the day to spot the dreamy couple out on a date. The older woman who shows you to your table at the restaurant Zach picked out for dinner gives you a wink in agreement that he's an absolute cutie pie and comes back a few minutes later with two glasses of wine and a candle for your table despite none of the others having one set out.

He had chosen a restaurant that was more local than tourist and had been thrilled when there was no formal dress code. Eager to sit down with you after so much walking and talk about more of anything and everything that has been the topics of the day. “So how did you start out singing?” He asks curiously.

“My elementary school had a chorus.” It might be the first time in hours you haven’t been holding hands, but you’re still smiling as you sit side by side with your wine watching the sun set. “I stuck with it because I was a kid and it was fun, then the dance lessons got added, and then as I got older I realized that I also liked theater. It became a combination.”

“So you were a theatre kid.” He nods in understanding. He hadn’t been, but he had been friends with some and understood the passion of performing even if he didn’t have it.

“That’s how I ended up in New York.” You tell him, expression twisting into something like regret. “Just another small town kid convinced they could be the next Broadway star. Obviously that didn’t happen.”

“But you tried.” He reminds you, leaning against your shoulder and wishing he could take away the sadness. “Some people never try.”

“I go between thinking that maybe I should have tried harder, and wondering why I ever bothered at all.” With that offer of support there, you lean against his shoulder in turn and shrug gently. “It is what it is, I guess. But…how did you start cooking?”

Zach sighs softly, knowing that it would eventually come up. “Actually, I just started cooking a few years ago.” He admits.

“You did?” That surprises you enough to turn your head and look at him more fully. “So it’s just at natural talent, then?”

“I guess?” He shrugs slightly. “I got a job working in a kitchen. Saved my life.” He tells you. “Threw myself into it and experimented as much as I could and read everything I could get my hands on.”

“So you stumbled into your calling.” There is something else there, something he doesn’t want to tell you, so you don’t push. “That’s wonderful, though. Some people never find what they’re meant to do in their whole lives.”

“It helps with my anxiety.” He admits with a self deprecating grin. “So I decided that it was the best thing for me. One day I’d like to have a restaurant. One that I can plan every detail, down to free meals for the homeless.”

“I love that.” Without hesitation, the idea is not only a kind one but one you can tell means a great deal to him. “Some places have a system where you can pay for meals for others in advance, too. System like that can be used to pay for extra supplies so no one ever has to be turned away.”

“That would be amazing.” He’s had benefited from that kind of system before, but not often. And he knows how uplifting a good, hot meal can be when you are down.

"You can make it happen." Something in your gut tells you that he can and he will, and even though you have no stake in it, you can't help but feel proud of him for that.

“I’m hoping.” He flashes you a grateful grin. Even your confidence in him sounds so sure when he’s always wondered if he can succeed. “The club on the ship has given me so many ideas.”

"I've been eating your ideas," you remind him with a grin. "And they're fantastic. You're really good, Zach. Any place would be lucky to have you and any team would be lucky to have you lead them."

“What about you?” He asks. “This has to be a stepping stone for you. I’ve already heard from the crew that you might have some head hunters after you.” One of the passengers was apparently connected in the music industry and had been in to the club several nights.

"If I do, that's news to me." Whatever murmurings Zach has heard, you haven't. But you would be lying if you claimed not to be curious. "I don't know, honestly. I think I would rather be a headliner in a little club than wave a rose in a Broadway chorus for the rest of my life. But the chances of either are relatively slim." You take a sip of your wine and offer him a smile, shrugging one shoulder. "In my dreams I'm getting top billing in the biggest musicals and you're running the most popular restaurant in the country. Ultimate New York City power couple."

“That sounds amazing.” Zach chuckles. “Actually, running this style club, I think it would work in New York.” He tells you. “A dinner club.”

"I know it's something that you see in retirement communities in Florida, but I have always loved dinner theater." His laugh is sweet and deep and rolls through you like a wave of joy. "This club is such a great gig for people like us."

“Yes it is, but imagine….” He sighs softly. “Creating a headliner show like you would see in Vegas, right in New York and pairing it with a daily changing menu like we do here.”

"New York would love a show like that." It sounds so doable when he says it. Like a dream you could reach for and pluck out of the sky.

“It would be sold out.” He agrees, flashing a hopeful smile. “One day, maybe if I had the right singer to run the show side of things.”

"I guess you're going to have to get to know some singers then, aren't you?" His bright smile is reflected right back at him, teasing as always but it's because part of you can't dare to dream this big for yourself. Only for him.

“I will.” He nods and shrugs. “Maybe hold auditions or something. Singing for your supper?”

"That's what most of us do." You agree, not wanting your smile to flicker at all even if the memories sting. "Sometimes literally."

Zach catches the change, the dimming of the light in your eyes and he knows that he’s touched on a sensitive topic for you. “I get it.” He promises quietly. “I think I gravitated towards cooking because I knew if I was making food for others, I would not have that gnawing ache of hunger ever again.” He licks his lips. “Food insecurity, the therapist called it.”

Your heart sinks, chest tightening, and you nod as you slip your hand back into his. "I wish I was more surprised to find out that more than a few of us have been there. But a job like ours...with guaranteed housing and meals and a way to save money for months at a time? It makes sense that it would attract people who have had it hard."

Of course you would be understanding. His eyes close as he nods, feeling a little choked up by the compassion in your voice and the understanding in your touch. “Absolutely. And I hate that you’ve had a moments bad luck.” He murmurs. “You deserve so much.”

"So do you." You squeeze his hand gently. "Bad luck doesn't make us bad people."

“Not at all.” His hand slips from yours and his arm wraps around your shoulders protectively. “Now - before we start choking up, what do you want to try?” He wants this date to be nothing but a lovely moment for you and he tries to steer the conversation to more positive thoughts.

Without saying another word about it, you turn your head to kiss his cheek and refocus on the menu in his hands. They have enough tourists in town that the menu from this restaurant has one-sentence item descriptions in English that simply tell non-Greek speakers the main ingredients of each dish. A quick glance around you shows you that everything here seems to be served family style, and you settle in Zach's side again happily.

"How does this sound?" You ask, pointing out the special. Gamopilafo. The menu says, with Arnáki Stamnagathi. "Greek risotto with lamb and vegetables?"

“That sounds amazing.” Zach groans happily and nods. “Do you want to get that and something else?” He doesn’t want you to share with him if you are just trying to make the bill cheaper, he can afford paying for dinner.

"It looks like it's family style? Maybe we can get another side dish to go with it so we can try more?" You shrug slightly, knowing that food was just a topic of some stress for both of you. "Sharing sounds nice. But not if you don't want to."

“I’m not opposed to sharing at all.” He promises, leaning in and nudging his nose to yours. “I’ll share anything with you.”

"Promises, promises." It's too tempting to have him close and not indulge in another kiss, but you keep it short and chaste in case Zach isn't too into public displays of affection. The half dozen or so kisses that you have shared today have been relatively private so you want to respect that for him.

Zach smiles, beams really. “What else do you want, baby?” The term of endearment slips out, but he doesn’t try to take it back or apologize. Feeling like it’s just the natural next step of this amazing day.

While the honest answer is him, that isn't what he's asking so you pull yourself out of the dirty thoughts you've been having on and off all damn day and look back down at the menu. In the top section there is something that lists cheese, fruit, bread, and flavored local olive oil, so you point that out. "Cretan charcuterie plate to start?"

“I think that’s a good idea.” Zach agrees and smiles at you. “We can see if we can come up with our own ideas for a board.”

"We'll have enough menu ideas for three new restaurants if we let our imaginations wander." Which is not a bad thing at all, but it does have both of you grinning when the waitress comes over to take your order.

Zach orders for the both of you, checking in with his eyes to make sure that it’s everything you want and hands the menu over with a pleasant smile for the waitress. Enjoying the knowing glances she shoots between the two of you. “I think that she thinks we are newlyweds or something.” He confesses quietly when she walks away. “What do you think?”

“Maybe.” Don’t be so you, you remind yourself for the hundredth time in your head. “I don’t know how many people come around here being cuddly on a fantastic day-long first date.”

“It has been fantastic, hasn’t it?” He muses, reminding himself that neither one of you has walked away or even been upset today. Not really.

“I think so.” There are clearly more things to talk about in your future, but today has left you optimistic that that future could exist. “I’m glad you do, too.”

“So, what’s your favorite type of wine?” He asks. “With charcuterie? Are you a white wine or sangria girl?”

“I’m a whatever wine you serve me kind of girl,” you tell him with an amused laugh. “But I do love sangria. There are very few things that aren’t made better with a glass of sangria or a margarita.”

“A margarita; huh?” He smirks. “Salt on the rim or sugar?”

“Depends on the flavor.” After all, your palate isn’t nonexistent, it’s just uneducated. “But usually salt.”

“A watermelon margarita is my favorite.” He admits. “Salt and sugar on the rim.”

“Salt and sugar?” That has you raising an eyebrow. “Color me intrigued.”

“It’s delicious.” He chuckles. “Goes with a hamburger or ribs. Drinks just like water.”

“That sounds incredible.” It sounds absolutely mouthwatering, actually, and you crack a grin. “Maybe I’m just really hungry.”

“Next crew party why don’t we do sliders and margaritas?” He offers. “I think you’d love it.”

“It sounds amazing.” You can agree to that without hesitation. “But I would also eat an old sneaker if it came out of your kitchen, so just know I’m always here for your food.”

“So boil shoe leather.” He pretends to make a note and laughs when you shove him playfully.

“You boil shoe leather and I’ll sing scales off key. Our worst work night ever.”

Zach throws his head back and laughs. The deep, belly laugh of a man who is completely convinced that it possible could happen and finds it up-roaringly funny. “You’re perfect.”

“You’re perfect.” He doesn’t need to know that a musical lyric sprung to mind instantly. He doesn’t need to know that you’ve been thinking it for an hour or more now. But you do hope he knows that the absolute affection shining in your eyes is honest and real.

He hums, not exactly able to take a compliment as well as he can give one. Instead he clinks his wine glass against yours. “To being perfect together.” He offers with a smile.

Neither of you take compliments well, you note with a smile, but drink deeply from your glass and enjoy a private smile that he unknowingly completed the thought of the song lyric in your head. “I know you’re supposed to wait until the end of the date to say it,” you set down your glass, thank the waitress when she brings over the first course, and restart your thought after a few seconds. “But I really think we should do this again.”

Zach’s heart leaps at your comment, happy that you have said that. “Well, of course we should.” He agrees, winking at you as he starts to dip a crusty piece of bread into the seasoned olive oil. “But I was thinking maybe we spend a little more time together on the ship when we can?”

"We could always skip the crew parties now and then to have time to ourselves." Following suit, you dive into the cheese board along with him. The cured olives and soft cheese are calling your name. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

“I mainly go to the crew parties to see you.” Zach confesses with a shy smile, offering you the dipped bread after he’s spread a bit of goat’s cheese on top of it.

"I–" Your eyes drop, your whole face heats, and you clear your throat before offering him an olive that you have stuffed with a pinch of soft sheep's milk cheese. "I go to the crew parties to see you."

Zach snorts and shakes his head. “We are pathetic.” He teases. “Mooning over each other and not even aware of it until Shane makes you take me a drink.”

"He tried to tell me," you admit after trying the bite that Zach made for you. Like everything else he's ever fed you, it's perfect. "I just...didn't really think I had a shot."

“He would always talk about you.” He huffs. “Making that crush I was suffering under nearly unbearable.” He smirks. “I guess he was hoping to push me into making a move.”

“And when you didn’t, he pushed me instead.” Which is a very Shane thing to do, really. He’s always been a little bit too cocky for his own good. “He’s like my big brother. So it makes perfect sense that he would meddle endlessly.”

“He basically adopted me once we became roommates.” Zach agrees. “He’s a good guy with a surprisingly big heart.”

“It took him a while to get there,” you acknowledge, not quite knowing how much of Shane’s story he had shared with Zach. “But now that he has? He’ll be damned if he doesn’t help everyone that he can.”

“Yeah.” Zach nods. “From what he’s told me, he’s completely different than when he was first sent away.”

“He showed me a picture once. Oh how he dresses and everything back then.” Just keeping the topic about appearance is lighthearted. That way you don’t dip too far into past seriousness. “Even if that was the only thing that changed, he really is a completely different guy now.”

“Jet black hair.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Dude has amazing hair now. I’m a little jealous of it.” Shane still has earrings, but he’s no longer sporting the goth edge he had back in his younger years.

“Do you ever think about growing yours out?” Zach still has short-trimmed hair that is probably a cinch to take care of, but he might look great with it longer.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve worn it long.” He admits, rubbing his hand up the back of his head. “Since high school.” He snorts. “But I’ve not given it a lot of thought, honestly. Why? You think it would look good longer?” He asks, curious about your preferences. Everyone has them, it’s like preferring clean shaven over a beard.

“I caught myself wondering once if your hair was curly when it grows out,” you admit, clearing your throat a little from being flustered. Admitting that you’ve wondered and daydreamed about him is a big step to your mind.

“Yeah?” A slow, pleased grin starts to stretch across his face as he turns back towards you again. “Daydreaming about running your fingers through my hair?”

“Maybe.” The huff in your voice is pure embarrassment, though you’re glad that he seems to like the idea rather than being weirded out by it.

“Then I have to confess something…” he drops his voice down to a whisper like it’s a secret. “I really love when the hairdresser runs her fingers through my hair when cutting it.”

It feels like a far more visceral tease than you’ve been giving him, and you can practically feel how soft his shirt hair is when your eyes flick up to it. “Noted,” you manage to huff out a second later, banishing the mental image of Zach beneath you as you card your fingers through growing curls.

He smirks and winks at you when you manage to look at him again, finding it incredibly empowering to know that you are on the same level as he is. Both of you wanting so much, but being too shy to reach for it. Someone will have to make a move, but right now, he’s enjoying the flirting and bantering.

Neither of you seem to care much that it takes longer to make bites out of your appetizer if you hold hands, enjoying the small show of intimacy more than anything else. You're loathe to give up that connection now that you have it.

Zach enjoys sharing with you. Often making bites for you to try, and he smiles every time you groan in pleasure.

“Just because I have no idea how to cook anything doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it,” you insist, and you’re laughing together when your waitress brings out your shared entree. The large and shallow bowl is obviously meant to be shared but is beautifully arranged — vegetables bringing color with the creamy risotto-like grains and tantalizingly seared and roasted lamb.

“Many blessings.” She is smiling at both of you as she puts the food down between you. “Happy marriage to young love.”

“Thank you.” Zach doesn’t correct her, beaming instead and bringing up your hand and kissing the back of it. If they believe that you are newlyweds, who are you to disclaim it?

Seeing him go with the assumption instead of correcting the woman makes your heart swell. There is something deeply soft and intimate about the gesture and you’re sure you must look so deeply entranced by your date that protesting wouldn’t do any good anyway.

“Soulmates?” The older woman asks, looking at the two of you with the pride of a grandmother.

Zach bites his lip, unsure of how to answer that, so he just wings it. “What do you think?” He asks, reaching out and caressing your cheek. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

"Very." The woman agrees, and with another proud smile she clasps both of your shoulders and heads off again to the kitchen with the purpose and speed of someone off to share vital gossip.

Zach smiles at you. “Well, I guess that makes us official.” He hums. “What do you think?” He asks, lifting a brow. “Want to be my girlfriend? Or should we jump straight to soulmate and wife?” He asks. “We’ve already gotten approval here.”

"It might be a little dramatic to show back up to the ship married." And yet you're grinning. You're absolutely beaming at him in a way that can't possibly be contained and for the first time today you don't want it to be. "But I love the sound of girlfriend."

“I’m sure we wouldn’t have been the first couple to have done that.” He doesn’t take offense to you ignoring the remark about soulmates. He’s seen you without sleeves enough to know that you don’t have his tattoo. You can’t be his soulmate, but he is drawn to you like he’s never been to another woman. “But girlfriend sounds perfect to me too.”

"I'm not one of those people that swears soulmates are the only possible relationship," you explain, as the two of you rearrange your little table to share your entree comfortably. The waitress had also brought you fresh drinks so the little table is loaded down with tantalizing options. "My parents aren't soulmates and they've been happily married for almost forty years. It's a great thing, but I always thought choosing your person yourself was more important than anything else."

“Interesting.” Zach is impressed and he nods. “I know that soulmates aren’t everything, but my parents were.” He tells you, smiling a little sadly. “They were probably the best relationship I’ve ever seen.”

"We both had good role models for healthy relationships. That's far more rare than it should be, I think." You note the past tense in his words but don't push, instead watching as he carefully serves the meal onto the two smaller plates you were given.

The lamb smells amazing and Zach is already drooling, imagining what he could make. “Are you ready to give me ideas?” He teases as he looks up from finishing plating.

"Dinner ideas?" You raise an eyebrow at him and pick up your fork, feeling bold with the help of the waitress who broke the ice and managed to make you Zach's girlfriend with a touch of cute teasing. "Or dirty ideas?"

“I accept all ideas.” Zach promises, his voice dipping down slightly, turning sensual.

"Fuck." Even just a quiet groan of frustration from you is enough to let him know exactly where you're at. Every single time he kisses you, you're convinced that you're going to soak through your shorts, and you no longer care if he knows it or not.

“I’ve been thinking about something.” Zach starts, forking up a bite of the risotto and trying it with a groan of approval.

"Tell me." There have been a few more serious topics touched on today without delving too deep, but you have faith that whatever it is that's on his mind won't be bad.

“We don’t have to be back on the ship until tomorrow morning.” The club is closed for the night while in port since the majority of the passengers are on shore. “What do you think about not going back tonight?”

"Like...find a little hotel?" Your fork is halfway to your mouth when you meet his eyes, seeing that there is the same spark of desire there as in your own. "That would certainly be more comfortable than using one of our bunks after we kick our roommate out," you agree, letting a grin crawl across your face.

“We don’t have to.” He stresses, not wanting you to feel like he expects to spend the night with you.

"I know." But you shrug with just a touch of guilt. "And if you want to wait that's totally fine. But...I definitely want to."

“I want to.” He is quick to reassure you of that. “I really want to. I just—” he bandied about for the right words. “Didn’t want to come off as pushy.”

"Pushy is normally my problem." you promise him. "The other part of Shane's whole 'be less you' advice was not rolling up to our first date and telling you we would make beautiful children." It's still of a hell of a way to come on strong so you laugh it off, but it's true all the same. "You've been anything but pushy, baby."

“You would have beautiful babies with Shrek.” He snorts, shaking his head. “My genes would have nothing to do with it.”

"Don't count yourself out." The grin on your face slides sideways and the two of you dig into your dinner in earnest. "Those curls of yours on a little baby? Cuties."

He blushes slightly, imagining how a baby with you would look. It’s a fantasy that he never even imagined being able to consider just a few years ago. “Only because of you. And most babies are cuties anyway.”

“They are.” That’s just a fact as far as you’re concerned. The two of you continue to eat for another minute or so before your mind catches up with all the possible consequences of that topic coming up and you almost stutter as you reach for your wine glass. “I’m—I’m on birth control, though,” you point out. Like he might think you’re trying to baby trap him on the first date just because you think babies are cute. “That’s…like I want kids eventually but I’m not crazy about it.”

This is happening. Zach swallows a bite of the deliciously fragrant and juicy lamb so he doesn’t choke. “Good. I mean, I would still want to wear a- birth control shouldn’t just be on you.” He tells you. “I’m clean, but I- it’s always good to- you know, uh, be safe.”

“I’m clean too, and if you feel more comfortable with a condom that’s totally fine, I just—” Who knows if more wine is actually a good idea at this point but you take about gulp out of nerves. “I didn’t want you to think I had any motivation for…you know…tonight, other than really liking you.”

He has to laugh at that, reaching for your hand and winking at you. “You’re focusing on your career. I don’t think that your grand plan is to be knocked up by the chef of the club you headline your first contract out.” He promises.

“Well when you say it like that it sounds silly.” And yet? A part of you is certain, beyond any doubt whatsoever, that if it happened you could be such a happy little family.

He smirks slightly and reaches over to brush off a tiny bit of sauce on the edge of your mouth. “So we both know where we stand.” He hums. “Let’s just relax and enjoy where our night takes us.”

******

With the sun set and your meal finished, an intimacy has settled over you and Zach as you sip your coffee together and listen to the busy streets of Knossos bustle with tourists and nightlife. Normally you would be part of that. You would be out with friends or searching out a feeling to get lost in — but today has been so thorough in proving that you can simply get lost in Zach that you don’t want to stray. Everything you could possibly want for your night is right here next to you. And it’s a type of calming feeling that you don’t know you’ve ever felt with another person before.

“That was probably the best meal I’ve ever eaten.” Zach rubs his stomach appreciatively and looks over at you. “Lamb on the menu for the club?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” You’ll eat anything he cooks anyway. But having it be a special memory between the two of you? That’s worth bragging about. “With those whipped carrots you made yesterday? Oh my god.”

“You liked those?” He grins, loving feedback as much as the next person and if it comes from you it makes it even sweeter. “I’ve been thinking about making it a soufflé and putting a topping on it. Similar to a sweet potato soufflé? What do you think? Too much?”

“I don’t know,” you admit with a grin spreading across your face. “I’ve never had a soufflé before.”

“You’ve never had a sweet potato casserole?” His eyes widen. “You’re shitting me?”

You shrug weakly, yet can’t help but laugh at how strong his reaction is. “My dad hates sweet potatoes,” you explain between giggles. “We basically ate like toddlers in my house forever, because he only liked four or five foods.”

“Wow.” He chuckles. “So I know what I’m making you tomorrow.” He grins. “Roasted chicken with sweet potato soufflé, creamed spinach and a fresh cranberry compote.”

“We just ate.” Sure, your tone is complaining, but the teasing is clear and sparkling in your eyes. “Why do you have to make me hungry all over again?”

Laughing, he leans over slightly to pull his wallet out to pay. Having cash is something of a safety net to him, although he’s proud of the shiny credit card with a low limit as he builds his credit back up. Offers have started coming for pre-approval of credit limits, but he’s resisted getting one so far. He pays this card off every month like clockwork. “I’ll let you sleep it off first.” He promises.

A different woman comes out with your check and a small folded bag. She smiles when she sees Zach ready to pay, and hands you the bag. “Congratulations,” she explains in a thick but clear accent. “From my grandparents. They’re very flattered you chose their restaurant for your honeymoon.”

Zach immediately feels guilty. “No— nothing is necessary.” He promises, shaking his head. “We are happy to be here. The food was amazing.”

"It's just a few cookies," she promises, apparently charmed by the display of manners. "And we're always glad to have kind guests."

“Everyone here has been wonderful.” Zach smiles as he hands over his card. “Now we just need to find a hotel with people as wonderful.”

"You don't have a place to stay already?" The bill is easily and silently settled with the exchange of a few bills between them and the woman points down the beach to a three-story white building on the edge of the beach. "Dite is a beautiful hotel. Small. But very nice. And you will see the perfect sunrise in your room."

“What do you think, sweetheart?” He asks, turning towards you. “I think it sounds just about perfect, if they have a room available.”

“Small sounds perfect.” In fact, after the bustle of the ship, it sounds like a small relief. “Thank you for the suggestion.”

“I will call for you.” She offers. “Family.”

“That would be wonderful.” You look to Zach for confirmation. “The hotel is my treat. I promise.”

He huffs, frowning slightly at the notion of you paying and there is a grin on the woman’s face as she nods in approval. “I will go call right now and let them know you are coming.” She beams before scampering off.

“It’s okay.” Sensing a bit of hurt pride that you dismiss as typically male, you lean over and kiss Zach’s cheek. “You can buy our breakfast.”

He can’t tell you that it’s because he somehow still looks at someone paying for something – even if it benefits them – as a handout. That is way too deep for this date and probably means he needs to schedule a visit with the VA therapist next time he’s in New York. “Sounds good, sweetheart.” He hums.

It only takes a few minutes for the younger waitress to return, and when she does she is smiling broadly. To Zach she hands a slip with the name and address of the hotel. “They’re getting your room ready now,” she tells you both gladly.

“Thank you.” He smiles. “For everything.”

“Our pleasure.” She assures him, and trots off again after saying good night.

He turns towards you and gives you a searching look. “Are you ready?”

"Absolutely." Considering you can see the hotel from here, you don't mind walking. A stroll through the streets of the ancient city, hand in hand with your newly minted boyfriend? It sounds perfect to you.

Zach scoots out of the seat and holds out his hand to you. “Then let’s walk off this amazing dinner.”

The roads and the beach stretch on longer than you anticipate but the walk is welcome. You're most quiet, enjoying each other's company without the need to fill the air with idle conversation. You take in the city around you and the overwhelming number of tourists. The hustle and the bustle is beautiful, but something about the fact that you can be comfortable in the quiet with Zach brings and unexpected extra layer of intimacy to the night.

Walking hand in hand is intimate, serene. He doesn’t feel the need to make excuses or fill the silence, he just enjoys the way the smiles seem to be just for you as a couple, coming from others who pass you on the streets.

The hotel is clean and bright, and the extended family of the folks who owned the restaurant are as sweet as can be when you check in. They’ve put you in a top floor room facing the ocean and promise you it’s their best, and you and Zach take the stairs up after thanking them once more.

“I feel bad.” Zach muses. “They think we are on our honeymoon.”

“First dates can be just as special as honeymoons, right?” You offer as you make your way down the hall to your room. “I checked their rates online and it was the same as what we paid. So they’re not giving us big discounts or anything. If they had, I would have said something.”

“Good.” He feels better about that and his stomach twists in nervous anticipation. You both had stopped in a little shop where he had purchased a small box of condoms. They feel heavy in his pocket.

“Hey.” The leaden heaviness sits between you as you unlock the door to your room and push it open. Before you even make a move to step inside, you settle your hand on Zach’s arm and offer him a soft, reassuring smile. “Just because we want to doesn’t mean we have to tonight, okay? We can decide to just hang out and cuddle and sleep beside each other and it will still be perfect.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” He asks seriously, trying not to look disappointed, because he doesn’t want that to pressure you.

“Not at all.” You’re quick to assure him of that, pushing open the door and stepping inside. “You just seem…nervous? I don’t know, maybe I’m wrong.”

“Afraid of disappointing you.” He admits with a small huff of amusement at himself as he flashes you a grin. “It’s been a while for me.”

"Then I'm flattered you would choose me to be the one to break that dry spell with." It really is a vote of confidence from him, and you won't take that for granted. Despite the fact that you don't understand how in the hell anyone has ever let him go, you're glad to be the person that is here and ready to see all of the potential he has as a partner.

“I would be fucking crazy not to.” Zach snorts, shaking his head. “Baby you are gorgeous and kind, and everything I don’t deserve.”

"Hey now." You shake your head as you shut the door behind the two of you, flipping the lock and feeling the shiver of anticipation roll through you. But still, hearing him put himself down is the last thing you're comfortable with and when you turn back to Zach you slide your hands up his arms gently. "I wouldn't let somebody else talk about you like that, what makes you think you get to?"

“Habit.” He admits, biting his lip and reaching for your waist to draw you closer. “I’m working on it.”

"I'm here to remind you how incredible you are anytime you need." A strong support system means everything, you learned that the hard way. And you're more than happy to be that for Zach.

“Thanks.” There’s a bit gratefulness and quite a bit of amazement in his eyes as he looks at you. “You are absolutely amazing, you know that?” He asks. “You take my breath away.”

Your hands creep up his arms, sliding around his neck so your fingers can sink into his short, soft hair. "I'd be happy to do that for you literally, if you'd like."

“How would you do that?” He has a pretty good idea, but he wants to hear what you have in mind.

The hum that leaves your lips as you press your body against his is full of promise. "I'd start at the top and work my way down, of course," you tell him, bringing Zach down to meet your lips for a searing kiss.

He can’t help but groan, a grown man melting against you, but he’s already weak in the knees from the passion in just this one kiss. The sense of complete rightness that washes over him as his own arms band around you tighter and he starts to give back to you.

None of the kisses you had shared yet today had been allowed to be this deep. You were in public. You were sharing space with other people. And this is so intensely intimate. It would have felt wrong just to let other people see your naked heart out there on your sleeve. But when it is just the two of you locked safely away in the privacy of a hotel room? You would be a puddle at his feet if it weren’t for the uncanny strength of him holding you tight against his chest.

It’s not hard for his body to respond instantly. He’s already lived most of the day in a state of arousal just being around you. But with the length of your body pressed against his and your tongue coaxing his further into your mouth? He is rock hard and aching. Groaning slightly as he turns both of you towards where the bed should be based on the split second examination of the room earlier.

And just like that you feel ignited. The press of his body against yours as he steers you blindly through around the room is an errant spark that seems to catch on every inch of you. With one hand your fingers card and tug in his hair, nails grazing over his scalp. With the other you pull his shoulders to keep him impossibly close — feeling like you’ll forget to breathe if you stop sharing gasps with him between kisses.

You taste like sweet wine and cream. A perfect combination when mixed with something that is just…you. He can’t describe it, but it’s warm and earthy.

The backs of your legs bump against the bed frame, almost toppling you over and making you hang onto Zach all the more tightly, giggling into the kiss. “Oops,” You can’t help but laugh at how deeply uncoordinated it was, even as out of breath as you are. “Weak knees aren’t very stable, apparently.”

“Then we should lay down.” Zach suggests, grinning against your lips and starting to crouch down.

It doesn’t exactly take convincing. Not when every single time he’s kissed you today has turned you a soaking wet, needy mess. The fact that you finally get to do something about it is exhilarating and relieving all at once. “Hell yes,” you agree, nearly hauling him into the bed with you when you try to kiss him and move at the same time.

He laughs when you both nearly topple over, flopping down on your sides in a move that is not nearly as graceful as he had planned in his mind. “Eager?” He asks. Sliding his hand down your side to your ass.

“Oh, absolutely.” You smirk, but shift your leg ever so slightly so your thigh presses against the front of his shorts. “Just as much as you are.”

“Baby, have you looked in the mirror?” Zach groans, twitching under the pressure. “You’re a complete knockout and fucking sweet as pie.”

“As long as you like what you see, the mirror doesn’t matter.” What you see and what he sees looking at you will never be quite the same, so as long as he likes the version of you that he sees, you’re fine with it.

Zach doesn’t say anything else, he just slowly leans in and presses his lips to yours softly.

It’s such a sweet, gentle gesture that you melt deeper into the mattress. For that one moment there are no thoughts at all left in your head. It’s just Zach and the possibilities.

He follows you, body half covering yours as he lets the kiss deepen slightly. Not too much, but he squeezes your ass gently as he grinds into you.

The roll of his hips earns him a moan, and he swallows it up eagerly so you give him another and hitch one leg up to let him get closer.

He presses deeper into you, slotting his hips between yours as you open up and he gasps into your mouth when his hard cock presses against the heat of your core.

The heat in your belly flares hotter, wicking all the way Down your limbs, and you whimper again because you have no prayer of a coherent sentence or even word in that moment. There’s horny and eager then there’s whatever the hell you are as you grind your hips against his to beg for more.

It’s juvenile, but grinding against you over clothes while he kisses you is the height of eroticism right now. He groans into your mouth before breaking away, wanting to taste every inch of your skin.

He trails kisses along your jaw and throat, making your back arch and stealing your breath all over again. While he begins to travel south you tug at his shirt, trying to tear the damn thing off while your whole body aches for him.

Zach smiles against your skin, cutting his eyes up at you playfully. “You’re too impatient” he teases, pulling away. “Think I’ll blindfold you.”

You pout instantly, but the idea is intriguing enough that you raise an eyebrow at him. “Do I get to see you eventually?”

“Eventually.” He smirks, loving that you are going along with his little idea. “That way you can accurately judge how good I am.”

“I can’t judge your skills with my eyes open?” Delighted to have found him not so very vanilla after all, you let the hand you still have in his hair tug in his curls and grin when he moans.

“You might be overwhelmed by my good looks.” He chuckles and shakes his head. One of the things that made him suggest this is his tattoo. He didn’t want to have a ton of questions about it right now. This wasn’t the time for remembering the past, but enjoying the present.

“Is this a ‘hands off’ situation, too? Or can I at least still touch you?” There are plenty of things you’re willing to try out that you already know you enjoy that people might consider out of the ordinary, but the first time with a new partner you want to feel them in every way.

“You can touch me.” He promises. “I’m just feeling a little shy right now.” He jokes playfully, winking at you. “Don’t want you to get too scared.”

“You have nothing you need to be shy about, but I fully respect having a few hang ups. I’ve got plenty, too.” Reluctantly as you are to take your hands off of him, you reach for your belt instead — or rather, the long sash of fabric that you tied through your belt loops today because you thought it looked a little cuter than a standard belt. “Use this.”

“Are you sure?” He takes the fabric from your hands and holds it up to his eyes playfully.

“I trust you.” You trust him somehow inherently. As though it were as simple as trusting yourself. In a way that sticks in your chest and warms through you like hot cocoa in winter.

He watches you for a moment after pulling the scarf down from his face, “Okay.” He agrees. “I just want this to be something we never forget.”

“I can already guarantee I will never forget any part of today,” you promise him, shivering slightly with anticipation as he settles your former belt gently over your eyes.

He ties it firmly, but not too tight. If you need it off, all you need to do is slip it up your forehead or pull it down. The point of this is to be fun, to explore without judgement and he can’t do that if you are uncomfortable. “Hopefully that’s a good thing and it doesn’t go into your ‘worst dates’ catalog.” He jokes before he slides his hands down to the edge of your shirt to push it up your stomach and drop a kiss right above your belly button.

With every small touch now heightened, your skin tingles with the scrap of his calloused fingers and press of the feather-light kiss. “I don’t fuck on the first date unless it’s a really fucking good date.”

“Me either.” Zach smirks against your skin before he decides to nip your side slightly, laughing quietly when you jump and gasp at the grazing of his teeth. Instead of working down, he decides to work up and nuzzles just under the band of your bra.

One hand blindly makes its way to his shoulder again, grasping the thick cords of muscle there and reminding you just how powerful this broad man is that is being so tender and playful with you. At this point it’s Zach’s game — to explore and to pleasure and to discover — and every point of contact between you is a spark catching fire.

It takes just a second to discover that your bra hooks in the front, to Zach's utter delight, making it easy to unbind your breasts and capture a nipple in his mouth before your shirt is even off or your straps slid down your arms.

The heat and pressure of Zach’s mouth feels boiling even on this warm night, sending you gasping and cursing as you grip his shoulder tighter. If you get any wetter your shorts might outright dissolve, but he would probably consider that a bragging right.

Zach groans against your nipple, loving the little arch to your back, pushing your breast to his mouth more. Offering yourself up.

There is no steady rhythm to any of it as Zach works to take you apart piece by piece. He has a method in his madness, surely, but you are breathless and moaning as he reduces you to a human puddle on the bedsheets. While you can’t see him like this you can definitely feel him, and your hands tug at his shirt again to get that luscious skin-on-skin sensation as he starts to travel down your body.

He takes his time, learning the sensitive spots on your body and enjoying every soft sound he pulls out of your mouth. Until he is dragging your shorts down your legs.

It’s about fucking time says the impatient voice in your head as you squirm in the bed and lift your hips to help him move things along. He’s consented to take his shirt off, at least, so that warmth that rolls off of him in waves can seep directly into your bones. You whimper as the cool breeze of exposure hits your overheated cunt, dripping with need and aching for attention.

“Fuck, you look so pretty right now.” Zach groans at the sight of your wet lips, hair trimmed and manicured. You either were hoping that the night would end this way, or you were very meticulous about your grooming. He’s kind of hoping for the former even though he wouldn’t care if you had done anything. “Baby, you look good enough to eat.”

“Tease.” You whine, trying to sound huffy but only succeeding in strangling another moan when his breath ghosts over your swollen pussy. Even with his hands caressing your thighs, you’re squirming.

It’s been a long goddamn time since Zach has had a pussy in his face, but he loves the musky scent of your wet sex. Making him twitch and groan as he slowly spreads your lips wide for him to drag his tongue up your folds for that first, tantalizing lick.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” With your back arching and your fingers tight in his hair, it’s so easy to lose yourself to one little taste.

He makes a sound of pleasure as he flicks his tongue over your clit and comes back for another pass. This time starting lower and letting his tongue tease your entrance before sliding higher.

If you weren’t blindfolded already you might have cum just from the sight of him. His lips and tongue explore while his hands keep you steady, holding you in place so the buck of your hips doesn’t unseat him before he can really get going.

He absorbs your sound, your taste. The very essence of your being, feasted on as he slowly and thoroughly licks through you like a meal he is savoring.

It’s a stunning combination of thorough exploration and eager enthusiasm that has you writing and moaning his name so quickly. You could have had a date yesterday and everything about tonight would already be better. Zach seems somehow to know exactly what you like without asking, reading your signals perfectly air pushing you higher and higher until his name is the only word on your lips.

Zach is completely entranced by the way you respond to his touch, never having a lover he feels so in-sync with. It’s like he’s touched you a million times before rather than just these last few minutes.

The whole world has stopped existing around you. It's just you and Zach and this bed and every new height of pleasure that he keeps building you to. The press of his hands on your hips, the deep push of his tongue, the sharp half-scrape of his teeth near your clit that he's discovered makes you gasp and moan.

“Cum for me baby.” He pulls away to gasp his plea, the need to see you fall apart about to rupture in his veins and make him go mad. His grip tightening on your hips and he dives back into your cunt with the desperation of a man starved that’s reached his oasis.

You don't have to tell me twice, you would say if you could swim through the thick mire of bliss to tease him. Instead, and much more true to the moment, you let out a sobbing moan and beg for just a little bit more to send you over the edge.

He hears the unspoken plea in your whimpers and opens his mouth wider to just devour you. Burying himself into your pussy where his nose is blocked by your mound as he pushes you over the edge and if he died in this moment, he would die blissfully happy.

Your back arches fiercely one more time, lifting your shoulders off the bed as you hit that sharp crest that explodes into your climax. All of your muscles tense and curses spill freely, interspersed with his name and moans entirely without words – until that crest becomes altogether too much, the thread mercifully snaps, and you fall back on the mattress an utterly satisfied puddle.

Zach is slow to pull his mouth away. Savoring the little tremors that race through your thighs and makes your pussy clench against his chin as he laps at your juices one last time before he lifts his head with a groan of satisfaction. “And just think, we’ve only started.” He hums playfully, knowing that the night has just begun.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

ItSotN: @greenwitchfromthewoods @copperhalfcent @ariavitiellos @spishsstuff @76bookworm76

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - The Eclipse

I am back again and I got a big boy drabble for you today @spotaus

After the amazing drabble they did about Nightmare losing the magic. I decided it was about time I tried my hands at the event that brought forth the magic!

Also we are back to Ccino POV. I don't know what it is about him in this series I just love him dearly and adore his POV. Once we move more into the story I will probably do other people's POVs haha.

Warnings! We are in for a rough time because Ccino never has it easy and that is like 90% my fault. There is past abuse, past starvation, victim blaming (kinda), there is gaslighting, there is manipulation. Implied future abuse.

There is a lot and I need you to be aware of this.

Also... It... may be a bit long? As in 10K words long. So... just so you know it is long. With that out of the way! Lets Go!

*--------------------------------------*

Ccino isn’t sure what to feel. He knows he should be proud and feel excited. Today was the twin’s birthdays. They were finally turning thirteen. Something everyone in the kingdom has been excited for for the last few years as this day grow closer.

Ccino sighs as he feels his body shake. Even as he makes sure that Nightmare’s outfit is spotless. It is a beautiful light yellow. It will fit in perfectly amongst the golden and yellow decorations but Ccino can only assume it is on purpose. To show Nightmare’s rank and position as prince as Dream ascends. To see they belong together and are connected by their bond as twins.

Nightmare frows as he tugs on his shelves. Ccino gently takes his hand and removes it from the soft fabric “Hey. It is okay my prince.” He puts the sleeves back in place and is happy to note there are no ruffles.

Nightmare frowns as he turns his skull away. Ccino frowns as he makes sure the outfit is perfect.

Nightmare mutters “Still think they are stupid for making you wear pink…”

Ccino blinks and looks down at his undershirt. It is a very soft light pink and there are yellow accents. He smiles as he twists his skull a bit to enable himself to look better at Nightmare “Really? Why is that my prince?”

Nightmare shrugs and mutters “Pink doesn’t suit you… beige is better.”

Ccino smiles “I do love the neutral and nature colours… But your brother was allowed to pick everything for his big day.” And it was only fitting that the new king’s gift was exactly as he wanted-

Ccino shakes his skull. He needs to stop thinking about it like that. He isn’t the one who matters here.

Nightmare is anxious. Nightmare’s twin is about to be crowned and become king. Complete this mysterious ritual. Ccino had to be there for him. Nightmare had found information and mentions about this great sacrifice and pain. Something that Dream had to do or experience to ascend to godhood.

Nightmare had come to him near tears. Terrified his brother would be hurt by this ritual that was going to happen no matter what. Nightmare had said he had tried to warn Dream but Dream just told him he was nervous and that everything would be okay. That Dream would become a god like their mother and Dream would rule their kingdom.

Nightmare had spoken about how he had gone to his mother with his worries but Nim just dismissed him. That Nim had just told him he was seeing things wrong again and that he was letting silly ideas get the better of him again.

Ccino isn’t surprised she was like that. Nim is just like that. A terrible and horrible-

Ccino stops himself. He can never be sure what she knows and what she doesn’t.

Instead, even back when Nightmare came to him, he concentrated on helping Nightmare. Helping him calm down before looking at what he had found.

Ccino wasn’t even sure what it was but he knew… he knew that Nightmare was correct. This magic, this ritual it is dangerous.

But there is nothing Ccino could do to help him. Ccino doesn’t know magic. He can’t even do magic. He knows nothing about magic or what it all means. He was only able to hold Nightmare close until he fell asleep for the night. Ccino letting him sleep in his room with him to help him feel safe.

Ccino doesn’t know magic…

But Ccino remembers… He thinks he remembers at least… He believes that his mother used to sing… That she could do magical things with music. Ccino thinks their little house used to be filled with music.

His father had these... magical kisses? Ccino thinks so at least… That his father could give kisses when you were hurt or sad and everything felt better… Something about his magic only working because of Ccino and his mom…

Ccino thinks so at least…

He can’t really remember what his father looked like…

He just knows he is supposed to look like his mom… but he isn’t sure as he can’t remember her well either… It has been so long

Nightmare shifts before him and Ccino pulls himself out of his mindless thinking. Ccino turns Nightmare around and hums “The yellow looks nice on you…”

Nightmare pulls on his shirt anxiously “You think so? I think it looks weird… yellow fits Dream. Not me.”

Ccino smiles as he knows how to handle this easily “Really? I think it looks nice.” he gently takes Nightmare’s hands as Ccino ignores the scars on those small bones from his practise cuts “Yellow compliments purple after all. Makes your eye lights stand out more.”

Nightmare looks deeply embarrassed but has a shy smile “Really?”

Ccino smiles “Have I ever lied to you?”

Nightmare shakes his skull and looks a bit more relaxed as he looks back into the mirror. Ccino looks him over and smiles. Nightmare, and Dream, has grown into a fine young teen.

Ccino can’t help but be proud of both the twins. Ccino has always been closer to Nightmare as Dream had many others who seemed to want to answer his every request. Which meant that Ccino just focused on Nightmare when he could. Make sure the younger twin didn’t feel left behind.

Ccino is proud to say that he managed it. Nightmare is happy and never mentioned feeling alone. He mentioned missing his twin when he went to his classes but aside from that Nightmare was happy and healthy. Dream was too.

The twins adore each other and are the closest friends. Both are happy and healthy.

All in all. Ccino thinks he has been doing a great job with helping and raising them.

Ccino hums as he moves to Nightmare’s front and starts putting up the little golden and sun jewellery. Careful all in the right spots. Decorating his thin neck and the fragile wrists.

Last Ccino picks up the small silver crown and places it on Nightmare’s skull “Almost done my prince.”

Nightmare stares at him “We are alone.” And he waits.

Ccino blinks and smiles softly “My prince-” Nightmare frowns more. Ccino sighs but can’t stop smiling “Nightmare. You know I have to address you properly.” He can’t stop himself as he rubs the smaller skull and Nightmare leans into it happily “I am just a servant. People can’t see me disrespecting you like that.”

Nightmare frowns again “I don’t care.” And he glares more “and you are not just a servant. You are you.”

Ccino smiles and nuzzles him softly “I know you don’t care Nightmare. And I would like to not care either. But… it isn’t right or how it works…” he gives him a sad smile.

Nightmare frowns and mutters “Maybe… When Dream is king he can change that?” he looks a bit more hopeful.

Anxiety returns to his soul. Ccino doesn’t want to be important and known… He forces it back down as he gives a gentle smile “As king he won’t get the chance to do such things until much later Nightmare. He can’t risk being seen as weak or someone who is easy to disrespect. Once things calm down we can maybe ask him. Okay?” much later.

Nightmare frowns and mutters “Who would disrespect him? He would be a king and a god!” and he looks at Ccino.

Ccino feels bad. Seeing as he doesn’t respect Nim at all. And Nim is like that. Ccino instead gives him a tiny grin “Some people will just be like that. Even if they don’t have a good reason. And no matter how much you want them to you can’t change their minds.” He rubs his cheek “Which means you can only focus on what matters to you and the country.”

Nightmare frowns before nodding “I can do that for him. Help him.” He rubs his arm and whispers “Do… do you think the… the bad thing will happen?”

Ccino frowns “I am not sure Nightmare. I am so sorry…” he can’t help him when it matters… Ccino wasn’t even sure why he thought he could help either of them in a way that matters.

Nightmare leans into his touch and mutters “At least you believe me.”

Ccino feels a bit better as he speaks softly “And I always will. Even if no one else believes you. I will. I will be there for you. I swear.” It is an easy promise to make to him.

Nightmare actually smiles this time.

Ccino relaxes as he slowly gets the paint and make up out “Ready for the last finishing touches?”

Nightmare nods and takes a seat. Ccino gets the paint and gets to work. Ccino had to do these very early on for both the twins. Dream would want to get up and move around while Nightmare would patiently wait for Ccino to finish and for the make up to dry. Ccino never minded it of course. It was fun! It reminded him of finger painting and practising make up with his mom. It are dear memories.

Ccino starts with a bit of paint by Nightmare’s cheeks and his chin. To make sure the edges look softer and a bit rounder. Next he adds a very small line of golden yellow around the very edge of his sockets. Ccino hadn’t been lying after all, yellow did help make purple stand out more and with this is made the purple pop. Ccino then took the silver and with the utmost care he painted the phases of the moon from one temple to the other across the forehead. Making sure the full moon was at the very center. Ccino didn’t even need to redo it today.

Ccino smiles as he takes a step back “All ready.” He washes the paint and make up from his phalanges.

Nightmare hops off his chair and looks into the mirror “Will you have to also do Dream’s paints?”

Ccino shakes his skull “Not today. I believe the king is helping your twin prepare.” He finishes cleaning himself up and puts everything back to its spot.

Nightmare nods as he looks into the mirror anxiously “It is okay… it is fine… Dream will be fine…” he tugs on his shirt again.

Ccino joins his side and frees the shirt from the tight hold. After it he tugs it all back in place before stepping back “There. You are ready my prince.” And he gives a small bow “Very soon. Crown prince.”

Nightmare rubs his arm. Luckily the material the shirt is made of doesn’t crumble easily and it remains looking nice and puffy. Ccino needs to make sure Nightmare looks fine and no one can say anything rude to Nightmare about it.

Ccino joins his side and smiles “Hey… Nighty?” Nightmare immediately looks at him. Ccino keeps smiling. Praying it helps relax him “You are going to do amazing. You will look stunning together with your twin and you two have bright futures ahead of you.”

Nightmare gives a very slow nod before he mutters “Will you be nearby? I know it is private and only for the inner circle until the real crowning but… Will you please be near?”

Ccino smiles “Yeah. I will be close by.” For completely different reasons…

Nightmare relaxes and smiles brightly “Thank you… I need you there to feel brave.”

Ccino feels like his soul is gripped as he gives him a gentle hug. Making sure not to mess up Nightmare’s outfit or make up “You don’t need me for that Nightmare. You are the bravest monster I know. But I will be there okay? You will see me right there okay? And if you start feeling scared or unsure you can look at me and know that there will always be people who believe in you and are there for you. Okay?” He rubs the cheek.

Nightmare pushes his face more into it and lets out a soft purr “Thank you.”

Ccino smiles “I am happy to be there for you. Both of you.” He hears footsteps in the distance and quickly takes his hand back as he steps back. Nightmare looks confused for a moment before the door behind him opens.

Ccino bows to the captain entering “Captain.”

The captain, a bird monster by the name of Falks, dismisses him but that is alright. Ccino doesn’t mind at all. He knows that most of the higher ups kind of know the deal that is about to happen.

Captain Falks bows to Nightmare “Hello my prince. I am here to lead you to the king and the future king.”

Nightmare nods before looking back at Ccino “See you soon Ccino.” And he follows the captain out.

Ccino makes sure to remain in his spot until the door closes. When it closes he feels all the tension return as the need to hide in one of the tunnels returns. He doesn’t want to go there.

He doesn’t want to be at the ritual.

Because… That will be the moment that he…

That his…

He is right now the king’s after all. Nim just only had use for him as babysitter and servant. Ccino knows… he knows what the little apple patterns on his clothes mean after all.

Ccino feels his breath quicken as he grabs a hold on the vanity and gasps as his breath gets shorter and shorter. He stares at himself for a moment before looking away. He can’t stand the sight of himself. Seeing himself hurts… Seeing himself brings back memories he can’t quite remember and pain and fear from long ago. He can’t deal with that. He can’t.

Ccino gasps as he takes a seat on the ground and curls up more. This is it… today… he will be… he won’t…

He… he is never going to see Nightmare ever again? Is he?

He doesn’t know what the ritual does. Not exactly.

But Nim had pulled him aside and given him an idea. How it changes the person. How it increases their power and that with it came the knowledge that they were more important than any mortals. That their power and their ability to hold and manage that power is the proof.

That once Dream gets the power he will finally get the power he deserves. He will have the power and knowledge that will make him the god among people.

That Ccino will be there for him in any way he wishes. For anything he wants.

Any. Thing.

Ccino feels gross just thinking about it.

Footsteps in the hallway and Ccino has to pull himself together. He forces himself back to his feet even if his whole body shakes. Even if he can’t stand the sight of everything around him.

He just manages to pull his face into a more neutral look and slow his panicked breathing when the door opens. Some guards stand ready and mutter about bringing Ccino to the room to prepare him for the ritual.

Ccino follows the guards. His soul pulsing fast enough that Ccino is starting to feal dizzy. He keeps his breaths short as he follows the familiar path.

They end by the healing bay and he is left by the door. The door opens and two medics are there already. They rush Ccino in and comment about him being later than expected. Ccino apologises as he stands in the room.

He hears the two healers talk as he stares ahead of himself. Trying so hard not to hear. He doesn’t want to hear it.

Ccino stares ahead of himself. The other wall has shelves which hold a lot of different items and potions. Ccino knows that some of those are against exhaustion and to give more energy. There are health boosters and even a few that will just knock you out. All different colours.

The scents are making his already dizzy skull spin and pound. He may be starting to get migraine.

The doctor snaps “Ccino!”

Ccino blinks and turns slightly “Yes sir?”

The doctor, Nigel, looks annoyed while the other healer, Mar, giggles “Don’t be mad at him. Can you blame him? He will be the future King’s first mate.” They sigh wishfully “I am so jealous… I wish I could be the one who helped Dream like that.”

They disgust Ccino. Ccino doesn’t care that technically Dream is about to magically become an adult. He is a child! One who barely started puberty! How could they think about him like that? Like they are just waiting for him to grow up so they can… so they can think and do those things to him?!

Doctor Nigel sighs annoyed as he stares at Ccino “When did you last eat and what?”

Ccino needs to think. He hadn’t eaten that morning… He hasn’t had dinners in ages much like lunches. His last breakfast was… “Day before yesterday.” If he is correct.

The doctor looks annoyed “Seriously? You pigging out again? You know that you need to look your best.” He sighs as he shakes his head.

Ccino just looks down. He just had been so hungry. He had felt so empty and tired. He had thought… Maybe a little wouldn’t be bad? Just to get a bit of energy.

Nigel looks at him expecting “What did you eat?”

Ccino looks to the side. Feeling guilty “Had some toast… and some yogurt and milk.” It had been so good. He had felt full after it and sighed happily.

The doctor huffs “Pigging. Out.”

The other giggles “Oh let him pig out. Maybe then King Dream will see that he is not that much anyway. Let someone who is actually pretty get a chance to please our new lord.” They sigh wishfully again.

Nigel shoots his colleague a look “Stop it. You can try to get in his harem once he is established.” He turns back to side as he grabs a step stool “The first mate always dies quickly anyone. They are there for the king to test their power and magic after all. Rather painful from what I understand.” He points towards the step stool “Undress and on the step stool.”

Ccino feels sick and feels his soul pulse anxiously but his body does as ordered. He feels beyond exposed as he stands there. Staring downwards as the two doctors circle him and comment on things. He can hardly hear it. His skull hurts.

Doctor Nigel hums “Luckily none of the lashes gave permanent marks after all. It would be unsightly for our future king to see marks of disobedience.” He makes a note as he moves on and checks his ribs and spine. Touching it and Ccino tries to ignore how invasive it feels. “Age?”

Ccino needs a moment to think “Twenty.”

He hums and makes a note “That should fertile then. Good. Summon your ecto.”

Ccino really doesn’t want to. His soul is filled with anxiety but he tries.

Nothing happens.

The doctor looks annoyed “I said. Summon the ecto.”

Ccino doesn’t look up “I can’t… I don’t have enough energy or magic.” Maybe he can’t summon it at all anymore. Maybe it is broken? Would that mean he doesn’t have to worry about this whole thing anymore? If he is unable to summon the parts needed… If he is too broken to serve his purpose…

The doctor grumbles as he walks to the cabinet and searches through the bottles before pulling one out “Here. Drink it.”

Ccino looks at the bright orange liquid and feels sick just looking at it. It smells gross. It looks disgusting. It is much too solid to be a normal drink.

Mar laughs as they smirk at him “What is wrong? Suddenly not a glutton anymore?”

Ccino doesn’t want to… But he remembers the pain of the lashes. The way each one burned. They way they would wait between the hits. Until his back was fully healed before giving the next one. Healing it magically, fast and aggressive which left his back tender and hurting of pains that weren’t there anymore. Then the next lash would hit.

He still feels the pain sometimes. Which is dumb. Ccino knows he isn’t hurt anymore. It got healed years ago and it doesn’t hurt. There is nothing there that could hurt. Everyone told him as much. To stop acting as if he is hurt when he was fine.

Ccino downs the potion as ordered. It is gross and sticks to his throat and it feels unpleasant. The unknown and different magic in the potion makes him sick but he stands there.

Nigel nods “Now. That should give you enough magic and mana to at least last through the night for our new King. Now summon so I can inspect your ecto.”

Ccino feels sick but does as ordered. He focusses on his soul. Even if the pulsing of it is uneven and anxious it is better than to think about the hands touching his ecto. Hands he doesn’t want to touch him anywhere.

He stares ahead. Staring at the different coloured bottles. Two are purple. One is blue. There is a green one on the side. Most of them don’t have a colour and three are yellow. All on different shelves. None of them have labels.

Doctor Nigel steps back as he takes notes “Seems fine and stable enough. A bit too round but that is too be expected from your gluttonous nature.” The doctor makes notes.

The other giggles “Best hope the king likes them heavier.” And Mar giggle again.

Ccino hates it here.

The doctor shoots his colleague a look “Behave. It will not look good for you if the first mate doesn’t like your behaviour.” And he shoots Ccino a look “You can get dressed again. Others will come pick you up soon to get ready.” And he turns to his desk. The other doctor huffs and shoots Ccino a jealous look.

Ccino would willingly and gladly trade places. Do it. Take his place. He doesn’t want to be some offering to placate a newly ascended god. Ccino knows what everyone implies he will do to do that. He feels sick.

Either way he gets dressed in the much too soft cotton with the almost silky feel to it. It is soft as he tugs on it. His soul feels like it has permanently moved to his throat. He still feels dizzy, the other magic in his body makes him feel sick.

Everything about this makes him ill. He wants to hide. Just not go. Fuck it. Stay in the hidden tunnels and just keep hiding there until they give up on searching for him. No one ever found him in those tunnels anyway.

The image of Nightmare looking hopefully into the crowd when he feels nervous. Ccino not being there.

He can’t… He can’t break his promise to Nightmare.

The door opens and a few maids walk in. They all seem excited and happily tug Ccino with them. They talk about how lucky he is and how he doesn’t need to worry! That people will make sure he looks pretty and then the new King will not be able to keep his hands to himself!

Ccino just smiles and nods. Not sure if he can keep himself from throwing up if he starts talking.

They get to the large dressing room. Normally used for making and fabricating outfits for the royals and nobles. Ccino feels his anxiety returns as the maids leave him with the seamstress Sasha. Sasha looks beyond excited as she looks at different outfits.

She hums happily “I am so excited! It is the greatest honour to have been allowed to make your outfit. I made a few options and the current king and future king already expressed their preference!” she smiles brightly as she holds up different outfits “I have a few that were approved upon and I made sure they will fit the decorations!”

Ccino nods as he lets her talk. Everywhere there are flags and banners with little suns on them. The symbol of Dream. A small sun for the golden prince. Dream had been so excited when they picked his symbol when the twins turned ten. Nightmare had been excited about his own symbol in the form of the moon.

Ccino watches as the seamstress pulls out this beautiful dress. Lower back and cuts by the lower part and legs to enable easy movement.

Sasha smiles as she holds it up “I know I know. A dress is the go to but I wanted to try just in case! Please put it on.”

Ccino takes the clothing item and gets dressed. Feeling numb to the exposed feeling by now. He waits on the verdict.

She beams “Oh you are so pretty!” she looks excited as she rushes to the other outfits she laid out “But I think the dress isn’t your fit after all. Don’t get me wrong you look gorgeous but it just doesn’t seem right! It doesn’t show off your best sides well as it is designed to look good on people with more curves.”

Ccino is never sure what people want from him. Some say he is too fat and a glutton. Others say he doesn’t have enough curves. He really tried to do as ordered and only eat and drink what he is supposed to. He doesn’t understand why his body isn’t like they want by now. He swears he tried.

He is so tired.

Sasha brings out this pants and shirt set which feels a bit more comfortable. Ccino doesn’t like how open the back is as it gives him bad memories. The only times his back was uncovered was when they… they…

The shirt itself is very tight around his neck. And shows off most of his spine. The pants themselves hang low on his hip bones. Barely staying up as it is while the pants legs are long and cover him to the ankles.

The seamstress hums as she looks considered “This shows off your skeleton nature much better than the dress did! Your spine is so clean and pretty! I am sure the king would love to be able to see it easily! I will have to make a note of that for any future outfits!” she makes a note as she grabs the next outfit.

The shirt has shoulder pads this time and covers his spine a lot better. The sides are mostly open but it isn’t as short as the other one and it only shows a bit of his lower spine.

Instead of pants this outfit has more of a skirt to it. It still hangs low on his hips but there is a very short tight pants under the skirt to keep it in place. The sides of his legs are almost completely uncovered aside from the tight pants but the skirt part gives him at least the illusion of modesty.

Sasha hums as she looks between the outfits “I think that one is best.” She smiles a t him “Feeling pretty and ready to rock the new king’s world?” she is trying to hype him up.

Ccino gives a small smile and speaks softly “Mostly nervous.” Which is the most truthful and honest thing he can safely say.

She gasps “What? You don’t need to be nervous! He is going to be so happy to see you! You are so pretty he is going to be blown away!”

Ccino doesn’t feel pretty. He just feels sick and uncomfortable. It is so close now. Before he could mostly ignore it but now it is really going to happen. He is going to be promoted from babysitter to sex slave. And there is not a single thing he can do about it. Yet Ccino is the idiot and weird one for not being excited.

He wants to cry.

He takes his seat as the seamstress talks about his make up and what she picked out. It is mostly just some touch up. She mentions that putting much more on would just make him look fake and make him lose his natural beauty.

She disappears to the corner where she opens a locked box. There are golden chains in there. Well, not actually chains but necklaces and bracelets apparently, they may as well be chains though. Ccino watches as the other puts them on him. By his arms. His ribs. One as a choker. She coos and praises how pretty he looks. Ccino doesn’t feel like he is all there anymore.

Heavy steps and moments later the door opens.

The seamstress bows deeply and Ccino looks down as well. Making a bow as far as he can without disrupting any of the work done on him.

A moment of silence before a pleased hum “Good. You got cleaned up and made yourself look presentable. Come. We are about to start.”

As they walk Nim reminds him once more of what his role will be and what he will do. Ccino echoes the instructions back to her when prompted.

He is lead into the throne room and there is a silence. Ccino feels his arm start to shake as he makes his way towards his spot. Ccino tries not to panic.

This is it. There is no turning back now.

Ccino just stands in his spot. Near enough to step forwards when it is his time. Ccino tries not to think about what will happen to him after today. What his life will be after this. Ccino glances around.

There aren’t as many people as he would expect. The only people are the king’s advisors. The captain of the guard and a few extra guards. And Ccino of course.

None of the maids or servants are actually here with them.

Ccino glances around and sees people all getting ready. A priest as well. To perform the crowning of Dream as Nim will be unavailable.

Ccino… Ccino doesn’t like this ritual or what he knows about it.

From what he understand… the king will give up her magic. Make it form something for Dream to take and consume. Consuming the magic will give him powers and magic and the ability to ascend. Then. Once it is time. Something of great emotional importance is supposed to happen. That the magic will guide Dream to do what is needed for him to finish ascending.

Once ascended. Dream will be first crowned to the small select group here and then to the kingdom as a whole.

Ccino is supposed to step forwards when Dream finishes his ritual but before he is crowned. Ccino will join his side and remain there through everything.

Ccino still doesn’t understand how it will affect Dream. All the king ever told him was that Dream would within seconds grow from teen to an adult and all the feelings, knowledge and emotions that came with it would happen all at once. That it would make Dream ready to rule. The ritual would give him the understanding for what happened and how so he can perform it himself when the time is right.

Ccino thinks it isn’t right.

But maybe that is just him. He doesn’t like the magic in this place. His memories still see magic as the voice of his mother singing and some stuff moving on their own to help her with chores. Of his father holding him close and giving a kiss to his little bruises and them feeling better. They told him magic was about joy and love.

Here… they always spoke about rituals and blood and sacrifices. Ccino had seen them sacrifice animals before.

He doesn’t like it.

He hates it.

Ccino had had to clean up cuts on Nightmare’s hands from past rituals. All in preparation. Nightmare had been near tears as it hurt. Ccino remembers telling him that it can’t be actually that good of magic if it hurts him.

Ccino isn’t sure if he was even helping at this point…

Not that it matters… He probably won’t see Nightmare much after this… As he will just… be wherever and whatever Dream wants him to be and do and-

No. Stop. Don’t think about it.

Ccino tries to distract himself.

The hall is decorated with large banners. All with pictures and images of the sun and light. Gold in colour and making the room seem lighter.

Ccino suddenly understands his outfit colour choice. It seems to mirror the colours of a sunrise.

Nim steps out of the side door and walks towards her throne, her mask on her face. She stands before it as the hall is immediately quiet. Moments later Dream and Nightmare walk out together and stand on both of her sides, both wearing their own masks.

Nightmare looks anxious and Ccino manages to catch his eye through the tiny openings of the owl mask. Nightmare seems to relax a little.

That is good.

That is much better.

The King speaks up and her voice sounds out “We are here today. For the next step in our glorious kingdom. As I will ascend to take my rightful place among the stars. As my son will take his own rightful place. A god on this world. Like myself.”

Excitement rises in the room as Nim raises her arms and hands to her chest. And It lights up.

It is scorching hot. It is burning.

The light is bright as Nim holds out the light. It slowly condenses into a single form. A glowing apple. She turns slowly. Her body already starting to fall apart as she starts to dust. Her hand holds out the glowing apple to Dream.

Dream wiggles slightly in place before raising his mask to the top of his face to reveal the big smile before looking serious again as he steps forwards. He holds out his arms and hands.

Nim stands still for a moment before she places the apple in his hands but keeps holding on.

Dream looks determined and nods “Thank you. Mother. May you rise to be above the other gods.”

Nim nods and lets go of the apple. As soon as the contact is gone. She is gone. She falls apart and her mask falls on top of the pile of dust.

The apple is a perfect golden colour. It isn’t shining anymore but it reflects the light beautifully.

Dream steps forwards and smiles “Hello everyone. For this glorious day. As the old king and my mother takes her rightful place among the stars and gods. As I stand before you to claim my own place in the growing history of our family. To make them proud and do as they hava done before me.”

Ccino notices Nightmare looks nervous as he shoots him looks. Ccino gives him a tiny smile and Nightmare seems to relax before he gains a look of focus in those eye lights.

Dream smiles as he raises his arms up high.

Which is when Nightmare rushes him and tackles his brothers. The two twins struggle for a moment before Nightmare manages to grab the apple and take a few steps away.

Dream stares from his spot on the ground in shock “Nightmare?!”

Nightmare doesn’t say anything. He is shaking lightly before Nightmare finds his eye sight again. Nightmare raises his own owl mask to the top of his skull, he takes a deep breath and bites into the apple.

Something in his body changes. Ccino can see an almost hazed look on Nightmare’s face as he bites. And bites. And bites. Eating the apple even if he seems to almost choke on the mouthfuls.

And then the apple is gone. Core and all.

Nightmare stands there for a moment before starting to lean to one side before leaning towards the other. His body shaking. He starts to shake more and more as Nightmare rolls up as he hugs his own form. Then Nightmare starts screaming and sobbing as he falls to his knees.

Ccino feels his own body shake. Ccino feels himself take a step closer.

He is hurt… He needs to…

A guard stops him.

Ccino can’t look away from Nightmare. Nightmare is just shaking and sobbing as he stays on his knees.

A cracking of bones. The ripping of clothing. And large limbs burst out of Nightmare’s back. Ccino sees them move and wriggling around dripping of Nightmare’s blood. But Ccino watches as the red colour darkens little by little until it is a solid black instead. It continues to drip on the ground as Nightmare shudders.

Then he stops. Everything stops. The screaming, the shaking, the sobbing.

Silence.

Nightmare slowly rises to his feet. The goop moving and dripping slowly off his form to drip on the ground. Nightmare looks around the room. His clothes ripped in many places as parts of it remain on the ground covered with that same sticky black goop that used to be red and liquid and his blood.

“How could you!?”

Nightmare blinks and turns to stare at Dream. Dream glares at him as he shakes with pure rage.

Dream screams “How could you?!”

Nightmare however doesn’t react. He just keeps staring at his brother. Ccino… Ccino doesn’t like the look on his face. It is the same look as with the apple… Ccino also doesn’t like the look on Dream’s face. The open rage and anger.

Dream knows magic. Nightmare does not.

Ccino doesn’t think and rushes away from his spot. The guard who had a hold on him before had let go in shock. Ccino side steps any hands as he rushes to the raised platform and thrones. He rushes up the stairs and gets between the twins. Holding hands up to both of them as he gives them both a strict look “No fighting.” He would have wanted his voice to be louder. But he can’t. Even now he can’t shout at either of them. He never could.

Dream looks away with angry tears in his eyes. Nightmare freezes as he stares at him. Ccino looks back at him.

His face isn’t the same anymore. The sockets are all wrong and the eye lights aren’t right either. Nightmare is much taller and doesn’t look in anyway like he did. The magic that he emits is even different.

But… the angle of those shoulders… Nightmare is scared and confused.

Ccino needs to get them somewhere else. He needs to get them out of view of others. They need to calm down and they need to figure out what is next. Was… Was Nightmare instructed by Nim to eat the apple after all? But… that doesn’t make sense?

No. Focus. No use trying to figure stuff out when it isn’t the priority. Get the twins to the back. Get them situated.

Ccino takes a deep breath before turning towards the waiting crowd with a smile on his face. He makes sure to tugs his hands behind the small of his back as he speaks with his cheerful people pleasing voice “We will be in the back to clean up before we continue. Please excuse our new king and the crown prince for just a moment.” And he bows deeply before shooting Dream a look and motioning towards the back.

Dream still looks angry but does as told as he moves towards the back. Ccino rises and gives a deep bow to Nightmare “My lord?” Nightmare is king now… right? so he should do this?

Nightmare looks bothered. It isn’t the same face he pulls but it is the same reaction as before. At least that look from the apple is gone. He just looks confused and overwhelmed. Nightmare moves towards the back without a single glance into anyone’s direction. Ccino uses the general confusion to rush into the room after them.

Okay. Okay.

What now?

The room is quiet as Dream continues to glare at Nightmare. Nightmare frowns at him as he raises a hand “Dream… I…” he shakes his skull as that glint in his eye lights returns before he manages to shake it.

Dream glares as he shakes “How could you! I trusted you! Everyone always said you just wanted the throne! I defended you! Said you would never betray me! Yet you do?!” angry tears appear in his sockets as he glares.

Nightmare shakes his skull again. “I didn’t… I didn’t want to. I…” He frowns. So confused.

The door slams open and Ccino notices Nightmare flinch at the sound before Ccino is grabbed and turned around. Captain Falks is there glaring “What the fuck did you do?!”

Ccino blinks as two more guards join them. Ccino looks back at Nightmare and Dream “I… I got them out of sight? Stopped them from fighting.”

Falks groans “Yes! That is the problem! You stopped the ritual!”

Ccino feels any insecurity and nerves leave him as it replaces him with rage “Of course I did?! In case you didn’t notice! It went terrible! Of course I got them out of sight and calm before they could hurt each other!”

Captain Falks glares “The leftover prince was never supposed to take the apple! This is a disaster! He was supposed to just be there for the future King of Light Dream!” Falks glares at the twins before glaring at Ccino again “This is a mess and you made it worse.”

Ccino flinches as he looks to the side “What is done is done… We need to be quick…” he glances back and can’t help but notice that Nightmare is very much barely dressed at this point as he ripped out of his clothing and Dream is overdressed with the too large clothing. Swimming in the bright orange cape and the softer coloured dress pants and shirt. Ccino nods to himself “We will need to get them both ready quickly. A new outfit for King Nightmare is a must. He can’t be crowned when he is barely dressed. Dream will need cloths that are form fitted for him now instead of how he could have been.” His mind is racing as he looks over to the two guards behind Falks.

It are cadet Rogers and Cadet Miles. Okay. Ccino has seen them before and they are both ambitious but are loyal to the crown. Ccino looks at Miles “Miss Miles. Can you get back to the hall and keep the people calm? We may need more refreshments for them.” Miles gives a nod and Ccino focuses on Rogers “Cadet Rogers. We need to make sure we aren’t bothered. Can you make sure to stand guard?” Cadet Rogers nods with a salute and moves to the door together with cadet Miles. Ccino looks at Falks “Captain. We need the priest to remain here and remain ready to crown Nightmare and vow him in. While I get the prince and king ready you need to go to the priest and give him a small update that Nightmare will be sworn in instead-”

Falks glares “Who do you think you are to order me and my guards around?”

Ccino freezes before giving him a look “We need to act quickly and adapt to the change.”

Falks huffs as he looks disgusted  “I will not serve a fake king.”

A moment of silence and shock goes through Ccino. He also feels… rejected? Dejected? It doesn’t make sense. Ccino instead focusses on the moment “How is he a fake king?”

Falks huffs “You are an idiot. He was never meant to be king. He was there to make sure that Dream would rise to his rightful place. Not be a useless and jealous brat and take it for himself! He didn’t even finish the ritual!”

Ccino glares “He did.”

Falks smirks “Oh believe me. He did not.”

Ccino glares as he starts to recount what he knows “He ate the apple. Legends speak that anyone unworthy of absorbing the magic would perish. Nightmare survived and was able to gain the power it gave. Meaning the magic decided him worthy.” Falks blinks but Ccino continues “Nightmare is a son of the old king Nim just like Dream. Are you really disrespecting the royal bloodline?” Falks looks a lot more worried. Ccino goes for the finishing blow “Not to forget. The ritual spoke of a large betrayal. I do believe. That eating the apple and betraying his twin would count as such.”

Ccino may not agree with any of these thought and believes followed by these people. But he knows how to speak their language and play their game. “That means. That our new king is Nightmare. Who completed the ritual.”

Falks suddenly looks a lot more unsure before he hisses to Ccino “You best remember your place slave. And if I had it my way I would show it to your personally. Your pretty face can’t save you from all the consequences.”

Ccino doesn’t feel fear. He just feels rage. “Oh I remember my place just fine. My duty, as ordered by the old king, is to be by the new king’s side and help him in any way I can. I am doing exactly as I was instructed. I think it is time you remember your own oaths and vows Captain. As you are supposed to protect, guard and serve the ruling king yourself.”

Falks glares harshly at him “When this is over. I will take great pleasure in punishing you and your bratty mouth. Seems like the last twenty I gave you did not make much of an impression. Maybe with fifty lashes you will learn your place.”

Ccino raises a brow “Ask our king when it is calm. We both have our duties. Yours should be to make sure everything in the hall is still fine so we can move on to the coronation.” Ccino glares at him “The priest needs to be informed as I prepare our king.”

There is a silence in the room. The two cadets stare at Ccino and their captain but Ccino doesn’t care. He knows he will be in trouble for this. A lot of trouble and he does not enjoy knowing he will be punished later for ignoring the hierarchy and rules.

But Nightmare needs him now. Even if Nightmare doesn’t seem the same. It is still Nighty. Ccino used to tug him into bed with a  bedtime story. Ccino used to cut both Nightmare’s and Dream’s food into tiny pieces to make eating easier for them.

Ccino is not going to fail them now because some stupid birdbrain decided he wanted to try a powerplay when there is a crisis.

Falks breaks their eye contact first. He huffs as he walks to the door and hisses “Do what he says. We need to serve our king.” And he leaves the room. The two cadets follow.

Ccino glances back at the twins and is happy to note both seem too distracted to have noticed the captain trying his silly powerplay. The twins are just staring at each other and seemingly lost in their own world.

Ccino nods as he rushes to the wall. He finds the servants pathway and sneaks a look inside. Okay! Perfect! A sewing kit! He grabs it and takes it back inside before ringing the bell and leaving a message that he needs cloths in the colours of deep purple, dark blue, cyan or black stat. He goes back inside and looks around.

Now. What can he use to fix this mess? He searches the room and pulls out any tools he can find. Ccino knows that his fellow servants and maids all stash items all around the castle. To use when in need without having to travel far.

He manages to pull one of the large sun banners down and starts sewing it into a more casual tunic dress fit before managing to find a brown belt  to help give it shape. He goes to Dream’s side and checks the cape and clothes he is wearing. Okay he can let Dream still wear the large cape as it will go well.

Ccino pushes the clothes into his arms “Here. I am sorry it is rushed work. This will fit better.”

Dream stares before glaring as his sockets fill with tears “No! This… this isn’t supposed to be like this!” Dream glares at Nightmare “How could you?!”

Oh no not again.

Nightmare looks at Dream and that slight edge is back again “I just… I needed… I just wanted…” Each time Nightmare tries to speak he seems to stop as soon as he hears his own voice. Shock obvious on his face.

Dream glares “I can’t believe you would betray me! I trusted you! I thought we were a team!”

Nightmare looks so sad “We are…”

Dream shakes his skull.

Which is when Sera walks in. Great. This day just went from bad to horrible. And that is impressive as Ccino had believed he would become a sex slave.

Sera glares at him “Why are you making orders and what is going on?!”

Ccino just takes the fabric she brought and gets to work sewing quickly. He can’t make it complex or too detailed but anything fitting will be better than Nightmare being crowned while naked “Prince Nightmare ate the apple. I am preparing him for his coronation as quickly as I can.”

Sera looks shocked before frowning “You should not be this involved! Step aside as I will do so instead.”

Ccino shoots her a look “And what role gives you this right?”

Sera glares “I am the head of the servants! Including you!”

Ccino can’t help but smile brightly as he answers “Actually. As you very often told me. I am not a part of the servants. I am one of the king’s loyals.” He smiles brightly as he enjoys the shock on her face “And as you often told me. I don’t belong in your group.”

She sputters and glares “You have some nerve! You are nothing but a toy! Something to throw aside when the king is done with you!”

Ccino nods “Of course. But that is the king’s decision.” He makes sure to smile pleasantly “And you wouldn’t go against the king’s will… would you?”

Sera is seething but nods “I wouldn’t.”

Ccino nods “Good. Now. The guests will be forced to wait a little longer. I am sure they would appreciate some extra refreshments and food.” This time he downright smirks as he shoots her a look “After all. Your performance will reflect on all of us.”

Sera is furious. Ccino knows why of course. She must not enjoy Ccino echoing her own words back at her.

Sera nods before leaving the room.

Ccino checks his hands and is happy to note he got the basics done. This will sadly have to do. He walks over to Nightmare “My lord? May I help you?”

Nightmare blinks slowly at him before nodding “Yes.” He remains still as Ccino puts the newly made shirt over his head and carefully moves the slits he made in place. The tendrils move easily through it and seem to brush against his side and Ccino shudders. The goop is cool and sticks slightly. Still. He moves  with purpose as he gets Nightmare into his new shirt. It is a bit too tight for the other and Nightmare frowns as he looks down at it. Ccino starts messing with the seams as he tries to gain a bit more room for Nightmare to move around in.

Ccino eventually needs to abandon that as he has to focus on the other parts. The cloak he made is easy in design and has a hood attached for Nightmare to use if needed. He quickly stitches in the familiar pattern of the moon phases at the button and around the neck before putting it over his shoulders.

Shit. The normal strings would just not be impressive enough.

Come on think. Think. Think.

Ccino sees a glimmer of gold and looks down. His jewellery!

Ccino quickly undoes the chain around his neck and clips each end on the cape. It works and gives it a nice shine. Mmh.

Ccino is quick to remove all his bracelets and other gold items as he moves around Nightmare. Putting some on the tendrils, which seem to really like wrapping around his arm or leaning against him. Ccino gives them gentle pats each time he needs to move or he removes them.

At the end his own clothes are much darker thanks to all the goop but Nightmare looks at least a little bit like a king. Ccino hopes that the distance from the others will be large enough that it isn’t obvious that this is a very bad patch job but he did what he could.

Ccino nods as he grabs a spare outfit for himself and quickly changes. No longer the very clear offering but at this point Ccino thinks the best thing to do is to get the whole day over with before trying to pull everything back together.

Ccino nods to the twins as he speaks “Okay! That is all I can do. If we take much longer they will become impatient and we don’t need them to be mad.” It is scary how easy it is for him to fall back into this role. How natural it always felt to speak to them as babysitter, caretaker and, he only dares to think it, older brother. Even with Nightmare now being a deity it still feels natural. It feels easy.

“We will go out to the throne room and the guards will open the doors. More people will watch as the priest crowns Nightmare. After that they will party but it is fine if you two retire for the night at that point.”

Dream glares “Nightmare shouldn’t be crowned! I should be!”

Ccino flinches as he looks between the twins. Making sure to keep his voice calm as he speaks “I know Dream. But I don’t think anyone will accept that. Not while the ritual and powers accepted Nightmare…” because that is what happened. Even if people seem to refuse to see it. According to all the rules known of the ritual. Nightmare completed each step. He has a new form and new power. He was accepted and ascended. Both to king and to be a god.

Ccino doesn’t know if there are private rules he doesn’t know but he wouldn’t even know who would know. So this is the situation they have at the moment.

Dream shakes his skull and slaps Ccino’s hand away. Yeah he figured. Ccino doesn’t take it personally. “It is wrong!” Dream glares at Nightmare.

Nightmare still has this glint in his sockets but each time he stares for too long at Dream, Ccino can see that Nightmare also focusses on him and the glint disappears.

Ccino focusses on Dream as he tries to calm the other down “I know you are angry Dream. But please. We don’t have time to discuss this and-”

Dream shakes his skull “I don’t care!” he glares at Nightmare “How could you!”

Nightmare’s tendrils slowly rise “I don’t…”

Dream doesn’t listen and his hand finds an old bust and he swings it right against Nightmare’s skull. A loud crack of stone and bones as the bust falls to pieces.

Silence before shock overtakes any emotion Ccino feels. Ccino rushes over as Nightmare slowly rises to his full height. His new tendrils sharpening and rising themselves.

Ccino gets to them and stands between them again “No! Both of you stop that. Dream! You know better than attacking your brother.” He shoots Dream a look.

Dream shakes as tears run down his angry face “He stole my future!”

Ccino shoots him a disapproving look “And you just hit him with a stone bust.” He sighs as turns towards the door to see it slightly open. Of course this guy is listening in. Whatever! Ccino speaks loudly “Cadet Rogers. Bring Dream to his room and stand guard. Make sure no one can bother the prince as the prince remains inside the room.”

Dream sputters “You can’t! You can’t do that!”

Ccino gives him a disapproving look “You are hurting. I know that. But you hurting is not an excuse to hurt others. You know your brother better than anyone and you should know that he would never hurt you unless he had a very good reason for it or had to. Instead of trying to communicate you attacked him. For this reason it is best to separate you two while we move on with the coronation.”

Dream shakes in rage as he looks down “I was supposed to be king.”

Ccino doesn’t feel good about this. But too much is counting on this. They can work on mending their relationship when Nightmare has the crown and people remain loyal. Than they can talk and relax. Cadet Rogers takes the prince away to his room and Ccino turns to Nightmare.

He only now realises that he had his back to Nightmare the whole time. That he had his back to someone who had his tendrils sharpened moments ago. But Nightmare looks calm and… he is leaning against the hand Ccino had held out to signal Nightmare to stay back. Ccino hadn’t even noticed as he tried to manage Dream.

Ccino checks his outfit once more before checking the skull. He can’t see anything. The goop is all liquid and hiding everything and Ccino isn’t sure if he can wipe it away safely “Nightmare? Does it hurt?” They are alone now. Ccino is too distraught to bother with titles unless he has to. Which he will have to in a few minutes.

Nightmare keeps staring at his hand “He… attacked me…”

Ccino frowns and nods “I know…  I am sorry…” he should have expected something like this. He should have made sure they were both safe. He just… he hadn’t thought… He should have considered this a possibility as Dream had been hurt by this.

Nightmare shakes slightly.

Ccino feels so bad for this “Nightmare. I know this is a lot but we can’t wait. People are waiting and have high expectations. You need to be crowned. Do you understand?”

Nightmare is quiet for a moment before nodding.

Ccino sighs “Good… good.” He makes sure to stand tall “Let’s get to work.” And he leads Nightmare out.

-----

Ccino is exhausted. The whole day had been exhausting and Ccino isn’t even sure if he can still recall everything that happened. Ccino just…

He just wants to sleep.

He rolls up in his bed. Now dressed in PJs as he tugs his blanket around. It is much too late for him. But he will need to be up early tomorrow to help Night- their king get ready for his first official day as king. Not to forget he needs to visit prince Dream and make sure he is okay.

Ccino is so tired and-

A knock on his door.

Ccino frowns. That is unusual. He walks towards his door and glances through the keyhole. He stares in shock before opening the door wide and bowing “My king. What do I own you this visit?”

His king stands there. A frown on his face “My… My mother’s room feels… wrong… I can’t sleep there. Dream hates me and does not wish to share his room. I wanted to sleep with you.” He still struggles with his sentences.

Ccino feels his soul freeze for a moment with the last part but he can see Nightmare means it literally. He doesn’t want to be alone.

Ccino isn’t sure why he can still read Nightmare just like he used to. You would think that Ccino lost that skill when Nightmare gained a new body. But even if the body is different. Even with his face being different. Ccino can still read him like he always does.

Ccino nods “Of course. Please come in.” he holds the door open and Nightmare walks in. He stands in the middle of the room seemingly lost.

Right. He doesn’t have any clothes in his new size. Ccino adds that to the mental to do list for tomorrow as well. Making sure their king has clothes that actually fit him. For now Ccino opens his drawer and searches it. He has a few oversized dress shirts and hopes it is big enough. He hands one over to Nightmare.

Nightmare looks at it before undressing and dressing in the clothing item. Ccino grabbed a spare pillow from the cabinet in the hall before throwing that on his bed as well.

It takes a moment but then they are both in Ccino’s bed. Nightmare gives a full body shudder and tugs his face and skull right by Ccino’s neck and shoulder.

Ccino has the strongest sense of déjà vu. Of when Nightmare was much smaller and he had night terrors. How Nightmare would use the servants tunnels to get to his room and climb into his bed at night. How they would make little blanket forts on days when everyone told Nightmare he wasn’t good enough. How Nightmare would climb into his bed when he was sad.

Nightmare… Nightmare may not look or feel or sound like the Nightmare Ccino knows. But it is still Nightmare. It is still his little Nighty.

Ccino hugs the large being closer “Sshh… it is okay… I am here.”

Nightmare shakes and shudders “Please… Please stay… I am so scared…”

Ccino tightens his hold on the other and holds him close “I am here Nighty. I swear on my soul.”

That seems to do it as Nightmare just holds unto him tightly. Tight enough that Ccino can feel his nails grip into his back. Ccino can feel those new tendrils circle him and hold him closely. Ccino just keeps holding unto Nightmare, keeps him in an embrace.

Eventually Nightmare falls asleep. Ccino can’t even find it in himself to care about the rumours this will cause. About the rumours that will follow after Nightmare leaves Ccino’s room.

Ccino doesn’t care. He will help and assist Nightmare. Everything will be alright.

[starheirxero]

[rez]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Anyway

Hope Castor can help Lunar.

Or atleast point him in the right direction.

I think Lunar is finally facing himself really.

And I understand wanting him out of the house but like- why are they surprised he ran away?

Thats like what Lunar does? He ran for months after he died, him running away is par for the course. And he was gone for three days because he was in jail? They didn't even accept that, they just got mad at him for running. As if Monty hadn't actually decided he was gonna kill Lulu.

Like Lunar would probably be dead if he'd stayed, or atleast injured.

'We do still love you and youre still our little brother'

-They say as they irepibly damage any and all trust Lunar had in them at the moment and in the future.

Moon I understand you want him to actually face consequences but there's no going back from this!

Lunar will never trust you, or anyone else in this family, again.

Castor pleasepleaseplease be the one who finds him.

Ohhh how I want to see more Pollux and Castor interactions bc as I said in another ask that idk if you received Cas almost seems to be avoiding talking to her specifically about Lulu.

That or Lunar gets kidnapped again.

More specifically by the creator so gem (or even just Cas) have to save him

But with Gemini separate there's also the possibility rez or someone else targets one of the twins while the other is away so thatd be neat.

ALL OF THIS NODNODNOD!!!!!!

I think Castor choosing to help Lunar while Pollux doesn't would be really interesting from a Gemini perspective. They're the twins, they make up one astral, one constellation together. If they truly become divided over this, I would be deeply fascinated to see where it goes from there since we got so used to seeing them as Gemini—a collective entity—rather than themselves.

And YEAH LIKE. Listen. I know that to the family, because they don't actually have the full picture, it looks like Lunar is just a loose canon that attacked Earth in a fit and then dipped. But also LUNAR TRIED TO EXPLAIN THAT THEY WERE IN LITERALLY INCAPABLE OF RETURNING SOONER BC THEY WERE JAILED AND THEN REZ PUT THEM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLOBE. AND MOON JUST WENT "I DON'T CARE." LIKE CMON 😭 "why were you gone for 3 days" "i was jailed and then left in russia" "whatever i dont care" MOON WHEN I GET YOU.......

THE "I LOVE YOUS" BETWEEN IT ALL YEAH.

I'm sorry but no amount of "you are family and we love you" is going to lessen the blow of "you have basically been squatting in my house (that i invited you into and you've been paying rent for) and you're a danger to this entire family so I want you to never speak or get near any of us until you sort yourself out." ESPECIALLY WHEN MOON SAID "YOU'RE LUCKY I EVEN STILL CONSIDER YOU FAMILY" LIKE I'M SORRY BUT THAT'S WILD. Again, I understand Moon in this situation. That does not mean I don't think he wasn't insanely rude LMAO 😭

Exactly like you said, Moon cannot undo this. Lunar has always looked up to old Moon and so I cannot imagine how much more it hurts coming from him. I honestly can't imagine a clear future where Lunar is going to feel safe amongst their own family again, knowing that they all viewed them as dangerous enough to be kicked out. Honestly, I'm half expecting this to end up as "Lunar lives independently and then realizes they actually feel better not living around their family and that they were kinda awful for them on accident" HDKSHDJS

YEA MORE CASTOR N POLLUX INTERACTIONS WOULD BE GREAT...... Yesyes I have received ur other ask and I'm actually gunna answer it after this one but GHOD yeah. Seeing them disagree abt smth is so interesting and I need more of it....... If one twin is hurt tho,,,,,,, ouhg. The Angst........

[kaylatoonz]

Movie Amy Rose lost world AU

I think it would be funny if they introduce Amy through the Lost World plot line but they make a bunch of references and jabs at the Mario movie/games.

Context:

Amy Rose is a resident of the lost world who protects and cares for the critters and the people residing on the planet. The people and critters wanted to show their appreciation towards Miss Rose, so decided to celebrate Amy’s anniversary of first arriving on the planet. They set up a party inviting all her friends she made along the way, her favorite games and dishes. They even make her an elegant princess-like dress to wear. Amy loved fairy tales so she often talked about living life like a fairytale, going on adventures, and maybe one day meeting her prince. They couldn’t exactly provide an adventure to satisfy the excitable hedgehog nor could they offer a prince to her liking, So a beautiful dress would have to suffice. To their joy, Amy loved and appreciated the gesture all the same. Even if there weren’t any adventures and princes in her future, she was satisfied with the people who loved and appreciated her.

Unfortunately, it is short-lived when she is kidnapped by Zavok of the deadly six. Apparently, a foolish Doctor (They could use Doctor Starline if Eggman is gone) released an entity that they could not control and now they were the lost world‘s problem. Now Amy just might get that adventure and “prince” she always wants when Sonic and the gang come to her aid.

Bonus context:

Amy: It looks like big, red, and grumpy wants a round two.😭

Sonic: go home browser wanna be! I saved the princess, which means it’s game over.😎

Amy: *giggles* I don’t think he gets the memo.😏

Amy internally: “he called me a princess 🤯🤤😊”

[obsessionatthemoment]

I finally made Byler into sims a few days ago, and they started playing video games together in their apartment, and I genuinely almost started crying. I was grinning ear to ear and kept saying, "they're living their little sim lives", and my dad was also at the table, seeing the whole thing.

I'm not going to post pictures of them, because they only vaguely look like themselves (so much so that I named them "Mike??" and "Will??" because I couldn't stand naming them normally when they look different). I will, however, describe some highlights of their "little sim lives" so far.

First off, I enrolled them in college. Will?? is studying fine arts, and Mike?? is studying writing.

Second, obviously the video game moment (I gave them both the geek trait, so I feel like that speaks for itself).

I had them both practicing their respective interests (Will?? painting, and Mike?? writing). I decided to have Will?? paint a drawing from reference, then I realized he could paint Mike??, so I used Mike as the reference. Mike?? was eating when the picture was taken, so now there's a painting of Mike?? standing in the middle of a room, holding a plate, lol.

Later, I decided to have them go on a date, so they went to this bar, nightclub place because that was one of the few places in their town. Anyway, they were doing date things, then I saw that there was a "give gift" option, so I was like "omg, I'm going to make Will?? give Mike?? a gift". The only option to give was the painting from reference, so he gave Mike?? that. Obviously Mike?? was happy, but that wasn't the best part. The best part was that when I went to Will??'s profile thing, he also had the "I just got a romantic gift" positive feeling thing, and I realized that Mike?? had given Will?? a rose without me telling him to.

Anyway, that was all, however, I will probably post about my Byler sims in the future.

I hope they can live their "best little sim lives" in the show, if that makes sense. Like, I would really like some more domestic moments, but I'm not sure if that's realistic??

[marsandwich]

What if Schlatt and Reader were friends and playfully flirt with one another. And reader has a crush on him, so reader makes a joke or whatever that insinuates a relationship between the two, but Schlatt says: “uhh… you’re not really my type… you’re kinda…ugly…?”

You can decide if he’s just joking and there’s a happy ending, or if it ends with angst.

bye i love this because i would genuinely burst out in tears if a 6’3 200 pound man said im ugly. BUT! ima end this with a happy ending since the girl who did end up experiencing it was fine with it and found it funny!

You and schlatt were doing a IRL stream for the first time, usually you guys were just on call during streams.

You and schlatt jokingly flirt most of the time, that’s just how your friendship is and how it developed. What schlatt didn’t know is you had a huge crush on him. It grew over the years of being friends and you decided this stream you were gonna make a funny joke about the two of you possibly dating.

“Hey schlatt, wouldn’t it be funny if we ended up dating in the future?” you jokingly say obviously wanting to make him feel nervous. But it backfire..

“uhhh… you’re not really my type… you’re kinda… ugly..” he says with a mocked disgusted look on his face and you both sit in silence. the stream chat bashes schlatt for being rude but the stream continues on is if nothing happened.

After the stream ended you and schlatt go watch a movie in his living room and you decided to spark up conversation.

“So schlatt, do you actually think i’m.. ugly?” you look at him nervously and he looked a little flabbergasted you brought up the topic again.

“What? oh- uhhh no? that was just a joke i thought we were joking..” he says mumbling kind of.

“So you don’t think i’m ugly?” you smile “am i your type?” you bug him even more and he groans

“well you’re not ugly” he smiles at you “and you MIGHT be my type” he teases you.

“Is that so?” you smile and cuddle up next to schlatt to continue to watch the movie. “mhm” he hums and cuddles you back, the night ends with you both sleeping on the couch cuddled up, figuring out what the future holds the next day.

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

I would like to request romantic yandere scott summers x reader where his darling has amnesia. Now I don’t know how they got amnesia but scott brings reader home from the hospital one day and takes reader home claiming the reader is his wife or husband( gender does not matter), even though they were not married before. Scott takes advantage of the fact reader has amnesia, I would also have to assume they are not at the mansion so scott can do his yandere doings

BAG OF BONES

Sinopsis. You remembered nothing, not even your name, yet he wove stories with threads of gold and promises. His voice, a refuge; his gaze, a cage. He claimed to love you like never before, like always. How could you doubt someone who swore to be your everything, even if his love felt like a prison disguised as home?

pairing ── Yandere! Scott Summers x Amnesiac! Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Dark themes, violence/death, blood, retrograde amnesia, forced marriage, inappropriate touching, insolation, invasion of privacy, kidnapping?, Slight mention of pregnancy, delusion, Angst, murdering, Disturbing Content, Death of a canonical character, lgbt?, Unhealthy Obsession, Gaslight, Mental Illness, Corruption, Isolation, Paranoia, Manipulation.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Honestly, I've always been interested in the Yandere x Amnesiac theme. It's really fascinating how the psychology of the characters can be so complex in these types of stories. Also, thank you for being clear and concise in your request, and I hope you enjoy it.

They say one should never try to go back to the past, that the present is where we must live and the future what we must build. But how could you do that when you felt a piercing emptiness in your chest, a pain you didn’t understand? Your heart screamed that something was wrong, that what you were experiencing wasn’t real, that danger lurked closer than you could imagine.

The white glare of the hospital lights blinded you as you opened your eyes. You felt your body heavy, your mind clouded, and an absolute bewilderment that made you tremble. Everything felt strange, as if you were a piece out of place in an unknown puzzle. Then you saw him.

A tall man, with a firm build, wearing burgundy glasses that hid his eyes but not his excited expression. His smile lit up upon seeing you awake, and before you could say anything, his lips pressed against your forehead, your cheeks, your hair, leaving desperate and anxious kisses.

“Thank God you’re okay,” he whispered with a warm, relieved voice.

But you weren’t. You remembered nothing. Not even your name. Confusion filled you, and words wouldn’t come to your lips. He, however, seemed to have all the answers.

“I’m Scott Summers, do you remember me?” he said, taking your hand gently. His fingers were warm, but the way he squeezed them made you feel trapped—“We just got married.”

Married? The impact left you breathless. You looked at your hands, and there it was: a beautiful diamond ring along with a wedding band. Its shine seemed to confirm his words. When you looked up, you saw he wore a similar set on his left hand.

“I... don’t remember...” you started to say, but he shook his head gently.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re alive, and that’s all that matters. I’ll take care of you.”

His voice was sweet, reassuring, and you decided to believe him. Why wouldn’t you? Everything seemed to fit: the ring, the familiarity in his gestures, the way he looked at you. But deep inside, there was something you couldn’t silence.

There was something in his smile, something in the way his fingers never stopped touching you, that made you feel exposed. Vulnerable. Like you were a butterfly trapped in a display case, admired but with no escape.

How naïve you were to think that warmth meant safety.

When he took you to what he said was your home, the confusion inside you grew heavier, more oppressive. It was a small cabin in the midst of a lush forest, completely isolated from the rest of the world. Scott explained that the distance was necessary, that you had always preferred the tranquility of nature, away from societal judgment, especially for what you were: a mutant.

“You used to say that here you could be yourself,” he murmured with a smile as he parked the car. His words were warm, but they sounded strange.

As he guided you through the house, you noticed how his explanations seemed overly rehearsed, almost mechanical. The master bedroom was cozy, with dark wooden furniture and a large bed, but there was something unsettling in how orderly everything was, as if you had never truly lived there.

“This is the guest room,” he said as he opened a door. The space was filled with tools and paint, as if it were in the process of being transformed—“I’m preparing it for something special.”

You didn’t ask for what. There was something in his tone that dissuaded you from doing so.

The kitchen, however, came with a warning. “Don’t enter here without me, okay? I want to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

“Hurt myself?” The phrase hung in your mind as he showed you the rest of the house. Finally, you arrived at the living room, the space that unsettled you the most.

It was a mix of museum and altar. There were photos of you everywhere: smiling, reading, walking in a park you didn’t recognize. Some included Scott, his arm always firmly around your shoulders, and others showed a group of people who seemed unfamiliar yet strangely familiar.

In one of the photos, a group dressed in flamboyant, almost theatrical clothes stood out. It was a mosaic of colors and textures that evoked something lost on the edge of your memory. In the image, you were in a corner, embraced by a young woman with pink glasses who seemed a few years younger than you. On your other side, a brown-haired woman with white streaks smiled subtly, though she didn’t touch you. She seemed close, important.

However, what caught your attention the most wasn’t any of them, but a figure in the background, almost hidden behind Scott. A woman with bright red hair who seemed to look at the man with particular intensity. The photo was slightly blurry, as if someone had manipulated it or neglected it on purpose.

“Who is she?” you asked, pointing at the blurred figure before you could stop yourself.

Scott tensed immediately. His smile vanished for an instant before returning, though more forced. “Oh, just someone from the past. It doesn’t matter now. The only thing that matters is you and how happy we are together.”

You didn’t press. His response wasn’t enough, but something in his gaze told you that pushing was dangerous.

That night, as you tried to sleep, doubts burned inside you. Who was that woman? Why couldn’t you remember anything about your life, not even the people in those photos? And above all, why did every time you looked at Scott, the weight in your chest grew heavier, as if you were trapped in a gilded cage?

You didn’t love Scott. You couldn’t. Maybe you had at some point, but if that was the case, that love didn’t survive the accident that erased your memories. Now, he was a stranger, and his constant need for contact suffocated you. Scott wasn’t just clingy; he was voracious. Every caress felt like an indelible mark on your skin, every kiss a reminder that you weren’t free.

He adored being glued to you, almost as if he feared you would disappear if he let go. He insisted on bathing you, choosing your clothes and dressing you, his fingers grazing your skin more than necessary. He prepared every meal with devotion and served it to you as if you were a deity to be worshipped. But even those gestures, so carefully disguised as love, carried a shadow you couldn’t ignore.

“I want you to feel cared for, protected,” he would tell you with a smile as he brushed your hair. His words were sweet, but the way he said them was unsettling, as if he were convincing himself more than you.

Days passed in suffocating routines and deafening silence. Scott took you outdoors, around the cabin, making sure not to stray too far. He said it was for your safety, but you knew that wasn’t true. Every time you looked at the forest, so vast and full of possibilities, you felt a growing urge to run, to escape, even though you didn’t know where to go.

And then the flashes began.

At first, they were fleeting images, fragments that emerged when you least expected them. A smile that wasn’t from Scott. A soft laugh. Bright green eyes framed by fiery red hair. The woman from the photo.

Every time those memories surfaced, a sharp pain pierced your head, as if your mind struggled to protect you from something you didn’t want to know. But the most disturbing thing wasn’t the woman, but how you saw her: standing next to Scott, his hand in hers, their lips forming words you couldn’t hear. Happy. United. Almost as if…

No.

The first day you had that memory, you screamed in the middle of breakfast. The spoon fell from your hands as you instinctively recoiled in your chair. Scott was beside you in an instant, his hands firm on your shoulders, his eyes hidden behind glasses but his face filled with concern.

“What’s wrong, love? Are you okay?”

“I... I...” You tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was look at his hands, those same hands that in your visions touched another woman with the same devotion as they now touched you.

Scott frowned, his expression darkening for a moment before a nervous smile returned to his face. “It’s just your mind playing tricks on you. It’s normal, sweetheart. Take a moment.”

But it wasn’t. And you knew it.

That night, as you brushed your teeth, the mirror in front of you trembled. Not from any external movement, but because your mind was slowly breaking, releasing pieces of a puzzle you were just beginning to recognize. A flash hit you, as if a storm were dragging you to another time.

She was there, the red-haired woman you had seen before, but this time she wasn’t a blurry image. Her laughter was warm, almost contagious, and you were next to her, shy, with a small smile that barely dared to emerge. Her hand rested gently on your arm while the other figures around you joined in the conversation.

The dark-haired woman with white streaks watched you with a mischievous look, an eyebrow raised as she crossed her arms. Beside her, a young woman with pink glasses laughed loudly, patting your shoulder as if she had known you forever. Nearby, another tall woman, with deep eyes and a majestic demeanor, looked at you with a mix of understanding and affection. They all seemed to encourage something, their animated voices like a chaotic melody you could barely comprehend.

“He’s a good man,” one of them said, her tone firm but kind. “He adores you!” exclaimed the youngest, with a beaming smile. “Just go and have a little fun.”

But not all were so enthusiastic. The red-haired woman didn’t share their laughter or their words of encouragement. Her expression was softer, almost melancholic, and her eyes met yours for a long moment. When the others dispersed, she stepped closer to you.

Her hands took yours, warm and steady, and for a moment you felt more protected than you had in a long time. She didn’t say anything at first, just hugged you tightly, her embrace speaking more than any words. Leaning toward your ear, her voice was a whisper, but her words were etched into your memory.

“You have my blessings…” Her breath was shaky, and you felt her fingers tighten slightly on your back—“And I love you.”

You stepped back slightly to look at her, but her smile seemed like a mask. There was something in her eyes you couldn’t understand at that moment, something that hurt you in a strange way.

The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving you standing in front of the mirror, gasping. You gripped the edge of the sink, your fingers white from the pressure. Your reflection seemed distant, as if it weren’t yours.

Who was she? What did it all mean? And above all, why did her face, her voice, her embrace fill you with a warmth that made Scott’s love feel cold and forced?

The mirror in front of you trembled as you hit it with your hands, gasping, your pupils dilated with terror. Your reflection didn’t look like you. It was a broken version, trapped in a life you didn’t understand.

Scott appeared behind you like a ghost, his hands wrapping around your waist firmly. His warm breath on your neck made you shiver.

“You look tired, love. Let me take care of you.”

The first time you saw him in full clarity was in a dream, or so you thought when you woke up, gasping and with your body soaked in cold sweat.

You were in a dark and damp room, the air heavy with the metallic smell of blood. Your hands trembled as you held a fragile, cold, lifeless body: a woman with red hair, now dulled and stuck to her pale face. Blood stained her lips and flowed from multiple wounds on her chest, as if something had pierced her repeatedly. They weren’t normal wounds; they were small, irregular caves, burned by a heat that couldn’t be human.

Jean. Her name hit you like lightning. Jean. Now you knew, and the weight of that name on your chest made you sob as you held her against you, trying, futilely, to cover the wounds with your hands.

“No... no, please, wake up...” Your voice was a desperate whisper, broken, a lament in the void.

The sound of footsteps behind you made your body tense. You recognized them before turning around. Their walk was unmistakable: confident, calculated, almost victorious.

Scott was there. His figure was silhouetted against the dim light, his burgundy glasses shining with an unsettling glow. His face showed no sadness, no guilt. Only satisfaction.

“It had to be this way,” he said with a calm voice, too tranquil for the scene before you. His tone was gentle, almost kind, as if he were explaining something simple.

You stood frozen, your hands still holding the body of the woman, while your mind struggled to process his words.

“What... what did you do?” you managed to murmur, though your voice was barely a thread.

Scott took another step forward, his boots echoing on the stone floor. He knelt before you, ignoring the blood staining the ground and spreading like a river between you two. His hand rose to caress your cheek, and you flinched, unable to move.

“Now that she��s gone…” he continued, his tone filled with a sweetness that was terrifying—“nothing can separate us. We can be together, just as we were always meant to be.”

Your body reacted before your mind did. You let Jean’s body fall, stumbling backward, your hands still trembling, covered in her blood. “You’re crazy!” you shouted, though your voice broke into a sob at the end.

But Scott didn’t seem affected. He stood up with the calmness of someone who knows he has already won. He took a step toward you, and then another, until you had no space left to escape.

“No, love,” he said, leaning toward you, his breath brushing your ear—“I’m in love.”

The intensity in his voice paralyzed you. It was a declaration, not an explanation. He truly believed that everything he had done was out of love.

The dream, or the memory, ended there, with his face so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his skin. You woke up with a start, a muffled scream in your throat and your heart pounding in your chest.

Your hands continued to tremble as you looked around the room. You were in the cabin, in your bed, but the smell of blood still seemed to linger in the air.

“Are you okay?” Scott’s voice broke the silence. He was next to you, watching you with his typical feigned concern, his hand already reaching for yours.

You instinctively recoiled, pulling away from his touch, but you tried to hide it. Your breathing was ragged, and you forced yourself to nod. “Just... a bad dream.”

He smiled, but his eyes behind the glasses didn’t stop watching you with that intensity that always seemed to hide something more. “I’m here for you. Always.”

That night, you decided you had to uncover the truth, even if it cost you your sanity... or your life.

A/N ── Yes, it’s not a happy ending, but at least it’s an ending that leaves a lot of room for reflection. I wanted to try out a conclusion like this at some point, and I hope it didn’t make anyone uncomfortable. Thank you for reading, and if you want to request something, feel free to do so as long as requests are open. More information in the pinned comment!

Take a bath!

[diltonsstrangescience]

Outfit appreciation post (Ancient Rome edition)