#oliver queen x sister!reader

[book-place]

Paradise

Warnings: arrow s1 spoilers, mentions of death, nightmares, weapons, violence, cursing, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Oliver Queen x sister reader, Thea Queen x sister reader, Moira Queen x daughter reader

*not my gif*

Summary: When that yacht went down, you lost everything. But now, Oliver is back

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Paradise by Coldplay

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

When she was just a girl, she expected the world

“Have fun,” You smiled as you hugged your father, turning your head to place a kiss on his cheek.

He matched your smile, hugging you back tightly, “Don’t get too comfortable around here without us,” He teased, “We’ll be back before you know it.”

“We’re counting on it.” Your mother said with a smile, watching as her husband turned to her with a large grin.

As the two of them said goodbye, you turned towards your twin brother, and you scoffed playfully, “Just get out of here.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the smile that broke out on your face.

He matched your sarcasm by crossing his arms over his chest and lightly glaring at you, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll miss you too.”

The grin widened on your face and you took a step forward, wrapping your arms around Oliver’s torso as he hugged you back in return.

Your brother turned his head slightly and planted a kiss on the side of your head in his own farewell.

“Make sure the yacht doesn’t sink.” You joked, not quite understanding the power behind your words.

“Don’t worry,” Oliver reached out and teasingly ruffled your hair, “I know how to swim.”

But it flew away from her reach

“-and then the boat went down,” The officer in front of you had his hat off and he stared at the three of you sympathetically.

Immediately, Thea fell against your mother with a loud cry leaving her lips as tears began to roll down her face like a waterfall. Moira tightly grasped onto her and held her to her chest while they sobbed together for the loss of your father and brother.

But you stood there, feet rooted in place and heart frozen over, you were sure that it had stopped beating.

Your brother- your twin brother- was dead. Your other half was gone. And though the two of you didn’t always see eye to eye on everything, you were still each other's best friend. You knew everything about each other and now that he was gone, you were certain that you would fade away into nothing.

Because without Oliver, where did you stand? How could you be expected to walk through life without your partner in crime by your side?

You were barely able to register the way your mother moved to wrap an arm around you, and how her and Thea clung to you. But you were still yet to move, to show any sign of what you were feeling, to look away from the officer.

“I understand that this is a lot to take in-“ He didn’t even finish his sentence before you slammed the door in his face.

Thea and your mother whipped their heads up and their lips parted in shock to see your arm still outstretched to where you closed the door.

Without a word, you shrugged off their hands and turned on your heel and walked away.

So she ran away in her sleep

“At least take a moment to think about this,” Moiras voice was desperate, begging, “We barely just had a their funeral, I don’t think you’re in the right state of mind-“

You cut her off as you slammed down the top of your suitcase and leveled a glare at her, “I am in the right frame of mind,” You moved around her to begin collecting things off of your desk and placing them in a bag, “And what I’m thinking is that I need to get the hell out of the place that’s reminding me so much of my dead father and twin brother.”

The words made her recoil, as if struck, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. You had spoken the truth, it hurt more to stay in a place that reminded you so much of them than not.

“You can’t just leave your family at a time like this,” She whispered, eyes filling up with tears.

It seemed like all of you had cried enough tears to last a lifetime after the reality of the situation had finally crashed over you at the funeral and you had broken down in a pile of sobs. You were surprised to see that she could still cry, you had thought that all three of you would have long since run out of tears.

Finally, you sighed and gently placed your bag down, softening at your mothers voice and making your way over to where she stood before wrapping your arms around her, “It’ll be alright,” It was an empty promise, and you both knew it.

She sniffled, holding you against her tightly and whispering in your ear, “Where are you even going?”

You cleared your throat, slowly pulling away, “I don’t know yet.” You answered honestly, “But I promise I’ll call you soon to let you know I’m alright.”

There was hesitation and fear clear as day present in her face, but you paid it no mind as you picked your bags up and made your way out of the room, bidding her one last farewell.

You froze in your steps though when you sucked in a sharp breath. Thea was standing right outside your door, staring up at you with those wide eyes of hers.

“Where are you going?” She asked softly.

A sigh left your lips and you gently brought the girl in for a hug, “I just have to go away for a little while, Thea,” You whispered, “I need to clear my head.”

She bit down on her lip and averted her gaze from your own, “For how long?”

“I don’t know. But I promise, I will be back.”

Dreamed of para-para-paradise

Your eyes snapped open and you flew up into a sitting position, breathing coming out rapidly and in gasping spurts.

It had been three years since the yacht went down and you were still yet to come home after all that time. You had moved to a nearby city, only communicating with your family every so often to let them know that you were still alright.

But no matter how much time passed, you could never shake that feeling of wrongness.

Somewhere inside you, against every bone of better judgment, you believed that Oliver was still alive. You knew it was wrong and you knew that it was nothing but false hope. But no matter what you tried, no matter how much you begged yourself to move on, you couldn’t.

How could you? After being told what had happened and it was as if half of your soul had been ripped out?

The nightmares began the day you recived the news. Senerios flashing in your mind of what could have happened. Of all the different painful ways your brother could have died. Your mind was a never ending torment of the whole thing.

Once you were finally able to get your breathing under control, you dropped your head into your hands and ran them down your face with a groan.

Your head picked up after a moment and your eyes subconsciously found the small picture frame that sat on your beside table.

In it, Oliver had his arm slung over your shoulder with a wide grin as you doubled over laughing at something that he undoubtedly said. It was your sixteenth birthday and you both looked so happy, so free. So oblivious to what was to come.

It had taken you about two and a half years before you could put that picture up without feeling like you were painfully being stabbed in the heart. But even now, it wasn’t the easiest thing to look at.

Para-para-paradise, para-para-paradise

Five years. That’s how long it’s been. That’s how much time passed and you had finally, after all these years, begun to learn how to burden your pain correctly. How to be able to still live your life without him by your side.

That’s why you decided to return home for the first time since the funeral.

Just a few days ago, you had called home with the news and both your mother and Thea seemed ecstatic, much to your relief. You had been worried that they would scoff and turn their noses up at you that you were finally coming back after all these years of pushing them away.

It wouldn’t be a permanent move, just for a few days, to see how things were. Because despite everything you had been through in the last few years, you still had a life that you built in your new home for yourself, and you weren’t quite ready to abandon it entirely.

Now, as you stood, staring up at your childhood home, the one you had almost never dreamed of returning to, you were hit with a wave of reluctance.

What if too much had changed over the years? What if your family had just felt inclined to allow you back, only doing so because of the guilt that they felt?

You nawed on your bottom lip as you contemplated the possibilities, but ultimately came to the conclusion that you needed to get over yourself and you confidently pushed the door open with slightly more force than was probably necessary.

“Y/n?” Thea’s voice bounced off the walls and reached your ears the second you stepped into the entryway.

Quickly, your head snapped over to where your sister who was not so little anymore and smiling brightly, came bounding down the stairs and flinging herself across the room to come crashing into your arms.

“Thea,” You breathed out, allowing your eyes to flutter shut in contempt as you hugged her tightly to your chest. You had missed her far too much.

A new voice- more like a gasp- reached your ears and you opened your eyes to come face to face with your mother.

Quietly, Thea slipped out of your hold and stepped back to give you and your mother a moment.

Moira brought a shaky hand up to her mouth as tears filled in her eyes. It was almost as if she hadn’t expected you to actually come today.

“Hey, mom,” You greeted quietly, being the one to take the striding steps to meet her where she stood in the doorway and wrap your arms around her.

“Oh,” She breathed out, hugging you to her tightly and placing a tearful kiss on the side of your head, “I missed you so much, sweetheart.”

Every time she closed her eyes

You let out a loud laugh, throwing your head back and letting your eyes crinkle up as giggles left your mothers and sisters lips as well at the story Moira had just told.

The three of you were sitting around the dining room table, chatting about what had happened in the last five years and eating lunch.

At first, you thought it would be an awkward and stiff conversation, but you soon realized that your family missed you just as much as you had missed them, so you were able to flow into a lunch that consisted of laughter and catching up.

“Ma’am,” A voice tentatively called out from the doorway, a worker stood there hesitantly, seemingly embarrassed for interrupting, “There’s a phone call for you.”

Moira was still sobering up her chuckles as she answered, “Take a message and tell them I’ll get back to them as soon as I can.”

“Ma’am,” She said again, a little bit more confident this time, “It’s the hospital.”

All three of you fell into complete silence as the words dawned on you. The only family you still had was sitting in this room, so what could they want?

Wordlessly, your mother stood up and followed the worker out of the room, leaving you and Thea to share a worried glance behind her back.

A few moments later, you heard a sharp gasp come from the direction and you and your sister immediately shot to your feet and rushed into the room.

Your mother stood in the middle of the room with a phone grasped tightly in her hand and tears flowing freely down her face with a hand placed over her mouth for the second time that day.

“Mom? Mom?” Panic began settling in the pit of your stomach as you hurried to her side and gently took a hold of one of her shoulders, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Painfully slow, she turned her body to face you and over her shoulder you could see Thea watching the two of you with worry.

Your mother then breathed out the one thing that made your heart stop.

“Oliver…”

“Ollie?” Thea came to your side, “What about him?”

“He’s… he’s alive.” Moira cried out, dropping the phone onto the carpeted floor and throwing her arms around the two of you.

But you were frozen in shock.

Oliver was alive. Oliver was alive. Oliver was alive. Oliver was alive. Oliver was-

“Oh my god,” You sobbed out, legs giving out and falling to the floor. You could no longer support yourself.

He was alive.

When she was just a girl she expected the world

“He’s right through here,” You barely even registered the doctor's words as he led you through the halls, “But just be careful Mrs and Miss Queen, this isn’t the same Oliver that you lost.”

Forcefully, Moira made herself plant her feet as she watched you practically float through the air and towards the door that had just been guestered to. As much as she longed to follow after you, she knew that you needed more than anyone to go in before a single other person could see him. She owed you that much.

For some incomprehensible reason, your mind was completely blank, almost as if you had gone into autopilot. Nothing of what you had done as soon as you heard the news had been by your own free will. It was as if something had possessed you and tossed your conscience to the side.

You opened the door and took a step inside. The snapping sound of it closing seemed to finally break you out of whatever trance you had been placed in and you blinked once. Twice.

A very tall figure that stood with his back facing towards you turned around at the sound, and you felt like you were going to pass out.

He was Oliver Jonas Queen, there was no doubt about it, but he had changed so much. He was taller, more muscular, so much more mature looking.

There was something behind those stunning blue eyes of his that automatically led you to believe that he had become a guarded man, holding secrets that you couldn’t even begin to guess.

Something about being on that island- as you had briefly been informed on the way over- had changed him. The only thing you couldn’t tell from a single glance was if it was for better or worse.

“Ollie,” You breathed out. It was the only thing that you could say.

“N/n,” He smiled softly, striding across the room and gently wrapped his strong arms around you.

“I-I-“ You stuttered incomprehensibly before throwing your arms around his torso in a desperate manner, “Ollie-“ You sobbed into his chest, a fresh set of tears emerging from your eyes and staining his- no doubt- new shirt.

He didn’t seem to care in the slightest though, only strengthening his hold around you, letting out an almost inaudible sigh of contentment as he did so.

“You’re here,” You whispered, almost as if saying the words aloud would send him away again, making him disappear into nothing.

“I’m here.” He repeated, placing a kiss on your forehead, “I’m here.” There was such intensity in his relief that you began to fear all the things he had been forced to go through.

You pulled away with a tearful smile, the first genuine one that you wore since before his disappearance and cupped his cheek with a disbelieving laugh, “You’re really here.”

But it flew away from her reach

“Thea?” You knocked on her open door and stuck your head in with a wide grin, “It’s time for dinner, you coming?”

She snapped her head up from staring at her hands from where she sat on her bed and you immediately realized the way her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks stained with tear marks.

Worry grasped onto your body and wrapped itself around you as you automatically rushed to her side and crouched down before her, older sister instincts kicking in, “Hey, hey,” You said softly, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Your sister shook her head, chuckling tearfully and wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, “No, nothing. I’m just so happy.”

A smile of relief grew on your face when you realized that she was alright and you reached up to gently swipe a stray piece of hair away from her eyes, “I know, I am too.”

“It’s just- I finally have both of my siblings back.” She breathed out with a wide grin.

Your smile, however, faltered at her words, “What do you mean?” You asked quietly.

Her eyes flitted up to you and she bit down on her lip guiltily when she realized what she said and she shrugged, “No, it- it’s just- it always felt like I lost both you and Oliver when his ship went down.”

Your heart dropped to the bottom of your stomach and your breath caught in your throat, “Oh, Thea-“

“I’m not trying to make you upset,” She immediately rushed out, “It’s just- you left right after Oliver disappeared and it just felt like both of you had died even though I knew that you hadn’t.”

Tears of your own began to fill your eyes, one of sadness for the first time that day, “I’m so sorry.” You whispered, “I never- never meant to do that to you, Thea. I-I just couldn’t stay after everything-“

“And I know that,” She gave you a soft smile and squeezed your hand, “I know that you had to do what you had to do. I’m just happy that you’re both back.”

A smiled sadly, moving another piece of hair behind her hair, “I am too.”

And the bullets catch in her teeth

“Come on, you have to admit, that was fun.” You spoke with a large smile as you swung your arm around and linked it with your twin brothers.

Oliver smiled, placing his hands in his pockets with his arm still wrapped around yours, “It was.” He agreed.

The two of you had just gone out to lunch with Tommy, figuring that it would be best for all three of you to catch up at the same time, given that you all used to be- and still are- best friends.

You turned down an alleyway to take a shortcut to where you parked your car, happily chatting away with one another.

Ever since he got back, the two of you hardly left each other's sides. It felt more comfortable- safer- to be in the vicinity of each other whenever you could. Almost as if that would lessen the chances of the other being taken away once more.

“Freeze!” A deep voice sounded behind you all of a sudden, and you both halted in your steps, “Now turn around with your hands up.”

Quickly, your panic filled eyes flitted over to Oliver, making brief eye contact with him and he gave a subtle nod of his head to let you know to do as was said.

You both turned on your heels with your arms partially raised, and your breath caught in your throat when you caught sight of a man pointing a gun straight at you two with a ski mask pulled over his face.

“Give me your wallets.” He demanded.

No. No. No. No. No. No-

This couldn’t be happening. You just got Oliver back, you would not let anything take him away from you once again.

Quickly, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your wallet, drawing the man’s attention away from your brother long enough for him to shift his body in front of yours slightly.

You stuck your arm out to hand it to the man, and when he moved the gun into one hand and began to reach for it, Oliver quickly stuck his own arm out, slamming his fist into the side of the man’s face.

You stumbled back as the man’s eyes rolled back and he fell unceremoniously to the ground. Knocked out cold before he even hit the pavement.

Oliver let out a sigh through his nose, not even flinching upon the impact of his fist with the man’s jaw before turning back towards you.

“Are you okay?” He asked worriedly, eyes scanning over you for any sign of injury.

All you could manage was a small nod of assurance.

Before the island, the only fights Oliver ever got in were bar fights. Ones filled with sloppy punches and slurred insults. Never had he ever actually learned how to fight for real, let alone know how to punch a man out cold in one go and not look even remotely fazed.

“What happened to you on that island?”

It was the dreaded question. The ‘do not go there’ topic. Something that every single person had been avoiding since his return.

The man stiffened in front of you, “I don’t want to talk about the island.”

There was that look again. The one you saw in the hospital when you first went to retrieve him. That guarded, cold look that held secrets that clearly had restricted access.

“We have to at some point,” Your voice was now coming out as begging, “It can’t be healthy to keep all that bottled up! God knows what you were forced to go through. And I just want to help-“

“You can help by leaving it alone.” He snapped.

At his words, your spine snapped upright and a hard look of your own overcame your features, “Fine.” You said in a cold tone that could rival his.

All at once, he softened and ran a hand down his face with a sigh, “Look, I’m sorry, n/n. It’s just-“ He took a stuttered breath, “It’s just a lot.”

You softened as well, “I know that,” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest, “And I’m not trying to force it out of you. I just want to be here if you need to talk about it.”

“I know,” He walked over and hugged you, “I know. And I appreciate that, n/n, I really do.”

Life goes on, it gets so heavy

“I feel like I don’t even know you anymore, Oliver!” You shouted.

Ever since that day in the alleyway, something seemed to change in your twin brother. No longer did he stick by you every available moment, he now distanced himself from you- from everybody.

“You’re always running off to god knows where, doing god knows what!” You continued, feelings anger and betrayal and nervousness rising inside of you, “We just got you back, and you seem hell bent on making us lose you again!”

Oliver stood stiffly across from you in the living room, arms crossed over his chest and head bowed to the floor. Not once did he shout back, he just took your words with that guarded exterior of his.

“Just talk to me!” You begged now, “I’m not asking you to tell me about those five years- that’s your own business to tell at your own leisure. But I’m your twin sister for god's sake! Tell me what’s going on with you now- in the present.”

“It’s… complicated.” He finally spoke and raised his head to meet your burning gaze, “I promise, I’m only trying to protect you-“

You let out a loud scoff, throwing your arms up mockingly, “Yeah, sure feels like it!”

Anger finally seeped through his mask and painted his features, “What do you want me to say, Y/n? What- you want me to be the same person that I was before the island? You want us to tell each other everything again as if we aren’t grown fucking adults?” His voice gradually raised throughout his small speech until you physically flinched back at the volume of it.

Both of you stood, chests heaving up and down in short pants as you tried to catch your breaths, and for a few moments, that was the only sound echoing in the vast room.

“Fine.” It was your turn to put on a cold exterior, “Fine, you’re right, Oliver. We don’t know each other and we don’t have to. Why would we? We’re ‘grown fucking adults’. We don’t need each other anymore. We’re not children.”

His arms dropped to his sides, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

You shook your head and backed up, holding your hands up in surrender, “No, no. I think that’s exactly what you meant.”

“Y/n-“ He called, but it was too late. You had already stormed out of the room.

The wheel breaks the butterfly

“How did you know I’d be up here?” You mumbled, not lifting your head from where it rested upon your knees that were pulled to your chest.

Moira sighed, carefully lowering herself to sit beside you on the roof, “You used to come up here all the time whenever you and your brother got into a fight.”

You winced slightly, “You heard that?”

She hummed, “Put on quite a show for me and Thea… while on the other side of the house.”

“Sorry about that,” You whispered, taking your sleeve and rubbing the tear stains off your face.

“Oh,” She breathed out sympathetically, reaching over and rubbing your back comfortingly, “It’s alright, sweetheart. You both just said some things you didn’t mean, nothing you can’t come back from.”

You looked at her uncertainty, “Are you sure? We were both pretty brutal.”

Your mother wrapped her arm around your shoulder and allowed you to rest your head on her own, “That’s true, but you and I both know that you two can’t go very long in an argument without making up.”

“I know that,” You whispered, “But that was before. We’re both different people now.”

You missed the way she lifted her head to look at the window she had just crawled out of to come see you, “That’s true. I don't think either of you could last in your arguments as long as you used to.”

Confusion overtook your features and you turned your head up to her with furrowed eyebrows, but her eyes were trained elsewhere. You followed her line of vision and paused. Oliver stood on the roof, looking as if he had just climbed out.

Moira left a lingering kiss on the top of your head before walking back into the house, offering your brother a reassuring smile on her way.

Wordlessly, Oliver sat down beside you, staring out at the garden that you could overlook from where you were perched.

At the same time, you both turned to each other and synchronously said, “I’m sorry.”

You chuckled slightly when you did so, each relaxing slightly.

“I didn’t mean it- any of it.” Oliver said, turning apologetic.

“I know,” You stated, “Neither did I. It’s- it’s just that after everything we went through-“

He cut you off by wrapping an arm around your shoulders like your mother just had and pulling you into his side. Oliver dipped his head to give you a kiss on the top of your head, “I know. I know.”

The two of you fell into a silence that lasted until you finished watching the sun fully set.

Every tear a waterfall

“This is the first time I’m seeing this since the funeral.” You admitted, swinging your arms back and forth by your side.

Oliver turned to you, “Never felt like coming to visit me?” He teased.

You shook your head, “It wasn’t that.” You admitted, “I moved out as soon as the funeral was over.”

Your brother faltered in his steps before catching up to where you now stood, feet planted in front of his and your fathers empty graves.

“You moved out?” He asked in surprise, this being the first he was hearing of it.

“Yeah,” You laughed slightly, “The day you came back was actually the first day I had come to visit home. Looks like we both thought that would be the perfect day to do so. Maybe it’s a twin thing.” You hummed thoughtfully at the end.

“I-I didn’t know you left.” He stuttered out, turning to look at you.

You were slightly taken aback by the way he was taking the news, “Well, yeah… it hurt too much to stay here.” You explained, head tilting slightly as you tried to figure out why this was such a big deal to him.

“I thought- I thought you were still here after all this time.”

“Oliver,” You laughed slightly, “What’s the big deal? I’m here now.”

He shook his head, “It’s just- I thought you had mom and Thea to look after you all this time- and now I find out that you were alone for everything?”

You fell silent, finally seeing what the big deal was for him, “Oh,”

Tears shone in his eyes, “I went through all of it alone- but that doesn’t mean I wanted you to as well.”

“Ollie…” This was the first time since his return that you saw him get so emotionally upset over something.

“Why didn’t you stay with them? Why didn’t they stop you from leaving?” He asked suddenly, “They could’ve taken care of you-“

“Hey.” You cut him off sternly, taking his hand in your own and shaking it firmly to get his attention, “That was all my own decision. And besides, we’re both back now, so it doesn’t matter. We’re alright now.”

In the night the stormy night she'll close her eyes

You laughed loudly as Oliver threw a piece of popcorn at you, “Oh, come on! You know it’s true!”

“It is not.” He scowled playfully.

Thea joined in your amusement, “Oh, it totally is!” She snickered, “You used to be too scared of the dark to sleep alone! I remember- you would always sleep with mom and dad!”

The three of you sat around the couches in the living room, munching on popcorn with a long- forgotten movie playing in the background.

“I did not!” He protested.

“Oh, yes you did, young man.” Moira smiled at the sight of her three children, all playfully bickering with one another as she entered the room.

“Mom!” He complained as yours and Theas cackling grew louder at her admitted statement.

“I’m sorry,” She shrugged, completely unapologetic, “I can only speak to the truth.” She jokingly wagged a finger at Thea, “And don’t you be laughing, young lady, remember what happened during the Christmas party when you were eight?”

Your sister's eyes immediately widened with horror and it was then Oliver’s turn to join in on your laughing.

“Mom!” She shrieked, “That’s not cool! Don’t bring that up!”

“And you,” Moira playfully narrowed her eyes at you, “Need I remind you of your seventeenth birthday fiasco?”

“No! No!” You quickly shook your head back and forth.

Your mother was the only one left laughing after that, but you couldn’t deny that this felt good. Joking around as a family again. All together.

In the night the stormy night away she'd fly

You tiptoed across the hallway towards Oliver’s room as if you were a child again. The two of you used to sneak a candy bar or two up to your rooms during the day and stash them under your pillows for the nighttime and would oftentimes have a mini party with one another while feasting on your treats.

This time though, it was different. There were no more candy parties. No more stifled giggles in the middle of the night. No more childhood.

About a few minutes ago, you had woken up with the feeling that something was off- that something was wrong. It was such a strong feeling that it became practically impossible to ignore. So you found yourself throwing off your covers and creeping to your twin brother's room to try and figure out what was wrong.

As soon as you stepped through the already opened door, you realized what the problem was.

Oliver was sitting on the edge of his bed with his head dropped like a rock into his hands while his elbows rested in his knees. He had a nightmare.

You didn’t know how you knew, it just came to you and there wasn’t a single doubt in your mind that it was what happened.

Wordlessly, you shuffled into the room and sank down onto the mattress beside him.

At first, he tensed up and whipped around to face you, only to relax when he realized that it was just you.

The silence carried on between the two of you for a few minutes before you spoke up in a small whisper, “I used to get nightmares almost everyday after you and dad…” You trailed off and swallowed thickly.

“What did you do about them?” His voice was as soft as yours was. Your brother didn’t even question how you knew.

“Not enough,” You admitted, hugging your knees to your chest, “I let them plague my mind because I didn’t know what else to do about them.”

“What were they about?” You could tell from the sound of his voice that he didn’t want to push, but curiosity had taken over.

“How you- I mean how you could’ve…” You harshly blinked tears away, “Every nightmare would be a different scenario of how you could have died.”

Without another word, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and brought you into a strong, side hug, planting a kiss on the side of your head as you leaned into his chest.

“They stopped, though.” You craned your neck to look up at him with a teary smile, “As soon as you came back. I haven’t had another one since.”

He shook his head softly, “I’m sorry you ever had to go through that.”

“Don’t apologize.” You copied his head shake, “There is absolutely nothing that you need to be sorry for. The ship going down wasn’t your fault.”

Oliver gazed at you with sad eyes, “But I wish it hadn’t happened.”

You let out a small laugh, “Of course,” Small giggles continued to pour out of you, “You can’t actually be glad something like that had happened.”

A smile pulled at the ends of his lips as he turned his head away from you to look out the window, “No, I suppose not.”

Dream of para-para-paradise

“What the hell is all of this?” You asked quietly, turning in a slow circle from where you stood.

“You know what this is.” Oliver called softly from behind you. His arms were crossed over his chest and he looked- dare you say- nervous.

About an hour ago, he had rushed into your room, rambling nonsense about not wanting or being able to lie to you- his twin sister - anymore, and had practically dragged you out of the house and to an old abandoned warehouse that used to belong to your father.

“You’re the vigilante.” You breathed out.

Deep down, you felt as if you had somehow known all along, because now, it all made sense. The obvious secrets, the interaction with the mugger, the difference in, well, everything about him.

“Oliver.” You turned and looked him directly in the eyes, “You have a lot of explaining to do.”

Chaotic Hero’s 🤍- @lovanitu @mukbee @i-writes-things @kiyomi-uchiha777

[seafarersdream]

Heck yeah Freddie Fox!!!!what if reader plays Gwayne and Alicent sister, but their chemistry is sooooo good that the creators had to cut their scenes together because "they're Hightowers, not Targaryens"🤣🤣🤣and the cast are having the time of their lives with that

Me and the Devil (Freddie Fox x Y/N)

Y/N L/N, who stars as Lady Eleanor Hightower, has an absolutely electric chemistry with her on-screen brother, Freddie Fox, who plays Ser Gwayne Hightower, much to the amusement and exasperation of the HOTD cast and crew.

TW // Strong language and profanities, incestuous undertones, sexual tension and innuendos.

The sun was rising behind the walls of the Red Keep, casting long, creeping shadows over the Outer Courtyard. Lady Eleanor Hightower, clad in the deep, grieving olive of her house, stood with an air of weary grace beside her sister, Dowager Queen Alicent. Her face was a picture of calm, though her eyes were heavy with the sorrow of loss and the weight of recent weeks.

“Do you think he’ll bring that dreadful horse again?” Eleanor asked, her voice soft but dripping with that sharp edge she never quite lost, even in mourning.

Alicent’s lips twitched, but she held her composure. "If he does, I’ll have it stabled outside the walls. I’m not having that beast piss all over the courtyard again."

The rumble of hooves on cobblestones drew their attention. The gates opened, and a column of knights in shining armor, bearing the sigil of House Hightower, entered the courtyard. At their head was Ser Gwayne Hightower, his helm tucked under one arm, revealing the tousled auburn hair and devil-may-care grin that Eleanor had grown so used to seeing—when he wasn’t hiding it behind an arrogant smirk.

“Well, well, look who it is. The fairest blooms of Oldtown,” Gwayne drawled, striding over like he owned all Seven Kingdoms. “Alicent, you’re still holding up the realm with that iron fist of yours. And Eleanor…” His eyes trailed over her, lingering just a fraction too long, “Looking every bit the grieving widow. Tell me, how does it feel to be free of that hideous arsehole, late Lord Hastwyck? May the Seven forgive him.”

Eleanor shot him a withering look, but there was a glint of mischief in her eyes. “About as good as it feels to watch you strut around like you haven’t been fucked in months.”

“Oh, fuck off, Ellie,” Freddie retorted, still in character, his grin widening. “Thought all that mourning might’ve taken the edge off your bite, but clearly, I was wrong.”

Eleanor arched an eyebrow, a smirk that could rival his playing on her lips. “And you, brother, seem as full of yourself as ever. Did the trip here inflate your ego even further?”

Gwayne grinned wider, flashing teeth. “Careful, little sister, or I’ll think you missed me.”

Alicent, tired of their verbal sparring, interjected. “Gwayne, you’ve arrived at an important time. Ser Criston Cole has replaced our father as Hand, and there is much work to be done.”

Gwayne’s grin faded into a sneer. “Ser Criston Cole? That jumped-up cunt of a knight? What, are we that desperate, we’re pulling nobodies out of the arse-end of the Kingsguard now?”

The crew, who had been trying to keep it together, finally lost it. Laughter rang out across the courtyard, cameramen shaking their heads as they tried to stay steady.

“Cut! Fucking hell, cut!” Geeta Patel called out, struggling to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She stepped forward, waving her hands as she approached the trio. “Alright, Freddie, Y/N, that was... Jesus Christ, that was incredible. But you’re not Jaime and Cersei Lannister, alright? You’re Hightowers. That kind of sibling chemistry doesn’t fly in this family. Tone down the ‘let’s fuck each other senseless’ vibes, okay?”

Freddie turned to Y/N, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Hear that, darling? We’re too bloody hot for Westeros.”

Geeta rolled her eyes, but she was smiling despite herself. “I swear, you two are going to give me aneurysm. Just... try to remember you’re siblings. No more of that smoldering shit. The Hightowers don’t do what the Targaryens do, alright?”

Freddie put on a mock-serious face, hand over his heart. “I solemnly swear to be the picture of brotherly love. No more dirty looks, no more—“

“Smoldering looks, you tosser,” Y/N corrected, elbowing him in the ribs. “And good luck with that.”

The crew was still giggling, a few members openly impressed. “Honestly, we haven’t seen chemistry like this since Game of Thrones,” one of the grips muttered, shaking his head. “It’s fucking unreal.”

As Geeta returned to her chair, giving notes to the crew, Freddie leaned in closer to Y/N. “Honestly, how are we supposed to act like siblings when you keep giving me those eyes?”

Y/N shot him a sidelong glance. “You mean the same eyes you’re giving me right now? Don’t think I don’t notice.”

Freddie chuckled, his voice low enough that only Y/N could hear. “Well then how about we really give them something to talk about?”

Y/N swatted at him playfully. “Behave yourself, Fox. Or I’ll tell Geeta.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Before Freddie could fire back, Geeta’s voice rang out again. “Alright, enough banter, you two. Places! And for fuck’s sake, remember—you’re Hightowers, not Targaryens or Lannisters!”

Freddie straightened up, slipping back into his role as Ser Gwayne, but not before giving Y/N one last, devilish wink. “For now,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for her to hear.

Y/N fought to keep her expression neutral, but the corners of her mouth twitched with suppressed laughter. She shot him a look that promised retribution later.

As the cameras rolled once more, they slipped effortlessly back into character, their banter sizzling with that same crackling chemistry that had the entire crew both laughing and marveling at just how damn good these two were together—siblings or not.

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On a different day, Geeta Patel was giving final instructions to Olivia Cooke and to Fabien Frankel. “Alright, Olivia, Fabien,” Geeta began, her tone calm. “This scene is all about the farewell. Criston, you’re asking for Alicent’s favor before you leave for war. This is a significant moment between you two. We need it to be subtle, yet powerful. Got it?”

Fabien nodded, his expression serious. “Got it, Geeta.”

Olivia smiled. “Ready when you are.”

Geeta gave them a satisfied nod and turned to the crew. “Okay, everyone, positions! Let’s make this one count.”

As the cameras rolled, Criston Cole approached Alicent with a grave expression, his armor gleaming in the dying light. He bowed low, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “Your Grace,” he began, his tone respectful, yet carrying an undercurrent of something deeper.

Alicent looked at him with those sharp, knowing eyes, giving him a slight nod. “May the Seven guide you, good knight,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “And lead you not to shadow and death.”

Criston bowed his head even lower, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “I thank Your Grace for her prayers,” he replied, his voice filled with reverence.

Alicent turned as if to leave, her gown sweeping the stones with a soft rustle. But before she could take more than a step, Criston’s voice called her back. “And I would request,” he said, his words halting her in her tracks, “that Her Grace grant me her favor. That her Lord Commander may go into battle with her blessings… in his heart.”

The scene hung heavy in the air, the tension thick between them as Criston’s plea echoed through the courtyard. Alicent hesitated, her hand brushing against the delicate fabric of her sleeve as she turned back to him, her eyes locking onto his. There was a moment of silence, a breath suspended in time, as everyone waited to see what she would do.

She finally reached into her sleeve, pulling out the small, delicate handkerchief embroidered with her initials. The camera zoomed in, capturing the intricate details, the way her fingers trembled just slightly as she held it out to him. “Take this,” she murmured, her voice carrying a subtle tremor, “as a token of my favor. Return victorious, Ser Criston. And know that you carry my thoughts with you.”

Criston bowed his head, taking the handkerchief. “Your Grace,” he replied, his voice rough, “I shall return with your favor in my heart and the victory of your cause in my hands.”

The scene was supposed to be the focal point of the episode—an understated farewell between the Dowager Queen and her paramour.

Or at least, that was the plan.

In the background, Eleanor and Gwayne were supposed to be having a far simpler exchange—just a quick farewell between siblings, nothing more.

The moment the camera panned to them, what was meant to be a brief, subdued farewell exploded into something far more dramatic.

“Eleanor, my sweet sister,” Gwayne declared, sweeping her up in an exaggerated embrace, his voice loud enough to carry across the courtyard. “How will I ever endure the horrors of war without your smile to guide me through the darkness?”

Y/N played right into it. She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes shining with fake tears. “Gwayne, you reckless fool, you’d better come back to me—or I swear I’ll hunt you down myself.”

The crew exchanged glances, trying desperately to keep their laughter in check as the two continued to ad-lib their way through what was supposed to be a simple goodbye.

Gwayne placed a hand on Eleanor’s cheek, his expression one of melodramatic intensity. “If I do not return, tell the world I died with your name on my lips.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” someone from the crew muttered, barely audible over the sound of snickering.

Geeta Patel, perched in her director’s chair, pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “Cut! CUT!” she finally called out, though her voice was tinged with reluctant amusement. “Freddie, Y/N, what the bloody hell was that? You’re supposed to be siblings, not star-crossed lovers.”

Freddie turned to Y/N with a grin that could only be described as wicked. “Sorry, Geeta, got a bit carried away there. Can you blame me? Look at her—who wouldn’t fall madly in love?”

Y/N smirked, not missing a beat. “Don’t flatter yourself, Fox. It’s called acting.”

Geeta threw up her hands in defeat. “I swear, you two are the bane of my existence. How am I supposed to get a serious scene out of you when you keep turning everything into a bloody pantomime?”

The crew was struggling to keep it together. Even Olivia, standing nearby as Alicent, was biting her lip, trying to stay in character despite the ridiculousness happening behind her.

Freddie chuckled. “Geeta, darling, I think what we’re doing here is revolutionary.”

Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically, though she was clearly enjoying herself. “What he’s trying to say, Geeta, is that we’re just too damn good together. Maybe it’s time to change the script.”

“Or maybe,” Geeta retorted, her tone playful despite her frustration, “you two could try actually sticking to the script for once. I’m pretty sure HBO isn’t paying you to improvise a Lannister-style farewell.”

Freddie turned to Y/N, pretending to consider it. “What do you think, Eleanor? Should we behave ourselves this time?”

Y/N gave a mock sigh, brushing an imaginary speck of dust off her costume. “I suppose we could try.”

Geeta couldn’t help but shake her head as she gestured for the crew to reset. “Alright, let’s take it from the top. And this time, keep it in your pants, Hightower freaks.”

Cameras rolled once more, the scene resumed, with Criston and Alicent taking center stage as intended from the start.

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The camera opens on a sleek, modern studio set, the familiar logo of Max glowing softly in the background. Y/N and Freddie are seated side by side, relaxed and comfortable, both dressed casually but stylishly—Y/N in a chic blouse and jeans, Freddie in his usual mix of sharp yet slightly rumpled attire.

The interviewer, a young woman with a cheerful demeanor, smiled warmly at them. “Thank you both for joining us today. Why don’t we start with some introductions?”

“Hello, everyone! I’m Y/N L/N, and I play Lady Eleanor Hightower on House of the Dragon,” Y/N says, her voice smooth and confident as she introduces herself.

Freddie chimes in right after. “And I’m Freddie Fox, and I play Ser Gwayne Hightower, Eleanor’s incredibly charming, dashingly handsome older brother.”

Y/N snorts, nudging him with her elbow. “You forgot modest, Freddie. Always so modest.”

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying their banter. “It’s great to have you both here. So, as you know, House of the Dragon has a massive fandom, and one of the things they love to do is theorize and create ships outside of the canon. They really get invested in the chemistry between characters—and, let’s be honest, between the actors as well.”

Freddie and Y/N exchange a look, both trying to suppress knowing smiles.

The interviewer continues with a mischievous glint in her eye. “So, naturally, people are starting to wonder—could we be seeing the next Kit Harington and Rose Leslie? You know, screen partners turning into real-life partners?”

Freddie, never one to miss an opportunity for a bit of fun, suddenly turned in his seat, getting down on one knee in front of Y/N. With an exaggeratedly serious expression, he took her hand. “Y/N, dearest Lady Eleanor, would you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife? I promise to annoy you, to steal your snacks, and to outshine you in every single scene we ever do together.”

Y/N bursts out laughing, placing a hand over her heart as if genuinely touched. “Oh, Freddie, how could I ever say no to such a heartfelt proposal? But I must warn you—I take up all the covers at night, and I’m not above hiding the remote if you try to switch to football during one of our movie nights.”

The interviewer is cracking up now, along with the crew behind the cameras. “I didn’t expect this, but I’m loving it! You two are absolutely priceless.”

Freddie stood up, still holding Y/N’s hand, and they both gave a bow to the camera. “Well, you know," he says, turning back to the interviewer, “it’s all about keeping the fans on their toes. Can’t make it too easy for them to figure out what’s going on, right?”

Y/N grins. “Exactly. We like to keep things... interesting.”

The interviewer, still grinning, leans in. “So, should we start planning the wedding, or...?”

Freddie looked thoughtfully at Y/N, tapping his chin. “Well, we’re thinking of something small. Just us, a couple of dragons, and maybe a White Walker to officiate. Keep it intimate, you know?”

Y/N nodded sagely. “Very exclusive. Only the crème de la crème of Westeros.”

The interviewer shakes her head, thoroughly entertained. “Okay, okay, I think we’ve just given the fandom even more fuel for their theories! On a serious note, though, it’s clear you two have incredible chemistry. What’s it like working together on set?”

Y/N smiled warmly at Freddie before answering. “Honestly, it’s a blast. Freddie and I just click, and I think that shows on screen. We’ve got a great rapport, and it’s always fun bringing these characters to life together.”

Freddie nodded, adding, “Yeah, we give each other a lot of shit, but that’s part of what makes it work. We trust each other, and that allows us to really push the boundaries in our scenes—sometimes a bit too much, according to Geeta,” he added with a wink.

The interviewer wraps it up, still chuckling. “Well, it’s been an absolute blast talking with you both. Can’t wait to see what chaos you bring to House of the Dragon next season.”

As the camera pulls back and the lights dim, Freddie and Y/N share a quick, conspiratorial glance, knowing they’d just given the fandom more than enough to talk about—and probably a few new fanfics to write as well.

When the interview dropped on the internet, the fandom absolutely exploded. Social media was flooded with clips of Freddie’s mock proposal, and the internet lost its collective mind.

Fans were dissecting every moment of the interview, from the playful banter to the way Freddie had gazed up at Y/N during his over-the-top proposal. The comments sections were filled with fans declaring that they were “shipping” the two even harder now, some even demanding that someone should cast them both in a romcom.

Amid the chaos, Y/N decided to fan the flames a bit more. She posted a cheeky selfie on Instagram, looking effortlessly stunning as always, with a caption that read, “The coolest of the Hightower siblings.”

It didn’t take long for Freddie to jump in on the fun. He reposted her selfie to his own Instagram story, adding the caption, “THE future Mrs. Fox.”

The internet went into overdrive. Fans were tagging each other, sharing screenshots, and even their House of the Dragon co-stars started chiming in with their own comments, playing along with the joke. The whole thing had taken on a life of its own, and it was clear that Y/N and Freddie had become the fandom’s favorite new obsession.

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During a press event, when Rhys Ifans, the man behind Otto Hightower, was asked about his thoughts on Freddie and Y/N’s antics, his face split into a wide, unabashed grin.

“Well, as Otto,” he began, dropping into character with a serious tone, “I have to say, it’s a major fucking ick. Completely inappropriate! Gwayne and Eleanor getting all... cozy? That would make Otto want to strangle someone. He’d be straight to the quill, penning some strongly worded letters to sort that shit out.”

The crowd erupted in laughter, knowing exactly how Otto Hightower would react to such scandal.

“But as Rhys?” he continued, his tone shifting to one of genuine enthusiasm, “I’m all in! I mean, have you seen those two together? The chemistry is off the bloody charts! If they don’t end up getting married after all this, I’ll be sorely disappointed. They’re perfect for each other—on and off the screen.”

His lighthearted comment sent the room into a ripple of laughter, with everyone loving the idea of Rhys being a secret shipper of Freddie and Y/N.

Within hours, his quote—“Ick as Otto, but fuck yes as Rhys!”—became the battle cry of the fandom, plastered across memes, gifs, and fan art that flooded every corner of the internet. It wasn't just spreading; it was detonating.

The whole situation exploded into a full-blown phenomenon, with fans practically canonizing Rhys as the unofficial president of the Freddie and Y/N ship. People started tagging him in everything, from wild fan theories to NSFW fanfiction, with captions like “Rhys would approve” or “Otto hates it, but Rhys lives for it.”

It was unhinged, chaotic, and utterly glorious. Rhys’s endorsement didn’t just add fuel to the fire; it threw in a grenade, making the whole thing go nuclear.

[elaratyrell]

Poor Unfortunate Souls {Part 1/3 -> Part Of Your World}

*All images found on Pinterest. Moodboard made by yours truly*

Dark! Ursula! Aemond x Fem! Eric! Reader x Ariel! Jacaerys

Warnings: Nothing in this chapter.. reader almost drowns but is saved. Daemon’s an asshole. *Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Synopsis: Jacaerys Velaryon, the reluctant heir to Atlantica. The moment he saw you, he knew he would never see someone who could capture him with their beauty again. You would haunt him eternally. In a desperate attempt to meet you, he turns to Aemond Targaryen, an outcast from the merfolk, to help him walk amongst the land dwellers. But when Aemond lays his eyes on you, he knows he has to have you. By any means necessary.

Part Two Jace's Ending Aemond's Ending

Jacaerys Velaryon. The son of Queen Rhaenyra and the heir to the underwater kingdom of Atlantica, the home of the merfolk. An adventurous young merman, he was often found exploring sunken shipwrecks or the deepest sea caverns in search of treasures and trinkets…

Even when he was supposed to be attending his royal duties.

He couldn’t help it. He knew his mother wanted him to step up as her heir and become the prince he needed to be for his people, but he knew he wasn’t the prince they wanted. He wasn’t the prince they needed. He lacked the drive and ambition for ruling as king. He wasn’t interested in politics, or ruling over the merfolk.

In fact, he often felt conflicted between two worlds.

His home, the ocean, was where his family and his people were. And even though his four younger brothers and two sisters often drove him insane, he loved them dearly. And he loved his mother… his stepfather, Daemon, on the other hand, he barely even tolerated. He disliked how much of an influence he had over his mother, and how much power he held in the kingdom.

The other half of him, however, wished to be above the surface of the waves, where he could feel the full warmth of the sun, the softness of the sand on the shore and the cooling sea breeze…

He wanted to be where the people were.

Out of the water and living among them.

He knew it was outlawed to travel to the surface after his father, Harwin, was murdered by humans. He was incredibly young, barely over five years old, and his brothers Lucerys and Joffrey were too young to even remember, but that didn’t stop him from sneaking off to watch them from a distance. And besides, he was certain the kingdom was so against humans because Daemon seemed to loathe them, often spreading his rather false horror stories over humans and their prejudices against merfolk. There were even whispers of him trying to convince Rhaenyra to go to war with the surface world. Jacaerys disapproved of this, but knew his mother was wiser than that.

And while Jace certainly resented the humans who murdered his father, he knew not all humans were that cruel, just as not all merfolk were like Daemon. He still found himself greatly intrigued by the surface dwellers. Whether they were sailing on their great ships, or frolicking on the beach, or dancing… he wanted to try dancing…

But he knew he could never trade his tail for legs.

And so he spent his days exploring with his companion since birth, a fish with glittering olive green scales and bright orange fins called Vermax, eagerly taking any trinket or human object he could find at the bottom of the seabed or in a long abandoned shipwreck.He would take it to the surface to have it inspected by a seagull, Cannibal, before taking it to his secret grotto, a deep sea cavern where he stored his treasures.

He was often scolded by his mother for forgetting his duties, often arriving late or failing to show up at all sometimes, just like earlier in the week, when he failed to show up to a royal concert when he and Vermax had an unfortunate encounter with a shark while exploring a shipwreck. He had completely forgotten about the concert, going to Cannibal about the two interesting objects he’d found to add to his collection. When he had returned to rather sheepishly apologise to his mother, he had both her and Daemon lecturing him over duty and his careless and reckless behaviour whenever he opened his mouth to try.

It had even gotten to the point where Rhaenyra was now sending Syrax, her golden crab companion, to watch him and make sure he wasn’t getting into trouble, reporting back to her over whether he’d been to the surface. Jace had visited the surface world far less frequently as a result, only managing to do so when he out swam the crustacean. It wouldn’t surprise him if she sent his younger brother Lucerys or his uncle Aegon after him next. Or, heaven forbid, one of his sisters.

It was after one such scolding that Jacaerys found himself at his grotto, admiring his growing collection and daydreaming about being among the people on land. Being where he could walk, run, dance… where he could ask them the thousands of burning questions he had… where he could stay all day in the sun.

Where he could be part of their world.

He smiled to himself at the thought of walking on two legs, but found that fading into a disappointing frown as he looked down to see his tale, scales glittering scarlet and ebony in the fading sunlight.

Everyone assumed he had everything anyone could ever need in life. But he didn’t. He felt torn, ad though he didn’t belong under the ocean, but above the surface.

He wanted more than this.

He let out a soft exhale of disappointment, allowing himself to float down to the bottom of the cavern and landing on a slab of rock jutting out from the stone floor.

“I just wish to be part of that world, Vermax. Up there. All these treasures I have… they’re neat. And it seems as though I have everything… but it’s not enough. I want to live among them. I have everything I could ever need, and yet I want more…” He murmured, too caught up in his own thoughts to notice the stone entrance to his grotto sliding open.

A low whistle of mild impressment did, however, catch his attention, followed by a amused voice.

“Mother’s going to kill you.”

Lucerys was leaning against the closed entrance to the grotto, his arms crossed. Both Velaryon boys were rather similar, with dark curls and deep brown eyes. But Lucerys’ hair was shorter, and a slightly darker brown, and he had more black scales than Jacaerys, whose tail was mostly red, like their mother.

Jacaerys shot up, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Luke-“

“What is all of this stuff?” Luke asked, looking around the grotto rather amusedly.

“It’s… it’s just my… collection…”

“Impressive. I always wondered what you were doing when you constantly snuck away,” He mused. “But like I said, if mother finds out about this, you’re dead. She’s worried about you, always obsessing over the surface world and neglecting your duties...”

Jace rolled his eyes at his younger brother. Above him he heard a distant booming noise. Glancing up through the hole in the cavern roof where the surface of the water was visible, he saw a thousand colours light up the sky in a flurry of sparks and fizzing. He ignored his brother’s continued chattering, transfixed on whatever was happening in the world above.

“I told her that you were either crazy, or this is a just phase…”

“What do you suppose…?” Jacaerys muttered to himself, ignoring his brother’s teasing antics and swimming up to where the noise and bright flashing colours were coming from.

“But I didn’t realise you were this obsessed- where are you going? Jace! You can’t go up there! Humans are trouble! Mother said so!” Luke called after his brother, but he was already gone, Vermax hurrying after him. Luke glanced over at where Syrax was perched on a nearby ledge.

“So… should you follow him or should I?” He asked.

Syrax, realising Luke didn’t want to be the one to do so, hopped off the ledge and hurried after the older prince, who had now reached the water’s surface.

Jace gazed up in sheer awe at the great ship sailing towards him, the illuminating the night sky in a flurry of sparks in the most vibrant shades of scarlet, blue, emerald and gold. The sails billowed in the ocean winds, the largest of which was imprinted with what Jace could only assume was a royal sigil.

As Jace moved to get closer to the ship, he let out a yelp, feeling a sharp a pinch on his arm, Looking down to the culprit, he flicked Syrax off him and rubbed his arm, the skin slightly reddened from where the crab pinched him.

Diving back beneath the waves to move closer to the ship, Vermax hot on his tail. When he reached the great vessel, Jacaerys hoisted himself up and managed to climb up the side of the ship. He knew it was a risky move. If he was caught by the sailors, he would be captured or even killed. If was caught by his mother or Daemon… it might be even worse. But his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

He kept hidden in the shadows, peering through a gap on the side of the boat. There was cheering, dancing, drinking and singing, a celebration of sorts, and it somewhat relieved Jace that the sailors were probably too occupied with the festivities to notice him.

A sweet melody filled Jace’s ears as the sailors danced. A flute, he believed, was playing. He remembered reading about them in an old book he’d recovered from a shipwreck. He’d always imagined how their tune sounded, and he wasn’t disappointed.

He wasn’t sure what was being celebrated, but it seemed to be a most joyous occasion. Everyone seemed in the highest of moods and the most joyful of spirits. It was wonderful to see this side of the surface dwellers, and he couldn’t look away.

In fact, he was so entranced by the humans that he found himself jumping back in shock as a rather strange and hairy creature, a dog he believed came bounding over to him. He had read about them but had never seen them in person before, but it seemed friendly enough, sniffing him with interest and wagging its tail.

Jace smiled, rather tentatively reaching out to the animal, only to shrink back into the shadows as a female voice called out to the creature.

“Max! Here boy!”

Jace cautiously peered back around, his eyes widening as he laid eyes on who might possibly be the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

You.

He watched as Max eagerly bounded over to you, jumping up to lick your face in greeting. You laughed, gently pushing the dog away from you slightly and patting his head.

“Down boy. Good boy. C’mon what’s got you so excited?” You smiled, looking over in Jace’s direction and causing him to duck back into the darkness again. His cheeks were flushed pink, his mouth slightly agape. He knew if Luke were here, he would never hear the end of it. But after having seen numerous paintings and drawings of human women in books he’d found, as well as meeting with countless potential matches organised by his mother, be found that none of them, even the most notoriously beautiful mermaids, compared to you.

He found himself peering back around to admire you once again as you sat down with Max, rubbing the dog’s stomach and watching the ongoing celebrations. You were dressed rather simply in a white linen shirt with the top two buttons undone and a pair of blue breeches, a pair of black knee high leather boots on your feet. Your hair was down and loose, fluttering in the nightly see breeze.

You were absolutely beautiful.

A sudden loud screech to Jace’s side caused him to reluctantly tear his gaze away from you, sending the culprit a nasty glare.

“Quiet, Cannibal.” He hissed, not wanting to draw attention to his hiding place. Cannibal edged closer to Jace, seemingly wanting to see what- or who- had caught the young prince’s attention. When the bird laid eyes on you, he let out an even louder screech that sounded a little like a squawk of amusement, only to have Jace grab him by the beak to shut him up.

“I said quiet.” He shot the gull another glare before returning his focus to you. “I’ve never seen a human up this close before.” He breathed as he watched you play a small, cheerful melody on a flute, the flute he must have been hearing earlier, Max running around in circles around you as you twirled around, the both of you almost dancing together to the tune.

“She… she’s very beautiful…” He murmured, shooting yet another glare to the bird as he let out a slight muffled wheeze through his closed beak. Jace followed Cannibal’s gaze to where Max continued to dance around you. “No, not that thing.” He muttered, using the hand wrapped around Cannibal’s beak to move the bird’s head upwards to look at you. “The human.”

“Silence! Silence!” A man suddenly announced, his arms outstretched as he stood in the centre of the deck. “It is now my deepest honour and privilege to present our esteemed Princess Y/N with her birthday gift.”

“Y/N…” Jacaerys murmured dreamily, watching you step forward with a chorus of cheers from the crowd onboard. “Princess Y/N…”

The man stepped to the side to present a large object concealed by sapphire blue cloth and tied with a scarlet ribbon. “Happy birthday, Y/N.” He smiled, and with one tug on the ribbon, the cloth fell to reveal… a statue of you.

You were dressed in an extravagant gown, your arm raised in the air, your gleaming sword pointed towards the sky. Your expression was not warm as it was in reality, but one of hardened steel.

It was a warrior’s statue.

Jace tilted his head, his brows furrowing. The statue captured your beauty, that much was certain, but there was something missing from it. Maybe it was lacking your smile that sent a swarm of butterflies to erupt in his stomach, or the sparkle in your eyes. Whatever it was… it made the statue seem… unlike you.

“Wow… Grimsby you shouldn’t have.” Your voice sounded rather exasperated. “It’s… truly something to behold.”

Jace smiled. He could tell you were struggling to muster a compliment, but didn’t want to seem ungrateful.

“You like it?”

“It’s… really something…” You muttered, staring up at the statue, your lips pressed into a thin line and your eyes crinkled at the edges as you winced slightly, looking physically in pain at the sight of the gift. “Although it seems rather-“

“I commissioned it myself,” Grimsby declared rather proudly, his hand placed over his heart and making you immediately close your mouth. “Although… I had hoped it would be a wedding gift…”

“Oh don’t start, Grimsby,” You groaned, turning away from him and leaning on the side of the boat, just above where Jacaerys was hiding. “Are you really still sore that I rejected the proposal from that Dornish prince?”

“It isn’t just me, Y/N,” Grimsby sighed, stepping forward. “Your parents, the entire kingdom wishes for you to happily settle down with the right man-“

“Exactly, Grimsby! I need to find the right man,” You argued, sitting down on the side of the ship with one hand holding the rigging of the boat to prevent yourself from falling. “I know he’s out there somewhere. But I don’t want to marry for duty. I’ve always devoted myself to that. I want to marry for love. I want to find someone who… who has the same ambitions as me. Who… wants to see the world and sees past the fact I’m a princess. Someone who understands what it’s like to yearn to be out there exploring the world. Someone who understands freedom, and who wants to break free… and who understands that a part of me belongs out there in that world. Out there in the seas.”

Jace’s expression brightened at your words, his heart fluttering in his chest at you possibly sharing similar struggles to him.

It was like you were too good to be true.

That could be him… he could be that man for you…

“I’ll find him one day. He’s out there somewhere I… I just haven’t found him yet.”

“Well, perhaps you haven’t been looking hard enough.”

“Not helpful, Grimsby.” You grumbled, rising to your feet and looking out at the ocean, as black as the clouds brewing overhead. “Believe me, when I find him, I’ll know. Without a doubt.” Your words were firm, your expression one of clear resolve. “When I see him, it’ll… it’ll just hit me like… like lightning!”

No sooner did those words leave your mouth, you and Jace looked up as the deep growl of thunder rumbled overhead, a flash of lightning lighting up the sky.

“Hurricane!” A sailor yelled. “Stand fast! Secure the rigging!”

You immediately sprung into action, leaning forward to pull on the ropes as the waves lapped against the ship more aggressively than before, the wind whipping through your hair and rain beginning to pelt down from the sky as though the heavens themself were opening.

Jace grabbed ahold of the ship, failing to grab Cannibal as the gull was blown away by the wind torrents with a loud screech of protest. While the others focused on untying the lifeboats, Jace watched as you leaped up the stairs two at a time to reach the steering wheel of the ship that was spinning out of control, trying to stop the ship from capsizing into the water. A large surge of water passed over the ship, drenching you completely and those onboard.

Despite gripping onto the ship as tightly as he could, Jace soon found himself falling back into the water, barrels, crates and even the sailors following him beneath the surface. He swam upwards as quick as his tail could move, breaking through the surface to see a jagged flash of lightning hit the main sail of the ship.

Flames blazed through your royal seal emblazoned on the sail, burning through the cloth and spreading to the mast of the ship.

Jace gasped as he saw the ship uncontrollably heading towards a cluster of jagged rocks jutting out from the sea, you still at the wheel struggling to gain control of the ship. He wanted to scream at you, to climb onto the boat and help you steer the ship to safety, or to just grab you and get you off the ship, but he knew he couldn’t. He watched with a horrified expression as the ship rammed against the rocks, throwing more sailors and cargo, including you and the statue, overboard and into the depths below. The mast snapped, falling forwards and spreading the fire to the rest of the ship.

Jacaerys swam forward to see you help Grimsby onto the lifeboat to join several other of your crew mates. He felt a small sigh of relief to see you safe as you hauled yourself into the small boat, but it the feeling was short lived as you frantically looked around the small cluster of life boats, your gaze ultimately returning to the raging inferno consuming the ship.

“Max!”

No, no, no, no.

You couldn’t go back.

Jace couldn’t watch you do that.

To risk your life and possibly lose it.

He followed you as you swam back to the burning ship, hauling yourself back onboard to save your beloved dog.

“Jump, Max! Come on, you can do it. Come on, boy, just jump!” You desperately cried out to the animal, unable to move further forward thanks to the flames and the collapsed mast.

Jace squinted, trying to see you through the billowing smoke, his breath caught in his throat. As he saw your silhouette emerge through the smoke, he released the breath he was holding, but it got caught in his throat as your foot suddenly fell through the deck and out of his sight.

Max fell off the boat and into the sea where he was pulled onto the lifeboat by the surviving sailors, who cried out to you as you desperately tried to free yourself from where your foot was stuck, the flames flickering higher and higher around you, the smoke filling your lungs and choking you from any oxygen.

You managed to loosen your foot enough to pull it out of your boot as the inferno raged on, but it proved feeble as a barrel of gunpowder rolled past you and into the flames. As soon as the ship exploded, Jacaerys surged forward to where the ship wreckage was sinking beneath the waves, frantically looking around for any sight of you, the flames providing enough light for him to see clearly. Upon seeing no sight of you, he rose back to the surface. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you, unconscious, balanced on a plank of wood from the deck. No sooner did he see you, the violent waves caused you to slip from the plank and under the water.

As you sank deeper and deeper, Jacaerys swam after you, managing to grab ahold of you and heading in the direction of the shore. He made sure to keep your head above the water so you could hopefully breathe, not even caring whether you were dead or alive at that moment. He just needed to get you to safety.

His arms ache as he finally reached the shallows, struggling to drag both you and himself onto the beach. He cradled you in his arms, his chestnut eyes scanning your form for any sign of life. For any slight twitch, any movement, any breath. Yet your eyes remained closed, your skin pale and your mouth slightly agape.

“Is she… dead?” The word almost got caught in Jacaerys’ throat as he turned to where Cannibal landed beside them on rather shaky legs.

Please don’t be dead… please don’t be dead…

“She… she can’t be dead…” Jace murmured, a finger gently opening one of your eyes. Upon seeing them up close, he realised how beautiful your eyes were. Cannibal hopped between you and Jace, pressing his head against your foot, letting out a small, sorrowful caw.

“Wait… wait look! She’s breathing!” Jace exclaimed as you let out a small exhale, your chest beginning to gently rose and fell. He sent a small disapproving look to Cannibal. “You know that’s not where they breathe, right?” He muttered as Cannibal leaped the air and landed on a nearby rock.

Jace rolled his eyes, looking back to where your breaths were becoming less shallow and more even. “She’s so beautiful…” He whispered as he looked down at you. Your clothes were torn, and one of your boots was gone, your dripping wet hair plastered over your forehead. Jace reached over to gently brush it away from your face.

As his hand moved to gently caress your cheek, he found himself humming a small tune his mother used to sing to him at night. It was an old tune from generations long since passed, sung in an ancient language that was no longer spoken by merfolk other than the royal family, although Jace’s was a little rusty at best after missing so many lessons. It was a lullaby that always soothed him after a night terror when he was young.

His humming soon evolved into him softly singing the song, and a smile spread onto his face as he saw your eyelids flutter and open ever so slightly, your soft, small hand reaching up to place over his. When your hand made contact with his, Jace felt his heartbeat quicken, his skin feeling as though it were on fire from your touch.

A loud bark made him flinch back away from you, spotting Grimsby and Max on the horizon. He dived into the water as the dog bounded over to you, eagerly greeting you by slobbering on your face as you slowly sat up, one hand- the hand that touched Jace’s- resting on the side of your head as you groggily looked around.

“Y/N! Oh thank goodness,” Grimsby breathed in relief, his hand reaching into his pocket and taking out his slightly damp handkerchief, which he used to dab his clammy forehead. “You really delight in these sadistic strains on my blood pressure, don’t you?” He muttered, leaning down to help the princess to her feet. “Are you alright, my dear?”

“I… I saw… a boy. He… he rescued me…” You muttered, one hand still clutching your head as you regained your balance. “He was singing to me. He had the most beautiful voice…” You trailed off, swaying slightly.

”Oh, Y/N,” Grimsby sighed. “I think you’ve swallowed a bit too much seawater.”

“No, I saw him.” She protested, looking out at the shore. “I heard him.”

“Of course you did, my dear,” Grimsby sighed, wrapping an arm over the girl’s shoulders. “Come on. Off we go. Come along, Max- Max! What is that dog barking at now?”

“Max!” You called out, followed by a sharp whistle that got the dog’s attention from where he was barking in Jace’s direction, the prince hiding behind a rock.

As you, Grimsby and Max left the small beach and headed towards your castle, Jace watched you go, Cannibal perched on the rock in front him.

“I don’t know when, I don’t know how… but watch and you’ll see, someday I’ll be part of that world. I know I will be!” He declared to his feathered companion, a steely determination set in those deep brown eyes of his. “No matter what it takes.”

A short distance away, Jacaerys was being watched by an ancient beast. A large, bronze eel, one eye a glittering green and the other glowing a vibrant sapphire blue. She watched him silently for a moment before dipping beneath the surface to return to her master.

It was only a matter of time before the young prince sought him out.

“You summoned me, mother?”

Queen Rhaenyra smiled fondly at her second born son as perched regally on her throne, her golden trident, the source of her power passed down from her father, resting beside her.

“Yes, Lucerys. I wished to ask you about your brother.”

“J-Jacaerys?” Luke stammered.

“Yes. I tasked you with watching over him but you have yet to report back to me. Your sisters have noticed certain things…”

“O-oh?”

“Apparently he’s to himself, daydreaming even more than usual, not swimming to sunken shipwrecks looking for trouble… it’s almost as though something has consumed his mind completely.”

“Well… he seems normal to me mother.” Lucerys chuckled nervously, making Rhaenyra raise an eyebrow.

“Rhaena and Baela said he swam past them in very high spirits this morning, putting flowers in their hair and singing to himself.”

“Well… well I-“

“Lucerys, I know you’re keeping something from me, sweet one.”

“Ke-keeping something, mother? I would never.”

“Really? Because Rhaena and Baela told me something else rather interesting.”

“They… they did?”

“About Jacaerys… his mood. His high spirits and his daydreaming. It’s as though he’s come alive. I’ve seen the signs before, both in myself and others.”

“You… have seen what?” Luke visibly gulped as Rhaenyra beckoned him closer.

“Isn’t it obvious? Jacaerys is in love, is he not? Or at least infatuated?”

“I… I don’t know mother-“

“Come now, Luke. I understand that you and Jace are at that age where you don’t feel the need to tell me everything, but this is important…”

Luke felt face flush slightly. If Rhaenyra found out, she’d be furious. But what would be worse is if Jace got captured, or killed.

“Mother… I do not know-“

“I only wish to know who the lucky mermaid is…”

“Mother-“

“Or merman perhaps? He is rather good friends with Cregan of the Arctic waters, is he not?”

“I- I wouldn’t know, I-“

“Unless you simply do not wish to fulfil the task I have given you and have been neglecting your duty-“

“I tried to stop him mother!” Lucerys suddenly exclaimed, making Rhaenyra raise her eyebrows in slight surprise at her son’s outburst.

“Stop him? From what?” Rhaenyra’s expression changed from one of mild amusement to immediate concern.

“I tried to stop him from doing it but he never listens to me. Just because he’s older, he thinks he can swim to the surface even though I warned him about the humans-“

“Humans? What about humans?” Rhaenyra demanded, gripping her trident harshly and making Luke stop in his tracks.

“Hu-humans? Why mother, who said anything about humans?” He chuckled, glancing away from his mother.

“Luke…” Rhaenyra warned, rising from her throne. “What has your brother been doing? Tell me. Now.”

“I… I don’t know what happened mother. He saw these flames in the sky and he followed them to the surface. I tried to stop him, I promise I did. When he returned the next morning he was a completely different person. Happier. And yet somehow more annoying-“

“Luke…”

“Anyway,” Lucerys cleared his throat. “I asked him what happened and… and…”

“And what? And what, Luke?”

“He said he’d saved… a human…” Lucerys muttered. “A princess.”

“He saved a human? Those murderous savages.” A voice spoke from the shadows.

Lucerys felt his heart sink as he realised he’d failed to notice Daemon’s presence, too focused on trying to protect his brother’s secret from their mother.

“I…” For once, Lucerys had found himself at a loss for words.

“I think that’s everything we need Lucerys… you may leave.” Daemon ordered, but Lucerys stood his ground.

“No. I want to know what you’ll do-“

“Luke, go to your chambers.”

“But, mother-“

“Lucerys. Go.” The sternness of Rhaenyra’s words and the fire within her eyes made Lucerys reluctantly comply, swimming off with his heart sinking at what he’d done.

“Humans? Love? He’s going to get himself killed.” Rhaenyra sighed, looking over at her husband. “What do you suggest I do?”

“The only way we can save Jacaerys is if we rid him of these absurd thoughts. We need to act quickly.”

“I do not want to push him away more than I already have.” Rhaenyra said as Daemon swam over to her, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“If we don’t act now, you’ll lose him to the surface. You of all people know what they do to our kind. He’s your heir, Rhaenyra. Your first born son. To protect him, we may need to hurt him.”

“But, Daemon-“

“Do you want him to resort to extreme solutions like your brother did? Do you want him to suffer that same fate as Aemond? Or turn to him for a solution?”

“Jacaerys isn’t like Aemond in any way. He is not cruel, or cunning like him. He would never seek him out. He knows better.”

“For now.” Daemon replied. “But love can cloud and deceive the mind in ways that can make the greatest of men fall.”

“Vermax, what’s going on?” Jace asked as the small fish attempted to herd him in the direction of the grotto. Jace rolled the stone away, moving forward to enter, but his companion stopped him in his tracks, swimming right up go his face and turning, flicking his tail into Jace’s eyes.

“Ouch! Vermax,” Jace rubbed his eyes, wincing slightly at the small sting. “Okay, it’s that important of a surprise.” He sighed, complying with Vermax’s wishes. “If you wanted me to close my eyes you could just ask nicely.” He muttered, feeling himself being gently nudged slowly into the grotto, his arms held out in front of him in case Vermax decided to steer him into a wall. Again.

Jace had been in his grotto so many times he knew where he was when Vermax moved in front of him again, this time flicking him on the hand to stop him in his tracks.

“Really? Again?” Jace sighed. “At least it was more gentle that time.” He muttered. Vermax nudged his hand, and Jace opened his eyes, letting out a small gasp at the sight in front of him.

There, placed in the centre of his grotto, the new centrepiece of his treasure collection… was your statue. He turned to the small fish, a wide smile growing on his face.

“You’re the best, Vermax,” He grinned, swimming over to the statue. “It’s perfect. How… how did you find this- how did you get this in here?” He asked. “Nevermind, I know I’ll never find out. Oh gods, it’s perfect- she’s perfect. It looks just like her- well, her eyes have more sparkle in real life, and they’re kinder too…”

He swam circles around the statue, analysing every angle. “It really is a work of art,” He murmured, a hand reaching up again to rest on the statue’s stone cold cheek. “If only it were real. Then we could run away from all our troubles… and find a place where we can belong. Don’t you think that would be the best thing, Verm-“ As he turned to address his closest friend, he was instead greeted by the face of his mother. A face that was half concealed by shadows and that was twisted in both sorrow and fury.

“M-mother. I can explain-“

“I think everything is quite clear to me, Jacaerys,” Rhaenyra interrupted, swimming out of the shadows, golden trident glinting in the fading light. Jace felt himself wince at the harshness of her tone when she spoke his full name.

“I consider myself a reasonable mermaid. A reasonable queen. And a reasonable mother,” She continued, her voice although soft in volume, was also cold in time. “I set certain rules to protect my people. To protect you. And I expect those rules to be followed.”

”But, mother, it’s not what you thi-“

“Is it true you rescued a human from drowning?” She demanded. Jace felt his mouth dry up. She knew? Luke… or Syrax, somehow?

“I… I had to. She… she would have died…”

“Contact between the human and mer worlds is strictly forbidden. You know this, everyone knows this. And I thought you of all people should understand this.”

“She would have died mother!”

“And that would only be one less human to worry about,” Daemon spoke up, emerging from the shadows behind Rhaenyra.

“You don’t even know her!” Jace protested, placing himself in front of your statue, as though he was protecting you.

“Know her?” Daemon let out a mocking laugh. “We don’t need to know her.” He snarled. “Humans, they’re all the same. Spineless, savage, harpoon, fish- eaters who are incapable of any feeling-”

“I love her.” Jacaerys blurted out, stopping Daemon in his tracks and making Rhaenyra’s expression morph into one of horror.

“No…” She breathed. “No, Jacaerys it… it cannot be true… have… have you lost your senses completely? You haven’t even met her! She’s human.”

“And you’re a merman.” Daemon sneered.

“I don’t care.” Jace retorted defiantly. “I’ll find a way.”

“Jacaerys, so help me, please do not escalate this.” Rhaenyra warned.

“Escalate it? What can you do mother? I’m not a child anymore!”

“We clearly aren’t getting through to him,” Daemon said. “You know what you have to do, Rhaenyra.”

“W-what’s he talking about, mother?” Jace asked, backing up so he was blocking the statue completely, a weary edge to his tone.

“I need to get through to you Jace,” Rhaenyra’s voice was solemn. “And if this is the only way…” She looked away from her son, raising her arm so the trident was pointing to an upper shelf of the grotto. “…So be it.”

“Mother, don’t!” Jace exclaimed, the realisation finally dawning on him. But it was too late. The trident was now glowing with lightning and flames, casting the grotto in a harsh orange light. Beams shot from the trident, perfectly landing on their targets.

His entire book collection? Gone.

His paintings, his jewellery collection, his candlesticks and compass? Reduced to dust.

Everything, from his gadgets and gizmos to his whozits and whatzits, were completely destroyed.

“Mother, mother please stop,” Jacaerys pleaded, desperately grabbing onto Rhaenyra’s arm, his eyes glassed over with tears threatening to spill at any moment.

But he wasn’t going to give Daemon the satisfaction of letting them fall.

“Mother- mother no, please no!” He yelled, following her gaze to where she aimed the trident at your statue, reducing it to rubble mere seconds later.

Jace let go of his mother, letting himself float to the grotto floor in front of where your statue was standing so proudly moments ago.

Rhaenyra, tore her gaze away from her eldest son, quickly swimming away from the irreparable damage she’d caused, both to herself and Jace. She too didn’t want to let the cracks show. Daemon stayed where he was, admiring the destruction of the treasures created by the beings he despised so.

“If you truly loved the humans, Jacaerys, if you truly wanted to be where you belong, you should go to them,” He said coldly, cruelly. “Because you certainly don’t belong here.”

As Daemon swam from the grotto, followed by his companion, a blood red moray eel called Caraxes, Jace finally let the tears spill, his chest heaving with the sobs that racked through his body.

“Jace…”

“Go away.”

“Jace, I’m sorry-“

“Sorry? Sorry that she destroyed everything?” Jace exclaimed, turning to glare at his younger brother. “Look what she did Luke. Look what Daemon made her do.” He turned away again as his voice cracked, another wave of realisation hitting him that his pride and joy, his wonderful collection that had taken him years to put together, was gone.

And your statue along with it.

“Jace, I didn’t know this was going to happen. I thought you might get in trouble and-“

“Just go away,” He whispered.

Luke hung his head low, reluctantly leaving his brother alone and joining Syrax, Vermax and Arrax, an infant ray who shimmered a pearl white, with the exception of his golden underside and eyes to match. Like Vermax, he was not yet fully grown.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do. I can’t leave him, and… I hate seeing him like this, annoying as he is. It’s all Daemon’s fault, that son of a-“ Lucerys’ ranting was cut off as Syrax pinched his lips between her claw. Before he could prize her off him, a large shadow loomed over the group, and the three sea creatures ushered the younger prince behind a rock, hiding him from sight.

It was an eel, but it was considerably larger than Caraxes, by two times at least. She looked more like some ancient sea serpent, for she was an ancient creature. Her bronze scales that once gleaned brightly had dulled with age, but her eyes still gleamed just as bright, as did the small clusters of blue and green streaked along the top and underside of her body. One eye was a vibrant green, like grass in the height of springtime. The other was an unnaturally vibrant blue, glowing brightly in the night like a sapphire.

Vhagar was surely an fearsome sight to behold.

Lucerys watched the beast slither into the grotto. He went to follow her, but Syrax stopped him by pinching his side.

“I can’t let him be eaten, can I?” He hissed, rubbing the reddened skin. “I have to do something!” He protested, but Syrax and Arrax blocked his path adamantly. Even Vermax was more focused on keeping the younger prince hidden than going to Jace, grabbing long stems of kelp and dropping them over Luke, who brushed them off him immediately.

“You have to let me help him? It’s just some old eel, right?”

Jacaerys had wiped his eyes, but was still staring down at the rubble, not wanting to lift his head to be greeted with the sight of his former grotto, once a proud collection, now reduced to nothing. He didn’t want to cry again.

He let out a deep, shaking breath, trying to slow his hammering heart and calm the tremble in his hands. And yet every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was the princess he saved.

“Mijegindita riña… Mijegindita dōna riña…”[Poor child… poor sweet child…]

Jace’s head shot up to be greeted with the sight of Vhagar circling him like a constrictor about to suffocate it’s prey, her blue eye glowing violently in the darkness. He recognised the language as High Valyrian, the ancient language of merfolk. But he was far from a fluent speaker. In fact, he was rather terrible.

“I-I’m sorry I… I don’t fully understand…”

“It seems as though you have a very serious problem… if only there was something that could be done…”

The beast continued, this time in a modern tongue. Her voice was more of a deep, ancient rumble, coming from within. She didn’t move her mouth when she spoke, but Jace saw the glinting of those dagger like teeth. It was as though she were a vessel for someone else to speak to him. As though someone was speaking through her.

“Perhaps there is something that could be done for you…” Vhagar continued, circling closer and closer around Jace, turning her head towards him so he could clearly see her in the silvery glow of the moon above.

“I… I know you…” Jace breathed, and she retreated back into the inky murkiness of the shadows. “But that’s impossible… you… you and him… you were both banished… after what happened with- with Luke…”

He was only young when his uncle Aemond was banished, and Lucerys was too young to properly remember everything, but the memories still stuck with the elder prince vividly. He remembered the glint of the blade in the torchlight, he remembered Lucerys lunging at Aemond, and the young man’s screams wailing through the kingdom.

That was many years ago. Over a decade.

“Don’t be scared…” The voice spoke. “I represent the person who can help you. Someone who can make all your dreams come true…”

“I don’t think-“

“Just imagine-“ The voice cut him off, Vhagar’s head slithered past him, that piercing blue eye focused entirely on the prince. “You and your princess. Together, forever.” There was a slight mocking edge to the voice as it spoke, making Jace frown.

“No… no I can’t.” Jace faltered, knowing the offer, although tempting, was surely tainted with something far more sinister in return.

“Aemond has become incredibly powerful. He can use his power to help you...”

That stopped Jace in his tracks. He’d heard the rumours of his depraved uncle turning to dark magic in his exile. Some said he’d saught out the sea witch, Alys Rivers, who had mysteriously vanished months after his banishment.

“No I... I couldn’t possibly go to him. No. Get out of here! Leave me alone!” He exclaimed, lunging forwards and out of Vhagar’s reach to sit on one of his now empty ledges and facing away from the beast.

”Suit yourself,” The voice said as Vhagar retreated. “It was only a suggestion.” As she left, her tail flicked upwards, causing your statue’s face, still somehow intact unlike the rest of the statue, to land beside Jace. He reached over and picked it up, cradling it in his arms, Daemon’s words echoing over and over again in his mind.

“If you truly loved the humans, Jacaerys, if you truly wanted to be where you belong, you should go to them…”

“…Because you certainly don’t belong here.”

And for once, Jacaerys agreed with Daemon.

He was his mother’s heir, and yet he had no qualities of being a king. He wasn’t studious, or particularly charismatic in the eyes of the people. He did his royal duties when he remembered, but he had never aspired to be a king.

He remembered every little slip up, every time he’d been late to an event, every time he’d disappointed his mother and his siblings. Even little Viserys and Aegon could do a better job that he could. Even Luke with his mischievous ways, and young Joffrey, carried out their tasks to perfection. And his sisters, Baela and Rhaena were born to lead.

He wasn’t born for that.

He didn’t belong.

When he watched you on that ship, when he watched the people celebrate your birthday, and dance and sing and tell stories, he felt more at home. Like he could belong.

Daemon was right.

His mind was made up.

He was going to see Aemond.

“Wait!” He called out, and Vhagar’s face loomed into view once again.

“Take me to him.”

A/N: I know, I know, and I’m sorry to the Aemond girlies who are disappointed he didn’t show up. But I can promise you that he will be centre stage throughout most of Part Two

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[tortillamastersblog]

⊱Drawing Stars Around Your Scars | Oliver Queen⊰

Pairing: Oliver Queen x reader

Warnings: injuries and mentions of blood

Summary: Oliver would do anything to regain your trust. . .

________________________________________________

“Good Night, Doctor Y/L/N.” Ella, one of the nurses at the nurses’ station waves me goodbye and I return the gesture with a tired smile.

I just got out of an eight hour surgery and I can’t wait to get home. I make my way through the busy halls of the hospital and down to the parking garage without changing out of my scrubs.

It’s freezing outside and when my fingers curl around the cold leather of my steering wheel I shiver.

I pull out of the underground parking garage and make my way home.

The streets of Starling City are busy, even at this time of day, which is why it doesn’t take long for me to be stuck in traffic.

I sigh and turn on the radio, humming along to the Christmas songs that are playing before my phone rings.

I glance at it and smile, answering the call on my car’s hands-free. “Speedy, what are you doing up this late? It’s a school night.” I tease, but my smile quickly vanishes and turns into a concerned frown when I hear the girl crying softly on the other end of the line.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Are you still at work?” she say quietly.

“No, I’m not. Are you okay? What’s going on?” I ask, drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, worried.

When Oliver vanished at sea five years ago, Thea and I grew extremely close. While she grieved over her brother, I grieved over my best friend and partner in crime.

We grew so close in fact that she’s like a baby sister to me now and whenever she’s in trouble, or feeling down, I’m usually the one she calls since Moira and Walter are both emotionally unavailable.

Thea doesn’t answer right away, so I promt her softly. “Speedy? You still there?”

“I—Yeah, I’m still here. It’s just. . . Ollie. He not home, again! And he’s acting like a complete stranger. I don’t even recognize him anymore it’s just—“ she breaks down in tears and I make a u-turn the next chance I get, heading toward the Queen’s manor outside the city.

This isn’t the first time she’s broken down over Oliver’s return and how different he is compared to five years ago.

“C-Can you come over?” she hiccups and I tell her that I’m already on my way.

The traffic thins out once I’m out of the city, staying on the phone with Thea the entire time until I pull up outside of her family’s manor.

The security guard at the gate greets me with a polite smile and let’s me in without hesitation.

I get out of the car, the gravel beneath my feet crunching as I walk up to the front door, which swings open before I get the change to ring the doorbell.

Thea basically jumps on me, pulling me into a hug, and cries into my shoulder.

I hold her tight and waddle us inside, away from the cold and let the door close behind us with a gentle click.

“Thank you for coming,” Thea whispers, her grip around my shoulders not letting up.

“Of course. Anything for you, Speedy,” I reply just as quietly, rubbing my hands over her back.

We stay like that for a few minutes, enjoying each other’s company before she pulls back, her eyes roaming over my outfit.

“You just got off work, didn’t you?” she asks, guilt scrunching up her face. “You must be so tired. I’m sorry for making you come here.”

I wave her off and squeeze her shoulders. “Hey, no. Don’t be sorry. I am tired, yes, but you’re more important than sleep,” I joke softly which earns me a small smile.

Thea sighs and uses the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe away the remainder of her tears. Then, she eyes me hopefully before asking, “Have you had dinner yet?”

I shake my head and she pulls out her phone, waving it around for emphasis.

“Do you want to order some takeout then and watch a movie with me?”

Tomorrow is my day off, so I don’t mind staying with her, especially because she’s home alone and it seems like she could use some company right now.

“Sure,” I agree easily, “but I need a shower and some comfy clothes.”

Thea nods adamantly and pulls me upstairs and into her room.

“Use whatever you like in there. You know the drill,” she says gesturing at her en-suite bathroom. “I’ll go and find some clothes for you.”

I thank her and smile, going into the bathroom and stripping out of my scrubs before stepping into the enormous shower.

A knock on the door lets me know that Thea’s found me some clothes and she cracks it open just enough to reach inside, placing some clothes on the floor before closing the door again.

I finish quickly, shutting off the water before drying off and putting on the fresh clothes.

I frown when I pull on the pair of gray sweatpants, figuring that they can’t be Thea’s because she’s a head shorter than me and the sweatpants are oversized, even on me.

The same goes for the sweatshirt and when I pull it on and a familiar cologne surrounds wafts around me, I know why.

These are Oliver’s clothes.

I shiver involuntarily and can’t help but bury my nose in the fabric of the sweater, taking a deep breath.

I’ve missed this smell, I’ve missed Oliver, but I haven’t really admitted that to anyone since he came back.

We’ve always been best friends, but since we were teenagers I knew that my feelings for him weren’t solely platonic.

I never acted on them though because I knew we could never work. While he was a millionaire playboy, I was a nerd, passing all my classes in school with flying colors and getting into med school before even turning twenty.

I also hated how he hooked up with anyone he had a chance with, and I swore to myself a long time ago that I’d never let myself be just another one of his conquests.

Now though, things have changed. Oliver has changed and I have, too. We’re both grown up and it seems like he’s left behind his playboy lifestyle.

Every time I see him nowadays, he’s calm, well spoken, and a true gentleman. He no longer drinks or takes drugs, and I’ve caught him shamelessly staring at me quite a few times now.

It’s something he didn’t used to do, and it gets my hopes up that, maybe, he secretly feels the same way about me as I do about him, but then he goes and blows me off time and time again, without answering any of my texts or calls.

It’s gotten to the point where I don’t even agree to hanging out with him any more because I know he’ll leave me hanging anyway, but still, every time he asks me to dinner, or offers to buy some coffee my heart flutters and I feel my cheeks grow warm.

“So, what do you want to watch?” Thea asks when I exit the bedroom, throwing myself on the bed next to her.

“I don’t care,” I say honestly, checking my phone before leaning back against the headboard.

“Okayyy.” Thea hums in though. She scrolls through some movies on her TV before settling on Elf.

The opening credits start rolling and I get even more comfortable, patting Thea’s head playfully when she rests it on my shoulder.

Fifteen minutes into the movie, our food gets delivered and we eat on the bed in silence, continuing to watch the movie.

Thea eventually falls asleep and I sigh, turning off the TV.

I get off the bed and drape the comforter over her, chuckling softly when she frowns in her sleep.

“Nighty night, Speedy,” I whisper before leaving her room.

I make my way down the dark hallway toward the grand staircase, ready to go home, but the sound of breaking ceramic makes me stop in my tracks.

I squint in the darkness, straining to hear where it came from before deciding to investigate.

The sound most likely came from Oliver’s room and because he’s not supposed to be home, I’m curious to see what caused the slight commotion.

Maybe the Queens got a cat I don’t know about?

I highly doubt that, but then again, Thea’s done some crazy things over the last couple of years, lashing out every chance she got to mask her grief.

I slowly open the door to Oliver’s room and peek inside, freezing when I see a hunched over figure by one of the bedside tables.

They’re picking up what looks like shards of a vase, stacking them neatly before getting back to their feet.

A quiet grunt escapes them and once they’re upright with their back turned toward me, I recognize them, or should I say him?

It’s Oliver in his vigilante suit and when I take a closer look I notice he’s clutching at his side with one of his hands.

He’s hurt.

I turn on the light with an annoyed sigh and put my hand on my hip, watching him spin around with a dagger in his hand.

“What are you doing here?” he asks in his fake deep and gravelly voice and I just raise a challenging eyebrow in return.

“Drop the act, Ollie,” I say calmly, watching with mild amusement as his eyes widened.

“I— What are you—?” he stammers before his shoulders curl forward and he whispers, “How did you know?”

He takes off his hood and even though I know it’s him underneath, I still feel a chill run down my spine when his exhausted eyes meet mine.

I’ve known he’s the Green Arrow ever since he returned to Starling City. I mean, how could I not know?

All the sneaking around? His sudden interest in his family’s business? The constant bruises and cuts on his face?

And let’s not forget how he physically changed over the last five years. Where he used to be a thin, athletic kid he’s now a broad-shouldered hunk of a man and I’d be lying if I said it makes him less attractive.

“C’mon, Ollie,” I scoff, crossing the room to look at the injury on his side. “You do know who you’re talking to right now, don’t you?”

Oliver hangs his head and stays silent, allowing me to pull up his bloody clothes to get a better look at his side.

The wound isn’t too deep, but it will need stitches and judging by its frayed edges I’m guessing it’s a graze from a bullet.

“Do you have any medical supplies?” I ask. I have a small emergency kit in my car, but I’m too lazy to get it right now.

Luckily, Oliver nods and points at the bedside table where he was just crouching, picking up the shards of the shattered vase.

“Take off your shirt and lay on the bed,” I command without looking at him. In times like this, my doctor-ly instincts kick in and I don’t care who my patient is. All I’m focusing on is getting the wound cleaned and stitched up.

Oliver does as I say and once I’ve gotten everything I need from the bedside table, I turn to him, sucking in a breath when my eyes land on his exposed upper body.

It’s covered in scars and a tattoo I didn’t know he had and I can only imagine what he went through to look like this.

Thea did say that over twenty percent of his body was covered in scar tissue, but actually seeing it up close makes my stomach twist.

Watching me with a knowing look, Oliver gently wraps his fingers around one of my wrists which brings me back to reality.

He smiles reassuringly, silently telling me not to worry about what’s happened and I return the smile albeit a little weakly.

I take a deep breath and square my shoulders, getting to work on cleaning the wound and the area around it.

It continues to leak blood, no matter how many times I wipe at it and after a while I just give up, getting right to stitching it up.

“This might hurt,” I whisper as I press the needle against Oliver’s skin, but he not so much as twitches when the thin metal pierces his skin.

I work in silence, focusing on the work at hand before Oliver’s head rolls to the side to look at me directly as he says, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

I hum, not taking my eyes off my hands and brush off his words, thinking he’s referring to right now, making me stitch him up and care for him, but then he continues.

“I’m sorry for blowing you off so many times over the last couple of weeks,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry for cutting you out of my life right before getting on the Gambit with my dad.”

I clench my jaw and finish the last stitch. I stare at my hands and take a deep breath.

I tried to forget about that.

The days before getting onto that cursed yacht with his father, I called Oliver out on his hypocritical behavior and his playboy attitude which lead to him basically ending our friendship.

I cried for days, missing several important college classes, but then the news of the Queen’s Gambit sinking sobered me up and I forgot all about our falling out.

I cried some more then, this time for a different reason, but as time went on I grew numb to it and put all my energy into med school.

“It’s fine. . .” I whisper, moving to get back to work, but Oliver grabs my hand, making me look at him.

“No,” he says with furrowed eyebrows. “I was such an asshole and you were right. You’re always right and I’m really sorry it took me this long to apologize .”

I chuckle weakly, not liking the sudden tension between us and avert my eyes. “I’m not always right,” I argue,

Oliver squeezes my hand, getting me to look at him again. “Well, maybe not. . .” he says with a small smile. “But you were right about what you said and— again— I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to admit it. I felt backed into a corner when you called me out on my shit and I didn’t know what else to do other than lashing out at you.”

“Ollie—“ I try to stop him, but he cuts me off by squeezing my hand again and continuing.

“Y/N. I’ve been through. . . a lot. . . over the last five years, but I’ve also had a lot of time to think and—“he bites the inside of his cheek and scratches at his eyebrow nervously— “and you’re honestly the only constant in my life. The thought of you and sometime’s even Thea kept me going when I felt like giving up and I swore to myself that if I ever got the chance to, I’d make things right between us. . . I’d do what I should have done a long time ago.”

I gulp and try not to pull my hand from his. “What are you talking about, Ollie?”

He can’t be saying what I think he’s saying, can he?

Oliver sits up, grimacing slightly when the stitches on his waist strain against the movement, and swings his legs over the edge of the bed so he’s sitting next to me.

The heat radiating off his body makes me shiver involuntarily and when he places my hand against the scar on his chest I gasp softly.

“I don’t want to spend another day worrying about what ifs and maybes, so I’m asking you now, Y/N, would you do me the honor of going to dinner with me? As in like, a date, you know?” He stumbles a bit over the end of his sentence but his question takes my breath away nonetheless.

My brows furrow and I feel my heart clench at the conflicting feelings running through me at the moment.

“I don’t— I don’t know,” I admit.

Even though this is all I’ve been hoping for since we were kids, I can’t help but have doubts about his intentions.

What if he hasn’t changed as much as I think he has? What if he’s still a narcissistic playboy?

I don’t know if I could stand being used by him, so I shake my head and move to back away.

Seeing the doubt on my face, Oliver’s eyes soften and his hold on my hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Please, Y/N this is not— I’m not. . .” He trails off, biting his lip in thought.

Then instead of trying to explain himself, he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes briefly.

“This scar,” he says quietly, pressing my hand against the uneven patch of skin on his chest for emphasis, “is from a guy named Kovar. He. . . tried to stop me from leaving Lian Yu and pressed the hot tip of his gun against my skin, right here.”

My eyes widen, not only because no one knew he wasn’t alone on that island, but also because he’s actually telling me what happened.

Since he came back, he’s barely spoken of his time on Lian Yu and the fact that he’s willing to open up about what happened makes me trust his intentions.

He moves my hand down his chest, against a long, gnarly looking scar that follows the downward slope of his ribcage right over his stomach.

“This one is from when I first stranded on the island. There was this guy, William, or Billy, Winter—“

“No, Ollie, stop.” I cut him off, shaking my head. “You don’t have to tell me any of this just to prove yourself to me.”

It’s clear he’s struggling to put into words what happened if his overly tense muscles are anything to go by and I don’t want him to feel like he’s forced to share his trauma in order to get me to trust him again.

“But I want you to know,” he argues weakly, letting go of my hand.

I shake my head and move closer, tracing my fingers along the edge of the scar.

It makes Olive twitch slightly and I smile at the effect I have on him.

“And you can,” I assure him, skimming my fingers over his warm skin before brushing over the scar on his hip that looks suspiciously like a shark bite.

What the hell happened to him on that island. . .

“Just not now. Not all at once and not when you’re so obviously not ready to talk about it yet,” I continue, mesmerized by the way his muscles twitch beneath my touch.

I continue exploring his skin, raising an eyebrow at the tattoo on his chest before skipping over it and touching the scar on his shoulder.

They all look like they never healed properly and I get a chill, thinking about the possible infections that could have killed him, but then my train of thought is suddenly silenced when Oliver brushes his lips against my own.

Not realizing how close I’ve gotten while inspecting every little detail about him, I pull back with a surprised squeak and place a hand on his chest to stop him from closing the distance between us again.

“Shit,” he whispers, bringing a hand to his lips. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—“

“It’s okay,” I say with a soft chuckle. I take his hand away from his mouth and lace our fingers together. “Just. . . Take me to dinner first.”

Oliver’s cheeks turn red, a rare sight, and I squeeze his hand before straining to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Right. Sorry.” He meets my eyes shyly and I smile at him when he tries to suppress a yawn.

It makes me yawn as well and Oliver gets to his feet. He kisses my knuckles and lets go of my hand.

“I need a shower,” he explains before nervously scratching at his eyebrow again. “Will you still be here when I get out?”

I melt at how vulnerable he sounds and nod, slipping under the covers of his bed. “Only if you don’t take too long.”

Oliver’s eyes widen comically and he springs into action, gathering some clothes before rushing into the bathroom.

________________________________________________

God, the chokehold this man’s got me in. . .

[fayes-fics]

Upper Hand [Drabble]

2k Celebration Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Who wins in a game of dirty talk?

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI. dirty talk, talk of cunnilingus and blowjobs.

Word Count: 536 (ah well)

Authors Note: Sixth of my 2k follower celebration drabble request fills for @queen-of-the-misfit-toys (ask here). Prompt: "if we weren't in public, I'd have my head between your legs". I have actually used this prompt before for a regency drabble, so I went modern this time. Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

“If we weren't in public, I would have my head between your legs.”

It takes all of your abilities not to spit out, or indeed choke on, the olive you just popped in your mouth. You have to roll it between your molars and take a deep breath before you can do anything, your mind haunted by the spectre of a head of wavy chestnut hair framed by your thighs, strong large hands wrapped around your thighs, holding your hips down forcefully as he feasts on your body.

“Stop it! Your mother is right there!” you hiss indignantly, looking around the large table you are gathered at in a sophisticated London restaurant.

“You don't think she had her fair share of such moments? I do have seven brothers and sisters, you know,” he points out dryly, a hand landing heavily on your hemline, mid-thigh.

“Yes, but maybe not in front of her parents?” you contend, your temperature notching up as that hand travels further up your thigh.

He just chuckles, the sound rich in your ear. “Let’s not talk of my family, shall we? Not when all of my thoughts are of sucking on your clit, until you grab my hair in that way you do. Almost suffocating me with your gorgeous little cunt, grinding just so hard. I didn't shave before coming out this evening, just for you, so I have that little bit of stubble I know you like right on my upper lip; that really sends you over the edge, doesn't it, my sweet girl?”

Perhaps to those around the table, you look like a young couple in love, heads together, whispering sweet nothings. Not attempting to school your expression in the face of the utter filth he is spouting.

“Benedict,” you murmur, trying to sound disapproving, but it's far too husky.

“Yes?” his hand is under your hem now, toying with the soft skin between your legs, leaving little ticklish trails that burn so hot. “We can go out the alley if you need a little preview?” his offer smooth like velvet.

Deciding that is all you can handle, your body just so alight and needy, you know the only way to get the upper hand is to give him a taste of his own medicine. You twist your head slightly so that your lips are right next to his ear, and you wait for him to pick up his glass before you exact your revenge.

“I don't see how you will be able to do that when I'm going to be on my knees choking on your cock in about two minutes,” you lobby back.  

You can't help the triumphant smirk as he splutters and chokes on the mouthful of wine he just took, having to apologise to his family for distracting their attention. 

He is still gawping at you, absolutely flabbergasted, as you excuse yourself on the pretence of the bathrooms. But you pass by that door and turn around, still in his eye line, his stare blistering. You tilt your head at the emergency exit sign with a raised eyebrow.

He almost trips over his own coat on the back of his chair in the rush to get up.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu

[pettypiastri]

under the warm white lights

quinn hughes x fem reader

wc: 2.7k

warnings: children? one mention of starting a family/marriage. one passing mention of alcohol. one single swear. one innuendo. pretty wholesome fluff :)

a/n: happy valentine’s day! a short lil piece for our beloved quinny :) since quinn is the oldest and i didn’t feel it was fitting to make jack or luke married given their ages and places in life, “Sara” is a fake fourth Hughes child and has a daughter named Olive! Enjoy friends, and feel free to send in some requests if you have any ideas you wanna see written!

Despite it being winter vacation, your alarm wakes you up. A ripe 7am but you’re not as mad as you would be during the semester since you know what’s waiting for you this morning. As you take an extra moment to yourself, stretching out on the cozy queen bed, you know you’re far from the first one awake today. 

Rising with a yawn, you take to the bathroom to complete your morning routine before slipping on a sufficiently warm outfit. Even the extra blankets and raging heater in the Hughes’ house can’t keep the Michigan winter out of your bones. After pulling fluffy socks on your feet, you depart the clutches of the spare room and venture toward the kitchen.

Ellen is tucked into a bar stool reading a paper and clutching a coffee cup. Her head perks up at your entrance and a warm smile shakes the remaining chill out of your body. There are a few other family members scattered about the living area including a couple of the little ones.

“Morning sweetheart. Help yourself to some coffee.” Ellen says. You nod and mouth a ‘thank you.’ Filling up a cup, you take a seat near Ellen and Quinn’s sister Sara where you can see through the sliding glass back door. The warm coffee begins to jolt you awake. You take leisurely sips and chat intermittently with the women as you wake up but your gaze is continually drawn to the outdoor rink.

Quinn, Jack, Luke, and a few of their hometown friends are skating around playing hockey on the pond, lit only by the warm white lights strung around the perimeter. It’s not yet sunrise. You just know they’re chirping each other constantly by the smiles glued to their faces. The thought makes you grin; you love watching the boys do what they love. 

One in particular though. Quinn’s always been such a smooth skater. He’s effortless out there moving around his buddies and tossing playful hip checks around to his brothers. His electric grin is almost visible from there. With the glowing string lights softly illuminating his form, he looks almost angelic, edges fuzzy from the warm white light. You can’t take your eyes off him. 

You only notice how long you’ve been staring when you raise your cup to your lips and there’s nothing left in it. As you debate what another cup might do to your body, Sara’s little girl Olive starts badgering her mother about going outside. 

“Not right now hunny, mommy’s still waking up.” She sighs, trying to bask in a few more minutes of peaceful quiet. 

“I can take her… if you don’t mind of course. I was gonna wander out that way myself.” You pipe up, looking at Sara for approval. Her daughter is already squealing delightedly and begging her mum to agree. She smiles at you in a heartbeat. 

“You don’t mind? That’d be great, thank you Y/N.” She regards you warmly before ushering her little one to grab some necessary outer layers. You rise to put your mug in the dishwasher and find a few warm clothing items too. With some leggings on your lower half and fuzzy socks underneath your fur lined ankle boots, you think the hoodie and flannel you pull on will keep you warm enough. Oh and a beanie of course, complete with pom pom. Returning to the kitchen you find Olive tugging her extra clothes on so you bend down to her height to help finish the job. 

“Ready chickee?” You ask, pulling her beanie down over her ears. She nods eagerly and you can’t help but boop her nose before heading toward the backdoor. “Hold my hand babe, it’s slippery on the stairs here, okay?” She whines an ‘I know’ but does as you say anyway, moving hand in hand with you down the creaky wood stairs. There’s no wind this morning thankfully but the cold still sends a jolt through you. You both trudge through the slightly snowy walkway toward the rink. You pick your head up to look for Quinn, knowing he’ll want to say ‘hi’ to his niece, but you’re distracted by the gorgeous dawn sky. The stars are still out and as your eyes adjust you see just how many constellations are visible.

“Olive, look up at the sky!” You coo crouching down to pick her up in your  arms. “There’s Orion. And the Big Dipper. Y'know what’s special about that one babe?” She shakes her head no. You grab her hand gently and guide her finger along the path made by the two outermost stars of the scoop. “It points to that star right there. The big bright one you see it? That’s the North Star. It never moves so you always know where North is.” She makes noises of amazement and proceeds to ask you more questions about the stars and what other constellations you know. You spend a few minutes in your own little world talking about and marveling at the sky. 

Quinn’s POV 

They’ve been staring at the sky for several minutes now. I can hear Olive’s giggle from here, even above the sound of skates on rough ice. Y/N’s been pointing at different things and speaking softly to Olive. Every once and a while Olive’s tiny hand flies up to the sky and points at something, her excited chatter getting a bit louder. Sometimes Y/N moves her hand to point somewhere else or turns on her heel to give Olive a new view. Watching them from afar makes my heart warm. It’s such a genuine, organic interaction I can’t help but be filled with love. I wish Y/N was holding our kid instead of just my niece. But that’s getting way ahead of myself; we’re not even dating… yet… I hope. I hold my tongue so as not to disturb their moment and mine vicariously. 

“Lost in a little daydream there Q?” It’s Jack. For as annoyed as I am about him interrupting, I’m also glad that he’s the one catching me in fantasy land and not one of my buddies. Jack knows how I feel. He knew even before I caught on. I just hum, keeping my eyes on the precious sight a few seconds longer. “She’s good with her. Fits right into the Hughes clan.” His words are accompanied with a slight nudge. For once his tone isn’t teasing and that’s what gets me to break my stare. 

He wears a soft smile to top off his genuine statement. I can see in his eyes what he means inadvertently: “Tell her how you feel. You’ve loved this girl for years. The family loves her too. Make her an official part of it.” It’s nothing more radical than my normal thoughts when I’m a few shots deep or apparently on cold Michigan mornings. I smile solemnly back at the older boy, conveying what doesn’t need to be said verbally either: “I’m not ready yet. One day. Baby steps.” Instead I stop lazily leaning on my stick and take a few strides toward the edge of the rink. 

Y/N's POV

“Well good morning sleeping beauty… ” Quinn calls softly. You know immediately the greeting was meant for you when he meets your eyes and gives you a warm smile. Both his actions and his words make you blush. Hopefully it isn’t noticeable under your already wind bitten cheeks but comfortingly, you notice his look just the same. You wonder if it’s because of the wind too or something else.

“Well look who it is! Nice of you to join us ladies!” Jack chirps you as soon as he comes to a stop at the edge of the rink. You roll your eyes playfully and hand over his niece when you see he’s abandoned his hockey stick to free up his hands. Olive is already squealing as Jack skates off to take her on ‘a tour of the rink’ you think you heard him say.

“I didn’t even get to say hi!” Quinn pouts at you, bottom lip jutting out and all. “So much for being the funcle,” he adds. 

“Oh so I’m not entertaining enough company?” You place your hand on your chest acting wounded. Quinn just smiles, his pretty eyes twinkling from the string lights. He leans forward and kisses your cheek, dangerously close to your lips. The accidental proximity makes you shiver. 

“Certainly prettier company than my brothers.” He offers, reaching a hand out to toy with the strings of your (his) hoodie. You smile up at him bashfully, enjoying this peaceful early morning moment. Reaching a hand out to readjust Quinn’s beanie to cover his ears, you try to distract yourself from his stare. He chuckles briefly at your avoidance before he peers over the boards to look down at your feet. Tsk’ing he sighs. 

“No skates. Figured.” You slip your hand down from his neck to his chest, palm resting over patches on his old NTDP jersey.

“It’s like you forget I’m part of the general population sometimes: most people don’t own skates.” You get lost in his eyes for a few moments, unable to think of anything funny to tack on to the end of your statement. 

In one fell swoop, Quinn lifts you up to sit on the edge of the boards. A squeak of fright leaves your mouth as you scramble to reach out for him. You’re able to steady yourself by grabbing his biceps while he takes advantage of the opportunity to slot himself between your legs.

The more compromising position has you inches from Quinn’s face. Your eyes meet easily and Quinn smiles bashfully at you, seemingly a bit nervous. He slips his hands between your hoodie and your flannel, resting against your clothed waist. The clouds of his minty breath tickle your nose. Your lips part involuntarily, unlocking when the tendrils of steam flutter against them. It’s the closest I’ll ever be to kissing him, you think.

“Aren’t you in the middle of a game Q?” You mutter quietly. Not much volume is necessary at this proximity. His eyes watch your lips as you speak. You try not to let the action go straight to your heart. No luck.

“Half time. Tryna get warmed up.” Quinn shrugs, gloveless hands slipping around to your back as he drops his face into your neck. Another squeak betrays you at the feeling of his frosty nose but you wrap your arms comfortingly around his back anyway. 

“Didn’t your mom ever tell you about taking a girl to dinner first before you steal her warmth?” You tease, hands sweeping across his back and up to his neck. Quinn smiles into your neck, nuzzling further against you as if he’s shy. 

“You want to go to dinner then?” He murmurs, barely above a whisper. Your heart flutters and drops to your stomach. It’s just rhetorical, a joke, you reason, trying to calm your rampant heartbeat. One of his big hands slides around your waist, settling on your lower back. His fingers are tentative and careful as he holds you against him, reflecting his trepidatious tone. You hum softly, feeling heat rise to your face and that tingly feeling in your fingers. You try to convince yourself it’s just the cold. Gently you pull Quinn’s head up by threading your fingers through his hair and giving a soft tug. You need to see his eyes to know if he’s being serious or if it really was a harmless tease. His cheeks are frosted red, maybe even more than yours; he’s always been a rosy boy. You run your fingers along Quinn’s strong jaw and meet his eyes but not before flitting over his plush lips. He looks serious albeit nervous.

“Chipotle doesn’t count.” You murmur. At this he laughs out loud, some of the tension of the moment slipping away. When Quinn collects himself his lips press another soft kiss to your cheek. Your actual cheek this time. Briefly you forgot what you both were even talking about.

“Okay but if it weren’t chipotle… what would you say?” He’s a bit mumbly but you find it all the more endearing in his rounded Michigan accent. Quinn can’t quite meet your eyes now; he bounces nervously between his skates, his hand on your waist, your eyes are bright. “Maybe we could dress up a little bit? I’d wear a suit just to see you in that dress… the one from the gala? The black one, tiny straps, big slit– fuck I can’t stop thinking about you in that dress.” A heat burns your cheeks, surprised by the dichotomy of Quinn’s bold honesty and his shy tone. One of his hands is playing with the stitching on your hoodie pocket, the other still on your back. You feel his thumb brushing softly there, trying to coax an answer out of you. When he finally looks up and holds your gaze for an extended moment, your heart leaps. He looks so nervous but there’s that beautiful, childlike hope in his eyes too. His courage gives you a push to act the same.

“Mmm I’ll go.” Your inflection is harmlessly flighty. This brings his attention back up to your eyes. He raises one brow at you, knowing you still have more to say. 

“You’ll go if…”

“I’ll go if… you pay.” He rolls his eyes playfully at your musing but nods. You can tell he’s regained some confidence from your initial acceptance so he tolerates your teasing. 

“Already was planning on it.” A big smile starts to pull at his lips but he swallows it quickly to try and play it cool. You fall for him even more in that moment.

“And,” You start, your stomach flooding with a new set of nerves. Cautiously you meet his gaze. “If you promise to take that dress off me at the end of the night.” You’re barely audible but Quinn hears you. Loud and clear. You study his features intently to see if he’ll reach out to catch your admittance floating in the air. Quinn’s Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly, before his tongue pokes out to wet his lips. His eyes still twinkle but there’s a slight glaze over them now.

“Whaddaya say Quinny?” You prompt, nervousness infesting your body. Quinn nods once, and then two more times. 

“Yeah… yeah I’d like that.” His soft tone is barely louder than yours. If you weren’t so trained on him, you might’ve missed the whispered confession. 

“Yo Quinn let’s go!” Luke shouts, effectively shattering your moment. Jack’s timing is impeccable too, as he swings little Olive over the boards and deposits her flat on her feet. He regards the two of you and your compromising position with a coy smile but for once doesn’t say a word. He skates off leaving you alone with Quinn for just a second more. 

“Score me a couple goals eh?” You smile at him playfully, fingers curling into the hair at the base of his neck. Quinn’s gorgeous smile is instant, the lights reflecting off his beaming expression. You think you fall fully for him in that moment: your hand on his neck, his on your back, and smiling at you like a giddy kid. It happens so fast you don’t even realize it happens until after the fact. He kisses you. On the lips. The tiniest most fleeting peck but it sends a spark through you to the very tips of your fingers, banishing any chill residing in your bones. The action speaks so loudly despite being so small. It’s possession and excitement and disbelief and naive glee all in one. You can’t help but feel the same. 

Wordlessly Quinn helps you back over the boards so you’re standing next to Olive. He takes you in one more time and shakes his head in disbelief, having a private giggle as he skates off to rejoin the boys. You pick up Olive as before, and start to trudge back to the house. 

“Is Quinn your boyfriend?” She asks suddenly. You glance at her to see her intent stare as she ponders you.

“Almost.” You say. “Almost.”

Quinn's POV

“The hell was that?” Jack asks incredulously. I come to a stop beside him, waiting for the boys to faceoff. I glance once more at Y/N as she walks back across to the house before responding, the smile still very much on my face. 

“I think we’re going on a date.” 

[thebisexualdogdad]

An eventful holiday - Thea Queen x Male!reader

A/N: based off the 1x09 holiday episode because I've started a DC show rewatch and forgot how much of a crush I used to have on Thea

When Oliver came back from the dead he had a lot of new things he had to adjust to, one of the hardest being that his little sister who was only twelve the last time he saw her was now seventeen with a boyfriend.

He wanted an opportunity to bring his family closer after learning they stopped celebrating Christmas when he and his father went missing so Oliver planned a big Christmas party to make up for lost time.

However he didn't expect you to be invited as Thea's plus one.

He, Thea, Moira and Walter just got their photo taken when you walk in holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Hi, uh Thea invited me," you say seeing the angry look on Oliver's face, "Mrs. Queen these are for you."

You hand Moira the flowers and she thanks you, Thea kissing you on the cheek and showing you to the food table.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you how amazing you look tonight," you smile, grabbing a christmas cookie and taking a bite of it.

"You clean up pretty nice yourself," she says, drinking a glass of champagne and taking in the sight of you in your suit.

"Well I wanted to impress your brother, I don't think he likes me very much," you admit.

"Because he doesn't know you and he still doesn't want to believe I'm not a little kid anymore," she tells you.

"Maybe we should hang out sometime, just the three of us so he and I can actually get to know each other," you suggest.

"You're putting in a lot of effort to get the approval of my brother," she chuckles.

"That's because I love you, I want him to know that I'm serious about us and would never do anything to hurt you."

Thea smiles and kisses you sweetly, putting her empty glass down on the table, "I love you too and I think we should go upstairs for some privacy so I can give you your christmas present."

"But we exchanged gifts already," You say confused as you and Thea had a small get together with your family a few days prior.

"This is the part of your gift that I couldn't give you in front of your parents," she grins.

You had no idea what was in store for you but you quickly down a glass of champagne as she takes your hand and guides you towards the stairs.

Oliver sees this and glares at you, about to follow you two with intentions of kicking you out of the party but his mother puts her hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Let them be Oliver," Moira says calmly.

"You're really okay with what they are going to do up there?" Oliver huffs.

"They are young and in love, in case you've forgotten your father and I tried to stop you sneaking around with girls when you were their age and yet you still always found a way," she chuckles.

"She's not ready to be in a relationship this serious," Oliver states.

"And you were?" Moira laughs, "you have to accept that Thea is not the same twelve year old she was when you left."

"Excuse me mom, I need to get some air," Oliver sighs, heading to the front door.

Meanwhile upstairs you are sitting on Thea's bed as she locks her door, sauntering towards you and climbing in your lap.

"Go ahead and unzip my dress," she says and you reach up, pulling the zipper down her chest to reveal the black lacy bra she has underneath.

"Wow," you mutter, the top of her dress falling off her shoulders and bunching around her waist.

"You like it?" She asks it.

"You are so beautiful Thea," you say putting your hands on her waist and kissing her deeply.

The kiss intensifies, Thea slipping your suit jacket off and tossing it to the floor before unbuttoning your shirt.

You pick her up and flip her over, letting her get comfortable against the pillows.

Thea moans softly as you kiss down her neck and along her chest while pulling her dress the rest of the way off her body exposing the lacy black panties that matched her bra.

"Merry Christmas Y/N," she says, biting her lip.

"This just may be the best gift I've ever received," you mutter, your lips traveling along her stomach which results in her hips rocking up for any form of friction.

You spend a while exploring her body and working her up, fully enjoying your gift, your fingers are gently rubbing her over the lace and her arousal is starting to soak through the material so you finally rid her of it.

You stand up and remove the rest of your clothes as well but look around, "Wait where's my jacket?"

You spot it on the floor and dig around in the inside pocket pulling a condom out.

"Were you expecting to get laid tonight?" Thea teases as she lifts her chest up to unclip her bra and tosses it aside.

"Not at all but it's always better to be prepared right," you chuckle, taking the condom out and rolling it on.

You reposition yourself back on top of her, spreading her legs apart and settling in between them.

Thea gasps when you ease the tip of your cock inside her, slowly pushing it the rest of the way in.

"Does this feel okay?" You ask and she nods.

You give a few rolls of your hips so she has a chance to adjust before you find a more steady rhythm.

She throws her head back, her chest in the air so you take the opportunity to nip at her neck and collarbones.

"Just like that," she moans, grasping at the sheets under her.

After a few minutes she feels her release approaching and reaches down, rubbing firm circles over her clit.

"I'm so close," she groans.

"Me too," you grunt, picking up the pace.

With just a few more thrusts Thea is cumming, her walls tightening around your cock and her eyes rolling back.

Seeing her like this takes you over the edge as well, riding out your highs together.

After cleaning yourselves up you're blissfully laying naked in her bed, a sheet loosely around your waists with her head on your chest when there's an urgent knocking on her door.

"Thea make yourself decent quickly, Diggle just called and Oliver's been in a motorcycle accident we need to go to the hospital right away," her mother says through the door with an obvious worry in her voice.

"Oh my god," Thea says, jumping out of bed and grabbing her clothes off the floor.

"Hey, what can I do for you?" You ask trying to comfort her as you both get redressed.

Thea opens her door surprised to see her mom is still standing there.

"Y/N you can help by seeing our guests out after we leave," Moira says.

"Of course Mrs. Queen," you say awkwardly, pulling your suit jacket on and kissing Thea's forehead before heading downstairs.

"Walter is bringing the car around," Moira says as they follow suit, "and Thea dear fix your dress, I do hope you two were using protection in there."

"Mom now is not the time for that!" Thea yelps in embarrassment realizing her dress is still half unzipped.

Well this certainly was the most eventful holiday Thea has had in a long time.

[waltermis]

Okay, Well I Guess That’s It Then

MASTERLIST ↠ LAUREL LANCE MASTERLIST↠ NATASHA ROMANOFF MASTERLIST

Part 1 : Mistake

Summary: Arrowverse x MCU Crossover. Two years after you found out that Laurel was cheating on you, you run into her again. In front of your apartment door.

Warnings: no happy ending for Laurel and reader, Natasha’s boobs cause that needs to be a warning

Pairings: Laurel Lance x reader (past), Natasha Romanoff x reader (present)

↠↠↠ 

Knock knock knock

You groaned as you lifted your head off your favorite pillow. Looking at the front door, you heard the knocking continue. You got up from your spot on the couch, wondering who was knocking at your door at the time. Opening the door, you felt your heart clench at the sight of emerald green eyes, dirty blond hair, and sculpted cheekbones.

“Hi…” Laurel said, her voice just below a whisper.

“Laurel…” You were surprised, you hadn’t seen her in two years. Not since the night you found her in bed with her ex. 

After you had kicked her out, you had called Sara Lance, Laurel’s sister and your best friend. When she found out what happened, Sara was furious. She helped you get through the next week of your break up, letting you stay in her apartment before you had decided to move away. Sara had agreed, knowing how difficult it would be for you once you returned to the apartment you and Laurel had once shared. 

You decided that you would move to New York, hoping to get a fresh start. And you did, because just barely settling into your new life, you had become friends with the Avengers. You had been called by a friend of yours, Bruce Banner. He called saying that he needed your expertise to help stitch up Steve Rogers, Captain America, who had been stabbed in the stomach by a three inch metal rod. The rod had miraculously missed all of his internal organs so you knew that he would recover in no time.

And now, here you were, standing in your loft, staring at the woman who broke your heart into a million pieces.

“How’ve you been?” She looked down, avoiding eye contact as she toyed with the rings on her fingers.

“‘How’ve you been?’ Really? That’s what you’re gonna ask me right now…” You said, leaning your body against your door frame. You crossed your arms over your chest and kept your guard up.

“I know… that’s the dumbest thing to say, but I got nervous… and you know that when I get nervous I start to ramble and when I start to ramble I never sto–” 

You cut her off before she could continue with her ‘speech’. “Why are you here?” You were tired; you had just gotten back from an 18 hour surgery at the hospital and all you wanted to do was bundle up in your fluffiest blanket and your favorite pillows.

“I wanted to see you…”

“Look, Dinah.” You made sure to emphasize the use of her first name, knowing she hated that name. “I just came back from an incredibly long surgery and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t just give a half truth. So let me ask you again; why are you here?”

“I really did want to see you… and I miss you. I was hoping that maybe… we could give this another try?” Laurel asked, hopefully. You looked into her eyes in disbelief, the same eyes that you used to love gazing into now made you feel anger and sadness. Even if it had been 2 years since you’d seen Laurel, it didn’t mean that the hurt had completely dissipated. After all, you had been with her for 3 years before you caught her sleeping with her ex-boyfriend, Oliver Queen.

“What happened to Oliver?” Your voice was cold, your eyes sharp as you stared at her.

“We… didn’t work out,” you raised an eyebrow at her.

“So, he cheated on you?” Laurel nodded sheepishly.

“Well, I would say that I’m surprised but I’m really not…”

“Can we just talk? Please… I wanna give us a second chance.”

“There is no more us, Lance. We died the minute you decided to sleep with Oliver.” You rolled your eyes in annoyance; every second you spent talking to her made your blood boil more.

“Please…”

“Why? So I can be your rebound until the next best thing comes along?”

“No… it’s not like that! I would never do that to you!” Laurel weakly defended.

“Well you did, 3 years ago. When you first jumped into bed with that man.” Laurel looked ready to burst into tears. “Okay well, lemme ask you this. If I hadn’t caught you… that night, would you have ever told me?” Laurel hesitated, and you got your answer. “Okay, well I guess that’s it then.” You placed your hand on the doorknob, going to close the door.

“No, Y/N wait!”

“Wait for what?! Another apology? Another excuse? Or what… you're gonna give me another pathetic reason why you went back to him?!”

“It’s not like that!”

“I don’t care! You cheated on me! For a year! And now you’re telling me that you were never even gonna tell me?” Laurel stayed quiet, she didn’t know what else to say.

“I’m sorry,” She said, tears running down her face.

“No! You don’t get to cry right now! You were the one who went and slept with Oliver Queen behind my back!”

“Sunshine please!”

Your heart ached at the nickname. Even if you were over Laurel, it didn’t mean that the nickname didn’t hurt. “Don’t call me that. You lost that privilege. I want you to go away, Laurel. Don’t come back and don’t find me again.”

“Y/N…”

“Is there a problem here?” Your head snapped back as you looked behind you. Your eyes softened at the sight of your girlfriend. Her hair was slightly disheveled and she was rubbing her eyes but you thought she looked beautiful.

“Who are you?” Laurel asked, her eyes crinkled together. You didn’t like how her eyes trailed over your girlfriend, judging her every move.

“Natasha Romanoff, her girlfriend. Who are you?” Natasha replied coldly, walking menacingly over to the two of you.

“Oh… you’re dating an Avenger?”

“Yeah…” You answered. “She’s my girlfriend,” You looked back at Natasha, your heart bursting with love as you saw her protective side come out.

“I didn’t know that you were dating someone…” Laurel said, the pain in the eyes evident.

“You didn’t need to know that…” You answered sharply.

“How long have you been together?” Laurel asked.

“A year and a half…” You said, dismissively. 

“I’m gonna ask you again, and you better not ignore me this time. Who… are… you?” Natasha pressed further.

“Nat, this is Laurel Lance. My ex…”

“That ex?”

“Yeah…” You nodded, hoping that she caught your silent cry for help. And you thanked god that she did, as her forest green eyes turned dark.

“Leave… We don’t need you here ruining our night in.” Natasha said, before she slammed the door in Laurel’s face.

You squealed as Natasha tossed your body over her shoulder and brought the two of you back over to the couch where Brooklyn Nine Nine was still paused. You buried your face into Nat’s boobs as you finally let yourself relax.

“God you love my boobs,” Natasha laughed, running her hand through your hair.

“How can I not? They’re like little pillows.” You said, your face pressed into them.

“I’m pretty sure that this is the only reason you’re with me right now.” Natasha joked.

“I will neither confirm nor deny that.” You sighed, leaning your entire body on top of her.

“I love you…” Natasha said, tightening her hold on you.

“I love you too, Nat… You are so much better than anyone else. And I don’t want anyone else.” You kissed her gently before pressing play on the TV, your worries washing away the more time you spent with Nat.

↠↠↠ 

1163 words

Part 1 : Mistake

[longwuzhere]

Some cool Easter eggs I caught watching My Adventures with Superman that I want to show to people so they can be in on it with comic book readers

Episode 1 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 2 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 3 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 5 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 6 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 7 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here and here

Episode 9 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 10 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

Apologies for the late posts, A LOT happened like Arleen Sorkin's passing and Kamen Rider Geats ending. So I needed to take a break, but I am back. SPOILERS if you havent seen episode 8 obviously.

We start things off with the captured villains letting out of their prison. We got Silver Banshee, Roundhouse, Heatwave, Livewire, and then eventually we seen Ivo/Parasite and Mist who luckily escaped and is trying to get his friend and sister back. I talked more about in their respective episodes so if you want to read up more about them click on their names.

Task Force X/Suicide Squad is known for exploding the heads of their prisoners teammates if they fuck up a mission (you might have seen it in the live action movies, animated movies, or even read the comics) and MAwS solution to not have it be so gory is to use shock collars.

Cut to Clark who developed super hearing and has not slept for a few days and is on caffeine so he can help the people of Metropolis. The idea of Superman 24/7 has been thrown around in the comics for a while usually saying no Clark deserves a break. He needs to be Clark and not Superman when he can get the chance. If you want to check out the comics that does it I recommend reading Superman #296 to 299 (1979), Who Took the Super out of Superman by writers,Cary Bates, Elliot S. Maggins, penciler, Curt Swan, inker, Bob Oskner, colorist, Carl Gafford, and letterer Ben Oda.

We see in the hologram projector/data sphere thing that Lois took from the League of Lois Lane's displaying Overman wrecking the city. I talked more about him here

We then see Perry asking Lois to help out with Vicki Vale who is asked to be a guest writer on the Daily Planet, we later see in the ep that she's got ulterior motives for this. I talked a bit about her here. In the comics Vicki is usually a journalist for the Gotham Gazette and is sometimes in a relationship with Bruce Wayne. Her comic counterpart is usually very ethical when it comes to journalism much like Lois Lane, but here in MAwS, she's very conniving. Never meet your heroes sometimes I guess, huh MAwS Lois?

Lois talks about the things Vicki wrote for the Gazette and name drops Queen Industries. If you know your DC universe, that is the last name of Oliver Queen aka Green Arrow.

Oliver Queen and Roy Harper aka Speedy, make their first appearance in More Fun Comics #73 (1941) co-created by Mort Weisinger and George Papp who did the panel here. Robin Hood was an obvious inspiration for Oliver in terms of design but also his ethics in a sense. Despite the wealth, Oliver would be left wing and fight for the people arguably more so than Bruce Wayne. You can see in the panel that Oliver doesn't have his signature goatee you'll see that happen later when Neal Adams pencils Ollie in the Brave and the Bold #85 (1969)

who also redesigned Ollies costume too. Check out Green Lantern/Green Arrow series to see Oliver's liberal stances on what was going on in the world in the early 1980s. Nowadays, Oliver's been redesigned to to wear a hood instead of the Robin Hood cap, but he's still the left wing hero that we adore

Fantastic cover to the 80 years of Green Arrow hardcover book by Jim Lee, Scott Williams, and Alex Sinclair.

The Falcones get a mention as one of the stories Vicki Vale wrote about. The Falcones make their first appearance in Batman #405 (1987) created by Frank Miller and David Mazzucchelli in the Batman Year One storyline.

The man with the pipe in the second panel, by Frank Miller, David Mazzucchelli, Richmond Lewis, and Todd Klein, is the head of the head of the Falcones, Gotham's biggest mob family, Carmine "the Roman" Falcone. He and his family gets expanded explored in Batman: The Long Halloween. Both it and Batman Year One are fantastic reads, highly recommended.

The Gotham Gazette, and in a roundabout way, Gotham, gets a name drop from Perry White. The paper make its first appearance in Batman #4 (1940) and Vicki Vale is employed by them as the photojournalist.

Perry asks Lois and Jimmy to help Vicki out with a story about smearing Superman and they decide to interview people. First up is Captain Immonen who Clark saved in episode 3. The captain's last name is a reference to...

comic book artist, Stuart Immonen. He's worked on various Superman-related titles like Action Comics or the Adventures of Superman.

Probably the Superman book I enjoyed his work in, and highly recommend checking out for everyone who reads this is, Superman: Secret Identity (cover art here by Stuart Immonen) with writer Kurt Busiek about a teen who happens to be named Clark Kent in his world where there are no superheroes, only in the comic books, but somehow slowly develops powers on his own. Very cool non-canon story that is a fresh take on the Superman mythology.

The next interviewee I have to assume based on the credits at the end of the episode is, Mrs. Quietly who is a reference to...

comic book artist, Frank Quitely. You may know his name on the New X-Men with Grant Morrison, but in terms of Superman, he was the penciler for All-Star Superman (cover by Frank Quitely and Jamie Grant)...

the comic series that got an animated movie adaptation and will be the inspiration for the upcoming Superman: Legacy live action movie. The book has Superman dying thanks to Luthor and has Clark live out his final days saving the world and the future in a sense one last time. It's a great read! And speaking of Grant Morrison...

Grant Morrison got their reference through the name of a pawn shop in Metropolis.

Grant Morrison, fantastic writer, has worked on a lot of comics. As mentioned before Morrison worked with Frank Quitely on New X-Men but in terms of Superman, is best known for writing All-Star Superman with Quitely. Both have also worked on Batman and Robin together and equally great series if you want to see Dick Grayson as Batman try to wrangle in Damian Wayne as Robin.

We see Lex Luthor Alex here as the final interviewee who says Superman is a menace for ruining his job and destroyed the building he worked in. Will he lose his hair and go into business? I don't know, but when Alex gets a confirmed last name, most likely Luthor, I'll take more about him.

Later in the episode we seen screen names, LoriLemaris59 and Bibbo87 streaming videos of Superman getting his but handed to him by Task Force X. Both names are references to characters in the Superman comics.

Lori Lemaris first appeared in Superman #129 (1959) by Bill Finger, Wayne Boring, and Stan Kaye. She and Clark met in college where she posed as a wheelchair-using student and both took interest in each other, however when they're out on dates, Lori would cut the date short because of her mermaid nature. Clark tried to propose to her, but she turned him down because both are from two different worlds and it wouldn't work out. She also knew Clark was Superman because her people could read minds but she's totally cool with keeping it a secret for him. Jimmy, in MAwS, mentioned mermaids, but I did not want to point it out until we get a Lori Lemaris reference in and lo and behold it came true! The other name is a reference to Bibbo Bibbowski one of the supporting cast for Superman.

Bibbo Bibbowski makes his first appearance in the Adventures of Superman #428 (1987) by Marv Wolfman, Jerry Ordway, Tom Ziuko, and John Costanza. Superman arrives at the Ace O' Club's bar asking for information on Perry White's son, Jerry who was kidnapped. Bibbo, thinking Superman is just some guy in a costume punches Superman, gets his hand busted, and finds a new respect for him.

As mentioned before Task Force X is out to capture Superman as he and Mist try to save his sister and friend, but it turns out they are more than willing get revenge on Superman for their freedom. Even though in this universe they are Task Force X, a majority of the team is made up of Superman villains so in a sense you can make an argument that this is a Superman Revenge Squad. The first use of the team name is from the silver age, in Superman #94 (1961) where the squad was a group of aliens. The Superman villains teaming up together to get revenge on Superman first appeared in the Adventures of Superman #543 (1997). Parasite (Rudy Jones), who was part of that team, shares names with a Superman villain in MAwS here.

I think someone on the MAwS team is a fan of the X-Men arcade game cuz Livewire flies the same way Magneto does in that game.

Again very sorry for the delay in this, but if you made it this far down, be sure to check out my other posts about the easter eggs in My Adventures with Superman:

Episode 1 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 2 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 3 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 4 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 5 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 6 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 7 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here and here

Episode 9 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

Episode 10 of My Adventures with Superman Easter Eggs and references is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 1 post is here

My Easter eggs and references in My Adventures with Superman comic issue 2 post is here

My Easter eggs and references for My Adventures with Superman comic issue 3 post is here

[thedepthsoffandomminds]

Episode nine - Returning

Jack Dawkins x fem reader.

Post series.

A/n : this is a short part.

It took six days for your father to sign the pardon for Jack and further three days for him to be released. On your sister's command Sneed made sure Jack's job in the royal hospital was waiting for him. The moment he stepped into your room a smile drew long across your face.

"Why are you still here?" He asks you, sitting on the bed beside you.

"I will not return to that house." You reply, "Sneed is securing me my own residence, in town."

"I didn't want to come between you and your family." He says holding your hand.

"Jack, I haven't seen you in nine days, please do not make this about my family." You grin. Jack laughs, bringing himself down to kiss you.

"I've missed you." He sighs.

There is a knock on the door and Hetty pokes her head inside.

"Doctor Dawkins. I'm glad you're back. The governor is here to see you."

Jack closes his eyes in annoyance. He lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles.

"I'll be back soon, my love." He whispers. You watch him leave you.

The Governor stands in the Prof's office talking with the prof. Jack knocks on the door. Alistair beckons him in and excuses himself.

"I wanted to meet you as soon as possible. I apologise for the formalities taking so long. Now we are here I have some things to go through with you." He gestures to the other chair and the two men sit.

"I should thank you, sir, for the pardon." Jack says. Edmund waves his hand dismissing the comment.

"Now lad, you should know my youngest daughter Fanny is still in Port Victory. As is your childhood friend Oliver Twist. We have the young man in custody. It would appear it was he who stole the gold. He told me some very unsavoury things about yourself."

"Governor, I was a child-"

"Please, it was the reason it took so long. I have written to the queen and explained my reasons for giving you a full and complete pardon of all your crimes. Your dedication to the royal navy and this colony has been exemplary"

Jack feels a weight lift from his shoulders at the news.

"secondly, my daughter is utterly taken by you. What are your feelings for her?"

"Sir, I have never felt for anyone the way I feel for y/n. She is the light in my life." Jack answers.

"Good, do you intend to ask for her?" The question takes shim back

"I would be honoured to simply be in her life, but if you think she would say yes to me?" Jack's eyes widen with hope.

"Oh, the fuss she put up for you I'd say she would, a thousand times." The governor chuckles.

"I took the pleasure of finding this out for you." He places a small box on the desk, "It belonged to my mother and y/n has long admired it. Should the moment arrive, perhaps this might seal the deal."

Jack picked up the box and looked inside. It was a silver band with a large emerald set in the top. Jack thought about how this was the exact thing he would look out for to steal as a child.

"Thank you." He breaths out sliding the box into his waistcoat pocket.

"Lastly, I am changing the contact of your position here. You will no longer be an unpaid doctor. There will be a wage paid to you directly and a house. Not a grand one but for the time being it will suffice."

"I don't want charity?" Jack began.

"well I should expect so, luckily this is not coming from me. It was Doctor Sneed who convinced us of this change. He implored that a .an as great as you deserved a real salary. The information is all in this envelope. I do hope you live up to our expectations Doctor." Edmund stood up and held his hand out towards Jack. Not completely sure what had just happened jack made his way back to your room. Sneed was sat beside you l, his fingers checking the pulse in your wrist.

"How is she doing, Doctor?" He asked, closing the door behind him. Sneed glanced up at him.

"It's remarkable, in fact, I think it is time you went home." He answered.

"You found me somewhere?" You ask gleefully.

"Yes. I'll give you both a few minutes but you must get some more rest before I send you anywhere." He pats your leg and moves across to Jack, "It really will be an honour to share the head surgeon role with you." He announces. Jack finally understands what happened and shakes his colleagues hand.

"Thank you, likewise."

With a curt nod Sneed left the room, once more you were finally alone with Jack once more. He sat beside you again.

"It will be nice to have my own home, I hope you will stay with me?" You ask. Jack smooths your hair.

"I will sleep beside you forever, but perhaps we should refrain just for a little while, until you're healed." He laughs and kisses you.

"Listen." You pull the stethoscope from your bedside table and hand it to Jack. He gently presses it to your chest and listens. Your heart beat is even and gentle. A perfect display of how the heart works. He didn't hide the emotions that spilled from his eyes.

"I thought you were going to die." He said dropping his head to your chest, his ear replacing the stethoscope. You stroke back his blonde curls.

"You had the chance to run. Fagin gave you that chance." You say.

"I couldn't go anywhere else. I had to see you were alive. Even sat in prison at least I was close to you." He replied, adjusting himself so he was lying beside you. You settle against him and the two of you drift off to sleep.

*_*_*_*

Jack walked out of the hospital with Rainsford by his side.

"we've got a house ready for both of you but I won't release her until it is somewhat official. You may be from the scum of London but we do have decorum here." Sneed laughed.

"Yes, alright. I'll ask her soon." Jack agrees. Laughing he leaves the other doctor where he stood and made his way to the cat and bagpipes. Stepping through the door he was greeted with a round of applause. Rotty walked up to him with a tankard. Everyone was happy he was out of prison and partly responsible for Gaines' demise. Jack spent the evening drinking with Fagin and his other friends. Though he ensured he did not get too drunk. He didn't want to disappoint you by stinking of beer. Fagin sat with him at their usual table.

Nearing midnight Jack gathered his coat and hat and made his way outside. It was a quiet night with a full moon above them. Jack breathed in the fresh air filling his lungs. A white hot pain stopped his breath arms wrapped around him and dragged him away.

*_*_*_*

Fagin ran into the hospital, frantically looking for any help he could. He found Flash and Aputi in your room.

"oh I'm sorry Milady, I need the boys for a moment." He panted at the door.

"You speak to them here." You say with a smile.

Fagin fiddles with his hat before deciding to go on.

"It's Jack, he's been, well I found his hat outside the pup and there was...there was a lot of blood and this." He admitted, handing the small box across to you. Opening the box your heart breaks seeing the ring.

"Someone took him." Fagin finished.

Episode ten

@fandomfan-102 @darasloves @afalls14universe

[mikaelsrose]

Reyna x Tyril Headcanons

A/n: some headcanons are more mature than others, but there's nothing explicit, just a mention. Reader discretion is advised, nonetheless.

REYNA'S BOARD | TYRIL'S BOARD

BASIC INFORMATION

Name: Reyna (House Moonstone, elven Ránasarn)

Meaning of name: “Counsel,” “Queen,” “Pure”

Nickname: Rey-Rey, Reiny, Rey, Rey of Sunshine

Species: Human

Age: 24

Date of birth: April 6

Reyna was born during April’s full moon, often referred to as the Pink Moon. Although the name has nothing to do with the colour of the moon but the bloom of pink moss, being born on this date is considered good luck.  

Orientation: Demisexual ("experiencing sexual feelings and attraction only after developing a close emotional relationship")

Love interest: Tyril Starfury

Weapon of choice: Bows

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

Height: 170 cm (5’7)

Eye colour: Hazel

Skin tone: Pale olive

Hair: Wavy, dark brown/(later) caramel honey blonde

HISTORY

Hometown: Little village north of Port Parnassus; Riverbend 

First memory: The neighbour, Nesta, an elderly meat merchantess, teaching her to weave a flower crown. When the girl failed, Nesta placed her own crown on Reyna's head and invited her and Kade for elk stew. At that time, Reyna was 6, and only started meeting the residents of Riverbend who, although kind, were usually busy with their own affairs and did not pay too much attention to the farmer’s new orphans, which is why Reyna remembered the merchantess as kind, considerate, and a maternal figure. She tries to visit her grave at least once a year to leave a bouquet of flowers and talk to her, hoping Nesta can still hear her.   

Religion: Having grown up the way she did, Reyna was never properly introduced to any religion, and until she met Nia, she believed the stories about the Light were just that—stories. Despite discovering the gift in herself, she did not consider herself religious or spirited until she escaped the Shadow Realm and learned that Tyril reconnected with the elven gods. Desperate and lost, she began to pray with him every other night, until she memorised the formula, finding comfort and reassurance in the repetitive, calming activity.  

FAMILY

Parents: Althea (birth mother), Melvys of House Moonstone (birth father), Vrann (adoptive father)

In the year of Reyna's absence, Tyril and Kade would spend many hours together in the library searching for clues and potential leads that would, hopefully, take them to the Shadow Realm. After two months of scrutinous daily work, Kade stumbled across an ornate, although worn-out, journal that drew his attention so much that he stayed up all night accompanying Tyril. At that point, it was only an unverified journal, but the information it contained was groundbreaking for his sister. The title page was covered in elegant, ornate handwriting that Tyril recognised as the same calligraphy, and even the same ink, used by the elves of Undermount that stated: "Abridged History of House Ránasarn. Property of Lord Melvys of House Ránasarn." From the journal they learned that the owner, Lord Melvys, was the son of an exiled couple of House Moonstone, he married a tutoress from Port Parnassus, and they settled down near the outskirts of Riverbend in a modest but homey house. The couple had two children—a boy, Ásvaldr, and a girl—Reyna. They lived modestly but were never hungry or dirty, Lord Melvys was never bitter about the elves’ treatment of his father, although he was falsely accused of practising shadow magic and even dabbling in necromancy and exiled without trial. House Moonstone ceased to exist once the only heir was exiled. According to the author, the couple was very happy, and the children were healthy, polite, and very protective of each other. The last entry was entirely devoted to Lord Melvys’ thoughts and speculations about his daughter who, as he believed, was capable of magic which is only natural for elves (and their descendants), even though Reyna (unlike her brother) took entirely after her human mother. Melvys himself never used magic as nobody taught him and his father refused to do it after his exile, but he knew he had the gift. 

Siblings: Kade (adoptive brother), Ásvaldr (birth brother)

PERSONALITY

Qualities: adventurous, courageous, persistent, sensitive, broad-minded, charismatic, compassionate, impatient, quick-witted, opinionated, and at times snappy

Nervous ticks: tugging at her earlobes or the front strands of her hair 

Mannerisms: biting her lower lip, drumming fingers on a surface, hugging as a greeting, standing with arms crossed or hands on hips, Northern accent reminiscent of Low Elven

HEADCANONS

Although she used to use her seduction skill often, once Tyril and her started flirting she refrained from using it, which resulted in her mastering the charisma skill. 

Tyril is Reyna's first boyfriend—despite making out with the mayor's son, she didn't want to go further as she believed the relationship was pointless and didn't feel right. She ended things between them the day after they were caught, and focused on her work and supporting Kade ever since. 

Despite growing up in Riverbend and not having any particularly bad memories from there, she hopes she'll never have to live there again. Ideally, she'd love to settle down in Whitetower near her friends or with Tyril in Undermount. 

Before setting out on the adventure, she worked at a tavern as a waitress and taught archery a few days a week. She also voluntarily aided Kade with writing his ballads and securing performances. 

The murder of her parents always heavily bore on her heart and she would spend countless hours in the local library and talking with people all over town in search of any information, unfortunately without any luck. 

Reyna treats Adrina as her own sister. When the group visited Undermount, Adrina swung by her room one evening to chat, and they ended up gossiping all night, bonding almost immediately. 

She often thinks of Tyril's dad's words ("You remind me of an old friend"), wondering if the information she gained from an elderly couple living in the southern part of Riverbend was true. The woman, Sereia, told her that back in the day a young couple with a small girl and a bit older boy would sometimes visit and spend time in the nearby woods, that they were incredibly polite but one day they just stopped coming.

Despite living close to a forest and often chasing Kade with a bug in her hands as a child, Reyna's terrified of spiders and bats. 

As a kid, she was bullied. It was when Kade got very sick and couldn't attend school, and she was left to fend for herself. Reyna used to be shy and kept to herself, which is what made her an easy target, and since her older brother wasn't there to protect her, she became the target of a well-known bully. 

TYRIL HEADCANONS

Tyril’s 196cm (6’5) tall. Reyna can (and does, occasionally) climb him like a tree. 

He swears. When he's annoyed by someone (Mal), he calls that person (Mal) an idiot in elven. There is so much anger in him that I will never believe he doesn't swear. 

Although he's fluent in Common, he sometimes forgets certain words and becomes very frustrated. That's when he tends to swear most often. 

He has an accent. It's been my headcanon for years that the residents of Undermount speak with an RP British accent when speaking Common, which is just a bit more posh version of the accent of the Valleros family, but I imagine he has a slight Elven accent as well, especially with words that have the "th" fricative. The reason for that is simple—there is no such sound in Elven, and they tend to struggle with this consonant, which they usually pronounce as a hard "t."

Elves' ears twitch when they are happy, relaxed, excited, or try to hear low noise. They are also very sensitive to touch. 

Given how old he is and that he's an important noble in Undermount, and that he himself admitted he used to be stuck up, harsh, and opportunistic, I think it's fair to say he took advantage of the romantic advances of other noblewomen. The headcanon is that Tyril is sexually experienced, which fits into the idea that elves are not sexually monogamous.

Tyril is…concupiscent. Look, he is young, attractive, and has the means. This headcanon actually dates back to 2021, and at this point, I treat it as canon. 

Before he left Undermount, he used to be a very pious adherent of Light. Tyril would spend a lot of time in the Starfury Manor's Chapel of Light, praying, meditating, or simply relaxing in its serenity. Until Reyna's disappearance, he never asked for anything, aware that Gods are not djinns who exist to listen to his alms and make his wishes come true; however, in his desperation, he begged them on his knees for help, for any sign she was still alive. When his hope waned, he continued meditating, although in a manner reminiscent of the one pre-exile. However, he always remembered to end every meditation with a short prayer for Reyna. 

After his partner's kidnapping, he used to struggle with nightmares. When he went back to Undermount after three months of research in the capital, he would stay up as long as possible to avoid seeing the images of Reyna suffering. He could resolve this problem with a simple spell, but he also felt guilty for not being able to help her, which is why he endured it without a word. He had to be reminded to eat, and some days even forced by his little sister—and as much as it pained her to see her brother in such a state, she knew forcing him to eat and look for positives was vital to keep him alive.

Tyril is a total boob guy. 

RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

Reyna used to worry a lot about not being good enough for Tyril, given that he's a wealthy, very well-educated noble, and she's just a commoner from a small town, and Tyril would reassure her until she finally believed him that he doesn't care about their titles. 

They kissed for the first time while stargazing at the edge of Deadwood. That's when they couldn't deny the chemistry between them any more and just went for it. 

Tyril never goes to sleep before Reyna, he always has to make sure she's safe and isn't bothered by any nightmares before he can relax himself.

Tyril is the most likely to sleep either half-naked or completely naked, even when it’s cold. He is also the least likely to feel cold out of the whole group—he says it’s the chilly Undermount weather that toughens the elves up.

They’re still in the honeymoon phase of their relationship, aka lots of laughs, happiness, intimacy, and wanting to spend every second of the day together.  

They always fight for the duvet, since Tyril is a notorious duvet-stealer. Reyna, on the other hand, is a notorious butt-slapper. 

The evening after Kaya’s burial, Tyril asked Reyna to join him and his family for a prayer vigil, and that’s when they got to know each other better. Before Tyril went to his room, his dad pulled him aside and told him he had made a good choice. Tyril got flustered at the time, but when Reyna offered to spend the night with him and ended up comforting him until they fell asleep, he realised how right his father was. 

(I headcanon that the last chapter of book 1 and the first chapter of book 2 are a week apart, not a day) After coming back from the Shadow Realm and having attended the official audience with the king, Reyna got really sick. She did not think much of it at first, but Imtura pointed out that perhaps she was not just sick, and having done her maths, Reyna had a serious pregnancy scare. It turned out to be just an ugly case of the flu, caused by the pile-up of stressful events she’d experienced. To this day, Imtura and Tyril are the only ones to know about it.

Tag list: @starlight-starfury @cashweasel @brycesgirl @lazypartridge @watatsumi-island @sophie-summer @lilyoffandoms @agattthaa @secret-fungi @megas-choices @erixafleur @mila-bee @choicesficwriterscreations @choicesbookclub @choicesoctober (if you wish to be added/removed, let me know!)

[just-some-random-blogger]

Green With Envy (& Oliver)

Dream of the Endless x Wayne!Reader + Oliver Queen x Wayne!Reader, Bruce Wayne & Sister!Reader

Summary: Dream didn't like the way you laughed at Oliver's jokes, just as Bruce never liked him in the first place. Finally some common ground.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: Fem!reader, Jealous!Dream, overprotective big bro!Bruce, annoyingly endearing!Oliver, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: gif is oliver bonking dream and bruce running in the background HAHHHAH (taken from pinterest) Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @shadow-pancake9 My previous bat!sis fic: "Vengance & Nightmares" (you don't need to read it to get this one tho, although there is a scene here that references a scene in the linked fic)

There was a certain crispiness in the air, a certain brand of icy that was frosting Dream's shoulders. If looks could kill, the dumb blonde would have dropped dead on the spot.

The night had been off to a great start. I had taken Morpheus by the arm to the gala as a plus one. I were fabulously dressed, the olive dress clung on my body like a second skin, my blue pumps elevated me with power, and my pink lipstick framed my smile perfectly. The scent of me, I knew, had my date in a trance. Good.

Dream had been apprehensive about attending the event since I mentioned it to him, and I did my best to keep him reassure him. An hour in the gala, I managed to make him smile at my compliments to his genteelness and poise. He was even helping me win over some potential partners

But then this smirking, three piece wearing, sunglasses clad oaf walked in, and the Dream practically snapped out of nowhere.

"Wayne!" I hear a call. I only turn when the caller adds my first name.

My uninterested look turns when I see the caller. "Ollie!" I exclaim, releasing my grip on Dream as I jump into the blonde's arms. Oliver chuckles, spinning me around as he seals his arms around me.

The Endless tenses and begins to feel something unsavory rise inside him.

When we pull away, I press on his arms, "you've been working out."

Dream watches how his hands fall.

Oliver's hands are on my waist as he smirks at me, "and you haven't."

I scoff and roll my eyes in offence, shoving him off. He pulls away and chuckles, raising his hands in defeat, "I jest, I jest," he turns to his side, lips still curved upward in amusement, "who's this?"

"Ollie, this is-" I don't get to continue as I am pulled backward.

Dream places an iron clad grip is on my hip. I am crushed so tightly against him that I have no choice but to reach out to him to keep my balance. His voice practically echoes in the expanse of the room when he mutters, "Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmares, Prince of Stories, Shaper of Forms."

The ground shakes upon the utterance of these works. People look out in the room and mutter 'is that an earthquake' before going about there business when the seismic shifts halt.

I turn to Dream, concerned over his hardened features. I turn back to Oliver, seeing he is still in the amused state he was in before, frozen into an unsure smile. He pushes his shades down, raising a brow, relaxing his shoulders, "nice."

He extends a hand out to Dream, which he does not take.

"Dream," I call softly. It does nothing.

Oliver is undeterred and instead opts to slap a hand on his shoulder, "not a handshake guy. I respect that."

Dream's jaw clenches, "who are you?"

It's a ridiculous question, since Dream knew literally everyone. My lips curl. I know exactly where this was going.

"Me?" Oliver smirks, raising a hand up for dramatics. He pulls his shades off, but doesn't get to answer; someone beats him to it.

"Oliver Queen," another voice calls, averting all our attentions to the side. Bruce walks over, adjusting the cuff of his suit, as he turns to Oliver, "I saw your signature in the latest green energy association. I was glad to see it."

Ollie chuckles, "as I live and breathe. A compliment from Dracula himself."

"It's not a compliment," Bruce and I speak at the same time. My brother turns to me, then blinks to mask the fact he was bothered by how I was mushed against Dream. He decides not to note on it, and instead, pats Dream stiffly on the shoulder, "share a drink with me."

It wasn't a question. Dream, eyes still on Oliver, rejects the proposal anyway, "I do not care to drink."

Bruce gives me a look. I wordlessly respond by pressing my lips, and muttering against Dream's ear, "can you get me a drink, please, baby?"

He softens a fraction against me, only to turn to me. I take the opportunity to pry his hand against him and he tenses, this time shifting on his place, concerned like a puppy being driven away.

"I'm up for a drink," Oliver says coolly, raising his hand, "and I can get you one too, Wayne," he says, raising a finger to me, "sex on the beach?"

Dream snaps at Oliver. He steps forward, looking like he was ready to brawl, "what?"

"It's the name of the drink," I mutter, grabbing Dream. I turn to Oliver, "one that I have grown out of liking."

"Hey," Oliver shrugs, "I love me a good cocktail just like the next sorority chick."

"I think four beers are enough," Bruce says, grabbing Dream by the arm, wheeling him past us. Honestly, I am surprised by my brother's strength. Dream does not forfeit a glare directed at Ollie as he is pulled away against his will.

"Your boy toy's get weirder and weirder, babe," Ollie casually mutters, stepping closer to me.

"I heard that," Dream seethes, wrangling out of Bruce's grip, only to get caught again.

Bruce clutches him tighter this time.

I roll my eyes at Oliver, pinching his side, making him yelp. He pulls back in pain, "that's so grade school!"

"You still act like we're in grade school."

"Aha," he leans down to me, "except we were classmates in high school."

"Four beers please," Bruce calls to the bartender as he shoves Dream down next to him.

Dream glares at Bruce as he sits down next to him, "I'm only here so that man cannot give her sex on the beach."

Bruce physically cringes, "shut up." He wipes his face, "you going to get used to this if you want to be around her."

"I plan on doing no such thing."

"Well, then I'm glad you're her not boyfriend," Bruce leans on the bar.

I move to poke Oliver's eyes, but he knew me too well and caught my hand before I could make contact. He pulls back as he grabs me, laughing as he gives me a look, "still stinky and mean as ever."

I rip my hand away, "and you're still annoying and stupid."

"At least I shower."

"Oh," I raise my brows and frown, "how unfortunate of you to think lathering yourself in axe body spray counts a shower."

Oliver's brow quirks a fraction. I catch it nonetheless and smirk.

"This is a niche brand that even you don't know," he points to his chest.

"And I'm glad for it. The frat boys in uni don't even smell like that."

"What are you doing smelling frat boys in uni?" he narrows his eyes.

"Inspiring the next generation," I tilt my head, "what are you doing smelling like like a loser?"

Oliver grinds his teeth. He releases a breath, "I don't miss you at all."

I break into a fit of laughs, "oh, you don't have to lie, baby," I then mockingly kiss him on the cheek. He recoils sharply and wipes the lipstick stain of his skin with disdain.

"Heel!" Bruce pulls back Dream when bursts from his seat upon seeing the affections across the bar.

"She kissed him!" he barks, growling as he swats Bruce's arm off his coat.

"You know how she is," Bruce releases him. "Are you going to fault her for being affectionate and mockingly kissing her highschool friend?"

Dream snaps at him, "mockingly?"

Bruce rolls his eyes, "you do know she likes you and not everyone is in love with her." The voice of his little sister saying the same words about herself when Bruce chided her about having too many boy friends rings in his mind.

Damn it.

The same voice calls, 'I'm always right.'

Dream replies the same way Bruce did to the 14 year old at the time, "why wouldn't I assume someone with her light would draw people in who'd love to take liberties?"

Bruce sighs, "you care so much."

"I do," Dream blurts, "as should you. Some hooligan is groping your sister!"

An exaggeration.

Bruce actually breaks into a chuckle. Dream turns red with anger.

Now Bruce hears his butler's voice in his mind, 'you two are quite alike, sir'.

Shut up.

"What an old man thing to say," he leans on the table, "I bet she roasts you for that so much."

"It matters little to me what name we have for our relations. What matters is she is by my side and not," Dream looks off to the distance, "with someone who chortles like a fool."

"Look," Bruce raises a hand, "the feeling is mutual, my lord. I have never liked how familiar her and Queen are, but you need to know-" he points a finger, "-she's her own person. She's not gonna suddenly change just because you want her to."

"I do not wish to change her," Dream mutters, "I wish to swat insects like him."

Bruce sighs just as the bartender finally arrives with the 4 beers.

He doesn't get it.

'You don't get it!' the memory of his sister complaining plays in his head, 'you're too old and ugly to understand that I'm just sweet and affectionate!'

I get it. Enough.

Bruce hands Dream a beer and the latter instinctively takes it. Bruce stands and knocks his bottle against his, "come on."

Dream brings a storm cloud with him as they make their way back from the bar.

"Ah, Lord of Nightmares," Ollie smiles.

"King," Dream corrects, gripping the bottle in his hand.

My eyes are fixed on him as Bruce hands me a beer. I take it, as well as Dream's, since I knew he was not going to drink it anyway. Also, he looked like he was moments away from crushing it in his hand.

"Oh, sorry," Oliver corrects, "King of Nightmares... and Dreams, right?" He purses his lips in thought, "what do I call you again?"

"Oliver," I snap at the blonde, "quit it."

"What?!" Oliver takes the other beer from me, "I'm only asking. I can't call him boy toy #1-O-2, now can I?"

Dream's eye twitches and he grabs the bottle in Oliver's hand, the one he took from me that was in his grips in the first place.

"You don't need to call him anything," I take Dream by the arm, "we're going to take a breather."

Oliver chuckles and waves as I lead Dream away from the crowd. Oliver turns to Bruce and knocks his bottle against his, "say, are you attending that expo in Metropolis?"

Bruce purses his lips, "I'd really rather not."

"Not a fan of the supe?" he grins, "I'm sure he'd give Gotham's favorite child a selfie if you bat your lashes real nice."

"Good night, Queen."

Dream and I wind up at the balcony. I regret it slightly because of the smell of cigarettes, but it's bearable once I cover the ash tray.

"Okay," I turn to Dream, grabbing the bottle from him, placing it down on the table with mine, "you don't like Ollie."

His face is stiff but he nods instantly.

I huff, "I get it. He's unbearable, but he's one of my best friends--"

"I do not enjoy how familiar he is with you, nor the fact you kissed him on the cheek."

I purse my lips, "okay. I'm sorry. I hear you, but I did that to annoy him, not for anything else."

"Yes, it was avidly annoying," he pulls his lips up sourly.

"I didn't mean to upset you," I grab his hand, "but that's just how it's been between us since highschool. It's hard to change a dynamic that's been there since I was a teenager."

He frowns. Take it from him, he knows how difficult change can be.

"Well," he pipes up, "perhaps... you could just... stay by my side... forever."

I raise my brows at his words. I realize he was being dead serious. I cannot help but snort and step forward, placing my arms around his shoulders, "that's a really tall order, King of Nightmares and Dreams."

Dream releases a breath as his hands trail down my waist. He leans his forehead on mine as his grip tightens, "he touched you here."

I knit my brows as I brush my nose up against his, closing my eyes, "did he? I don't remember."

"Very good," he mutters hotly against me, sinking his head down to kiss my neck, "I will immortalize the feel of my touches on your skin in the very core of your being."

"Fuck," I mutter, leaning against him before pulling away, "slow down, kitten," I grunt as I slide my hands down his arms, "I've still got some big time monopoly players to persuade into collaborating for Wayne's Scholarship Programmes."

Dream peers down at me with a pout, pulling me close again, "I will not leave your side."

I chuckle, "I didn't say you would," I pull his hands off me then take one in my own, "I just told you to slow down," I press on the collar of his trench coat, "...save it for later."

He takes my hand, the one by his collar, and kisses it, "I am the very patron of patience."

I snort, "I'll hold you to that."

[mcrdvcks]

You can also read all of my work on AO3.

Anything with a '*' means there is smut.

Star Wars

Series

Down Bad - Hunter x Original Female Jedi Character*

Oneshots

A Moment of Silence - Hunter x fem!reader

Marvel

Series

Project Reverie - 3 part series, including Sweet Dreams

Sweet Dreams - Logan (X-Men) x Original Female Character (platonic relationship)

Oneshots

Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious - Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Sweet Nothing - Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader*

Darkness Masterlist

Includes:

Darkness (Marvel) - Tony Stark Daughter Original Female Character x Original Male Character

Darkness #332 (DC) - Battinson Sister Original Female Character x Original Male Character

Darkness #556 (DC/Arrowverse) - Barry Allen (Arrowverse) Sister Original Female Character x Oliver Queen (Arrowverse) Brother Original Male Character

Note that all the Darkness stories are connected! They contain the same main female character and the same main male character, just in different universes. Read summary for Darkness if still confused.

Prompts

[fandomnerd9602]

Thea Queen x reader and Oliver being protective of Thea?

Oliver: hurt my little sister and I will shoot an arrow where the sun doesn’t shine.

Y/N: my knee? What are we in Skyrim?

Thea: that’s not…Oliver stop scaring them.

Thea grabs Y/N…

Thea: come on let’s go cuddle and watch your favorite movie, baby

[fanfics4all]

Bad Thing Happen Bingo Masterlist!

Made a Lab Rat-

Drowning- Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader

Not Used to Freedom- Glenn Rhee x Fem!Reader

Disowned by Family-

Cradling Someone in Their Arms- Gael Martinez x Sister!Reader

Brainwashing- Lucifer Morningstar x Daughter!Reader

Infected Wound- Carl Grimes x Fem!Reader

Coughing Up Blood- Nick Clark x Fem!Reader

Blackmail- Malachai x Fem!Jones!Reader

Bruises- Alicia Clark x Male!Reader

Fainting- Fangs Fogarty x Fem!Reader

Non-Consensual Touching- Brandon Foster x Fem!Reader

Stalking- Jamie Hunter x Fem!Reader

Drugged- Tommy Merlyn x Fem!Reader

Knife to the Throat- Barry Allen x Fem!Reader

Childhood Trauma-

Hnadcuffed/Manacled- Nicholas Scratch x Fem!Reader 

Blindfolded-

Whipping- John Murphy x Fem!Kane!Reader

Gunshot Wound- Jennifer Jareau x Daughter!Reader

Home Invasion- Cisco Remon x Fem!Deaf!Reader

Buried Alive-

Truth Potion/Serum- Draco Malfoy x Fem!Ravenclaw!Reader

Domestic Abuse- Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Shock Collar- Oliver Queen x Fem!Reader

[atlasalexanderwrites]

Malcolm Merlyn x Queen!Reader Pt. 5

IMAGINE…it’s Moira and Walter’s wedding day, people aren’t as oblivious to your “thing” with Malcolm as you previously believed they were, and after (nearly) two years, you and Malcolm take a step further in your relationship.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this! I’m so excited about getting to events that take place during the first two (ish) seasons of Arrow! ALSO, I such at summaries sooo sorry for the “imagine” line above.

Pt. 1 2 3 4 6 7

WORD COUNT: 3,804

WARNING: None, possible ooc!Malcolm Merlyn

(GIF ISN’T MINE! FOUND ON GOOGLE IMAGE SEARCH!)

Moira and Walter’s wedding ceremony was beautiful. Breathtaking even and you could do nothing but grin like an idiot next to Thea, both of you shedding tears of happiness (and some sadness as Oliver wasn’t alive to be there as well).

The reception was held at your family’s estate and thankfully the weather remained warm and sunny.

“…welcome, thank you for coming.” You and Thea stood under the arch that led to the designated reception area, greeting the guests.

With everyone you smiled at and thanked for coming, your nerves intensified. You knew the Merlyns were invited; they had been at the church after all. You just had no idea where in line they were. There were at least four hundred guests (six hundred at most).

“I am very glad mom went with blue for us. Can you imagine us in the pink?” Thea grumbled in between guests. She was growing impatient – no doubt your fifteen year old sister was ready to mingle with whichever of her friends had shown up.

You couldn’t argue with her; the baby pink dress had been…questionable. No way would Thea have worn it without a fight, and there was no way it would have looked as good as your step-mother had believed at the time.

“Thank you for coming. It means so much to us,” you smiled, hugging a few women you knew were companions of Moira.

And then you caught sight of Malcolm and Tommy. They were six people back, dressed in black with near matching ties (no doubt, Tommy had been coerced into wearing his by something fast and expensive).

Soon enough they were standing in front of you with Thea giggling Tommy’s name and hugging him while you greeted the CEO of Merlyn Global.

He was grinning, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he stepped toward you.

Your breath caught and you could do nothing but say his name, a nervous smile tugging at your lips.

“Y/n,” Malcolm said your name with amusement as he leaned forward and kissed your cheek as you placed a hand to his chest, grabbing at his shirt as if you were struggling to remain on your feet. “You look stunning,” he added, the hot air of his breath hitting your ear as he began to pull away.

Dropping your hand from his chest and reminding yourself that the two of you weren’t alone no matter how much the feelings you had for him always made you forget you weren’t the only two people on Earth, you teased with a laugh, “Save your compliments for the bride, Mr. Merlyn. Although Walter might forgo his poshness if you’re too friendly.”

Malcolm’s blue eyes held yours and for a moment you weren’t sure if he was going to be suggestive about the secret affair the two of you had or if he would simply go along with you, finally he said, “We wouldn’t want that.”

God he’s so attractive…

Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest and you could hear all the noise around you disappearing, your existence narrowing to Malcolm and only him.

Malcolm…

“…why don’t I show Tommy to your table?” Thea’s voice brought you crashing back to reality and your head snapped in her direction, confusion momentarily crossing your face as you watched her wrap an arm around Tommy’s, “I’m so bored.” Your sister mumbled, silently pleading for you to not argue – obviously unaware of where your mind had just wandered to.

“Thea,” you began, not too sure of what you were going to say after

Malcolm saved you by stepping in, his gaze locked on his son as he said, “Make sure you congratulate Moira and Mr. Steele.”

Tommy nodded, throwing a smirk in your direction as he let Thea drag him away neither giving you or Malcolm a chance to say anything differently.

Turning back to the guests waiting in line (and not allowing Malcolm a chance to speak right away), you greeted a few more before saying softly, “It wouldn’t have hurt her to stay put. Even a little longer. People can’t let her just…do whatever she wants when she wants.” On one hand, you were purposefully picking a fight in hopes that he would go away, and on the other, you were talking to him about something you had (in private) discussed with him a dozen times already so to avoid the man standing next to you from saying anything that might fluster and distract you further.

Malcolm, being Malcolm, just laughed and greeted guests alongside you, “Pick your battles. Thea is a child, let her have fun before she has to enter the world of adulthood and endless responsibility.”

“She’s not too far away from being an adult, Malcolm.” Your teen sister was spiraling like Oliver had. It just worried you because Oliver’s acting out could have had some serious consequences (they DID if you consider Sara Lance getting on the Gambit – and eventually dying – as a consequence of Oliver’s unchecked, poor behavior), and so could Thea’s if it continued to escalate. “She needs structure and…”

Malcolm placed a hand to your lower back as he leaned closer, cutting off your sentence to say, “You are not her mother, Y/n.”

“Neither is Moira at this point.” It hurt to admit, but it was the truth. Moira acted more like a friend than a parent when it came to Thea. She had since your father and Oliver had died. And you understood why Moira was like that. Thea was her last reminder of Robert so of course she didn’t want to risk hurting the bond she had with your sister, but there came a time when enough was enough.

And, unfortunately, your step-mother refused to listen to you no matter how often you brought it up to her.

Thankfully, for now, Malcolm didn’t press the conversation further.

Soon enough, you had finished greeting the rest of the guests and let Malcolm lead you to your table, frowning when you realized the Merlyn father-son duo had been placed at the same table as you and Thea.

“Wait…” you frowned, looking at Malcolm for a second before looking at the name card in the center of the table.

Malcolm and Thomas Merlyn

Y/n and Thea Queen

With the last two of six names belonging to Thea’s friends (who were currently too busy staring half in love in Tommy’s direction).

Deciding to rescue your dead-brother’s friend from teenage hormones, you were quick to rearrange the seating with Tommy safely placed between his father and Thea. At the least, it was sure to save you from a headache and Tommy (should he get wasted as he normally did at such events) from any possible legal trouble.

Placing a hand to Malcolm’s shoulder as you sat down, you murmured, “Either you had something to do with this – somehow – or my dear stepmother is attempting to prove herself right about there being something between us.”

Malcolm slipped his hand under the table and placed it to your knee as the both of you looked toward the table Moira and Walter were seated at, talking away to one another. “We both know I didn’t.” he smirked, returning his gaze to you after a moment, “If I did, however, it would be so I could do something like this.”

Once again in the course of your affair, you found yourself caught off guard by the boldness Malcolm showed as he let his hand slide from your knee, up your leg, and under your dress – his fingers digging greedily into your inner thigh.

Luckily, you were able to mask your gasp of surprise at his touch with a breathless laugh.

Throwing a look at the others at the table to make sure they hadn’t noticed anything, you steadied yourself before attempting to say anything. “If anyone notices where your hand is, our secret is out.”

Your lips barely moved, but you knew he heard you by the way he leaned toward you to respond, his breath hitting warmly off your cheek, “That’s what makes our game so fun,”

“Malcolm.” You warned, throwing him a pointed look of frustration, “I’m not playing games.”

Not only was this far from how you would want your family, friends, and associates to find out about your affair, but you couldn’t continue to treat you and Malcolm as just the two of you having fun.

You had allowed yourself (stupidly) to grow far too many feelings for him to try and act like it was a game, like things weren’t serious for you. Like it didn’t take everything you had not to admit your feelings to him and just…beg him to love you back.

“Please, not here.” You finally added, your breath nearly catching in your throat as you spoke.

Malcolm’s blue eyes watched you for several long moments before he was pulling his hand away and getting to his feet, moving his body away from you just enough so you couldn’t grab his arm without others noticing and drawing attention to yourself.

“Excuse me,” he smiled at Tommy, Thea, and Thea’s friends before looking back at you, “Miss Queen, we’ll speak later.” And he just walked away, heading for the bar, and away from you as you watched after him, your head and heart screaming for you to go after him.

You were thankful that he hadn’t gone any further, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you had been too snappy.

He wasn’t angry, or he didn’t seem to be, and he had never gone too far in crowded, public spaces…you could have trusted him to remain playful but also to keep his usual discretion.

And then you began to wonder if he wanted to get caught but wasn’t sure whether to admit it or not. To be fair, you always made a fuss about people finding out. Maybe he took that as you never wanting to tell anyone. Ever.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking. That he would want to get caught.

Letting out a shaky breath, you grabbed your glass of champagne and lifted it to your lips. As you did, you locked eyes with Moira who was looking at you like she definitely knew something.

Shit.

**

Once the dancing began, you wasted no time in accepting partners. You loved to dance and didn’t bother to keep yourself in check or to wisely choose who your next dance partner was. It was a wedding, and it wasn’t like you were doing anything that would disgrace your step-mother and her new husband.

And so, you didn’t bother (or think) to turn Tommy down when he appeared beside you at the end of a slow song.

“May I?” he teased, already grabbing your hip and pulling you into his arms

Placing your hands to his shoulders, you teased just as another slow song started up, “Are you sure you want to leave your fan club?”

Tommy cringed at the mention of Thea and her friends who had watched him all night, following him everywhere and asking him a million questions about college parties, fast cars, and anything else they thought he was interested in (and that’s all you knew about before you started dancing). “I am pretty sure Thea dared one of them to follow me into the bathroom.”

“Oh no,” you laughed, playfully concerned about your sister doing that knowing Tommy was only playing around.

“And what about you?” Tommy questioned as the two of you moved around in a slow circle, not truly trying to dance “My dad hasn’t stopped looking at you since your first dance. And I noticed the tenseness between you two before that. What’s going on between the two of you?”

His words froze you to the spot, your eyes wide as you tried to think of something to respond with.

Tommy wasn’t upset, but he wasn’t being playful anymore either. You knew him well enough to read the emotions on his face. Tommy was curious and…worried, maybe?

“My father hasn’t shown attention to another woman since my mother, as far as I know. And suddenly he’s…he’s different when he’s with you, Y/n. I don’t…I don’t know how, exactly, but he is.”

“Tommy,” you croaked, shaking your head to try and get him to stop talking. “Malcolm and I are…friends.”

Panic. Absolute panic was in your chest as you tried to defend yourself and Malcolm, to hide your secret from his only child.

Tommy laughed, almost as if he could sense the internal conflict within you, “Y/n, I’m not stupid and my eyes work just fine.”

The memory of a month earlier, at Malcolm’s, when he had spoken in some foreign language and how he had looked at you so gently came rushing to the front of your mind. Is that what Tommy was referring to? Is that the “different” Tommy had seen in his father?

Licking your suddenly dry lips, you forced yourself to meet Tommy’s gaze as you whispered, “Your father and I are…close friends. That’s all.” You stepped back from him, needing to put space between the two of you as soon as possible, “I’m sorry Tommy. Please don’t be upset but I…I can’t…it’s complicated.”

As quickly as you could, you left the dance floor and headed away from the reception, off to a more secluded area away from prying eyes.

Your hands were sweaty, and your heart was racing.

It wasn’t in panic, however.

For a moment you had been excited about someone knowing about you and Malcolm. Finally, you would have had someone you could confide in.

Then you considered others knowing and that, undoubtedly, they would have bombarded you with questions and wanting to know everything about your affair.

But at least you wouldn’t have had to be so secretive anymore.

So caught up in your desire to tell someone, you had nearly told Tommy until you caught yourself, realizing you didn’t want to cause problems for Tommy if Malcolm didn’t want him to know or if Malcolm wanted to be the one to tell him.

You were certain that a moment longer and you would have told Tommy, disregarding how Malcolm may have felt about it.

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear anyone approaching until a hand was on your arm and Moira was standing in front of you – a look of concern and a little hint of suspicion on her face.

“Mom,” you were quick to, forcing a smile

“Are you alright? I saw you with Tommy. Did something happen?”

You appreciated how worried she sounded, but you saw the look in her eyes that she always had when she was trying to be sneaky and pry information from people, waving a hand about to try and make it seem like everything was fine, you said “What? No. Tommy didn’t do anything. I just got dizzy and…and needed some fresh air.”

Humming, Moira looked you over and then asked, refusing to let it go, “And the other Merlyn? Has he done anything?”

Gotcha. So obvious.

You wondered how long she had been waiting to ask you that?

Deciding to play dumb, you laughed and shook your head, “Malcolm? Of course not. I’ve hardly seen him today except for what little time we were both at the table at the beginning of the reception.”

“Honey,” Moira clicked her tongue with a small shake of her head, and you knew the look she had given you earlier hadn’t been you misreading her expression, “If there is anything between you and Malcolm, it needs to end. He’s far from the right guy for you.” She placed a hand to your arm, squeezing as if to comfort you.

“Mom,” It took some restraint to hold back any rude comments you had about Moira trying to tell you who to see romantically. You knew it was just you being defensive while Moira was just looking out for you (as she always had). “For the last time, I am not dating Malcolm Merlyn. We’re friends and close associates….”

Moira was quick to interrupt, her voice coming off sharp with a clear sign of frustration. “I see the way you look at him, Y/n. I don’t want you to get your heart broken.”

You sighed and opened your mouth to ask her to just stay out of your business when a threat cleared from behind you, stopping you before you could do something you would have absolutely regretted.

Moira’s gaze slipped over your shoulder and you watched the way she nodded and took a step away from you, “This family doesn’t need any more secrets, Y/n.” she advised with a smile, sad smile before she let go of your arm and walked away.

Her words were icy, and killed any excitement you had felt earlier about the possibility of people finding out about your affair.

“I couldn’t help but notice that my son upset you.”

You weren’t surprised that it was Malcolm who had interrupted you and Moira. Anyone else would have been sent away by Moira with a simple rejection. Still, the sound of his voice nearly surprised you as it filled the space between the two of you.

Turning to look at Malcolm, you shook your head and whispered, “Nothing happened. Tommy is a sweetheart.” You forced yourself to sound okay, to keep your emotions in check as you looked at him, doing your best to hold his gaze.

“Yes. He’s always been a charmer.” Malcolm’s gaze flickered over you as he moved closer, his hands tucked into the pockets of his dress pants.

You laughed softly and said, “Moira knows. Or she thinks she knows. She warned me about you, said you’re not safe for me. That there are other, better options for me.” As you spoke, you rubbed a hand over your forehead – completely exhausted – which made it possible for you to ignore the look of annoyance that flickered briefly over Malcolm’s face.

Grabbing your hand, Malcolm tilted your head back and held you against him. The warmth of his body nearly had you tucking yourself against him, searching instinctively for the comfort of simply being in his arms.  “What options?” He was smirking, trying to come off as playful, but he was also clenching his jaw and his fingers were digging into your chin silently screaming that he was only acting amused.

“Tommy? One of my dance partners?” you shrugged and grabbed his wrist, squeezing it until he released your face, “Why? Are you jealous?” Any other time and you would have been teasing him, trying to push him buttons. Tonight, however, you were just cranky.

Malcolm didn’t respond with words, only wrapped his arms around you – holding you as close as possible with no hope of you getting away unless he allowed.

And although you wanted him to, you hated him a little bit for holding you like that. For making you feel comfortable and comforted without even really trying to do so.

Your arms wrapped around his waist, your face pressed into his chest as you breathed in his cologne and the natural smell of him. It was comforting enough to nearly pull tears from your eyes and almost had you breaking down in soft sobs of confusion – your emotions feeling like they were snow balling and were threating to just spill over.

“We’re done playing games.” Malcolm finally said after a few moments, pulling back and moving his hands to grip your shoulders.

“Malcolm,” you started to say, to remind him that he was the one who always treated your affair as “fun and games” and “no strings attached,” but was silenced by the man in front of you as he pressed his lips against yours in a heated kiss, his will power seemingly breaking and making it impossible for him to hold back any further.

He growled something in that unfamiliar language once more before he was speaking English again, “You’re mine. All mine. I don’t’ share. I thought I made that obvious.” No doubt, he was referring to you dancing and your/Moira’s comment about there being “possible others” you could be seeing.

“You did,” you murmured, feeling light and like you were dreaming. “Malcolm…what is going on?” It was usually you who had erratic mood swings and made rash decisions. The man in front of you was frazzled and so unlike the Malcolm you knew…

His jaw was set, his fingers digging into your shoulders as he held you to him. Every ounce of possessiveness he had was in his darkened blue eyes as he pulled back just enough to look down at you.

“You want this to be serious? Monogamous? No games? Fine.” Malcolm hissed, one hand slipping from your left shoulder to tangle in your hair at the back of your head, “But you’re mine. Entirely mine.”

There were no words to express your scrambled thoughts.

What he was proposing was…what he was offering was a relationship. The one thing you had been dreaming about for months. At least, what you had been dreaming about the last month.

“You…you would have us be public?” You managed, laughing in disbelief as you stared at him, wide eyed.

“Unless you want to take Moira’s advice and run.” Malcolm suggested it, but it was clear by his tone and the way he was holding himself that there was no way Malcolm would go without a fight.

“My step-mother doesn’t get to decide my life, Mr. Merlyn.” Was your immediate response before you had collected yourself enough to ask, “Are you sure about this?” in a softer tone, searching his face for any signs of regret or that he was saying all of this without truly thinking it through.

“I refuse to let you end up in another man’s arms, Y/n.”

“Oh? So you didn’t like my dancing then?” You teased, dryly

Malcolm tried to look annoyed but a chuckle slipped out in the end, “Trust me, you don’t want to know what I thought about your dancing.”

What he thought about my dance partners is more like it…

“You know,” You hummed, reaching up to grab the knot of his tie, ‘I don’t want you in anyone else’s arms either.”

Malcolm’s face softened near completely as he placed a kiss to your forehead, “There’s no need to worry about that.”

Somehow, you knew he would respond with that.

After all, Malcolm Merlyn didn’t really seem like the type to cheat anyway…

Grinning, you leaned up to steal (another) kiss from him, “Good.”

In the back of your head, you knew this decision asnt as easy as you and Malcolm were making it out to be.

But, for now, you let yourself enjoy the moment.

Do not fall in love with him!

Too late.

**

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this and wish to support me, please consider leaving a tip over on my Kofi and stay tuned for further installments of this series and other words coming soon both FANDOM and Original Content!