#pinkish-orange sky

[gigivas]

1K GIGI Prompts Collections 'Enchanted Twilight: Majestic Mountainscape in Vibrant Hues' 6007 Free 10 pages out of 1000 pages

Get Free 10 pages MTMEVE00572G_260_0001 – 1K GIGI Prompts Collections – Enchanted Twilight, Majestic Mountainscape in Vibrant Hues 6007 10PagesDownload 1K GIGI Prompts Collections ‘Enchanted Twilight: Majestic Mountainscape in Vibrant Hues’ 6007 series provides two documents, one document is 10 pages of prompts in 1000 pages, available for free download. One document is the complete 1000 pages…

[farginen]

riza is neither a morning or night person. she's a twilight person, specially very early dawn. she loves the stillness and quietness, the lighting, how there's no one outside. it's just calm and pretty.

[neon-danger]

No one’s even mentioned the two moons in the new Starcrossed cover I was so proud of that detail

[ddejavvu]

can i request for multiverse monday where hotch is the coach of the little league team that the reader's son is in, and they develop feelings with every meeting they have <33 thank youu

"Orange slices, Mr. Hotchner?"

Aaron turns, the breeze blowing his t-shirt tight against his stomach. He feels the wind against his bare skin, and adjusts the hem so that it's not rucking up his abdomen.

"I think those are for the little leaguers," Aaron smiles, warmly, kindly, accompanied by a soft pinkish hue to his face and neck. It's homey, the bright blue of the sky, the vibrant green of the grass, and soft like the material of his tee that juxtaposes the stiff suits in his wardrobe at home.

"I cut them, I can hand them out," You shrug, extending a small plastic bag of oranges towards him, "Besides, I hear they help with your skin."

He takes them, opens the bag and pinches one between his fingers before he teases, "Are you telling me I've got wrinkles?"

"No!" You laugh, and then you reconsider, "Well, frown lines. Probably from telling Manny to stop catching butterflies instead of balls. But I meant that you're gonna get sunburnt, Mr. Hotchner."

"I put on sunscreen," He shakes his head, absentmindedly tugging the flesh of the orange away from the rind with his teeth, his eyes drifting lazily over the kids playing catch.

"Not well."

He's broken out of his focus by your hand braced against his cheek, your thumb rubbing against the bridge of his nose. He stiffens, caught in the feeling of your gentle caress. He's fairly certain orange juice runs a sticky line down his chin. When you pull your hand away again there's a white paste on your skin, clearly sunscreen he hadn't applied as thoroughly as he'd thought.

"Oh." He mumbles sheepishly, swallowing the sour fruit in his mouth, "I thought-"

"Did Jack do it?"

"No," He admits, and he'll take the hit to his ego for the way your nose scrunches with glee as you laugh.

"Use a mirror next time, Mr. Hotchner," You suggest, bumping your shoulder into his as you begin surveying the kids like he was. One nearly trips over her own cleat and you tense, ready to spring into action, but she rights herself and you settle again.

"You're not one of the players, you know. You can call me Aaron." He hums.

"Oh, yeah? I think," You cock your head to the side, eyeing him, "That you just want one of the otter pops in my cooler. Orange slices weren't enough? You've resorted to buttering me up for a blue raspberry popsicle?"

"I do not want an otter pop," He chuckles, "Or maybe I do, but not to eat. I just want to hold it against my sunburn."

Your laughs combine into a sweet thing, a brief symphony among the thwacking of baseballs on leather and the huffing of little players. You reach down to the cooler and withdraw a pink popsicle, handing it out to him with a soft smirk.

"You're lucky I'm a team player, Aaron. Pink is my favorite, but since it matches the color of your face, I suppose you're welcome to it."

He thanks you for the popsicle as he settles it against his warm cheek, but he willfully neglects to tell you that the strawberry tones of his face are less from sun damage, and more from the way your shoulder comes to brush feather-light against his own, barely there but unmoving all the same.

[latenightdaydreams]

Werewolf König x Human!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, non-con, werewolf, knotty, breeding kink, biting, chase

3.5k word count

🐺

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💖Set in the 1980s💖

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It’s half past midnight as you hug your best friend goodbye. Her boyfriend had broken up with her, so you made the hour drive into the countryside to see her, but you work tomorrow so you aren’t able to stay the night.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Laura, your friend, asks. “It looks like it’s about to snow.” She looks to the sky with her sage green eyes, cheeks stained red from crying, but she still looks so beautiful.

“I can’t miss any more days of work, or else I would. I’ll drive safe, promise.” You hold your pinky finger out for her to wrap hers around.

“Call me once you get home, please.”

“I will.” You wave to her over your shoulder as you walk to your car. When you look up, you can see bright gray clouds and the full moon illuminating the night sky. You unlock your car and get inside, turning up the heater all the way.

 The radio turns on, Air Supply- “Making Love Out of Nothing at All”, blares from the speakers. Singing out with all your heart along with the radio as you turn your headlights on and set off back home.

The main road you take has no street lights to illuminate the path; only the light from your headlights and the moon to guide your way. When you look on either side of you, all you can see is dense woods with the occasional farm land.

Fluffy chunks of snow fall from the sky as the road ahead of you quickly gets covered. You turn on your windshield wipers at the highest setting. The snow makes the drive seem more surreal. As you have stepped into a Disney movie. It’s relaxing, to say the least.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can swear you see something big. You twist your head, trying not to look away from the snowy road for too long. Yet, you see nothing. You chalk it up to you being tired and seeing things. This area has no wolves, at least not anymore. They were all hunted into extinction or pushed out.

The drive only gets harder as the snow falls faster than what your windshield wipers can clear away. The visibility becomes so poor you can only see a few feet in front of you. Feeling your heartbeat pick up from anxiety, you slow your speed to 15 under the speed limit. You’d rather be safe than sorry.

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König deployed to middle America twenty-seven days ago. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out extraction that went sideways. Two weeks turned into four. Panic set in as he realized he will change away from his restraints.

Day twenty-eight, he looked at his men with hungry eyes. Their fear of him becoming easier to smell and he knew he had to get away from them for their safety.

“I’m going to patrol. Make sure no one follows us.” He lies.

The sky beginning to turn a pinkish orange hue as he drops his weapons and runs. His heart pounding in his chest, dirt kicking up beneath his feet, he tries to get as far away from them as he can.

Looking up, the sky turns a dark blue as the sun is almost completely set. After what feels like an eternity of running, he finds an abandoned run-down farm. He makes his way inside the barn to make sure he is alone.

Once inside König quickly pulls his helmet off of his head followed by his mask. He drops to his knees taking in deep breaths. He can feel his body temperature beginning to rise rapidly and his senses begin to heighten. His pupils enlarge, turning his icy blue eyes black as he begins to pant. Pain consumes his body as he begins to change, his hands grabbing at his shirt and pulling the rest of his clothes from his body with haste.

“Argh!” König’s scream comes out deep, inhuman. His body begins to contort as he drops to the floor in agony.

His fingertips now sharp claws, black and grayish fur cover his body. Standing up from the floor, fully transformed, he takes in a deep breath before letting out a loud howl. He now stands 9ft tall. Taking a moment to adjust to everything he can’t stop sniffing the air. There is a scent, one that he has never smelled before. He follows it outside of the barn. Stepping into the moonlight, he begins to run on all fours in the direction it’s coming from.

König is blinded by his pure primal drive as he runs with one objective. He stops by a roadside and looks up to see a small ranch style home with two cars parked outside. A woman with her back turned to him hugging a taller blonde. It wasn’t the blonde he was here for; it was you. He was smelling you.

His eyes follow you as you walk to your car. It was too risky to run out and grab you now. When the headlights turn on his eyes; he squints, retreating back into the tree line. König stands on two feet and sniffs the air, letting out a deep sigh before dropping back down on all fours. He begins to follow you.

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You lean forward as you drive to try and see the road better. Driving was becoming dangerous, but you’re still 45 minutes away from home. Out of the corner of your eye you see the dark shadow again. It’s almost as if it’s something chasing the car, but you chalk it up to just the shadows mixing with the heavy downfall of snow.

The car’s tires begin to struggle to grip the road as it quickly becomes slippery from the heavy layer of snow. You lift your foot from the gas to let yourself slow down more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself as you feel your heart beating in your ears. You absolutely hate driving in the snow, especially when you’re so far away from home. Had you known it would snow, you would have had Laura come stay with you.

Just as you did breathing exercises to calm yourself, something huge darts in front of your car. You slam on your brakes and turn the steering wheel. A panicked scream leaves your mouth as your car drifts out of control. Within the blink of an eye, your car slams into a guardrail that stops you from falling into a ravine. Your head hits the steering wheel and you fall to the side slightly, making the music blast. The song “Every Breath You Take” by the Police fills the car.

“Shit.” You sit up and rub your head, feeling warm blood on your fingers.

Reaching over, you turn your rearview mirror towards you to check yourself. The low light makes it hard, but you only see a cut across your forehead. Letting out a deep sigh, you look at the car through the windshield. It’s smoking, but the battery is still running, so you try to get the car to start back up. Nothing. You’re stranded.

Stepping out of the car, you’re hit by the harsh cold and the snow on your face. It’s absolutely miserable outside. You remember the last roadside sign said there was a rest stop about two miles ahead, you could definitely call for help there.

You go into your car’s trunk and pull out the flashlight you had back there in case of emergencies; much like the ones you’re in now. The snow crunched beneath each of your footsteps as you made your trek to the rest stop. If there is one thing you can be thankful for, it’s the fact you wore your winter boots today.

“Just my luck…” you whisper to yourself, your breath visible as you speak. The wind whistles all around you as you hug yourself with one arm and continue holding the flashlight up with the other. The night is eerily quiet, not one other car on the road.

You continue ahead and stay to the side near the tree line just in case a car came. You can’t shake the feeling of being watched, as if you’re being followed. In your head, you tell yourself that it must be just all of the anxiety. No one else is actually out here.

That is until you hear a branch snap. You freeze for a second, holding your breath, trying to listen. All you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling around you and your heartbeat in your ears. Just an animal… You think, but then you scare yourself trying to think about what size animal that was.

With nothing you can do, you decide to just push forward and keep walking. Each step you take with haste, as you feel the fear of being watched, might be valid. You try to not freak out and waste all of your energy running, so in your mind, you try to calm yourself.

Maybe it was only a deer. Deer are heavy and live here. Could have also just been a branch falling down…

To relax more, you hum to yourself, just a random tune you made up in your head. You look up at the sky to gaze at the moon when you hear another branch snap. You twist in that direction and shine your light. That’s when you see the reflective glow of a pair of eyes inside the tree line.

The eyes quickly move away, your stomach dropping. Your mind goes back to the creature you saw while driving. You look around before continuing on. Your once hurried steps are more of a light jog. Your mind is torn between the primal urge to run and the human urge to remain calm.

Just a deer, just a deer, just a deer…

You hear another branch and you jump, turning again to shine the light on it again. The eyes appear once more, closer this time. You let out a shaky breath as you feel a wave of dread wash over you. Just then, you hear a low growl.

Not a deer, not a deer, not a deer!

Without a second thought, you turn and run, continuing down the road. Your mind goes a million miles a second as you try to process what animal it could be; maybe even a stray dog. Either way, you didn’t want to find out.

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König watches you closely. Your smell is intoxicating. Consuming his mind, he can’t stop pursuing you. When you hear his heavy foot snap a stick, he freezes; he can hear your heartbeat race inside of your chest. The smell of fear growing stronger by the second.

You shine the light in his eyes, and he cowers away from the brightness of it. He lingers as you walk away again, getting some distance between the two of you so it would be easier to follow you without being seen.

He keeps his pace, listening to you hum a song to yourself. Acting as if you’re unaware that you’re being stalked when your elevated heart beat says otherwise. Then he does it again. This time you’re quick and flash the light on him instantly.

His urge to get close to you is uncontrollable. Your smell…what is it? He needs you, craves you. You are his. He lets out a deep growl, feeling his body tingle. You hear it and take off quickly. This is the moment, his time to pounce.

He picks up his pace until he is ahead of you. Once he is, he jumps out from the woods and walks in front of you. Standing up on two legs, he lifts his head and howls.

A deep, truly terrified scream escapes your lips as you watch a 9-foot-tall creature stand before you on two legs, howling as a wolf. Your flashlight illuminates the thick, dark fur covering its whole body. This was the creature you saw running beside your car, the one stepping on sticks, whose eyes you saw glowing…

You turn quickly and run back in the opposite direction, towards Laura’s house. In a panic, you drop your flashlight, your only possible weapon. There is no time to stop and pick it up, as you can hear the creature beginning to chase you.

“HELP!” you scream into the darkness, but there is no one around to hear you. “PLEASE!”

Adrenaline courses through your veins as your feet slip on the snow beneath you. You catch yourself and keep going. Looking over your shoulder, the creature is gone. What the fuck… You stop to look around, panting.  

If it wasn’t for the claw marks in the snow, you’d think you were hallucinating. Laura's home is closer to you than the rest stop, so you continue running back in that direction. As the adrenaline wears off, tears fill your eyes, the rush of everything you just witnessed causing you to break down. You take a deep inhale before letting out a loud sob, your feet slowing. Allowing yourself to have a moment before collecting yourself.

You wipe your tears away, trying to steady your breath as you turn to look behind you. All you see are your own footprints now. The cold makes your nose leak as you wipe it away on your coat sleeve.

“What the fuck is going on?” You whisper to yourself as you sniffle.

You turn back around and freeze. Up the road you see a dark black shadow. Your heart rate spikes again. It doesn’t move, so you take small steps backwards. Unexpectedly, the creature walks away slowly back into the wooded area. Confused on which direction you should go; you just continue to go towards Laura. Clearly, no matter where you go, this thing can move faster. Everything around you is quiet; on high alert, your eyes dart around in every direction.

“Just keep walking. You’ll be at Laura’s in no time.” Your voice cracks, lacking confidence in your own words. It’s as if this thing was toying with you.

Your body shivers from the intense cold. In your mind you convince yourself that this will just be a funny story you tell her once you get there. She will make you hot chocolate and everything will be fine. You’ll be okay.

Just as you started to believe your own hype, your body hits the snow-covered road- hard. Your head hits the ground and your vision goes blurry for a split second. You can feel hands grabbing your ankles and dragging you back into the woods. In a panic you begin to grasp at the snow on the ground, trying to pull yourself away from it.

“Let me go!” You try to squirm, trying to make yourself difficult in hopes it will drop you.

The creature growls at you, refusing to drop you. It drags you through the cold snow, sticks hitting your face and scratching you. Finally, it drops your legs. You turn quickly and begin to scoot away on the floor.

This… this isn’t real. This can’t be real. You see a 9-foot-tall wolf looking humanoid. A werewolf? No, they aren’t real.

König takes a deep breath in, having you this close makes that sweet smell so much more intense. His eyes travel over your body. He needs to claim you. He steps closer as you begin to crawl backwards. A growl escapes his lips as he lunges forward, grasping your ankle tightly; screams going unheard.

His clawed hand comes up and rests on your chest, pressing you into the cold ground.  Moving slowly, his cold wet nose touches your neck and you wince. His tongue coming out and kicking you.

His hands grasp your winter coat, ripping his sharp claws through it. A burst of cold hits you as you try to fight back. You hit him in the chest and on his face. He grasps both of your wrists with one hand and holds you down.

With your coat torn open, the sweet scent gets stronger. He is getting closer. In a frenzy he continues to tear off your clothing. Your small body wiggling didn’t slow him one bit. Covered in goosebumps from the cold you feel his nose trail down your body until he lands between your legs.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs he begins to take deep breaths, it’s what he’s been chasing. He’s finally found his mate. The aroma of your cunt begins to make his cock hard. His fat tongue presses against the fabric of your blue cotton panties.

“No!” You try to kick him again.

His blacked-out eyes snap up at you and snarls before looking back down. Grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth, he jerks his head to the side; tearing your underwear off. You have half of a shirt on, your bra torn down the center. You’re basically naked, the snow still falling heavily. Other than the extreme heat from the werewolf, you’re freezing.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs, he begins to lap at your cold cunt. His first taste made him close his eyes; he has never tasted anything as good as you before. Your back arches, hands still restrained above your head. Squeezing your legs around him you let out a tiny moan. He responds with a low growl. All he can think of is getting your scent all over him and his all over you.

His hands move to your hips and pull you toward him. His hands wrapping around your thighs and spreading your legs wide apart to fit his body between them. His hips grind forward and rub his massive erection along your wet folds.

You look up at him helplessly as he leans forward to lick your face and neck. Slowly the fat head of his red cock begins to slip into your tiny little cunt. A loud groan leaves his lips as he feels you wrap around him. His claws dig into the supple flesh of your thighs as he rolls his hips into you at a rapid pace.

Hands grasping at the forest floor, grabbing leaves and pieces of your torn clothes. You try to crawl backwards but he stops you, growling as he pulls you closer to him again. He gives you a glare as his cock stretches you to the brink, you’re his now to breed with and you won’t be leaving until you’re bred.

He drops your legs and turns you over. Your naked body hits the snow and you shiver. His hands grab your hips and pull you to him so you’re on all fours with your ass in the air for him. His cock slips back in, making him let out a small growl. His balls slap against your clit as he bucks into you.

Moans leave your lips, feeling disgusted with yourself for feeling pleasure from this beast. He loves to hear your pathetic little sounds. König’s claws dig into your hips as he gets closer to cumming inside of you.

Panting loudly as he leans over and begins to bite your neck hard. You let out a pained moan, the bite feeling slightly pleasurable. Slowly, the pressure of the bite increased and it was almost like he was keeping you in place.

That’s when you feel his hands on your hips push you down more on his cock. Your pussy is already full. You squirm from the pain. The squirms don’t stop him. He is close now. His hands firmly pull you back again as he pushes forward and you let out a loud moan. Little did you know he was trying to knot you.

König was ready to cum. His teeth sink fully into your neck, causing you to bleed. He pulls you to him and pushes forward until it pops in- finally. Instantly, your pussy clenches around his bulbous knot. You’re so tight, his cock throbbing periodically as he cums deep inside of you. Making sure not even one drop escapes you.

His massive body keeps you warm as you lie there in pain from being so full. You try to move and he growls at you, still not moving his teeth from your neck.

Slowly, he moves his teeth from your neck. You try to move and lie down, but you can’t. You're attached to him. Looking back over your shoulder at him, he leans back in and licks your face before licking your neck where he marked you. Now you’re officially his mate.

He stays locked inside of you as he ejaculates until his knot slowly fades away. Almost an hour on the freezing cold floor. If it wasn’t for his body heat, you would have frozen to death by now. As König slowly pulls out, he looks down at your small body. His eyes focused on your stretched pussy. Gently, he lifts you into his arms and walks you to the barn. He would not let you go now that he has found you.

[foreingersgod]

Hii can I request juju Watkins x reader where they go on a cute date in the town

Date Night . JW

pairing: juju watkins x reader

synopsis: juju takes you out for your birthday :)

A/N: i’m pretty sure juju is from LA (to my knowledge) so that’s where this is taking place, thus the beach and all of that. that’s what came to mind so i’m sorry if it’s not exactly what you meant by ‘downtown’ !

NOT PROOF READ

I know there's lots of love in your heart

But, who you gonna give it to?

a warm summer breeze nipped at your bare skin as you walked down the cracked sidewalk. your hand was intertwined with your girlfriends, her thumb rubbing at your knuckles soothingly. her body, one that towered over yours by several inches, bumped into you playfully while she guided you through town.

it was your birthday today and juju insisted that you go out and do something for your special day. before you had met her, you didn’t really care much for your birthday. being the center of attention was never your thing and making a whole celebration about yourself didn’t seem amusing to you. but then you started dating juju and you learned very quickly that that mindset was going to change.

you had been with her since both of yours’ freshman year of high school and every birthday since, she would put together a special day just for you. you could tell, just from how much she articulately planned your birthday, that she had so much love in her heart, and it was all for you.

I'm sure there's lots of guys that you see

But, I swear they're not as cool as me

she was everything you had wanted in someone; your best friend, the best girlfriend, she was all you needed. and you meant it, you had been together for 4 (going on 5) years now and she still managed to make you feel like the only girl in the world.

like tonight, for this particular birthday, she took you on a small date downtown. while it might not seem like anything remarkable, it meant more than anything to you.

downtown was were juju had asked you out on a date for the first time. when you guys went out on a friday night with your mutual friends group and she pulled you aside. the two of you stood underneath a single street light when she nervously played with her fingers, working up the courage to ask you. it was where you had your first date, too. she took you to the movies at the center of downtown, she knew it was one of your favorite things to do. and it was where you shared your very first kiss. when it was a brisk spring evening and she was driving you home, but she was too eager and pulled over off the side of the road. she took your face into her hands and leaned over the driver seat to kiss you right there and then.

it might sound silly to most people when you would say the bustle of downtown was your favorite place, but it was true. every important moment with your girl happened right in the center of it all.

Girl, I can take you where you wanna go, if you wanna ride

We could watch a movie, hit the beach, or just chill and get high

“where are we headed to now, hm?” you looked up at her, grinning from ear to ear. your hair movies slightly as another waft of wind rushed past you.

the sun was in the early stages of setting in the distance. past all the old and worn down shops and enormous buildings, the sky was illuminating a lovely shade of pinkish orange. it reflected perfectly on juju, her beautiful skin quite literally glowing. you didn’t want to look away from her, she looked absolutely exquisite as she turned her gaze down to you.

“well we just finished the movie so i thought,” she looked upwards to ponder “we could go to your favorite ice cream place and walk down to the beach?”

you nodded in acceptance, releasing her hand and joining arms instead. you wanted to be as close to her as possible.

your favorite ice cream shop wasn’t far from where you currently were, but it did give you some time to enjoy a small walk through town. as you continued your evening stroll, you watched anything that caught your eye. you pointed out cute articles of clothing through store windows, telling her she would look so cute in them. you’d look at the other cute couples enjoying the busy nature of downtown on a saturday because you loved to people watch. you’d laugh when juju cracked a joke, always the corniest ones because she knew they would make you fold over giggling. the ice cream shop was nearly forgotten as you were entranced in your girlfriend’s company.

soon enough it appeared around the corner of a brickwork building. it was small and built with tattered white boards, the inside shining a warm light and displaying a few strangling customers.

“what’re you gonna get this time, baby” she asked, arms folded and looking at todays flavors. juju, no matter how many times you came here, never knew what kind she wanted. you on the other hand, knew exactly what you were gonna order.

“i’m thinking cake batter, tonight” you pointed out to her “what about you?”

“how does cookies and cream sound?”

“good, but it’s your ice cream not mine” you chuckled.

“yea, but you always eat some of mine anyways” she smirked, side eyeing you jokingly.

you rolled your eyes back, cheeks heating up with a rosy blush. she knew you too well. it was true, you always managed to sneak bites of her ice cream after finishing yours first.

“yea ok whatever” you said as she kissed your cheek in a false attempt to apologize.

once the very polite employee finished scooping your ice cream, juju paid despite you trying to put your card into the reader. not only was she not about to let you pay on your birthday, but she’d never take you out somewhere without rightfully paying herself.

cones in hand, ice cream dripping down the sides, juju led you out of the parlor and back down the street. this time farther, heading down to the beach. you were almost skipping with excitement as you dragged her down the sidewalk.

And we can do whatever you wanna do

Ooh, oh, oh, oh

sand piled in between your bare toes, samoa warm sensation to the bottoms on your feet. you both kicked off your shoes and socks to abandon them on the concrete as you raced each other to the shoreline. your ice cream was half gone by the time you reached where the icy water met the dampened sand, sun now even lower than it was before. the two of you made yourselves comfortable on the sand, sitting side by side with your knees pulled up to your chests.

“how’s the cookies and cream?” you questioned, taking the last bite of your waffle cone.

“really good,” she took a small bite of hers “…you want to try it, don’t you?”

you licked your lip’s teasingly, leaning over to her to try it. she laughed, scolding you for taking too big of a bite (like you always did). but she didn’t care, she’d let you eat the whole thing before she’d get mad at you.

when the ice cream was finally finished and your hands were still faintly sticky, you scooted closer to juju, hips touching and her arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders. you let your head fall against her shoulder and nuzzled into her collarbone. the sounds of the waves lulled you into a state of relaxation as you both sat in welcomed silence. it wasn’t often you got a spot like this all to yourselves so you enjoyed the quiet while you could.

you felt her lips press a kiss to the top of your head, her breath hot against your scalp. eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction, you hummed, sitting back up to steal a real one from her. your lips caught hers gently, sharing a sweet kiss. her hand found its way to your jaw to cradle it carefully as she pulled you in even deeper.

“d’you have a good birthday?” she exhaled, looking into your eyes deeply. she asked that every time and you answered just the just the same.

“i loved it” you beamed “the best day ever”

she ran her fingers through your hair suddenly, preventing the wind from dragging it into your face, “i’m glad, i love you so much, YN”

“i love you, too” you resumed your heads position on her shoulder, sighing constantly as you overlooked the perfect ending to the perfect day “so much”

Baby, I want some of your love

Your love (your love), your love

Baby (baby), can I have some of your love

Your love, your love

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: this was a little rushed but i hope you like it <3

[izvmimi]

the god of the riverbanks takes his sacrifices drowned - young girls, once sweet, bright-eyed and naïve in the morning sun, in exchange for bountiful harvests, rain and the promise of floods kept at bay. there are rumors that they turn up unaccompanied and unharmed in villages afar, hair just slightly damp and smelling as fresh as the sea, with their memories lost yet their smiles forever just as cheerful as the jade green dragon himself who glides just below the visible depth of the wide seas.

in contrast, the god of the skies, of sun and snow, is thought to take his sacrifices burned at the stake and yet no one has seen their bodies past their first cries and coughs. young women with strange burns they do not remember abound in a country far west; perhaps their voices reach the heavens and he shows mercy towards them, allowing them to ride on his back that glitters with a mosaic of white and red scales, and see the world from above, their scars bold but their minds purged of their pasts by flame and soothed by gentle ice.

however, nothing will give you solace, because you are to be sacrificed to the god of the mountains and the earth, who is war and strife itself. the blindfold that keeps you helpless is thick, the ropes on your wrists tight and cutting into your skin. the god offers your village protection from calamity and invasion; he promises your country strength and thus your gift is necessary.

you doubt you'd be a worthy meal but there was no one else to offer up, and you hope he swallows you up quickly; the pain could be immense, but not worse than the pain in your weary heart. your chest aches as you think of your family, aches further when you realize you will never have the chance to find purpose or find love.

the mountains are still and quiet as you wait, bound helplessly to the stone shrine. there is no escape.

time passes both slow and fast as you breathe in deep and exhale half as long until your chest hurts with the stacking of breath expanding your weary lungs.

you hear a sigh.

"sick of this shit."

your eyes widen at the gruffness of the man's voice, but you can see nothing. he tuts, and you can hear a presence move around you, the stinging warmth of a flame too close to the sensitive skin of the underside of your arms. the same sensation is quickly felt in your bound legs before you before they are free.

the blindfold falls and you're staring into a set of red, inhuman eyes. vertical slits. dragon eyes.

but your visitor is a man, somewhat, even if he is practically three times your size. your breath holds as you take more of him in, sharp eyes and even sharper cheekbones, golden hair, a gaze that is less curiosity and more exasperation. there is a soft glow to his skin despite the dusky overtone of the sky and his lips are soft appearing and pinkish red, almost feminine, in contrast to the soft bristle of fair, coarse hair on his chin. smoke still comes from the corner of his mouth as he speaks, and you see flashes of fanged teeth intermittently.

"i'm taking you to the other side of the mountain, got it?" he asks.

it's a statement that is given like an order and you're too dumbfounded to speak, forgetting how to make use of your no longer bound arms and legs.

"i won't eat you. got it?" he repeats, louder. your head swims.

he doesn't wait for your answer regardless, and his wings spread - deep crimson, orange and yellow, brilliant like the crackles of a large bonfire. you're dragged into his arms without protest and cradled like a small child despite his annoyed expression, you take to the skies, your fate uncertain.

[peonypaint]

various evening skies

[ ID: four digital paintings of sunsets. the first shows a dark ground flat landscape and the sky above it, the clouds are pinkish orange and purple, and behind the clouds are patches of darker blue sky with a single star beginning to shine. the second and third drawing are both smaller close up of segments of a sunset, both colored with pinks, purples, and blues. the fourth drawing shows a sunset with rays of light shining through the clouds to light up the sky. the upper part of the painting is darker and done in purples while the lower part of the drawing is brighter, with more warm colors and a blue sky behind the clouds. /END ID]

[neopronouns]

flag id: two flags with 5 stripes. the left flag's stripes are medium dark faded pinkish-purple, faded purplish-pink, light seafoam green, very light sky blue, and light sky blue. the right flag's stripes are medium dark faded purple, soft indigo, light orange, very light red-pink, and light red-pink. end id.

banner id: a 1600x200 teal banner with the words ‘please read my dni before interacting. those on my / dni may still use my terms, so do not recoin them.’ in large white text in the center. the text takes up two lines, split at the slash. end id.

lavenboy | violegirl

lavenboy: a queerly feminine boy; someone who both considers themselves male and has some significant connection to queer femininity, either in their gender or expression; a boy aligned with queer femininity; an umbrella term for all identities that involve being both male and queerly feminine

violegirl: a queerly masculine girl; someone who both considers themselves female and has some significant connection to queer masculinity, either in their gender or expression; a girl aligned with queer masculinity; an umbrella term for all identities that involve being both female and queerly masculine

[pt: lavenboy: a queerly feminine boy; someone who both considers themselves male and has some significant connection to queer femininity, either in their gender or expression; a boy aligned with queer femininity; an umbrella term for all identities that involve being both male and queerly feminine

violegirl: a queerly masculine girl; someone who both considers themselves female and has some significant connection to queer masculinity, either in their gender or expression; a girl aligned with queer masculinity; an umbrella term for all identities that involve being both female and queerly masculine. end pt]

anon asked for a term like azurgirl but for queer masculinity, so i figured i'd do a rosboy term as well!

the flags are based on the rosboy and azurgirl flags with the top three stripes of each adjusted to represent queer femininity/masculinity. for lavenboy, i added a shade of mint and adjusted the pink and purple to be closer in shade; for violegirl, i added a shade of soft orange (since that's in both the butch and bear flags) and adjusted the blues to indigos.

since 'ros' and 'azur' were inspired by both flowers (roses and azures) and colors (pink and blue), i used the names of flowers associated with queerness whose names are also used as colors, lavender and violet!

tags: @radiomogai, @liom-archive, @macchiane, @genderstarbucks, @sugar-and-vice-mogai

tags cont: @freezingnarc, @skrimbliest, @seraphtrix, @fem-mogai

dni link

[honorarysimp]

New York State of Mind

series masterlist

day 1

New York City.

The city that never sleeps is winding down for the night, the hustle and bustle of the day giving way to a softer, quieter atmosphere. The reflection of the sunset on the glass windows of the buildings creates a mesmerizing display of light and color, dancing across the streets below. Here and there people still move about, making their way home from work or heading out for the evening.

The city seems to be taking a moment to breathe, enjoying this brief interlude of peace as lastcasting warm orange glows across the towering skyscrapers.

You’re exhausted. Dog tired. It took two days to get from California to New York, taking into account all the pit stops for varying reasons, both of you catching some sleep at the hotel stop half way through. But god, it’s good to be back home, and you realize this as you maneuver the car through traffic.

Tara is asleep in the passenger seat, one of your hoodies tucked underneath her head as a makeshift pillow, her knees pulled up to her chest as she remains blissfully unaware of reality.

You hate to wake her, because even though you’re use to the traveling and driving, Tara is not.

But she threatened your life prior to her falling asleep, insisting you do so she could take in the city for the first time.

You reach over and rest a hand on her arm, thumb gently trying to coax her awake, “hey, you’re gonna miss sunset” you says gently, which earns you a sleepy grumble as she swats your hand away blindly.

That makes you laugh, sitting back into your seat just as Tara sits up and stretches, running her fingers through her hair as she blinks the remnants of slumber from her dazed mind.

“What-“

Instantly she falls quiet, now fully awake as she peers through the window.

Tara takes in the sight of the bright orange disk of the sun is slowly making its descent from the sky, the light making a warm and bright atmosphere as it shone all throughout the city. It bounced off the reflective windows, casting streaks across the buildings. The light was getting dimmer by the minute, the clouds gaining a more pinkish hue as the sun got closer to disappearing behind the skyline.

Shadows were starting to fill the alleys and crevices as the sun continued its slow journey towards the horizon, the air turning increasingly colder with the dimming of its light.

“Holy shit”.

“Welcome to New York” you say quietly, not giving much attention to the buildings anymore as you instead, take in her awed expression.

The drive to your place is about as quick as you expected, the traffic is something you didn’t miss. But Tara seems happy, watching and soaking in everything. It is a lot, after all, so you don’t blame her.

You only relax once you get the car into the parking garage, the both of you in a daze as you head for the elevator.

“Fuck the bags, we’ll get them later” was all Tara had to say for you to agree without question. It’s a fairly safe area, you’d like to think, but then again you’ve learned nothing is ever as it seems.

But you’re far too tired to give a shit right now.

So when you make it to your apartment, you unlock the door and let Tara walk inside first. Instinctively you kick your shoes off and head down the little hall that leads to the rest of your apartment, only, Tara is paused at the opening.

The apartment is a nice size for New York standards, with bare white walls and open spaces, and a large window that extended from the ceiling to floor. The city skyline was visible from the window, the sun setting on the horizon to the west. The apartment was tastefully furnished, but there was not any personal touches anywhere in it. It was a nice, but slightly cold and sterile, living space.

“In my defense, I moved in here two months before I left for Woodsboro” you mumble sheepishly, coming up behind her and wrapping your arms around her waist. Tara hums, instantly sinking back into you, and when her head drops back to your shoulder you can’t help but rest your own against hers.

“It’s yours, so it’s perfect”.

You smile, taking a step forward while keeping her in your arms, Tara automatically follows as you guide her to the bedroom.

“Tour later. Sleep now.”

Tara yawns, but smiles softly after, “you better be showing me to the guest bedroom”.

“Unfortunately, there’s only my bed here, I hope that won’t inconvenience you.”

You don’t even bother turning on the light, the last streaks of orange and red giving you just enough visibility to make out the outline of the mattress. To which, Tara promptly drops down on to, pulling you with her. You hear two soft thumps before Tara curls herself against you, probably her shoes hitting the hardwood floor.

“Fuck, don’t wake me up for two days” Tara mumbles as her hand slips under your shirt, fingers curling around your side as she tugs you closer. You exhale and wrap your arms around her, sleep already pulling at your consciousness.

“Hibernation sounds nice” you reply quietly, falling asleep to the sound of her breaths evening out, and the warmth of her body against yours.

Not even the city that never sleeps could keep you awake, the final streams of light dissipating and leaving the room in a comforting darkness.

day 3

The city is vast, it’s loud, and it’s busy.

A contrast to what Tara is use to, having spent most her life in Woodsboro, not even when she went to the city to get her EMT certification compares to this.

God, but she is loving this kind of chaos.

It was overwhelming at first, but seeing you move through the streets and around people like second nature, switching between holding her hand or having your arm around her.

It’s hard not to feel giddy, and Tara hates it, because she is not that kind of girl.

You’ve made plans to go sightsee today, a few marker spots that Tara finds herself genuinely excited for. The tallest building in the country, Central Park, Time Square to name a few.

But when you bring Tara into what you’ve named your “favorite coffee shop in the world”, she suddenly finds herself thinking this is already going to be her favorite pace you’ve taken her. And it’s not even a highlight tourist go-to.

It’s a hole in the wall cafe, spacious on the inside, and it’s got this… energy that instantly has Tara feeling homesick. But in a good way, it makes her smile as her eyes take in the interior.

The coffee shop is a cozy space with walls painted a dark green color. The wooden floor darkly stained, and the furniture a mix of darkly varnished oak and wrought iron. The walls were lined with dark wooden bookshelves, the air thick with the aromatic scent of freshly ground coffee.

The coffee bar itself was a long, gleaming counter, filled with a variety of coffee beans and a vintage espresso machine. The wall behind it lined with a variety of coffee beans and a menu with an array of coffee drinks. The ambiance was a mix of soft and intimate, with low lighting and a warm and inviting atmosphere.

The sound of steamers, coffee being ground, and soft music filled the air. Soft yellow lighting illuminated the space, casting a homey glow in the coffee shop.

Tara is in love.

Approaching the bar, the barista behind the counter instantly lights up at the sight of you.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes! Back in town for a bit?” the barista asks with a wide, familiar smile, which makes Tara look between you in curiosity.

“Showing my girlfriend around, had to bring her by” you say with a proud smile, your eyes finding hers, a subtle squeeze of your fingers that are laced between hers makes her chest ache pleasantly.

The barista then looks to Tara kindly, “first time in New York?”

That makes Tara flush, but she tries to play it off with a shrug as she tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear “yeah, you could say that”.

“Well whatever you want, it’s on the house, as usual” the barista says with a nod, already grabbing a cup and writing down what Tara is safe to assume - your usual.

It’s only after Tara gives her order, followed by a thank you, when she looks to you in bewilderment.

“On the house? As usual? Do I even want to ask?”

You lean in, giving her hand a small tug, which has her meeting you half way for a soft lingering kiss.

“I know the owner is all”.

“Friend of yours?”

“We’re practically family”.

day 4

The kitchen table is scattered with Polaroids of Tara, a variety of location and purpose.

Tara thought it a good idea, you were quick to claim it as yours.

The sweetest melody filled the apartment, in time with the steadfast and deliberate movement of your tongue.

One of the photos is her in the passenger seat of your car, water bottle raise to her lips as she smiles around the rim, pretending not to notice. It’s the first of them all, if you remember correctly.

Syrup tasting of the sweetest nectar coats your tongue as it parts through soft flesh, a soft thump of something solid against hard wood can be heard. But muffled by the warmth on either side of your head.

Another photo, Tara standing with one arm up, hand blocking the sun from her eyes as she stands amongst the Great Salt Lake Desert. Still, you’re not sure why she insisted you stop, but you’ve learned to never deny her.

Fingers thread through your hair, those black painted nails gently scraping in a silent gesture of encouragement. Your lips caress fruit forbidden, gently sucking and rolling your tongue in turn, the pressure around your head increases. But even then, you distinctly hear her voice raise an octave.

Your favorite photo by far is from Chicago, Illinois. Of all places, there is where a butterfly had grown fond of Tara, her hands gently cupped together as it perches on her thumb. Those pretty orange and yellow wings don’t compare to that awed smile that graces her lips.

Like biting into a peach, your head spins as ambrosia fills your mouth just as she goes taut and rigid, beautiful symphony surpassing its apex and shifting into a slur of curses and garbled swears.

The most recent one, in New York, is simply Tara gazing up with lights of all colors reflecting in those captivating brown eyes. It’s night, on Time Square, and you’re fairly certain this is the only photo she didn’t see you take.

You savor, relish, linger, as long as she needs until she’s completely undone. And as you withdrawal, a smile tugs at your lips.

Amongst the photos is Tara herself, splayed out across your table, flustered and panting and the prettiest haze in her eyes. When they find yours, she automatically mirrors your smile, which has you leaning forward.

Her fingers part from your hair in opt of tenderly cupping your jaw, shakily leaning up off the table just enough to meet you for a messy, but intimate kiss. And when her tongue glides against your bottom lip, you part them just so she will understand why you’ve grown addicted to the taste of her.

This table, a momentary alter, for the woman you’d die for. The woman you surrender yourself to. The woman that is everything to you.

“I love you” you whisper against her lips, an oath, devotion.

You feel her smile, her nose softly nuzzling yours just as her thumb delicately traces your cheekbone, “I love you”.

To you she is a goddess, and you, worshiper.

day 5

“Yeah, no, you’re kidding yourself if you think you’re fucking going anywhere”.

It’s far too amusing watching you in a panic, tearing the cushions off the couch as you search for your tape recorder.

You’d gotten an email for a “quick job” at the precinct, to assist on a case currently underway, as you so vaguely put. So naturally when you stepped out of the room, Tara swiped it and hid it.

You’ll never leave without it, and thus, gives Tara the time she needs to remind you of all the reasons you won’t be leaving.

Not to mention, Tara is determined to win this. “You promised this two weeks would be about us” she points out, crossing her arms and pinning you with a glare you haven’t noticed yet.

“I can’t say no to work” you say once more, ducking down to look under the couch.

“Yes you can, it’s so simple. It’s literally one vowel”.

“Tara it’s work, it’s what pays-“

“Don’t you bullshit me, I know for a fact Sidney overcompensated you, so you’d better have a plausible fucking excuse for trying to abandon me.”

It’s a low blow, but it gets Tara the reaction she wants.

That makes you sit up, and from where Tara is standing she has to force herself to keep a straight face. As the way your head pops up just over the top of the couch with that look of irritation, only amuses her further.

“Where is it Tara” you say as you stand, your tone unyielding as you begin to crawl over the couch.

“Up your ass, is where” Tara counters, circling the couch before you can reach her.

“Babe-“

“Don’t ‘babe’ me, you’ve been revoked of your title until you promise me you aren’t going.”

A stare off ensues, your hands gripping the back of the couch as she stands opposite of you, arms still crossed. You’re breaking, fighting back a smile, and Tara is far better with her poker face than you.

“You’re. Not. Going.”

“I have to work, I can’t just say no” you sigh, shoulders starting to deflate, which is a signal to Tara she’s most definitely got you right where she wants you.

“Yes you can” Tara says as she uncrosses her arms, walking forward and dropping to her knees on the couch in front of you, purposefully looking up at you under hooded eyes and smiling softly, “like this”.

And in one swift movement, Tara tilts her head up and kisses you slowly. Her hands curl into the fabric of your shirt, tugging you forward gently. Seducing, enticing, whatever you want to call it. You aren’t leaving.

And from the way you lean forward into her, letting her tug you over the couch and down on to the messily placed cushions, you know it too.

“You’re a bad influence” you say quietly, she silences you by grazing her teeth against your bottom lip.

“Come on, work can wait” Tara runs her hands up your chest, her fingers loosely curling around the back of your neck as she pulls back just enough to meet your gaze.

“You’re seriously going to leave me here, alone, in your apartment without you? When I came all this way just for you?”

Hook, and sinker.

Tara sees the fight to hold yourself responsible shatter, especially when she knows how much you can’t argue against her statement.

“Fuck, okay, yeah you’re right” you sigh, your head dropping to her shoulder.

Tara doesn’t even try to stifle her triumphant laugh, tugging you down to lay next to her as she blindly reaches for the remote. The item hastily discarded on the floor in your search for your tape recorder.

Which, you seem to have completely forgotten about, no thanks to Tara.

You will reap minor consequences later, but fuck it, Tara wins.

day 6

“Please don’t laugh, this is serious, Tara”.

She bites her lip, watching you carefully as you shift from the countertop by the sink to the adjacent one next to the stove, you’re just so goddamn endearing.

It’s hard not to watch you these days, the little mannerisms you have as you fidget about. Especially when you’re cooking. The way you pop your knuckles amidst a temporary pause, train of thought escaping you.

The way your tongue sticks out just the slightest from the right corner of your mouth when you’re concentrating far too hard. That subtle small smile that tugs at your lips as your hands move with practiced fluidity.

Tara wishes she could say she was paying attention to what you’re saying, what you’re doing, but she pretty much tuned out after you told her this was a recipe your best friend’s mom had taught you back in your adolescence.

It’s not her fault she finds you captivating when you’re just being yourself, you’re definitely talking to her and she’s definitely offering a small nod of acknowledgement here and there.

Only when you swipe a bit of sauce on to your finger and offer it to her, does Tara snap out of her thoughts. Recoiling back a from where her chin had been rested on her balled fists, elbows slipping off the counter.

“Oh god no, I don’t know where those fingers have been” Tara says as she makes a face, which only makes you let out a belly laugh that causes Tara’s heart to flutter.

“Tara you know exactly where these fingers have been” you say with innuendo, giving her an expectant look as you offer the sample of sauce gathered on your finger.

“Exactly.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully and stepping away, bringing your finger to your own mouth “I did wash them before I started cooking, not that it matters”.

Tara bites back a smile, she can’t help it, its habit. But god it’s hard when you’re always doing the most mundane or stupidest shit that has her fighting off the involuntary action.

Just as you’re filling both plates with pasta and what you call “garlic bread”, Tara told you butter and garlic salt on toast doesn’t count, she decides to approach a topic she’s been trying to find a way to address in the most subtle way possible.

Then again, Tara has never been good at that.

“Baby I love you, but I need human interaction, preferably with the people that love you”.

The sudden statement has you pausing, looking over to her with an expression that’s a mixture of emotions.

“You’ve got me, isn’t that enough?” You say with a half smile as you continue scooping pasta on to the plates.

Expected of you, that tiptoe of a reply. You’re good at it and Tara gives you props, but she knows if she asks straightforward that you won’t be able to tell her no. Only she doesn’t want to have to ask, because that’s not the point.

The point should be that you want to introduce her to the people in your life. But you’re hesitant, why Tara still isn’t sure, however considering her relationship with her own parents. Tara is the last to judge.

“You’re more than enough, but it’s my turn to know you. Is that so hard to believe?”

That makes you pause, and this is one of those moments Tara finds herself prideful with how well she’s learned to read you. How you register she’s throwing your own words back at you, the smile that breaks out across your face tells her it all.

“Okay. I’m hearing you. You’re right” you sigh softly, doing that thing where you square your shoulders when you’re getting serious, “how about tomorrow? It’s a weekend day? I’m sure everyone will be free”.

It’s this moment that Tara’s excitement instantly shifts into dread as she realizes she’s actually going to meet the people that matter to you. Your people.

Now, Tara is a people person, she deals with people all the time with what she does for a living. The hardest of them to the most broken.

But this? This terrifies her, and even when you lean in to press the softest of kisses to her temple, her insides churn uneasily.

What if they don’t approve?

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of a wine bottle popping, making Tara’s eyes snap over to where you’re pouring two glasses. You offer her one, to which she gladly takes, a soft clink following the two glasses meeting. That fucking smile gets her every time. So full of love.

And then Tara comes to a second realization, that she doesn’t care.

Because having you? Tara needs nothing more.

day 7

You’d think for a Saturday, the pub would be packed.

The pub itself is a cozy and lively space, with a warm and inviting atmosphere. It’s larger than a typical small town bar, with a bar on one end and a few round tables scattered around the space. The walls were painted a deep red color, and the floor was made of dark wood. Soft, warm lighting cast from lights woven through the wooden rafters along the ceiling, and a small corner of the space was set up with a pool table. Chatter and laughter fills the space as a handful of patrons mill about drinking.

Tara can say with pride she’s finally met three of your childhood friends.

So far, Anika is her favorite. She’s full of life, positivity, and an abundance of embarrassing stories from your younger years. You two banter back and forth like siblings, your incessant desire to remind her you’re two months older. Anika quick to remind you who made sure you actually took care of yourself so that you somewhat functioned like a normal human being.

Tara doesn’t even try to hide her smile.

Ethan is quiet, but not in a bad way, more of a wallflower. His comments are an attempt to insert himself into conversation, Tara takes note of the way you always give his shoulder a reassuring pat paired with a wide smile. How he eases, his discomfort by the public space alleviating.

To balance the group, is Quinn, the wild card. From observation Tara can tell she’s the polar opposite of her brother Ethan. When she isn’t eyeing any man or woman she considers attractive that walks into the pub, the redhead is assessing Tara with a subtle smirk. A flirt through and through without question. She’s charismatic, quick witted, and a bit air headed.

The dynamic works, oddly enough, and Tara lives for it. Being present, seeing you with your friends, and she can tell how much they care for you. It’s clear you’ve all been through a lot together, which only deepens her curiosity on your past further.

You don’t talk about it, this is the closest taste to understanding what makes you who you are that Tara has ever come.

But that’s a question for another time, perhaps in the privacy of just the two of you.

When your laughter rings out, full of warmth and from your belly, Tara’s smile softens. You look so happy, so complete, and when your eyes meet she has one simple thought.

Tara is completely, stupidly, in love with you.

She isn’t sure when she fell, and it’s not like she didn’t already figure as much, but it’s without a doubt now.

And then comes the question she’d been waiting for all night.

“So how did you two meet?” it’s Ethan that asks, boyish grin and curiosity in his expression.

You and Tara share a look, having already made an agreement prior not to mention the… darker details.

“Well, I asked her for drinks-“

“Oh bullshit, that’s not how it started and you know it” Tara instantly cuts you off, grinning as you give her an accusing look, which only makes your friends laugh.

“Tell us how it really went Tara, god knows your local lover over here was probably a blubbering mess” Anika comments, which instantly has you trying to voice a rebuke.

Tara quickly slaps a hand over your mouth, a wicked grin growing across her face “this one was hopeless from the start, but it’s not like I made it easy-“

You swat her hand away, jumping on it with a dramatic scoff, “oh come on I totally wooed you with my charm and pool playing skills-“

“You didn’t win once”.

“Yeah but-“

“And you quit smoking cigarettes because I told you about my asthma.”

That has all three of your friends in disbelief, Anika praising Tara for getting you to quit. Quinn is instantly giving you shit for buckling so quick, and Ethan is completely flabbergasted.

“No fucking way. Did you freeze hell over or something?”

Tara grins smugly, ignoring the way you’re sputtering out, slowly giving up trying to defend yourself.

“You were snatching my cigarettes from me for days, don’t act like you didn’t-“

“Just admit it, you were down bad. I only had to mention it once”.

You suddenly smile, giving her a look that sends a small shiver down her spine, “yeah well you acted like you didn’t care but you just couldn’t help yourself”.

Okay, true, but Tara isn’t backing down.

She reaches up and grabs your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks, making your face scrunch in a cute way.

“Come on, with this face? I was bound to cave eventually.”

It makes everyone laugh harder than they should, and you smile more than you should, but when she kisses you it’s full of love.

It’s always been love, even if it took you both some time to get there.

“You better keep her or I’m disowning you”.

The kiss breaks, you huff in irritation, Tara laughs brightly as she leans against you.

“Oh my god, fuck off, Anika”.

day 9

The bathroom is dimly lit by a few tall candles placed around the space, casting a soft and warm glow in the room.

The air was filled with the scent of the candles, a compilation of different fragrances mixed together. The space felt secluded and cozy, on the bathroom counter is your vinyl record player, the sweet lyrics of The Louvre playing over the faint sound of the candles crackling.

The lighting isn’t all that makes the intimate atmosphere, the small bath was filled to the brim with warm, bubbly water, creating a cozy space for the two of you within. The tub is narrow, forcing you to be close to one another as you relax in the water. Despite the tight quarters, you’re comfortable together, the clumps of suds providing the only barrier on the water surface.

Tara is currently nestled between your legs, her back flush to your front. You’re fitted together perfectly, always perfectly, it’s almost cliché to conclude you had to have been made for each other.

Her eyes are closed, hair pulled back into a messy bun as she relaxes her head back into the crook of your neck. If it weren’t for the way her thumb gently caresses your knuckles where your fingers are interlocked, you’d be quick to assume she’d fallen asleep.

You hum along quietly to the music, your free hand coming up to absently tuck a strand of her hair out of her face and behind her ear. The corners of her mouth twitch, and she leans back into you further. If that is at all possible.

“I could get use to this” Tara murmurs after a lapse of silence, the soft words filling the tranquility.

“Me too” you whisper against the curve of her ear, your heart fluttering as you notice small goosebumps form on what skin you can see. Even when surrounded by the warm water the tub provides.

It’s moments like this, with Tara, that make you wonder if this was all you’d ever needed your whole life. Just life, with her.

That thought alone, makes you far more grateful that you made the choices you did, that led you to Tara in the first place.

Having Tara here in New York, away from the otherworldly chaos, no expectations or unavoidable demands from anything or anyone.

It makes you appreciate even the hard times, and the lessons it taught you. Never did you think you’d ever be this happy, this at peace.

You’re completely, unabashedly, in love with her.

If you’re being honest with yourself, you don’t think it can get better than this.

day 10

Tara and Anika are bonding over how you need decorations, that your apartment is too bland.

You aren’t sure whether this is a good thing or not.

“You’re fucked, bud” Ethan comments as he lays down a red nine amongst the discard pile laying in the middle of your coffee table.

“What’s mine is hers” you say with a ghost of a smile, dropping a red four.

Quinn snorts in amusement from your left, placing a green four on top of your card which has both you and Ethan groaning.

“Uno, also, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this with a girl before” Quinn says as she shoots you a smirk just as Ethan drops a green draw two, “and that’s saying a lot all considering I’ve never seen you serious with anyone”.

You roll your eyes, pulling from the draw deck and sighing with relief as you drop the green eight you’d gotten.

“Like you have room to talk, you haven’t even been in a relationship-“

Ethan snickers when Quinn grabs a pillow off the couch and smacks you in the back of the head with it, making you suck in air through your teeth as you rip the pillow from her.

Raising it, ready to strike-

“Dont you dare, behave” you hear Anika scold, making you pause mid-movement, shooting her a glare that doesn’t even hold light to the one you’re receiving from her.

The fact Tara is hiding a laugh behind her hand doesn’t help either.

“How about you stop jumping on my case, huh? My apartment is fine the way it is” you shoot towards the both of them, squaring your shoulders.

“You need life in here, some art on the walls won’t kill you” Tara tries to add in, to which Quinn follows up with her own opinion.

As always.

“I agree, these walls are as bland as Ethan’s dating life-“

You swing the pillow down on Quinn, cutting her sentence off as she yelps at the abrupt flop of the pillow against the side of her head.

“CHILDREN” Anika groans, Tara laughing as she watches you and Quinn start shoving at each other while Ethan argues his case on his dating life.

It falls on deaf ears.

“-what’s the point in decorating if I might move to Woodsboro to be with Tara, anyways” you say abruptly, which has Quinn stop on her assaults to look over to the woman in question. Everyone does.

Tara however, doesn’t miss a beat as she holds your gaze, expression unreadable as she raise one singular eyebrow.

“And if I decide I want to move to New York?”

A subtle tension fills the apartment, not even Quinn has anything to say for once.

“You guys joining in on this now? Or what?” Ethan cuts the silence with his effort to change the subject, and for once it helps as Anika and Tara head over to jump in on the card game.

Quinn shoots you a look as she regathers the cards, but you don’t have time to wonder what it means as Tara drops down to sit on the ground next to you. Purposefully bumping her shoulder into yours harder than necessary.

You whip your head around, jaw set and eyes narrowed playfully. Even when she’s trying to look serious, you know it’s not that deep.

But, it is.

“We’re gonna have to talk about this, you know” you mutter to her as Anika demands that she be the one to distribute the cards, since Quinn is known to cheat.

As argument breaks out between the two of them, you and Tara find yourselves in a momentary bubble. Your eyes searching hers, she doing the same to yours.

“Tomorrow” she mutters, her hand gliding across the rug, your own instinctively slipping off the table to rest atop hers.

It’s a silent agreement, because the conversation won’t be easy, but even that doesn’t matter.

You’re pretty sure you’re both going to be on the same page.

Quinn ends up winning the next three games of Uno.

You accuse Ethan of slipping her cards again, she does have the better poker face than him after all.

And when he turns beet red, sputtering, war breaks out.

This. This is your family, it always has been. And with Tara?

It feels complete.

day 11

Intimacy comes in many forms, as does affection.

But with you? It’s indescribable.

The level of comfort and safety she feels with you is almost scary, with how quickly she opened up to you. Tara should’ve been terrified.

But if you’ve ever been right about anything, is that Tara just couldn’t help herself.

Tara raged to Sam about you back in Woodsboro on two separate occasions.

The first, after the incident at the lake with Wes. After she’d found you at that diner when she’d gotten off her shift late. After she’d gotten to know you a little better.

The second, was after you’d tried to leave. After you’d returned, told her you’d only come back for her. Reminded her how you’d promised to never leave her, after trying to leave her.

During Tara’s first rant, Sam had told her to stay away from you. How you were nothing but trouble from the outside, how you were reckless and acted with intrusive behavior. By the second, Sam was giving Tara a look somewhere close to sympathetic, with a dash of understanding.

Tara is pretty sure Sam knew before she knew back then, even with her initial reluctance towards you.

But now, as the two of you lay in your bed, a tangle of limbs that leaves wonder where you start and Tara ends. Tara knows.

Not even the movie playing idly in the background helps quiet Tara’s thoughts. The last few days have meant so much to her, life with you is everything she didn’t know she needed.

Tara hates that she is having a hard time admitting that to herself, because even with the phone calls back home to her friends and Sam, she’s painfully reluctant to return.

Or maybe, she’s just grown comfortable being checked out of reality. Now knowing the comfort of your arms, your home, your people, your life. She likes normalcy. She likes the absence is stress, wondering if someone she knows will disappear in a month.

Tara is starting to worry that there’s a slight chance, her trauma is catching up to her, now that she has room to breathe. To love. To live.

Can she go home? Can she leave you? It’s already a miracle that she found you.

Well, technically, you found her. She simply cradles the gift that is your heart in the palm of her scarred hand.

Does she deserve it? She deserves to be happy, just like anyone else. But at what cost? Will it be worth it, if it’s not what she’s desperately hoping it to be? Will this break her? Will you break her?

“You’re thinking awful hard” you murmur softly, your hand that had been idly scratching her back affectionately comes up to dip your fingers under her chin. The small touch has Tara lift her head off your chest, propping herself up on one elbow to look at you fully.

“I can’t be that predictable already”.

“Not at all, but you’ve got a giveaway” you say with a small smile.

That makes Tara scoff quietly, smacking your chest gently, which only makes you laugh as she protests “I do not!”

“You get this tension right here” you reach up to delicately trace the space between her eyebrows, “that and you haven’t made a single comment on the bad acting in this movie”.

She can’t help but smile at that, even as she rolls her eyes “yeah whatever”.

You’re analyzing her, she feels it, so she continues before you ask.

“What are we doing?”

Of course she expects a quip, sarcasm, a witty comment to ease her thoughts. Instead, you do better.

“I’d like to think there is a place where someone loves you both before, and after they learn what sustains you from the inside. And us-“ you pause, raising your hand with her palm pressed to yours.

“We’re just trying to find where that will home us, together” you trace her fingers with yours, captivated by the simple feeling of her skin against yours.

Tara never understood the depth of yearning for someone, anything. But when her eyes find yours, and finds just how deep your love for her runs, it hurts almost as much as it reassures her.

Which now begs the question: New York or Woodsboro? Somewhere in between?

“I can’t take you from your home”.

“Then you know I can’t ask the same of you” you reply just as softly, “I don’t care where-“

“Me either”.

A pause.

This pause, this moment of intimate silence, was a strange comfort, like a warm embrace on a cold night. There was no need for words, no need for argument. If there’s one thing you’ll never struggle with, is communicating, and that alone guarantees that eventually.

Eventually, you’ll come to a solution.

In this perfect, peaceful silence, there was an unspoken understanding between the two, an understanding that words alone could never express. It was a moment that transcended language, a moment that spoke in a language all its own, a language of trust, love, and connection.

It offered no resolute answer, and it doesn’t help that Tara flies home tomorrow.

But just maybe, right now, there didn’t need to be.

previous, next

[mountainsandmayhem]

Wings. Fire. Magic. Part 2

Joel Miller x Female Reader (18+)

Masterlist || Part One

Summary: Joel takes you to The King despite your protests and everything he thought he knew is changed.

CW: I don’t want to give any spoilers so I’m just going to say that there’s some violence near the end. No smut, yet. 

A/N: Thank you @mermaidgirl30 for beta reading this for me and to everyone who has commented and reblogged the first part of this story.

Word Count: 3.2k

“You do know what the king will do to me, right?” You break the silence that has been surrounding you two since last night as Joel settles behind you on Remmer. The dragon didn’t leave your side all night, curling around you as you slept, keeping you warm and protected.

“The same thing they do with every other prisoner.” He says flatly, as if it’s not your life or the livelihood of your family that he’s about to doom. 

“He’ll either slice off my wings to take the power for himself or send me to a breeding camp.” Remmer shutters slightly underneath you before taking off for the sky. 

The sudden movement slides you back in the saddle, your body pressing against Joel’s strong chest. You can feel the cold buckles of his leathers pressing against your back and a dull ache thumps from your bandaged wing. He doesn’t push you off or adjust himself away from you, something in him has softened since he saved you last night. You lean back into him slightly to test his reaction. Even though he’s about to take you to The King, which will most likely end up with you dead, you somehow feel safe with him. That feeling of security only intensifies when he gathers the reins with one hand and then moves the other to wrap around your body.

The soft facial hair along his jawline tickles the shell of your ear as he says, “Typical Fae paranoia. You think everyone is against you.” 

You glare straight ahead at the clouds, “You saved me from sprites who wanted to slice me open for their own gain last night. Everyone is against us.” 

You scoot forward, no longer wanting any part of your body against his. Joel stops you, pulling you back against his body by your waist. His voice softens, thumb rubbing gentle circles along your side, “By not taking you to The King I’m equally as guilty. You know that.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Joel Miller. Guardian of Dragons, Warrior and Keeper of The Realm.” 

Something about you using his full titles in that sarcastic tone sets his teeth on edge. He has sworn to protect The Realm. He had to once The King found out about Remmer, that’s how it works. You can’t raise animals capable of mass destruction and not swear some sort of allegiance to The King. 

He’s taken prisoners in before, dropped them with The King and thought of them no more. But seeing you on the ground, screaming for help as those males tried to take your wings…It reminded him of when he found Remmer.

She was just a baby, no bigger than a baby bear. Her little screams filled the empty forest and when he finally found the source she was chained down, men standing around her arguing over who would be the one to cut her wings. Much like Fae wings, dragon wings are sought after and poached; however, they’re only used for dark magic.

Something in Joel snapped at Rem’s sad cries. He killed every single one of those men, all fifteen of them, with just his axe and his bare hands. 

When he unleashed the chains around the little black dragon she just stared at him curiously with bright orange eyes. He did what his father had taught him and walked away slowly, never turning his back, and avoiding eye contact. She bounced along after him and sat at his feet when he stopped walking. They’ve been almost inseparable ever since.

Joel shakes his head, you stole from him. And he has to leave it at that, because if he thinks about it too hard he’ll turn around. When he finally caught up to you in the woods the other day he wasn’t expecting to find someone as soft and pretty as you. A pinkish blush spread across your cheeks from the exertion of running and flying as fast as you could. The orange glow from the stolen egg that you hid behind your back encased you in a warm and inviting glow. If it wasn’t for the terror in your eyes at seeing Remmer, and Joel’s anger at whomever took the egg, he would have dropped to his knees right there. Gave you everything you wanted.

She stole from you, he reminds himself again.

A little voice in the back of his head speaks up, to help her family. How many Fae are you about to doom?

He can understand that call from deep in your gut to care for family. He would have done anything to save Sarah. Anything. The small hand tattoo he has over his heart warms at the thought of her. She had succumbed to an illness that takes many human children born in this world. He held her frail body as she grew weaker and weaker. When she took her last breath in his arms it had almost killed him.

As you and Joel begin to descend below the clouds a beautiful castle appears. The King’s castle sits embedded in a mountain, almost as if the mountain grew it there. A winding stone staircase leads down to a colourful village, houses and shops in pastel pinks, yellows, oranges and greens run along the winding shore. The same turquoise blue water from the meadow fills the river, wrapping around the mountain and out as far as you can see. Along the front wall of the castle are blue and white flags with the head of a lion. They flutter in the breeze and your heart matches their rhythm. 

You are going to die today.

Your breaths start coming in rapidly and you squeeze your wings tightly against your back. Fear spreads out from your chest, it feels like millions of worms wiggling and inching across your body. 

Rem swoops down and lands on top of a large flat tower on the edge of the castle. You feel Joel hesitate behind you, and when you turn your head to look at him his Adam's Apple bobs with a hard swallow. He slides down the dragon, she lets out a whine and Joel walks around to meet her gaze.

“I know,” he says quietly, stroking her strong neck. 

What does he know? What does Remmer know? The fear intensifies, you’re going to be slaughtered. You’re sure of it. 

You stare at Joel from atop his dragon. He reaches a hand up to you and you slide your shaky fingers into his grip, the glowing green cuff that’s eradicated your magic sliding down your delicate wrist. Joel's jaw flexes when he sees it. 

You swing your leg off the saddle and stand on Rem’s bent leg. Joel reaches up and places his large hands on your waist, lifting you and guiding your body down along his until your feet are planted on the floor in front of him. You’re so close that when you look up you think you might see a hint of sadness and regret in his eyes.

He says something quietly to Rem before grabbing your arm and leading you down a long winding staircase, the top of this tower must be a landing pad for dragons and other beasts. When you reach the bottom, he hesitates again before stepping out into a wide, outdoor stone hallway. You hear Rem’s cries as she flies off of the tower. 

Joel’s grip tightens on the back of your arm as he leads you towards two large wooden doors, guards flanking on each side. Their armour is emblazoned with Lions heads on their chest. You think you might stop breathing, terror is coursing through you and you’re sure the only reason you’re upright is because of Joel’s strong grip on your bicep. You walk along beside him, counting the steps to your impending doom.

When the doors part, Joel leads you down a long great room. There’s guards posted up along the walls, standing below stained glass windows. They’re easily twenty feet tall, pictures of The King's triumphs painted in the glass. Each one more brutal than the next. 

At the end of the hallway is a small set of stairs, The King and a few of his advisors sitting up top. There’s a small audience of men around the bottom of the stairs. Joel comes to a halt and bows his head at The King. You stand still. Pleasantries or not, The King will hurt you. He’s much older than you expected, balding under his crown, sun spots and age lines across his face.

“Joel Miller,” he says. His voice reminds you of the calm before a storm, eerily peaceful yet sets you on edge. He continues, “Guardian of Dragons, Warrior and Keeper of the Realm. To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“Good day, your majesty. I’m afraid that I have brought you a thief. She tried to steal an egg. It was recovered unharmed and she has been cooperative.”

His thumb brushes along your bicep. Is he defending you? 

The King laughs cruelly. “Did you catch me a fairy?” 

Joel’s grip tightens on your arm. You told him this would happen. Neither of you respond to his question. 

“How old are you, fairy?” He almost spits the word fairy at you. 

“Six hundred and thirty seven,” you say, just above a whisper, your throat is so dry that it’s nearly impossible to talk. 

“Is it the dungeon or the breeding camps for you?” He says to himself. The vile king's eyes trail up and down your body. You’re above the typical breeding age, but at least in a breeding camp you know what to expect. 

His eyes meet Joels, “Does she have magic?”

“I’m not sure, Your Highness. I cuffed her as soon as I caught her.”

He leans over to one of his advisors, whispering to him with a cruel smile on his face, eyes locked on your body. You can feel him trying to burn through your clothes and if Joel wasn’t holding your arm you’d cross them over yourself. 

The King sits back, linking his fingers and resting his hands on his large round belly. Fae families everywhere are starving and dying, meanwhile this “king” is living a life of glutton. His lips curl up as he says, “undress her, someone fetch the sorcerer.”

Joel moves to step in front of you when two guards grab him. You reach out for him, suddenly desperate for him not to leave you. More green bands clamp around your arm courtesy of the guards before they move their bony fingers to the clasps and zippers of your leathers. The zipper sounds grind at your teeth as they begin to expose you to The King. You wouldn’t be surprised if he commanded each of these guards to take a turn before you were sent to whatever abhorrent punishment The King and his advisors had just decided on.

Your jacket is ripped from your body before a dagger is taken to the front of your shirt. Slicing through it like a boat on water, the sound of the fabric tearing ringing in your ears. The cold air hits your now exposed breasts and the men of the audience look as if they’ve grown hungry.

Your eyes search desperately for Joel as the guards move to remove your pants, he is nowhere to be found. The leather of your belt sounds like a knife against a stone as they yank it from your body. They lift you slightly off the ground, hoisted up like some sort of sick trophy, to remove your knee high boots, quickly followed by your pants being tugged at the hem of the ankle. 

You’re naked. Exposed. Just you and your wings.

A man with horn rimmed burgundy glasses and a sharp three piece suit of the same colour enters the room. The Sorcerer. He flicks a finger and a table with shackles at the four corners appears in front of you and the guards.

“On her stomach,” The Sorcerer says in a clinical voice, his shoes clicking on the cobblestone floor as he approaches you.

As the guards strap you to the table you finally catch the sign of Joel. He’s pinned to the ground by two guards, staring up at you with guilt and shame swirling through his warm brown eyes. 

You push your lips into a thin line and shake your head at him. You knew this would happen, and now you refuse to break his eye contact. You are going to make him watch what he’s done to you, what you warned him would be done to you.

You hear footsteps behind you and the back of your eyes burn with tears. A cold and sterile hand grips around the bottom top of your wing, hand brushing against your bare ass, before tugging hard. You stare coldly at Joel as The Sorcerer stretches out your iridescent left wing. The pressure behind your eyes builds. You’re going to die here.

“Amazing,” The King chuffs, he’s standing beside your right shoulder, your face turned away from him. “Six hundred and thirty seven, you say.” He’s not asking, mostly talking to himself as The Sorcerer moves to open up the other wing, the joint of it still wrapped in Joel’s bandage. 

The King’s sharp fingers move to remove the bandage and then he trails a clammy finger down your spinal cord and over the swell of one of your ass cheeks. A silent tear slips down your face as you watch Joel’s eyes turn dark.

The King scrapes his nails down the glittery, translucent proteins of your wings and bile rises in your throat. You feel the blood drain from your face as you continue staring down at Joel. 

“Can she mate?” The King asks.

“Flip her.” The Sorcerer says, the guards move quickly, armour clanging against each other as they fiddle with the chains holding you down. They flip you roughly, slamming you onto you back and then the chains click and rattle again to hold you in place. You stare up at the wood vaulted ceiling. There’s easily over a hundred onlookers, and you can feel their eyes roaming over your naked body. You feel sick.

The Sorcerer approaches, placing his glasses on the table beside you. You allow your cheek to fall to the table away from him, making eye contact with Joel once again. His eyes are black with anger, and when The Sorcerer's cold hands press on your lower abdomen Joel’s face turns almost murderous. 

Black mist snakes out from his palms, twisting and curling until it belts around your middle. At first it feels cold and tingly, almost like when you sit cross legged for too long and your foot falls asleep. Soon, the magic in it relaxes you, eyelids becoming heavy as you blink lazily at Joel. 

Just when you feel safe, the mist gets heavy, and then it starts to squeeze, pushing itself painfully into your skin. The pressure makes it hard to breathe and you try to cry out, mouth falling open in a silent scream. It feels like air is trapped in your lungs, it’s crushing you. Panic crosses your face as you stare at Joel. The world goes dark around you, Joel fading into the distance. You hear a sharp, cruel laugh before all your senses darken.

Joel 

My whole life I’ve been led to believe that Fae are paranoid and lazy. They steal for their own enjoyment and think the world is out to get them. Since meeting you, I’ve realized how very wrong I have been. And now you’re laying on a table, completely naked, being poked and prodded at for The King's own sick enjoyment. A king that I was led to believe was good and kind.

“She may be able to be bred,” The Sorcerer says, “but she’s old, so it might not take.” 

The King thinks for a while, his beady little eyes darting around her body. My palms tingle with the sudden urge to slam my beloved axe right across his face.

“Take her wings.” He says flatly before a cruel glint crosses his face, “but wake her up first, I want to hear her screams and watch the life leave her eyes as she dies from the blood loss.”

“Wait,” I call from the ground, panic swirling in my gut. 

The King looks down at me as if I’m mud on his boots. He flicks a hand upwards at the guards holding me and they lift me roughly.

“I’d like to take her as my slave.”

The king scoffs. “You what? Do you know how rare wings and magic Fae are?”

“I’ll give you three of Remmer’s eggs.”

The entire room goes quiet. For the past three hundred years, only dragon trainers have owned dragons. If they’re needed for war we, as Warriors and Keepers of The Realm, lead them. Kings are often tempted by the fiercest of dragons and Rem scares even the bravest of creatures, if only they knew she liked to play with butterflies in her spare time and used to be afraid of her own fire.

The king contemplates for a second, waving a hand again signaling for the guards to let me go. “I want eight.” He states. 

“I have three, I can bring you two more the next time they breed.” I focus on keeping my facial expression flat. 

The King stares me down, almost as if to see if I’ll flinch or back down. He makes his way back to his throne, hands linked behind his back as he saunters up the stairs. If we were alone I would easily kill that man with the lightest swing of my axe.

After settling down in his plush royal blue throne he says, “Deal.” 

I step towards you, still wrapped in that inky black mist, face contorted with pain and fear. 

“No so fast,” The King says, “it’s a deal, but I keep her wings until I have all the eggs.”

The Sorcerer snaps his fingers and the mist moves to blanket your entire body, melting the chains off of your milky white skin. He jerks his chin towards the sky and your limp body levitates off the table. You spin like meat above fire, and I suppose that that’s exactly how you’ve been seen your entire life, and I brought you to the fucking fire. 

The mist pulls itself together into a sharp line and slices down your back. I want to tear my eyes away at the carnage but I did this. I did this to you and I deserve to feel guilty about all of this for the rest of my life. 

Thick red blood coats your back before the mist travels over you again and cauterizes your wing joints. Two glowing blue scars is all that’s left. The black mist encases your wings, sets them high above The King's throne like a hunting trophy. 

Your body falls back down to the table and I walk over to you, keeping my face set in a hard line, not daring to give away my true feelings to The King.

===================================

Taglist:

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[scribbling-dragon]

the world’s my oyster (i’m the pearl)

summary:

Um,” he stares at Scott for a moment longer. “Can I, uh, can I come in? Or,” he allows himself to trail off, still watching Scott. The crown certainly suits him, at least, even though the pinkish-orange colour of the coral is not something he’d ever have considered to go well with cyan.

The door swings open in front of him, and he almost startles at the abruptness of it, jerking his hand back and down to his side. “So,” Scott’s grinning, that grin that makes his teeth look far sharper than they actually are, “you've come crawling back, have you?”

“It’s,” he laughs, inching forward, “It’s not crawling back, it’s…sheepishly wandering in.” He smiles a little as he continues to inch his way forward, sliding past Scott and through the rather narrow ‘doorway’ when Scott doesn't move to stop him from entering.

-

Or, a 5 + 1 where Scott is acting suspicious, and Martyn is trying to figure out why

(ao3 link)

(11,149 words)

yeah the title’s a h2o reference. it’s comedy gold, alright (and mer scott. it just fits yk)

I.

The small, rather rickety path out into the water is what first grabs at his attention, snagging it and holding it as he steps a little closer. He crouches, trying not to come off as too suspicious, even though he is acting incredibly, incredibly suspicious right now, and anyone that might see him would be well-founded in whatever boogeyman-related accusation they throw his way.

The curse itches beneath his skin, far more intense than it had been in the previous games. It ticks alongside his slowly counting timer. The itching only grows more fierce the longer he sits around twiddling his thumbs, but he sits, squatted in the bushes and sheltered by the trees overhead, and watches as Scott moves around the small island he’s constructing.

As Martyn watches, he notices the way that Scott moves around the island is actually rather odd, especially as he occasionally jumps away from the edge, as though he’s been burned- which is impossible, because it’s water.

Despite his apparent hatred for the water, Scott continues to build where he is, sticking firmly to the centre of the small island that is beginning to take shape around him. The only part that remains unchanged is the small shelter right beside the bridge, though Scott does glance over at it occasionally.

More than once, Martyn swears Scott looks directly at him as well, eyes pausing for a moment over his hiding spot before he returns to whatever he was doing before. It makes the curse thrum a little louder, a little heavier, beneath his skin in anticipation. He squashes it down a little further, before creeping out from behind the bush he’d chosen to hide behind for the past…however long.

His timer tells him he’s only spent five minutes crouched there, but the moon had been high in the sky when he first started watching Scott, casting most of his surroundings into shadow - only the island had been lit up, a small beacon on light in the darkness swamping everything else - but now that same moon is incredibly close to setting, and the horizon is beginning to tinge pink with the sunrise.

He doesn't believe these timers one bit, not at all. There’s something wrong with them, but either everyone’s too caught up in the newness of this game to notice, or they have noticed and simply don't care enough to question it. Martyn didn't believe in the twenty-four hours, anyway, not when Grian announced it in such an odd way. And those watching on would hardly be satisfied with a day of entertainment.

The dirt bridge crumbles a little beneath his feet, and he pauses, holding his breath as he waits to see if it will take his weight- if it will betray his entrance onto the island. Scott’s back remains turned to him, and he watches as the man sifts through one of the chests he just set up.

He gives no reaction to Martyn’s approach, so he continues onwards, making an effort to place his feet a little lighter as he approaches, wary of alerting Scott. Martyn is well aware of Scott’s reputation in these games, of his seemingly inhuman hearing that catches even the smallest of sounds- Joel had told him once, in one of the afterparties they host once the games come to a close, that Scott had found him and Grian during last life because he breathed too loud. The man’s ears are entirely normal, too, not at all pointed or giving any indication that they're anything but human ears with normal, human-like hearing.

He realises, as Scott begins to turn, that he’s just been stood on the man’s bridge and staring at him like a creep. He scrambles for something to do, eyes landing on the odd shelter once more, spying the boat lodged into the side of the island and containing one zombified villager. Perfect.

He lunges for the boat, throwing himself into it and beginning to slowly push off the edge of the island, ignoring the thumping in his heart- the roaring in his ears that demands he kills Scott then and there, that he had had his back turned for several long minutes, in which he could have neatly lodged an axe in the man’s back and be rid of the curse.

“Uh,” he glances back, one hand still resting against the edge of the island, still in the process of getting the boat unlodged, Scott’s turned to face him, eyes wide with…shock? It doesn't look like shock, more like surprise. Martyn almost begins laughing. “No thank you.” Scott says, and the man is beside him a moment later, moving almost scarily quick, but he doesn't have much time to focus on that, instead focusing on not overbalancing and dragging them both into the water and Scott yanks him from the boat.

He stumbles a little as his feet make contact with ground, foot catching on nothing, and he grabs onto Scott’s shoulders to steady himself, gripping tightly to Scott’s shirt. And he almost succeeds in pulling both of them backwards into the water as he tips back, already laughing.

The water rushes up around him, and he inhales some as he laughs, popping back to the surface, coughing. His hair obscures most of his vision, dripping in front of his eyes even as he pushes it back out of the way; it only falls forward again, obscuring his vision once more and sticking to his face.

He continues laughing as soon as he’s certain he’s not going to inhale any more water and choke to death. He makes a grab for one of his sandals as it begins to float past, and it only makes him laugh a little harder at the sheer absurdity of it, having to grip onto the edge of the small island to make sure he doesn't go under again.

“Aw, man.” He manages to calm down momentarily, huffing out a breath, breathing out slowly as it threatens to turn into a laugh again. “You sounded so offended, man.” He grins up at Scott, pushing his hair back from his face again- seriously, what’s even the point of wearing a headband if it doesn't keep his hair out of his eyes.

“You tried to steal my villager,” Scott frowns down at him, but Martyn can see the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile, almost a laugh. “I think I have some right to be offended.” Scott tips his chin upwards, looking down at him almost haughtily- something that Martyn would only believe if he had known Scott for less than five minutes. The guy has some odd flair for the dramatics. It’s a shame that he and Ren never teamed, they would certainly have been interesting to watch.

“I guess so, thought you didn't hear me, though.”

“I heard you.” Scott says, looking down at him. The skin around his eyes catches the light slightly, flashing bright, but when Martyn takes a closer look, it’s just some rather bright eyeshadow the other has decided to wear. “I just thought I’d give you an easy kill.”

“An easy kill?” He laughs it off, ignoring how the itch beneath his skin seems to intensify with those few words- he already knows, he might as well. He shakes the thoughts off, pulling himself from the water. “Wait, wait, you think I’m the boogey?”

“Yes.”

“Aw, c’mon man,” Scott hops back a few steps as he approaches, looking more than a little nervous as Martyn steps forward. “That hurts, you think I've come here to just kill you in cold blood? Can't I just visit a friend?”

“While that’s a nice thought, I unfortunately don't believe you.” Scott smiles, expression not matching his words, the eyeshadow smudged around the corners of his eyes shimmering in the light again, drawing Martyn’s eyes back to it. “You got that whole-” Scott gestures at him, “-thing about you. Twitchy, like you're ready to swing at someone as soon as the opportunity presents itself.”

“I mean, you did that, didn't you?” His clothes stick to his skin rather uncomfortably, clinging. He finds a piece of seaweed stuck to his calf as well, peeling it off as he speaks. He flicks it at Scott, for a laugh, watching as the man jumps out of the seaweed’s path and sends a glare his way. “Poor Skizz, the man just wanted to chat with you.”

“He set it up so well, Martyn,” Scott groans, suspicion dissolving for a moment as he complains. “Everyone’s been getting on to me about it, especially after Bdubs’ stunt- which also wasn't my fault! But he was just saying all the right things- it was far too funny for me to let the opportunity pass up.” And Martyn’s sure that They rather enjoyed the show too, especially from the one person that refused to cooperate with their schemes the last two games.

“I hear you,” he laughs, even as he attempts to slip his foot back into his wet sandal without fiddling about with the straps too much. His clothes are going to be wet for the next while and the sun’s not even up yet meaning he’s going to be walking around in squeaky shoes for several long hours- no way he’s sneaking up on anyone like that. “But still not the boogey.” He grins, only sweating a little as Scott continues to look unconvinced- one word and everyone would start avoiding him like the plague.

“Mhm,” Scott looks him up and down, with a judgemental enough look that he almost cowers beneath it. But Martyn’s built of stronger stuff than that, staring back at Scott in return. “If you say so, then.”

Scott’s lips quirk up in the corner a little bit, as though there’s a joke only he’s been let in on. And Martyn has a pretty good idea that he’s probably the butt of said joke.

“Have fun sneaking up on people in your squeaky shoes,” Scott says, which. Great. Scott’s already noticed that and he’s not even moved yet, this is actually hopeless. He’s going to be yellow within the day, and there’s nothing he can even do about it.

“Still not the boogey.” He reminds. He leaves Scott to it, though, turning around and walking back down the bridge. His sandals squeak as he walks, and he does his best to ignore the snicker behind him. “Yeah, yeah,” he shouts back, turning around to face Scott, “laugh it up!”

He slips as he turns, some dirt giving way beneath his heel, and almost falls back into the ocean. He manages to regain his footing quickly, scrambling to maintain his balance on the rickety little path, glaring at Scott when the man’s snickering turns into a sharp bark of laughter.

He grumbles to himself, mind already running over the few ideas he has left, searching for an idea. His shoes continue squeaking as he walks, and all it does is distract him from his game plans, dragging his mind back towards Scott, and the man’s odd avoidance of the water’s edge and just water in general.

It could also, very easily, be that the man was avoiding him. But he looked far more nervous than he needed to as Martyn approached him after his brief dip in the ocean, far too nervous for someone that was just worried about being murdered. And that also doesn't explain his behaviour before Martyn even approached, avoiding the surrounding ocean like his life depended on it; and unless Scott’s hearing has reached new levels of freaky, then he definitely wasn't watching for Martyn then.

When he glances back, Scott is still keeping his distance from the water.

He considers it for a moment, then shoves the thought aside. He has far more important things to worry about than Scott acting weird- he’s always acting weird! He’s a weird man.

=== === ===

II.

He stares at the ground in front of him, the bucket in his hands warm as he stares at the empty spot, where there had been a cow only moments before. He glances over at Etho from the corner of his eye, biting on his tongue so he doesn't start laughing at possibly the worst moment he’s had all day.

He still aches from the pufferfish Etho had flung at him earlier. It’s a very good reminder of why he should definitely not start laughing at something that is actually very, very bad.

“Dude,” Impulse is staring at him as well, face set into one of those I'm-not-mad-just-disappointed looks.

“I did not mean for that to happen,” he says. And he can hear the laugh bubbling in his throat, threatening to break free if he continues talking much longer. He clutches the lava bucket a little tighter, before deciding that is probably a bad thing to do because the metal is already heating up to a hazardous temperature. And he likes being able to use his hands. “I was just memeing Skizz, and then-” he cuts himself off again, peering up through the small hole in the ceiling to look at Skizz.

The man stares back down at him, one hand resting against the edge of the hole. Martyn had definitely considered simply leaving the lava there for Skizz to fall into, unaware, and taken the kill then and there, but the swift death of the cow had been enough to make him feel a little guilty.

“Aw,” he buries his face in his hands, stepping back from the small entrance. “I am so sorry.” His words are muffled slightly, but he’s sure the others can at least guess the sentiment of his words if they can't understand them. He pulls at his face a little bit, glancing up at the people around him.

Impulse just looks sad at this point, staring at the spot their cow had been only a few moments before. Martyn has never felt regret as intensely as he does in this moment, even if his whole visit had been a ploy to try and kill one of them.

“You gotta be kidding me right now.”

Martyn can feel his resolve begin to waver as they continue on about the cow, lips twitching into an almost-smile as Impulse continues to bemoan their loss. Etho, at least, seems to have planned ahead, or at least far enough ahead that he saw the cow not surviving for very long anyway, as he manages to retrieve a cow within a few minutes after the incident.

It’s as though the cow never died in the first place, and he watches it meander around the small base from the step. Impulse had told him, in very few words, that he’d prefer it if he sat up here and away from the cows for now. He hadn't minded it either, as it means he can sit a short distance away from everyone else- a long enough distance that the itch at the back of his brain is reduced, if only a little bit. The need for blood still lingers, but it’s nowhere near as intense as it had been before.

He can't help but panic a little, unable to see any of these people splitting off from the pack so that he can follow and murder them. He also can't see them just letting it slide if he does kill one of them, so maybe it’s not his greatest idea to pick one of these four.

“Oh, Skizz,” his ears prick up as a new voice joins the jumbled fray, a little louder than many of the others and much further away. He stands, moving from the step Impulse had instructed him to stay on so there weren't any more cow related accidents. “Bud.”

He can hear the sympathy in Scott’s voice, and when he pokes his head out of the entrance to the underground base, Scott is smiling sympathetically at Skizz. A boat rocks gently behind him, lodged firmly in the sand as Scott steps gingerly out of it, scurrying a few metres up the beach before he comes to a stop.

“Dude, it’s been brutal,” Skizz says.

Martyn emerges fully onto the small island, only because hovering in the darkness is making him far more suspicious, and it would be very easy for Scott to pin it on him right now- especially as the man seems convinced that it is him anyway.

“What happened?” Scott seems to be asking from a sympathetic standpoint, but Martyn also knows Scott, and knowing Scott means that he knows Scott just wants the details of what happened from the source. Martyn listens as well, nodding at Scott when the man’s eyes slide over to him.

“I was way, way deep down,” Skizz gestures to the ground beneath their feet, moving back and forth a little bit as they talk. “I was just looking for some diamonds, and a creeper killed me.” Skizz turns his back to Martyn, and he has the idea to just do it now- do it here. He’d considered it already, back in the cave when the curse first settled itself over his mind, but he’d resisted then. But he’s so close to running out of time, so close to failing-

His hand hovers over the sword at his hip, and Skizz’s back is still turned, and Scott had even proposed an alliance to him earlier today, so he doubts Scott’s going to rat him out right now. He glances up, hand still hovering, still uncertain.

Scott glances between him and Skizz, mouth setting into a grim line. He then shakes his head, slight enough that anyone not looking would have missed it. And Skizz continues talking, oblivious to the silent conversation that had just passed between him and Scott.

And Scott’s right, honestly. It would be a bad idea, and they would have four angry people after them, one of which is definitely going to be a yellow soon, and that’s not something he wants to see at all. He swallows, glancing away, mind racing, curse roaring, demanding he ignore Scott, that he does it anyway.

He takes a step back, away from the shoreline and Scott and Skizz, pulling his hand away from his sword forcefully, reminding himself that it would be a bad idea, over and over again, and that Skizz has already lost enough time as it is, to lose more would only put him on Skizz’s list.

He takes another step back, and his foot catches on something. He glances back, finding it to be the hole that leads to the base beneath the island. The…confined base that has little to no escape routes, something which could very easily be blown up.

He glances back to the talking pair on the beach. Neither of them watch him, neither of them are looking to see where he goes.

He drops down into the hole, ignoring the slight jolt in his ankles as he lands. He pauses, not daring to even breathe. He can't hear himself over the sound of blood roaring in his ears- he doesn't know how loud he would be, can't know how loud it would be. So he doesn't dare breathe, straining his ears to make sure that there are people in the base below him, that him tossing away the few resources he has won't go to waste.

He chips away at the wall in front of him, clenching his hands tight around his pickaxe to stop them from shaking. Ignores the pounding of his heart, the rushing in his ears as he breaks through the rock, pausing to heave in a breath and to check that he hasn't been heard- hasn't been found.

He can't be found, he can’t. He doesn't have long left for this, not long at all, and he can't be yellow. Not yet, it’s too soon. Far, far too soon.

He breaks down the few feet that separates him from the room below, pulling back as soon as the last chunk of rock has been chipped away. He has to let it fall, there’s no way he can grab it back now, just has to watch it plummet and hope no one pays attention to the sound.

He holds his breath, feeling it catch in his lungs until he feels as though he’s going to explode. He watches as Scott turns around and stares at the rock for a long, long moment. Long enough that Martyn thinks he might say something, that he might warn the others.

He doesn't, eyes glancing up, though he can't see him- the rock blocks him from seeing Martyn, tucked away in his little gap in the rock, just large enough for him to crouch in. And then Scott turns back around, and he doesn't say a word. He just listens as the team continues talking, chattering amongst themselves.

He doesn't dare breathe, not even a sigh of relief- it could tell them that he’s still here, that he’s not disappeared away again.

He pulls the first bundle of TNT from his inventory, holding it in shaking hands as he fumbles for his flint and steel, grasping it and bringing it up to the wick, striking it once, twice, three times, hands shaking as he tries to light it, watches as it continues to sputter out before the wick can catch.

And then it does catch, flaring to life with a sizzle and he shoves it away, pulling the next bundle free, lighting this one quicker than the previous. There’s a shout from below- someone spotting the TNT no doubt. But it hasn't exploded yet, he still has time.

He drops the second one.

The third is the easiest to light, and he drops that too, peering over the edge, some morbid curiosity filling him- to see if he can get the kill or not. To see if someone might stray a little too close to the detonating bomb.

But, no. They huddle in a corner, all watching the TNT with wide eyes, watching. Waiting. And then it explodes, and his ears beginning ringing, though not with bloodlust this time. Instead, he blinks, coughing as smoke fills his mouth and makes him choke. He pulls back from the small opening he created, hacking and choking on his own breath as shouts of panic break out below.

He peers in again, still blinking back the tears in his eyes, watches as the rock wall behind where everyone huddles begins to crack, begins to give way beneath the sudden lack of stability and structure.

Scott breaks free first, sprinting across the room and skidding to a halt before throwing himself up the small wall and onto the stairs. Only then does he turn back around, posture stiff and tense, watching as the room begins to flood through the small fissures in the rock.

The TIES groan and grumble at the sudden flooding, kicking through the water and sloshing it around their ankles. And Martyn should move on, should leave now that Scott has thrown him under the bus- they could say something in the general chat at any moment, could condemn him to failing his one task.

But they don't, they continue complaining, continue kicking the water around. And Martyn finds himself far more fascinated about how scared Scott seems to be of the water, backing further and further away from the main room, beginning a slow, jerking path up the stairs, away from the steadily rising water and out of the splash zone of where the TIES have begun splashing water at each other.

Martyn watches Scott, files this odd information into his brain, alongside the way Scott avoids water like the plague. Doesn't even go near it despite having chosen to take up residence in the middle of the ocean, where you are surrounded by water.

And then one of the TIES shouts for his blood- and he knows they can't do that, they can't. It’s against the rules. And yet he flees anyway, squeezing back down the small corridor he’d hewn out, and sprinting for the surface.

He only looks back once he’s a safe distance away, watching as Tango and Skizz patrol the surface of their island and Scott climbs into his boat, and begins rowing back to his own island. Rowing, where someone else would have swam the short distance.

But the curse still lingers, still has its hooks in his mind. And he doesn't have time to sit around and watch Scott act odd, because he has other, far more pressing matters to attend to.

For now, at least.

=== === ===

III.

Scott’s island is bigger than it had been before. Spanning over a larger stretch of land, half-grown shoots of bamboo sticking out of the earth, marking out a perimeter. The leaves rustle gently in the breeze, and a few of the closer sticks of bamboo knock into each other, rattling in the wind.

A door stands at the entryway to the island, though there is no frame surrounding it. Truly, there is nothing but manners stopping him from bypassing the door completely, and stepping around. And also because it is far too comedic to knock on the door as well.

“Hi,” Scott peers around his door, not even bothering to open it. And…he’s wearing an odd crown of coral. Something he hadn't been wearing last time, at least. And the coral hasn't begun to bleach yet, remaining colourful despite being on land.

“Hi.” He responds, peering around the door as well, fist still pressed against the wood from where he’d knocked. The bridge is larger this time, too, more stable than it had been previously. He feels far less like he’s about to take an unwelcome dip into the ocean and far more like he’s going to remain nice and warm and dry.

“Um,” he stares at Scott for a moment longer. “Can I, uh, can I come in? Or,” he allows himself to trail off, still watching Scott. The crown certainly suits him, at least, even though the pinkish-orange colour of the coral is not something he’d ever have considered to go well with cyan.

The door swings open in front of him, and he almost startles at the abruptness of it, jerking his hand back and down to his side. “So,” Scott’s grinning, that grin that makes his teeth look far sharper than they actually are, “you've come crawling back, have you?”

“It’s,” he laughs, inching forward, “It’s not crawling back, it’s…sheepishly wandering in.” He smiles a little as he continues to inch his way forward, sliding past Scott and through the rather narrow ‘doorway’ when Scott doesn't move to stop him from entering. “Look,”

“You abandoned me,” Scott says, frowning. The sadness in his voice is incredibly fake, truly, no one would be buying it. But Martyn has to make a good impression, because this is his only chance at an alliance, and Scott is definitely a good choice for a teammate.

“I didn't abandon you,” he protests.

Scott ignores him. “You came to the coral isles, and then you left.”

“I didn't wanna kill you!” He protests, throwing his arms out. When Scott doesn't try to interrupt him, he continues. “I was already the boogey at that point, yeah, yeah, well done, you guessed it. Whatever. And then you were in the TIES’ hole, and I attempted to kill you, and if you attempt to kill someone then you don't immediately go crawling back to them and ask for an alliance! You leave them to cool down, to work out their frustration for a few hours, and then you come to grovel.”

“You're grovelling right now?” Scott raises an eyebrow. “I've seen better grovelling from a dehydrated plant.”

“Now that’s just hurtful, man.” He presses a hand to his chest. “And I am grovelling, I said sorry.”

“No you didn't.”

“I'm sorry,” he tries. “For, uh, trying to kill you- but in my defence! I was almost out of time, and there was a big group, and I was almost certain that the TNT would have gotten them.”

“It would have, if you threw all of it in at once.” Scott crosses his arms. “Throwing in just one, right after you lit the fuse too, Martyn, means that they had the time to react and then huddle, so the other ones didn't do anything.”

“So, what? I should just hang onto the TNT until it’s about to explode?” He’d have probably blown himself up if he’d done that- he can hardly remember anything from that panic-filled haze, so he doubts his planning skills were actually being used at any point.

“Yes.” Scott says, then sighs. “But I get it,” he shrugs as he turns away, “you were panicked, there’s a lot of pressure. I took out the first person I saw.” Martyn follows after Scott as he moves a little closer to the centre of the island, unsure whether he’s actually welcome to stay here or if Scott’s just humouring him.

“So,” he decides to break the ice, trailing behind Scott. “Can, can I move in?” He scuffs his feet against the ground, and Scott turns at his question. Scott frowns, lips pursed as he looks him up and down again.

“You're wanting to be a coral kid?” Scott asks. He sounds almost…pleasantly surprised.

“Okay, uh,” he laughs, “maybe not a coral kid,” Scott frowns a little deeper, “but I've come back with ideas- name ideas, okay? You know, I've been out and about, travelling the world,” the tiny little world they're confined in for the foreseeable future. “Uh,” he scrambles to keep talking, taking a few steps back from Scott, away from the small area he has set up in the middle of the island. Scott doesn't follow after him, propping a hip against the crafting bench. “I'm older, I'm wiser. I'm smarter,” he nods to himself, glancing back at Scott.

Scott seems to be mildly amused by him, head tilted at a slight angle as he watches him talk, smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I've got some name suggestions,” he finishes, giving a little jazz hands as Scott continues to stare at him. He’s got that same eyeshadow on again, glinting around the corners of his eyes. Maybe it’s his new thing for this iteration of the games- people try new things all the time.

“Okay,” Scott drags the word out, but he gestures for him to continue. Martyn is absolutely going to get to stay on this island, thank god.

“Alright,” he rocks forward onto the balls of his feet before rocking back again, “so, obviously, there’s coral kids.” Scott nods his head, “Not too bad, but, you know, I think it makes us sound kinda like pushovers? Uh,” he thinks for a moment, “next one on the list honestly isn't that great either, though, so, damp dudes? Feeling that one?”

Scott clicks his tongue, leaning back on the crafting bench a little further, before shaking his head. “Nope, don't enjoy that one.”

“Alright,” that wasn't his best one, but better to lead with his worst because they can only get better from here on out. Hopefully. “Seeing as this isn't really much of an ocean,” and it isn't, “how about puddle pals?”

“No,” Scott’s response is immediate. “Puddle feels even less,” Scott pulls a face and Martyn gets the message.

“Okay.” Maybe he should have written them all down in a list. He’d spent most of last night brainstorming ideas, hoping to put himself on Scott’s right side and gain a teammate if he can impress him with a team name. “So, I was imagining leather jackets for this next one- like the bad boys’ jackets,”

“You know Jimmy just stole his from Tango, right?” Scott’s grinning, leaning forward a little.

“Really?” He blinks, thinks about it for a moment, then, “Yeah, that makes sense. Timmy doesn't seem like the kind to own a jacket more of a-”

“Denim guy, yeah.” Scott nods his head along, hair falling in front of his eyes before Scott brushes it back again. Martyn finds himself watching Scott for a moment too long before he averts his eyes again, moving a little further around the island. Scott swings his legs over the crafting table to watch him go.

“Alright, us in leather jackets: sons of beaches.” Scott doesn't say anything in response to that one, and when Martyn turns around the other is just staring at him, apparently slightly lost for words. He laughs a little, more out of nervousness at Scott’s silence.

“It’s, hm,” Scott pauses to think. “It’s better than the other two, but, uh.”

“Alright, alright. I've still got a few more,” he nods, even though his list is very rapidly running a little short. “I know you like the film Mean Girls,” Scott nods at that, “so what about Mean Shells?”

Scott tips his head to the side, still staring at Martyn. He stares for long enough, apparently lost enough in thought, that Martyn begins to feel a little flustered beneath Scott’s undivided attention. The green of the man’s eyes is far too intense compared to their normal blue, and it freaks him out. Just a bit.

“I like it,” Scott says, “but I don't know if people will get that reference.” Scott pulls a face, “Mean Gills, would’ve been-”

“Mean Gills!” He bounces a little in place, pointing at Scott and nodding. Scott looks a little taken aback by his enthusiasm, but smiles after a moment anyway. “Yeah, yeah! You've nailed that one there. Mean Gills,” he repeats to himself.

“Did you have any more?” Scott asks.

“Only a couple. What about beauty and the beach?”

“Okay,” Scott nods, “do like that. But which one of us is going to be the beauty and which one of us is gonna be the beach? Because I can tell you right now which one I don't want to be.”

“Oh yeah, alright. What about santa’s little kelpers?” He grins, quite proud of that one.

Scott looks rather unimpressed. “Bit too seasonal.”

“You're a harsh critic, Smajor.” He laughs, “Big buoys? Like, spelt like the, the floating things? B-U-O-Y-S.”

Scott shakes his hand back, side to side. “I think the bad boys would get annoyed with us there, encroaching on their territory and all that. And like, they might be bad at these games, but they've also got full diamond and enchanted armour, so I don't really want to go around annoying them, yeah? Trying not to make enemies just yet.”

“Sal-men?” He tries. His list is dwindling now, though Scott is cracking a smile at a few of these, so it’s not a total loss.

“Oh, no,” Scott shakes his head. “I've had a whole,” he gestures with a flippant hand, “salmon fiasco in the past. Let’s not go there.”

“LGB-Sea?” He says. “Like, like S-E-A?” He laughs a little, because it was a rather bad joke on its own really, but Scott seems to find it funny too because he’s laughing as well, leaning forward on his makeshift seat as he giggles.

“I like the-” Scott laughs again. “LGB-Sea is great.”

“Alright, alright, last one, and maybe we should just lock this one in straight away because I like this one: H-Two-Bros.”

“H-Two-Bros is great,” Scott’s lips are quirked up in a smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling as he smiles, that blue eyeshadow flashing in the light again. “But I'm kinda torn between that and mean gills.” Scott’s eyes then widen a little. “Not that either of us have gills, though,��� he laughs, hand rubbing at the back of his neck. “That would be ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” his eyebrows crinkle together. “Neither of us have gills. But we’re going for the ocean-y fish theme, right?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott nods, “why don't we get Pearl’s opinion on this?”

Pearl’s? The question is half-formed on his tongue before Pearl pops out of the water, spraying it everywhere. Scott is halfway across the island a moment later, looking rather like a startled cat even though he was the one that requested Pearl join them.

Pearl then shakes like a dog, hair and water flying everywhere, hitting him as well. He winces as a stray chunk of hair hits him in the face. He backs up a few steps, away from the edge of the island and the danger zone that is currently surrounding Pearl.

“Ask me what?” She asks, rather cheery.

“We’re choosing a name for the people on this island,” Martyn gestures between him and Scott, who is yet to return from his corner of scared cat-ness. “And we’ve got two contenders currently: Mean Gills and H-Two-Bros.”

“I like Mean Gills better, it’s kinda cute.” Pearl laughs.

The conversation devolves from there, and before he knows it he’s rummaging around in his inventory to find a few bits of gunpowder and handing them over to Pearl. “I cremated her.” He says with a smile, watching as Pearl’s eyes widen slightly, glancing up at him, then back down at the gunpowder.

“I'm leaving,” she says, voice high-pitched. “This is not,” she shakes her head, hopping back into the ocean. She doesn't emerge until she’s several feet away from the island, water splashing as she kicks her way towards the next body of land.

“I don't know what she wanted me to say!” He laughs, though it’s a poor defence, really. Scott laughs a little as well, moving back towards the centre of the island now that Pearl has left. Scott didn't seem to hold any ill will towards Pearl, so Martyn doesn't understand why he avoided her so clearly. “She wants her dead dog from the last games, I don't have anything for her!”

“You could've saved that until she gave me the grass,” Scott frowns. “We only have a little bit now.”

“Eh, it’ll spread in no time.” He assures.

=== === ===

IV.

His hourglass is beginning to come together nicely, even with only the barebones of the structure constructed so far. The chest of resources he’s gathered for this mini project sits a few feet behind him, lid swung open so he doesn't have to keep opening it whilst building.

Scott sits on the small deck chair he’s built for himself, leaning back in it and watching him build. He had been wearing sunglasses, up until the point where Martyn had pointed out that he looked like one of the bad boys and he’d taken them off rather quickly after that.

He’s squinting against the sun as he watches Martyn build, still wearing that eyeshadow despite only getting up half an hour earlier. Martyn hadn't even seen him put it on, but it had been there as soon as he was up, so he must have put it on at some point.

Not that he noticed it immediately. He’s taken to watching Scott recently, but he’s not been staring at his eyes. His eyes might look rather nice, but that doesn't mean Martyn is caught up in staring at them all the time.

“See something you like?” Scott tips his head to the side, eyes still squinted mostly shut. Scott then stretches out on the deck chair, raising one arm above his head. He even winks, just to add to the effect.

“Not really,” he snorts, turning back to his hourglass. He still needs to add most of the glass to it, and that’s definitely going to be the most time-consuming part of this whole affair; he’s going to have to make sure he doesn't bend any of the glass too far and shatter it- why did he decide to build this again? It’s hardly going to be functional and Scott’s beach house is plenty large enough for the two of them. Their beds are side by side in there, too, and he’s not going to be moving out of there any time soon. “Keep dreaming, Scott.”

Scott hums behind him, and he can feel the other man’s eyes on him as he rummages through the chest, collecting as much glass as he can comfortably hold.

“Make sure you don't bend it too far,” Scott says as he starts to place the glass into its frame. “It’s an inflexible material and it will just shatter if you bend it too far.”

“Thanks for that, Scott. I am well aware.”

“Just making sure!” When he looks back Scott’s got his hands raised in surrender, drink held in one of them- when did he get a drink? He stares at Scott for a moment, and Scott stares back at him, before taking a sip from his drink. Where did he even get a straw from? Did he bring it with him?

…Honestly, he can see Scott doing exactly that for a moment like this.

“I just don't want to be the one cleaning you up if you manage to slice your hand open on some of the glass.” Scott shrugs, drink sloshing dangerously against the side of his glass. Scott seems to realise this, jerking the drink away from him hurriedly, before grinning at Martyn.

“I'm hardly going to slice my hand open on the glass,” he snorts. “What do you take me for, some kind of idiot?”

“Just remember that I dated Jimmy for a while, okay?” Scott says. Martyn takes his momentary distraction to slot a few of the glass panes in without any judgement or commentary. He’s all for ribbing at someone, but Scott takes it to an entirely new, rather impressive, level. “Love the guy, he’s great, but he was rather accident prone. I'm just making sure you don't hurt yourself.”

“Giving me the boyfriend treatment, Smajor?” He calls back, picking up the next piece of glass, bending it ever so slightly, careful with the amount of force he applies as he begins slotting it into its place.

“If you want, I've been told I'm rather good.”

The glass breaks in his hands, unable to withstand the sudden increase in pressure from his grip. And, hm. He stares down at his hands, brain not quite registering the pain yet, only that there is a lot of red. Probably a bit more than there should be.

“Scott?” He calls, not turning back around. Scott hasn't made any quip about him breaking the glass, so Martyn doubts he actually heard the glass breaking.

“Yeah,” Martyn can hear the rattling of ice against glass.

“Can you get tetanus from glass?” He asks. The pain is beginning to filter through his system, overtaking the shock and adrenaline of moments later to begin stinging. And then burning, a little.

“Uh,” Scott goes silent for a moment. “I don't think so?”

“That’s good.” He nods along. That is quite a bit of blood, and he thinks he might be going a bit light-headed from the blood loss. “You gotta promise not to make fun of me, alright?”

“I am not promising that.” Scott says. He can hear someone standing up. “Turn around, Martyn.”

He does, not sure what else to do. Scott is only a few inches from him when he turns around, and it’s enough to make him startle. Scott frowns at him for a moment- and they're both far closer than they've been during Martyn’s small stay here, and he can see the eyeshadow up close now, and it almost looks like-

“What did I tell you?” Scott interrupts his thoughts, and he snaps back into focus, slightly.

“Lots of things.”

“About the glass,” Scott stresses, grabbing his hand and shaking that as well a moment.

“Oh, yeah, don't bend it.”

“And what did you do?” Scott asks.

“Bend it?” He responds. “Look, man, I just wanna sit down, alright? I'm not…feeling great.”

“Yeah, no shit, Martyn. Look at this!” He shakes Martyn’s hand around a little, fingers smearing with blood. “This is why we don't play around with glass.”

“It’s your fault, anyway.” He frowns at Scott. “You surprised me.”

“I surprised you.” Scott deadpans. “And so it’s my fault.”

“Exactly.” He tries to point at Scott, but Scott is still holding one of his wrists, so the movement is far less confident and smooth than he had been hoping it would be.

“God, you're worse than Jimmy.” Scott drags a hand down his face. And his hand had blood on it, meaning he’s just smearing blood over his face. “How are you worse than Jimmy?”

“I take offence at that.”

“You can take offence at it when you're not about to pass out at the sight of some blood.”

“I'm not about to pass out,” he scoffs. Or tries to. He doesn't actually know how convincing it is, because everything sounds like it’s underwater. “It’s the blood loss.”

“You have not lost enough blood to feel dizzy.” Scott tells him, still gripping his wrist. “You're just squeamish.”

“Am not.” He tugs at the grip Scott’s got on him. “No way I’d have made it through so, so many of these games if I was squeamish.” It’s the blood loss- the same blood loss that is making the world spin around him like everything just’s been cranked up really high on speed, and his eyes ache with it.

“Martyn,” Scott sighs, but his voice is really muffled, and, wow, is that the ocean? The water is always super warm around here, he’s pretty sure it’s because of the biome they're in, but he always enjoys it. It’s like a slightly colder than usual bath- still warm but not too warm.

And it’s just as warm this time as he sinks into it, breath escaping him in a bubbly sigh.

There’s a loud splashing sound above him, and he squints his eyes open, but the saltwater makes everything blurry, and his eyes hurt already, so he squints them shut again. Something grabs at his arm, yanking him upwards.

And he resists, because this water is really warm and nice, and he actually rather likes it, really. Whatever is dragging him around, though, doesn't seem to care what he thinks, but he’s unceremoniously pushed onto dry land a moment later.

He breathes in, coughing a little and squinting his eyes open to watch as he coughs up water. His throat feels dry and scratchy, and his vision is still blurry. Blurry enough that he can't see much beyond vague shapes and colours.

Something moves in front of him, a little water lapping at his fingers as he opens his eyes a little more to try and get a better look at the- whatever it is in front of him. There’s a flash of deep blue, and then the whatever-it-was thing is gone. Huh.

Something flicks him on the forehead, and he blinks his eyes open again, finding that he’s lying on something far softer than the dirt ground, and blinking up at Scott. Scott is staring down at him, eyes flicking over his face, before he leans back so there’s more than just an inch of space between them.

“Good to see you're awake.” Scott says.

“When did I fall asleep?” He asks, going to push himself up, only to wince when sharp pain lances through his hand. He hisses beneath his breath, easing his weight off that hand.

“You didn't.” Scott smiles at him, but it’s the kind of smile someone wears when they're trying to hold back a laugh. “I didn't know you were squeamish.”

“I'm not.”

“Then why did you pass out at the sight of blood?” Scott asks, head tilting to the side. The bandages around Martyn’s fingers make them feel thick and clumsy, and the pain that sparks through his palm every time he flexes them is enough to stop him from moving that hand too much. “Sounds like you're pretty squeamish to me.”

“I'm not.” He protests, though his attempts seem to be in vain because Scott has actually started laughing at him now.

“Mhm,” Scott nods. “Seems like your hourglass is going on hiatus for a short while.”

“Ugh,” he lets his head drop back to the pillow, staring up at the sky. It’s cloudless. “Did I fall in the water?” He asks, after a moment.

“Yes, why?”

“My clothes feel all…disgusting.”

“Well, I didn't wash them for you. I'm not your personal servant.” Scott pokes him on the arm, just hard enough to hurt.

“Never said you were,” he rubs at his arm absently, frowning at Scott. “Did you see any big fish while I was attempting to drown myself?”

“Big…fish?” Scott’s back has gone a little stiff, and he looks down at Martyn with confusion.

“Yeah, kinda blue-y. Didn't see it for long, but.” He shrugs, which is actually a lot more difficult to do lying down than he thought it would be.

“No, I didn't see anything like that.”

“Hm.” Is all Martyn says in response. He doesn't buy it for one moment, but Scott’s stiffer than a stick of bamboo, and he knows when to leave well enough alone. “Alright then.”

=== === ===

V.

He wakes up to something that is very much so silence, but there was also definitely something that just woke him up- something that was not silence. But it’s dark, and the moon is just past a new moon, meaning he is blind and left scrambling around in the dark for a light source that might reveal what just made a noise and then abruptly stopped making noise.

He fumbles around for a few moments longer, attempting to find a light source- any kind will do, really, he just wants to be able to see rather than scramble around helplessly and hope that it’s not someone come to kill him. Oh god, he hopes it’s not someone come to kill him.

He manages to find a torch eventually, hands closing tightly around it, before he begins another search for something to light it with. It takes him several more long and painful moments to find something to light it with. Because it is dark, and he is blind.

When he does light it, he almost expects to find someone looming over him, before unseen in the darkness now brought into the light and silhouetted by the moon before they kill him where he sleeps. But the torch doesn't light up any ominous figure, and it doesn't reflect off of any weaponry either.

He relaxes a little, laughing to himself slightly as he slumps down into his bed. He’s careful to keep the torch away from his bedsheets, as he’d rather not accidentally set himself on fire. He’s had enough accidents in the past few days, and his hand is still sore and tender from his most recent stunt.

But he still hasn't found whatever it was that woke him up in the first place- and it wouldn't have been the bamboo or sugarcane shaking in the breeze either, because he’s gotten used to the quiet sounds they make when the breeze leaps over the water and towards them- hard not to get used to them when he’s constantly surrounded by the sound.

The sound of the waves against the edges of the island also hadn't bothered him beyond the first night, where he’d had to cover his ears with his pillow because he just couldn't sleep and the waves didn't stop. But he can tune them out easily now, and it becomes just another part of the background noise of their island.

He laughs a little to himself as he continues to look around, because he is being far, far, too paranoid for his own good, really. No one has even gone red yet! It’s way too early for someone to be red, and the next boogeyman hasn't even been picked yet. So, really, the only thing he’s got to worry about is Skizz. And he highly doubts Skizz is going to make a trip over to their base in the middle of the night to murder him in his sleep. Especially when Scott is right next to him and it would be two-versus-one-

Or, it would be, if Scott was currently in his bed. Which he’s not. The bedsheets are pushed down to the bottom of the bed, lying in a crumpled heap that is a far cry from the way Scott normally makes his bed (Martyn’s convinced Scott does it just to shame him into making his bed as well. Which won't work! It’s been tried before, and it’s not going to start working now, of all times).

But the bed has obviously been slept in, which Martyn also knows because they’d gone to bed at the same time after putting the campfire out. Martyn had chucked a bucket of water over it for good measure, aware of how easily the fire could spread to the grass and then they’d be toast - literally.

He does a cursory glance around the island, holding the torch up a little higher as he peers around. But it’s not a very big island, and the only potential hiding spots are behind his hourglass (which is see-through) and behind the chests (which is just dumb). And Scott is nowhere to be seen, even as Martyn looks around again, in case he missed something on his first sweep.

But the results remain the same, and Scott is nowhere to be seen. But, when he presses a hand to Scott’s bed, it’s still warm, meaning he can't have been gone for very long. Which also means that Scott moving about was probably what woke him up in the first place.

The circumstances are still odd, but Scott has had multiple chances to let him die over the past few days, so he’s feeling rather secure in their alliance right now.

Scott’s mysterious disappearance aside, he’s awake now, and rather unlikely to go back to sleep anytime soon. Especially as Scott is still gone, and he probably won't be able to relax until the other returns. Safety in numbers, and all that. If it’s just him on his own, he’s much more vulnerable to an attack, but if Scott’s here, then there’s two of them, and they can both make sure the other doesn't die in a stupid way.

And he might also be a little worried.

Sue him! His teammate disappears in the middle of the night without so much as a word, a note, or even a private message to let him know where he’s gone. Instead, he’s left on an island in the pitch dark with no knowledge about his teammate’s whereabouts.

He swings his legs over the side of the bed, shuffling towards where he’d kicked his sandals off earlier. The sound of his feet against the wooden boards is barely audible. He slips the sandals on easily, stepping down onto the grass a moment later, beginning to putter around their area.

Some of the sugar cane has grown tall enough to be harvested, and so he chops a few of the stems, bundling them together in one hand as he moves onto the next plant, repeating the process. Once he has enough sugarcane that he can't carry any more, he meanders over to their chests, dumping the sugarcane inside, organising it slightly so Scott doesn't complain about it in the morning.

He goes back over to the next section of sugarcane that has grown enough, cutting the stems again, repeating until he can't carry anymore. He returns to the chest with his second load. He doesn't return to cutting the sugarcane after that, mainly because there isn't any more sugarcane to cut, but also because Scott isn't back yet, and he’s beginning to get more than a little worried about his wellbeing.

He sits at the edge of their island, in a small gap he’s created in the bamboo and sugarcane, for easy access for boats from the rear of the island- perfect for a quick escape if they ever needed to make one.

He allows his legs to trail through the water, kicking them back and forth, watching as it laps at his knees, the waves breaking before they reach the very edge of the island. The water is as warm as it always is, just a little bit cooler than a hot bath, but it’s darker than it usually is as well.

During the day, the waters are a crystalline blue, allowing them to see to the very bottom. He’s spent more than a few hours sat watching the wildlife dart in and out of the coral, tracking the shimmering shoals of fish that make their slow way through the coral reef.

He can hardly see the coral now, only vague shapes clustered together, some of them stretching up higher than the others. He can't see anything swimming between the bits of coral, but that doesn't mean that there’s nothing down there- there is almost certainly something that he can't see.

Even the faint glow of the sea pickles is hardly enough to light up the seabed, only a small pool of light around each one that’s so dim he can hardly see it.

He continues to sit there, ignoring thoughts of something swimming up and grabbing his ankle to pull him into the depths- there’s not going to be anything large enough to do that to him, and a small clownfish isn't going to be big enough to eat him, even if it tries its very best.

The water is soothing, at least, and he allows himself to stare at the small ripples, forgetting about his worry for a brief moment.

At least, he manages to forget about it until he sees something move out of the corner of his eye. He freezes, hands twisting into the grass at his side, threatening to uproot it. He watches as the shape moves, glittering scales outlining the apparent size of the thing.

It’s…large. Very big. Easily half the length of their entire island, if not a bit over. And things that big are hardly ever herbivores. And it is with that thought that he rather hurriedly pulls his legs out of the water, standing up. He doesn't move away from the edge, though, watching as the shimmering scales- bioluminescent, his brain reminds him, continue to circle around the island, almost lazily, before disappearing from sight.

He swallows, brain flashing to all worst-case scenarios. All of which involve him still being stood at the edge of the island when that…whatever it was reappears.

He backpedals, maybe a little hastily, and it might be stupid to feel a little safer when he’s back in his bed, sandals kicked off at the bottom of it. But Martyn has long since accepted that he might be a little stupid.

That feeling of safety doesn't help him get much sleep, though. But he must have fallen asleep at some point, because when he wakes up Scott is back, and he’s handing him a mug of coffee almost immediately- and Scott is definitely a godsend at times like this, he can't even deny it.

He doesn't ask where Scott went the previous night, and Scott doesn't offer any explanations. He also puts the sea monster (he is perfectly justified in calling it that! He doesn't know what it is!) out of his mind as best as he can.

And his best is almost good enough for him to completely forget about it

=== === ===

VI.

In all honesty, he had expected Scott’s suspicious behaviour to have more of a dramatic conclusion to it- something that would be shocking and just! Something different from what actually happened, at least. Because the way it happened is possibly the most stupid way Martyn has found out someone’s big and terrible secret (and he’s discovered several big secrets, each of which had far more explosive endings than this one did).

He pushes the door open with his shoulder, both of his arms full of the logs Martyn had left to collect because they were running low, and he rather enjoys their evenings around the fire with nothing but the crackling flames between them, which cast a rather complimentary light onto Scott’s face and makes the eyeshadow he wears glow even brighter than normal.

He makes direct eye contact with Scott, and Scott stares back at him. Scott is dripping wet, arms braced on the edge of their grassy island and in the process of hauling himself up. Scott is staring at him, and Martyn continues to stare back at him. Scott is covered in scales, deep blue scales that are really quite familiar-

Scott disappears with a small splash. Martyn drops the logs, not really caring if they land on the island or roll merrily into the water, instead sprinting over to the other side of the island and dropping to the ground, peering down into the water, hoping to catch any glimpse of Scott.

There’s a flash of blue scales between two things of coral, and he spares about a second to think through his idea before he’s kicking his sandals in and dropping his jacket off. He hesitates for a millisecond after that, and then simply dives in, plunging beneath the surface.

The one thing he appreciates about this biome is that the water is never a cold shock. The worst part about diving into water is always the cold shock, but the water here is warm, meaning he doesn't have to regather his bearings before he starts swimming after Scott.

It takes him a few seconds to realise that there is absolutely no way he’s going to catch up with Scott when the man is some kind of aquatic hybrid adapted for swimming. And he’s struggling to catch up with the other man for god’s sake.

He swims between the pieces of coral he had seen Scott swim between, ignoring the burn that’s beginning in his lungs, glancing around and squinting for any flicker of scales that would betray Scott’s whereabouts.

Something grabs him from behind, and he thrashes around for a moment, bubbles spilling from his mouth, and he almost inhales again on instinct before realising that he’s underwater, and that he definitely can't breathe underwater.

He breaks the surface, gasping for air as the grip on his arm remains iron, keeping him afloat as he regains his breath. He hadn't even realised his vision had started greying out a little until it began to clear up.

“Man,” he laughs. “I have gotta stop drowning myself, huh?”

“You are so incredibly stupid!” Scott responds, voice growling as he yells at him. “What the hell were you even thinking?”

“Wasn't, really.” He would shrug, but he’d also rather not accidentally submerge himself again, so he settles for a grin.

“I just-” Scott cuts himself off, shaking his head. It’s then that Martyn really gets an opportunity to take Scott in, eyes drifting over his face, taking in every small detail. He can see now, closer, that the eyeshadow that decorates the edges of Scott’s eyes isn't actually eyeshadow and is instead small scales. Scales which now spread to cover his cheeks and nose like some kind of freckle. Like, deep blue freckles.

In contrast, the fins at the side of his head are an orange-pink, fluttering slightly in agitation as they fan open before snapping shut again. The membrane of them is thin enough that he can see the sunlight filtering through them, making them almost glow.

“Huh.” He says, which is apparently enough to get Scott’s attention.

“Are you even listening to me?” Scott asks, and, huh, he didn't know Scott could growl like that.

“Not really,” he says. “I'm more caught up in your whole.” He gestures, because he doesn't really have words for what he’s thinking or feeling right now.

Scott’s eyes narrow and he pulls the arm supporting Martyn back, meaning he has to work to keep his head afloat. He reaches out for Scott again, grabbing onto his shoulders- and, oh wow, he’s not wearing a shirt. Like, at all. Huh.

He stares at Scott’s chest, and the scales covering large parts of it. They glint in the sunlight, wet from the water, which only makes them shine even more. They're smooth beneath his hand, and he finds himself rubbing a thumb back and forth over Scott’s shoulder without even thinking about it.

“Martyn,” Scott’s voice is half-strangled as he speaks, and when Martyn looks back at his face, away from the tail he had just noticed, he finds that Scott’s fins are pressed flat against his head, face faintly pink.

“Ah, sorry.” He stops rubbing his thumb over the scales on Scott’s shoulder, even though the pink flush of his face is really quite pretty- and. He’s not going to think about that one too hard, actually.

“It’s fine they're just,” Scott clears his throat, “sensitive.” One of Scott’s hands comes to rest beneath his elbow, supporting him a little more. “Aren't you a little- y’know, unnerved?”

“By what?”

“The whole scales and fishtail thing?” Scott quirks an eyebrow. “Normally people run screaming the other way.”

“I was more worried you were gonna freak out, honestly.” Martyn confesses. You looked a bit stressed before you just ducked back under.”

“Well, I am fine.” Scott clears his throat again, glancing away. “As lovely as this conversation is, I’d rather not be caught looking like this.”

“Why not? You look quite nice, honestly.”

“I- what?” The pink flush staining Scott’s cheeks is only barely visible beneath the scales covering most of them, but the scale-less parts of his neck and shoulders have turned pink as well.

“Aw, c’mon, Scott,” he leans a little closer, which isn't actually all that hard with their current positions. “You've been flirting with me for several days now, don't think I didn't notice.”

“I am a fish, Martyn.” Scott deadpans. “I am a literal fish and you're still absolutely onboard with this.”

“Absolutely still onboard with this, besides.” He rubs his thumb over Scott’s shoulder again, summoning his confidence with the action as he leans a little closer, close enough for their noses to brush. “You look really quite lovely right now- I thought you were wearing some really nice eyeshadow this whole time, and instead it’s these wonderful scales.”

“Martyn, stop, you're being ridiculous.”

“Aw, Scott.” He frowns as Scott pushes him away.

“I am not kissing you while we’re both in the middle of the ocean.” Scott says. “Also you stink of sweat.”

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do.” Scott pats him on the cheek. “You've been chopping trees all morning, and you're definitely flattering me right now; but I also have standards, and those standards include not kissing people that smell of sweat.”

“You're so rude to me, and after I was so nice to you.”

“I’ll be nice to you once you don't smell of sweat, dear.”

[missbunnybunny]

『･ﾟ✧💌🎪✧･ﾟ』

╔═.✵.════ 💌 ═══════╗

✙-` 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖊 𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊! 𝕺𝖈 𝖝 𝕲𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝕹𝖚𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖑! 𝕽𝖔𝖞𝖆𝖑 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗´-✙

➢-`𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖑𝖎𝖈𝖎𝖙! +𝟏𝟖 𝙼𝙳𝙸´- 『𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎!』

➣ -`𝗘𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!´- -`⁺◛˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖◛⁺´-

"𝕴𝖓 𝖆 𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖋𝖆𝖗 𝖋𝖆𝖗 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖞...𝖜𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖊𝖘 𝖉𝖊𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖉𝖔𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝖂𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖆.𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖎𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖜𝖔 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖈𝖗𝖔𝖘𝖘 𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗."

╚═══════ 🎪 ════.✵.═╝

Long, long time ago

The sun gently came up, dancing in the sky and painting the earth with a gorgeous veil of aqua blue and light blue. The clouds are pinkish orange with grey and purple, and the moon slowly disappears as the birds sing the morning's first song. The kingdom of Wisteria awoke as the birds sang, and the citizens opened their doors and windows, allowing the morning breeze to enter. Stalls were being set up as men and women carried large cartons of things to sell to passing travelers. This was the most active and visited kingdom in the country since the inhabitants were kind and the royal family was adored by each and every resident of the kinadom.

A woman with lovely cinnamon red hair braided into a low-hanging bun, her eyes closed and a serene yet serious expression danced on her face. Her hands were tenderly placed on her abdomen, and a young girl with midnight black hair braided over her shoulder strolled behind her. They proceeded slowly along the castle's lengthy corridors until they came to a big entrance. The elder woman lifted her right hand and knocked twice. "Your Highness, it is time to wake." Her voice rang out from the other side of the door into the room, where the sleeping figure was resting. She sighed when she received no reaction. She dropped her hand and grasped the doorknobs. "I'm coming in, Your Highness." She announced.

I had my own little show

The door swung open with a strong shove. The enormous chamber is shown, which is decked in gold, green, black, and the royal family's color purple. A big canopy-covered bed sat in the center of the room, concealing the person within from everyone and everything. This was the chamber of their Highness y/n, the oldest of three siblings.Everyone in the kingdom, whether old or young, male or female, admired the monarch next in line for the throne and the country's most precious treasure. Oh, to be their Majesty.

As you gently rose up, one could hear grunts and shuffling from the bed. The curtains were quickly yanked open, causing you to swint your eyes with annoyance, " Alma, most youplways do this? It's so early," you informed her. Your hair was a mess, and your voice was gruff and rumbling, laced with drowsiness. "Honestly" Alma shook her head, a dejected expression on her face. "Your Highness, it's your coming-of-age ceremony." she explained. "I'm sure your 21st birthday banquet will be spectacular, Your Majesty" The person assisting you added. "You always remain hopeful, Raine." You grumbled when you finally got out of your cozy bed.

Was a beautiful, loveable angel

Reine held your hand with a bright smile as she guided you to the bathroom. You grumble a 'thank you' before raising a hand up to stifle a yawn, Alma watched the sight with slight amusement, Before returning to her more professional expression and instructing the maids on what to do. Ensure the room is cleaned and ready before your bath is over. Many more maids enter the room with a variety of things, from the finest of Jewis to the rarest of silks, everything fitting for royalty greatness.

As you took off your nightgown and slowly entered the warm tub of water, you felt your muscles relax as a sigh of contentment left your lips. Raine and two other maids gently began to rub your hands with soap. It was a pleasant smell, like freshly baked strawberry cake, the first thing you could smell as you entered a cake shop. A maid quietly got behind you and began to wash your hair, a gentle massage. You could almost melt away right there. " All done, Your Highness." Raine smiled, "Oh, I was just enjoying myself." You replied lazily, opening an eye.

But he took the spotlight, shining so bright

As you got out of the tub, a maid put a towel around your body and another started drying your hair. You were declared ready for the following step once you emerged from the bath with the aroma of strawberry cake tattooed into your skin. Fitting, you now had to spend a couple of hours getting ready for the day to begin. Alma could be seen standing next to the drawer laced with jewelry and next to her clothing after clothes as you stepped out of the restroom with Raine and the servants not long behind you.

As you sat on a chair in front of the drawer, the ladies proceeded to style your hair and do as Alma instructed: make their Highness even more beautiful than the gods themselves! There is a long-running prophecy in the Kingdom of Wisteria. Every member of the royal family will receive a gift when they reach the age of 21. Your father was given the gift of true love when he turned 21, and he met your mother that same night while he danced and drank the night away.

Left me to fade away

Your mother was a princess from a long-dying nation. Her folks were renowned for their beauty and sage advice. It was just coincidental that she was there; the invitation had arrived at the last minute and she was contemplating dismissing it. But her parents persuaded her to go in the hopes of building contacts with other Kingdoms and saving their dying kingdom. So she gave in to her parents' request and went to the feast. She did, however, make a few connections to her delight. She felt exhausted as the night progressed, and while going through the castle's lengthy halls, she noticed a garden.

She stepped outdoors and took a deep breath of fresh air, letting out a slight sigh and smiling. She could see how the moon highlighted the rose walls as she walked around. She had no idea how long she had traveled before coming upon little bushes of moon flowers, her kingdom flowers. Her hand extended out to carefully touch them, almost as if she was afraid that if she was too harsh, they might weather in her touch. Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned to face a man and stated, "I apologize." She mumbled Apologitive before turning to go away.

But honey, now the turn is mine

As if struck by dread, as if if he didn't talk to her, he'd be sorry for the rest of his life and for years to come. "What's your name, madam?" he inquired as he stretched for her hand. The prince of Wisteria met the love of his life in the moonlight, surrounded by a sea of brilliant flowers, a princess from a country whose history was on the verge of dying out and being forgotten.

When you ask your parents how they met, they always tell you this story. It was like fairytale stories, which you wanted to have one day. "Your Royal Highness?" Alma's voice jolted you out of your trance. You let out a hmm and glanced at her in the mirror, urging her to continue. "Have you had them again?" She inquired. You sighed and nodded your head. "Yes, they have been more frequent than ever." You notified her. You've had this strange recurring dream for as long as you can remember.

A devil made from heaven, sent from above

A towering figure entered your room in your dream. They have stunning Ruby eyes and would follow you everywhere. Their hand would hover over your face before beginning to trace your cheek almost lovingly. They lowered themselves till they were only a few inches away from your face. "I know you're awake, my sweet little dreamer." They spoke in a honeyed, silky tone. " Sweet dreams, you little dreamer." It began with basic terms that everybody could understand. You sprang up, a cold sweat streaming down your body, and looked about wildly. How did he gain access to your room? You were ten years old when it began, with a faceless stranger chasing you like prey.

They had been stalking you in the shadows of your room for the next 8 years, paralyzing you while you slept and touching your vulnerable body. They slid their hands into your nightgown and felt your chest rise. They circled and squeezed your sensitive mounts, a smile on their faces as they drank in the sensation and sight of you. Their lips collided with yours, gasping at the sensation of how soft you were. "It's all done, Your Highness." Alma spoke up. You looked in the mirror and blinked. You've probably zoned out, recalling your vivid dreams. Raine looked at you, concerned, and asked, "Are you okay?" Her image appeared before you. You gave her a gentle grin." Yes, I'm fine." It was true, but it didn't mean you weren't embarrassed by the arousal tugging at your legs.

Looks like Henry's got a little date, let's have some fun

You looked at Alma and asked her how long before breakfast, lifting her wrist and inspecting her wacth. " It's 10 to 9. You're all set to go." She spoke professionally as she saw you rise from your seat. Raine approached you and complimented you, saying, "You look stunning, Your Highness. You're an exquisite gem." Alma opened and kept the door open for you as you exited your room and made your way down to the dining room.

You looked out the window and enjoyed the view. The garden's flowers appeared to be floating on water as they swayed in the little breeze. What a serene sight you thought, the sea of vibrant hues practically reflecting a rainbow on the ground as the sun shone above them. deciding whether or not you should take a trip down to the garden to sip some tea while taking in the blooms.You reluctantly lifted your gaze to the door, which you failed to see was drawing near. Two guards stood on either side of the door before one opened in and announced. " Their majesty, their Highness Y/n." As he held the door open and you were on your way, they let go of the door and returned to their guarding duty.

We've got lots to do, little errand boy

The dining area was lit up, with lights beaming on the marble floor, golds on the walls, and the chandelier casting an ethereal glow over the rest of the space. It was like walking into a painting of heaven, as your father, the emperor, looked up at you, a smile on his lips. He moved up to you and hugged you as he stood up in his seat. "Y/n, dear, a very happy birthday." He spoke and pulled the chair to his left. “Thank you, Father." As your mother smiled at you from her seat to his right, you told him.

"Y/n, are you excited?" Your mother inquired politely. Her face was merely a loving expression, a pleasant smile that everyone adored. Your siblings, the empire's young prince and princess, gazed up at you in amazement. The twins are ten, and they were looking forward to dressing up and having fun at tonight's banquet. "Y/n," your sister Eleanor exclaimed as she turned to face you. "What do you think your gift would be?" Elliot grinned at you. You stared at them both, slightly puzzled, before softly shaking your head. "Mother and Father discovered true love. All I want is happiness." You told them the truth, which was correct. You desired to be happy and avoid a loveless political marriage.

Come to me at Cloud Nine

The kitchen staff entered through the doors, bearing plate after plate of food. From soup to stake, plates were placed on the table. A maid place a dish of excellent in front of you, as well as the rest of the family. When the maids and butlers finished arranging the plates, they silently backed away, forming a line close to the wall. The royal family began to eat their meals one by one. It was a calm morning of eating and covering with each other here and there. You graded a napkin and wiped your mouth clean after finishing the first day's meal.

You put the napkin down and turned to your father, declaring, "Am full, I shall excuse myself." You stated, gently getting up from your seat and bowling as a sign of respect for the imperial suzerains. You turned to head towards the door as you waved farewell to your siblings. For you, Alma unlocked the door. She followed you as you went by, as did Raine. “What should we do, Your Highness?" You hummed pointlessly while Alma questioned you in a sweet voice. Before making a decision, "Prepare a carage for me, I would like to go into town." You asked for. Alma was about to beg you mercilessly when she turned to face you, but when she saw your puppy eyes, she gave up.

To be the perfect angel, some sin must be done

She sighed, tired, and whispered curses and/or why she constantly fell for your tricks. Raine and Alma assisted you in changing into civilian clothing as you returned to your room. Raine gave you a cloak for your protection. She brought it up. "You must return in two hours, no exceptions." Alma chastised you. You thought of her as a second mother. You massaged the back of your neck shipily, "Yes, Alma." You let out a chuckle . Alma anticipated you back to the castle at one o'clock in the afternoon. You made your way down the long corridors and down the steps to the first floor, to the door. Where a butler and four knights were patiently waiting for your arrival.

"Your Royal Highness." announced the buttler and the knights bowled to you. "The carage is ready for your departure." Oliver, the taller of the knights, spoke up, a scar over his nose. His face was expressionless and solemn. He remained your guard dog; you'd never guess he was married, and to Alma of all people. Even though he appeared mean, you could see it. He was an extremely caring individual. The personnel in the castle were all caring and courteous. You didn't need to know how far some of them would go for you. They would kill for you without hesitation or concerns. You were excorted to town , walking down the stairs and into the carage.

You told me what to do and what to say

Looking out the carage window, you could see the castle walls fade into the forests and huge landscape, while the lake mirrored the sky and light rays. It was a beautiful day. You closed your eyes and listened to the birds' melodious melodies and the horses' gallops. The hums of the outside world almost put you to sleep. To you, the ride was a blur. A knock sounded out in the air, and you slowly and sleepily opened your eyes. You rubbed your eyes and searched for the door handle as you looked out the window to catch Oliver's gaze.

You smile broadly as you open the door and take a deep breath of fresh air. The carage was positioned in an alleyway, distant from the villagers but still accessible in case of emergency. As you entered the town street, you pulled your hood over your head. Purple banners hung over the town, and you smiled at the sight of the numerous colors and market stalls. Magnolia and moonflowers from the royal family were draped throughout the city as decorations. It was significantly more entertaining than the majority of the aristocratic gatherings you had attended. You walked about with excitement, checking out the stalls and watching people dance.

I couldn't escape

You approached a vendor selling sweets and said, "One, please." The vendor was an elderly woman. You asked holding a finger up. She gave you a smiling up-close gaze. "Of course, dear." You gave her the cash and she dutifully selected the candies you had requested. You surprised when you opened the bag and said, "Are you sure?" You asked her. She sent you on your way by waving. "Yes, enjoy the festival.” You cheerfully nodded once she finished, thanked her once again, and continued your sightseeing.

You'd been browsing about for a while, mostly distracted. You unintentionally bumped into someone. When you looked up to apologize, you found... no one. You thought it was strange, but you kept walking. The street began to fill up, and you heard one of the knights yell your name. You came to a halt as you passed into an alley, waiting for them to catch up to you. But that was your mistake. They lost you the second they lost sight of you in the crowd. A hand grabbed your waist from behind you, and before you could open your mouth, a piece of fabric covered your nose and mouth.

You got to choose the ending of my fate

Your efforts proved futile since the more you struggled, the more you inhaled the chemical on the fabric. Into the hands of the person who would decide your fate, your limp body dropped. “We finally meet, Little Dreamer." Ruby eyes lovingly  studied your face as a slender finger pushed a stray hair away from it. His face was played with by a smile that extended to his eyes. You were finally his! But he was unable to begin formally courting you until tonight.

He held you in his arms affectionately and softly. You both became one in the crowd that was moving through town. He hummed in ecstasy, a hunger satisfied simply by having you in his arms. He proceeded until he came to a door displaying a sign: This building has been totally hired out for the night. Thank you for your patience. Have a good time at the festival. When he heard from on of his spies, he was overjoyed. Inform him that you would be going into town for a short time. He could finally have uninterrupted time with you, even if you wouldn't remember much of it. His face flushed as he opened the door with the key.

You put me astray

He was in a rush. He disliked the way his jeans felt since they were too tight. Your back was against his chest as he held you steady, and his arm was wrapped tightly about you. He used his other hand to shuffle the table in front of him. He placed you lightly on the table after entirely emptying it. Your head lolled to one side while your chest gradually rose and fell, signifying unconsciousness. As soon as his finger touched your lips, a chill ran down his spine. Your dream state was pleasant, but not as real as it could have been because they were so soft to the touch. You didn't do anything, yet you might have broken him.

His finger moved deeper into your mouth, touching your tongue. He began to carefully pull your tongue out of your mouth with his pointer and middle finger. His dick twitched at the notion of pulling an unconscious groan from you, yeah, you liked it. He couldn't stand it any longer. He grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you hard. His tongue invaded your mouth, moaning at the taste of you and deepening the kiss. He clamped his lips, pulling away from you with a shuddering whimper. He pondered what your sex might taste like if your tongue tasted this good.

But not anymore

His trembling hands drew down your top, peering into your chest. You moaned slightly at the cold air, biting your nipples. His mouth wet, and he rapidly became attached to your mounts, licking and sucking them. He pinched and massaged them since he didn't want to leave them alone. He bit your nipple in delight as your back rachd met his mouth and touched. I'm eliciting more groans and whimpers from your delicate body as I enjoy my limited time with you. He let go with a pop and looked down at your lust-filled eyes.

His hands rapidly removed his belt and pants, his cock sprong slamming on his stomach. His erection was hovering over your face as he grabbed your face into the his hands. His tip brushed your lips, and his hips threatened to collapse into you. Slowly, he worked your mouth open, and you were so heated by the gods. Lips enfolded and properly absorbed his dick. It seemed as though your words were destined for him. As he began to pump into you, your tongue slipped beneath his dick. It began slowly, but as pleasure took over, his thrust got rougher. Your moans merged into a symphony of pleasure, so take him like the good slut you are.

I'm in control

His movements become sloppy. He had completely lost himself to the pleasure of your mouth. He twitched a few more hard strokes, and he was coming ropes after ropes into your mouth. He slapped your face gently, " Come on, be a good whore and don't spill my seed." With a sadistic smile he pinched and closed your mouth, forcing you to drink everything up. He let go of your nose with a hmm before pressing his thumb to your lips, pulling your tongue out. Giving you a passionate kiss on the lips as a reward for being so good.

You stared to groan and shift in your sleep, meaning that the drug was wearing off and you would wake. He was sad his time with you was coming to an end, but like the carrying lover he was, he helped you pit your clothes back on. Once you were set and ready to go, he began to carefully lift you before a thought crossed his mind. Walking over to your lower side, he worked your underwear off. You can't leave him without a parting gift, can you? Now he could take you back to does pesky knights of yours. He stepped out of the building, pulling your hood over your head. It didn't take long for him to notice them, and when he approached them, he pretended to be concerned.

I have the stage

"Excuse me," he said to attract their attention. They were tense the instant they noticed you in the man's arms. " Could you assist them, they fell near my shop?" He stated anxiously, holding you out to them. Oliver instantly picks you up in his arms and examines you thoroughly and deceptively. He thanked the man once he determined you were unharmed. His wacth rang before he could ask the man his name. That meant it was time for you to go back to the castle. He turned to face the stranger only to find him gone, weird, but he had other things to attend to.

Oliver gently placed you in the carage and began informing everyone that it was time to return their Highness home. The catage slowly began to draw away and began its voyage back, leaving the village and its residents behind. With a quiet low groan, their eyes flicker open and blur as they acclimate to waking up. The first thing you noticed was that you were moving, not on the street but within your carage. You're left wondering how this may have occurred. Had you fallen asleep by accident? No, you shake your head at the concept, as if it were unthinkable. Your most logical approach was that you had passed out, but were and how? Your most plausible explanation was that you had passed out, but had you and how? Your thoughts were as foggy as static on a radio. You sighed and switched your gaze to the window, admiring the natural scene as the carage drove by.

You can't turn the page

After a while, the Castel walls appeared beside the oh-so-familiar gates of your home. You'd only be a few minutes away from the Castel's entrance. The carege began to slow down before coming to a complete stop. Your jaw was clenched, and your tongue had an unusual flavor and were you missing your underwear? -Tap tap - you faced Alma as she softly glanced at you. You opened the door and met her eyes with a wave. "I hope you had fun, your majesty." Her voice exclaimed, "The town is so colorful, I enjoyed it." Your words were genuine and honest.

Time seemed to move faster in your eyes, passing in a blur. Nightfall had descended in the sky before you realized it. Maids and butlers ran from one location to the next, while chefs and gardeners worked diligently to ensure that everything looked great. Everyone worked hard to make this the most gorgeous, lavish, and unforgettable banquet in history. There would be no expenses or details overlooked. It had to be flawless for their Majesty. During this time, many nobles, including the royal family, began to plan. Putting on their most gorgeous outfits and the most beautiful jewels they owned.

Now all eyes on me

Alma, Raine, and a few other maids began to assist you in preparing for your wonderful occasion. You were dressed in the finest silks available and soaked in the sweetest and most lovely perfume money could buy. The greatest of the best, the finest of the finest jewels adorned your body and hair in a magnificent and graceful style. You were magnificent when the companions completed preparing you; in their opinion, not even the best and most rare jewel could ever compare to you. They were just stones, and how could they ever convey you in words?

The person looking back at you in the mirror was stunning. They appeared to be dolls. Your hand raised up to touch your face, like a living doll. Your reflection followed as you marbled at it, 'Beautiful; you exclaimed in hushed tones. You couldn't believe it was you, but you had no choice because you were staring at yourself. Three strong knocks jolted you from your stupor, and Alma stepped up to the door and opened it, taking care not to disclose you in the process. The person on the other end of the conversation had a brief chat with her, which you could hear no matter how far away they were. Regardless, you waited patiently for her to return to your side to provide an update or pass along a message.

All eyes on me

Before closing the door and turning towards you, you give the person a nod. "Your Highness, the banquet will start shortly," Alma stated. She pulled you up and began bringing you towards the door, reaching over to your seated form and taking your hand in hers. Except for Alma and Raine walking alongside you, the corridors were absolutely vacant. Every royal family member was not allowed to be seen by anybody other than their personal maids or family on their 21st birthday. It could bring you bad luck and have an impact on the blessing you receive tonight.

if only it were true, and no one save your maids had seen you. You didn't believe in superstition, despite the pair of eyes following you from the shadows. Your garments fit you wonderfully as you walked softly, the silk of your clothes flowing like water from a river. You waited 30 minutes before the banquet in a different room. You could hear the announcers, and there was a dish of food and a cup of tea on the table in front of you. Take care not to spoil or wrinkle your clothes as you sit on the sofa.

So many experiments, so many mistakes

You could hear the announcer as they announced your family's arrival. " Ladies and gentlemen, please greet his and her Majesties.The Wisteria kingdom's monarch and empress." As the door opened to welcome them into the hall, an outpouring of applause rang in your ears. Their voice rang out again not long after to announce the following line of royals. "Please accept Their Royal Highness, Princess Eleanor and Prince Elliot, the royal princess and prince." You could hear the people's loud talk as they celebrated.

You took a drink before returning your now-empty tea cup to its plate. You gazed up at the night sky, observing as the moon and the sky glowed in the darkness. It was like a painting's starry night, magnificent the more you saw it. The door next to you creaked open, Raines' head peeping out at you. Her right-hand beckons you to her, and you get up from the couch and move up to her. "It's time, Your Highness," you say quietly, tilting your head. Raine gave you a friendly smile.

But I'll go all the way 'til I'm in perfect shape

As you neared the banquet hall entrance, Almas's hand was in yours, and you could hear the many conversations on the other side. Alma knocked on the door, backing up to a safe distance so as not to get one K.O. from it. " Ladies and gentlemen, the moment has arrived. Their Majesty, the Wisteria gem. Their Majesty Y/n," they said, and the room fell silent for the first time since the banquet began.

The doors slowly opened to reveal a sea of people, chandeliers blazing brilliantly as stars. The hall was designed with a fairytale/garden theme. It seemed as if you were staring at the night sky through a garden doom. The oracle was kept in a big capsule shaped like a star in the middle of the ceiling. The gift was the only thing that determined your fate for the foreseeable future. You wanted to gaze out the window for a while longer, but you were being swamped by nobility wishing you a happy birthday, You were tempted to scoff. The majority of them were suckers, power-hungry hyenas.

First the worst, maybe third's the charm

You couldn't help but see eyes staring at the back of your head as you socialized with the few folks you knew weren't here to suck up to you in the hopes of gaining political support. You were tempted to turn around, but practically everyone's attention was on you. After all, it was your birthday. Everyone's attention was drawn to the sound of glass being struck by a spoon. You looked about for the source of the noise, then up to see your father standing on a balcony. Only the royal family was permitted to sit in it.

" May I have your undivided attention?" His Majesty's authoritative voice echoed around the room. Given that all eyes were on him, he added, "Y/n would you come and join me?" The sea of people slit open, creating a path for you as you made your way to his majesty, as he voiced out. Oliver was waiting for you at the bottom of the steps to take you up. You could hear some of the people whisper as you climbed up the steps, careful not to fall. 'They're so lovely, one would say, while another would say, 'I wish they could marry me.’ On the last step, Oliver extended his hand to your father, giving you to him as he prepared to finish his speech.

So close, oh, I cannot wait

"On this blessed night, we have gathered here to celebrate their Highness's 21st birthday." Raise your glasses in celebration. "Happy birthday, my darling." Your father finished with a toast to you. The other visitors followed, and they all wished you a Happy Birthday in unison. " Thank you for your kind wishes. Please relax and enjoy the banquet." You made an announcement to the entire room. You took a step back from the balcony and sat close to your mother and siblings, talking and making small talk here and there!

You were enjoying the peace and quiet of simply having to sit with your family instead of talking and seeing individuals you didn't want to see. Your attention was drawn to the sound of rumbling. It was initially silent before becoming louder. "Ah, it must be time." Your mum made a remark. You sought a watch but couldn't find one. Was it already eleven o'clock? That must mean that you gazed up at the celling, seeing as the star containing your present gradually barante lower itself.

The demon won't taint me now

You rise from your seat and approach your father, gazing in astonishment at the glittering and sparking light. You received a nonverbal nod of approval from your father as you looked at him. Your father was next to the stairs, holding out his hand. You made a short bow before taking his hand in yours as he led you to the center of the room, where the star was. As the chandelier lights dim, only a spotlight shines on your walking figures as they move closer and closer to the center. Once in the center, all of the lights were turned off, leaving only the moonlight and the sparkling lights of the shiny ornament hanging in the center of the chamber.

"It is time for the oracle to grant my child a miracle. This kingdom's future ruler." The monarch declared as a gathering of people stared in awe. " Go ahead, honey." As he gazed at the oracle, the emperor nodded at you. You placed your right hand on the surface of the star, looking straight ahead, expecting your hand to contact the oracle.You watched as the surface beneath your palm sparkled in a throbbing rhythm, glistening like a jewel in the sun. Its brilliance grew brighter and brighter until it halted, and a voice from the star spoke.

'Cause you're the sacrifice he'll slay

"Oh, my my. What do we have here? A Jewel to rival the gods, a symbol of beauty." The volce uttered. It sounded manly, with an amused tone _you gave a confused gaze at the star, "Your future Is veLY Interesting, yes, yes." They mumbled out, as you Imagined he nodded while holding his chin. "You will be blessed with a fertile life on this day. May your years ahead be filled with Joy and prosperity. Your love will treasure you with adoration." They spoke In a solemn tone of volce. Your eyes enlarge and your mouth slightly opens, as if you're a fish out of water trying to comprehend the scenario.

"What do you mean by 'fertile*?" You Inquired almost in hushed tones, hoping no one could hear what you were saying. "Fertility will benefit you whether your love is a guy or a woman. Though some gods enjoy playing with words, fertility means what it means. Whether you have a man's, a woman's, or another body, you may have the opportunity to start a new life." They replied in the same tone of voice as you, in a faint whisper that only you could hear. "That Is the miracle bestowed upon you; I bid Your Majesty farewell and wished you a happy birthday." The lights dwindle until they vanish, Indicating the end of the oracle until the twins' birthday years later.

You said I wasn't good enough to stay

You wanted to hit and beat the damnd oracle for daring to utter such a thing, as well as the God who sent you this gif in the first place. You were seeing crimson, your eyes were dilated, and you were shivering with rage. But before you could tend to anything or anyone, someone requested your hand. "Your Highness, may I have this dance?" The stranger took your hand in his, bowed, and kissed the back of your hand. " Do as you please." As music began to play, you were brought to the center of the room. You dance and dance to the music, one step after the next. You both came to a halt as the final tone sounded before bowing and saying your goodbyes.

As more people began to dance, the music began to ramp up again, ushering in a new round of celebration. You Bagan to move away to one of the several balconies to get some peace and quiet. You'd had your fill of socializing and meeting new people for the evening. You sighed as you sat down on a couch. Already exhausted, you worried that Alma or Raine had noticed your disappearance and started looking for you. You should have brought a drink, but you were so eager to leave that you forgot.

You put me away

Someone was seeking for you while you were engrossed in your thoughts. But they couldn't find you in the banquet while they were overioved to have heard the oracle. It seemed as though the gods were blessing them by making you entirely theirs. They could build a beautiful family with you, and the thought made their heart expand and their dick twitch. You're sitting on their lap, your belly distended with their child. Their rationality was gradually evaporating.

They requested their eyes and ears to look for you since they couldn't find vou anywhere. They command one on their eyes that notified them where you were after you left. They graded a drink and made their way to you, their precious little love, with a smile. They feigned to be lost and just happened to stumble across you as they neared the balcony you were on. Your gaze wanders up to their form, eyes marveling at them. They wanted to ravish you right now, God."Please accept my apologies, Your Highness." They spoke!

You took away my future and my fame

You noticed a figure out of the corner of your eye and stared in astonishment as you tried to find out who it was. He was by far the most attractive man you'd ever met; he had hair as silver as the moon, and in the light of the moon, it gave him a halo of white about him. His eyes drew your attention more than his impressive jawline.Ruby eyes, the way they looked at you, as if they were memorizing every detail on your face. They appeared so familiar as if you'd seen them in your nightmares, yet you'd only just met this man.

As he observed you, he let out a husky chuckle. "You appear thirsty, your Highness," he said as he offered you his drink. "Do you want some?" He paused. You cast your gaze between him and the glass of champagne. He waited with bated breath until you reached your conclusion. "Thank you, may I know your name?" you say as you extend your hand to take the drink. You inquired, catching his gaze.He let out another chuckle, and hearing it made you feel sinful."Dorian Nikolai." He cheerfully informed you, his voice sounded familiar. You wondered where you'd heard it as you took a sip, then another.

But now that will change

You gazed at the glass as you took your last sip. Was champagne always a sweet drink? You tried to stand up, only to stumble with your feet, as if you were inebriated. The glass in your hand shattered and shattered. Dorian extended his arm and grabbed you about the waist.He smiled at you like the Cheshire cat, but you couldn't see it. You held his arm and looked at him with terror and perplexity. opening and closing your mouth you asked the question. "What exactlv was in the champagne?"

He let out a tiny laugh as he caressed your face with his free hand.Your face became more flushed with each passing second. Your body was getting warmer, and your breathing was becoming uneven. "TIl take good care of you, my little dreamer. The sparkle in his eyes sends chills up your spine. Wait, did he just call you a "little dreamer?" His remarks caused your pupils to dilate. You tried to shove him away, but vou were too weak. You were terrified, your eves swollen with unshed tears. Oh, How he liked the sight, a moan left your trembling voice cords.

Focus on me

A tear finally escaped and rolled down your cheek. He kissed the wayward tear as he dropped his face to yours. When he did, he licked his lip and smiled at you, "Tasty." You tried shaking your head free from his grasp, but he held on tight. "What's the matter? You want me to kiss it more passionately." He inquired almost condescendingly, and before you could respond, his lips collided with yours. Muffling your cries and stealing them as his. He began to slowly paw your chest, eliciting an uncontrollable moan from you.What a lovely voice you had, his lower half twitched in anticipation.

Your entire body twitched. It was as hot as fire. "Wh-what exactly did you do?" Your comments came out slurred, followed by a choked sob, demonstrating how inebriated and distressed you truly were. "Don't worry, it's just an aphrodisiac." You were forced onto the couch while your mind digested the words that came out of his mouth. Your mind was like a broken record, with pleasure and lust coursing through your veins. His lips kissed you all over your face and body. "Moan for me, my little dreamer." He spoke into your ear as his hands slid to your lower body, his touch memorizing your body.

I'll be all that they see

His head rose as he turned to face your considerably more agitated and breathless face. The bulge of his dick could be seen. He got to his feet and bowed before you. Your sex was made visible to him when he raised up / pulled down the bottom half of your clothing. Your hands attempted to move his head away from your sex, but all of your strength fled you the moment his tongue started to slip up your sex. He used his mouth like an instrument. Your groans were the result of his labors, which he heard. He was only made more satisfied the more he heard them. He licked your sex and sucked on it, consuming much of your cream.

You gasped and covered your lips with the back of your palm as a knock echoed through the air and you let out a breathy moan. Surprised, you tighten your thighs, which only serves to further entrap him. "You're Highness?" As Alma cautiously opened the door, her voice could be heard. "Y-yes?" As the wicked bastard remained attached, you inquired. He continued sucking gleefully. "Are you okay, you sound strange?" Worried, she enquired. You apologized, tripping over your words, "Am fine, just a little ahh tipsy." Your toes began to curl as the stimulation pushed you over the edge, and the knot in your gut grew tighter and threatened to burst.

I'll make them sway

Your groans were getting more and more difficult to hide from Alma. “Are you certain that you're okay, Your Highness?” Her voice was getting more and more worried. Dorian continued to laps at your sex,  while pumping his fingers in and out of your sex. When she didn't hear back, she said, "Am coming in." Your body becomes more sensitive, twitching, and trembling as a result of the physical effects of panic. Alma would see you being enjoyed by a man you had just met if she turned the corner. You were on the verge of breaking since the whole situation's humiliation dulled your thoughts with pleasure. “C-could you just bring me some w-water, Alma?” sounding like a plea for help.

"Mm, if you say so." Alma deliberated before closing the door and returning to get you something to drink. Dorian smiled at your situation, and with a couple more strong thrusts, the coil cracked. Your body trembled and spammed as you moaned in a high pitch. Your juices poured and landed on his chin, and he licked your sweet honey. He stood up and stared at your disoriented and fucked up countenance. Eyes rolled back, skin flushed, mouth agape, and the involuntary spasm here and there as the rush swept over you.

No, can't run away

"Now, my dear dreamer. Why don't we have some fun in your room, Mm?" Your head was so fucked up, craving for more of his touch, more pleasure, that you didn't even notice you nodded to Dorian's request. He mended your clothes and assisted you in getting to your feet. He was confronted face to face with Alma as he approached the door with you in his hand and opened It. She stood there with a glass and a jug of water, watching the scene before her.

Alma's hand almost lost grip of the glass as her face turned bright crimson with rage. She snarled at Dorian, "Unhand their Highness, you pig." Before speaking, he peered down at her, amused. "But their Highness requested that I assist them to their room," he almost acted offended by her comments. Alma turned to face you after looking at him with disgust. "Is that true, your highness?" She was curious. "I- I'm tired, and I didn't mean to bother anyone." You breathed while under the influence of the substance. "Nonsense, Your Majesty. Give them to me and I'll take care of them." Alma proposed, much to his dismay, he became irritated by her interfering.

Now all eyes on me

He gently snapped his fingers, and from the corner of the hall, you noticed a figure dressed entirely in black. They moved in silently until they were directly behind Alma. They lifted a hand up and hit the back of her neck, knocking her out. As the glass fell and cracked, spreading the water jug to the ground, her body slumped limp into the stranger's arms. You let out a startled gasp, "A-Alma," and looked up in fear at Dorian. "She's fine, wicked wrecked getting in my way." Waving to the stranger holding Alma, he explained. Dorlan tightened his grip on your waist as he led you to your chamber.

The entire trek to your room was a blur, and the moment your door closed, he started undressing you. He unbuckled his pants by yanking them down and exposed his cock to you, he then flipped your body around and bent you over. Pumping his dick a few times to completely erect it, rubbing his erection over your hole before penetrating you with a strong thrust. As your moans resonated across the room, he bounced you on his dick, fondling your chest. You could feel him in your stomach, rearranging your guts to his Ilking, drilling into your walls.

Ooh, babe, hey

You begged him to be gentle with you with broken moans and whimpers. His hands were behind your back, holding your hands, and with each thrust, your body arched forward. He let go of one of your arms, reaching forward and grading your jaw, forcing you to look at him. Kissing you passionately, his tongue lapsing over your tongue, whispering "Mine" like a ritual, pounding into you. As he plunged into you yet again, hitting the point that caused you to see sparks in your vision, your thoughts became a jumbled mess. To dumb out from pleasure, your brain couldn't connect together an understandable sentence.

You whined at him as your walls tightened around his dick, not carrying anymore, just wanting to feel another orgasm. "Are you about to cum?" He questioned you, now with your face pressed against the floor and your tongue spilling out of your lips, muttering nonsense. "If you want to cum, you'll have to beg me like the whore you are." He growled directly into your ears. "I-I want to-"Your moan Interrupted you, eyeballs rolling into your skull. "Answer me, slut." He compelled you." P-please...let me c-cum." The knot in your stomach tightened as you felt his dick quiver inside you.

You don't know what it's like to drown away

You pleaded, squirming at his words. "You are so good for me," he said as he massaged your nipples," Here's your reward." He thrust Into you a couple more times before shooting rope after rope of cum Inside you. Your tight wall milked his seed into you, pushing his dick deeper within you for good measure. He wanted to be certain that the oracle was correct and that he could have a family with you. He pulled out of you after he was done releasing his seed inside you. As his seed oozes from your hole, he leaves you on the floor, ass straight up.

Going to the bathroom and seeking something to clean you up. You weren't in a position to do anything, saying to yourself something along the lines of 'so good.' Whimpering from the high, you're juiced and his mixed together in a pool beneath you. When he returned, he cleaned between your legs, removing sweat. Your flustered expression was adorable, with flushed cheeks, crossed eyes, and mouth agape. He washed your face before lifting you into his arms and carrying you to the bath, where he ran you a warm bath.

In a puddle of shame

When you woke up you were in bed covered by your blanket, With the sensation of your body thrusting forward. Loking up your met with Dorian humping into you. His cock left a trail of silk on your thigh, as his dick pressed and soon penetrated your sensitive hole. A moan left your lips, as he held your waist with a strong grip. His hands would most likely leave fingerprints when he was done abusing your hole for his pleasure. He pressed his large palm over your stomach, as his bulge wrecked through you.

"Be a sweet little dreamer and take it." He said as he kissed your cheek, your tongue hung from your mouth. Saliva spilled out your mouth as moan after moan was pulled from your twitching body. The coll In your body began to tighten before soon it broke. You came undone under him, twitching and moaning his name like it was a prayer to the gods itself. He kept thrusting into you as you whined from overstimulation. He came not long after you had come undone, spilling his seed into your body, marking you as his.

You, yes, you

The next time you woke, you were alone and completely sore. You felt that your body was made from concrete. With a groan, you got out of bed, pulled your blanket with you, and walked over to your wall where a bell with a string rested. After ringing the bell twice, you returned to your bed, and after some time, you heard a knock at your door." Come in," you told the person. You expected Alma to be entering the door, but instead, it was Raine.

"Yes, your Highness?" Raine asked as she walked to your side. You looked up at her before asking, " Is Alma alright?" You held worry in your eyes, and Ralne let out a small 'Ah' of understanding. "Worry not your Majesty, Alma has just fallen with a cold." As she informed you, you let out a small sigh of relief. Raine helped you to your feet, taking you to the bath. She didn't ask any questions about the marks on your body. You were grateful for that.

Made me insane

You were glad that Alma was not hurt by Dorlan, You were glad that you had woken up alone for whatever reason. You were worried most of all about the oracle. You would have to go to the castle's library and look into it more. You could also go to the doctor/magician's tower and research more about the topic. " All done, Your Highness," Raine exclaimed. "You were getting in the habit of getting lost in your thoughts lately. After getting out of the bath, she helped you get dressed.

You have decided to take a walk in the garden, maybe that might help you clear your mind. Raine helped you pack a basket for you to enjoy, some of your favorite treats and drinks, just what you needed to relax. As you walked and passed the garden walls, you breathed in the fresh air and the scent of flowers, and a smile graced your face. You came to a stop at the center of the garden, where a gazebo stood. Its pillars are surrounded by roses, bushes, and other types of flowers.

But not anymore

As you enjoyed the peaceful view, listening to the birds sing, and the wind moving the trees, you felt so calm. You enjoyed your peace along with a few treats here and there. From the distance, you spotted a butler walking towards you. You waited patiently for them to arrive, and when they did, you politely asked them, " How may I help you?" They gave you a bow before speaking, " His majesty, the Emperor, wishes to speak with you." They stated.

You gave the a nod before responding, " Very well, thank you. I shall be on my way." You spoke as you stood from your seat and stared your walk. You pondered what he could want to speak with you about as you walked the long hallways of the castle. Arriving at his office, you knocked twice on his door. Before announcing your arrival to him. From the other side, you heard him call out, " Come in." Taking his response, you graded the door handle and twisted it open.

I'm in control (I am in control)

As you walked into the room, you asked, " Father, what is ut that you could like to speak about." Finally lifting your head as the door closed behind you, you spotted a familiar figure with Ruby eyes sitting on a couch next to your father's desk. Your body frozed on the spot, remembering the way this man played with your body. Eyes wide and dialeted from the rush of emotions running through your head, " Take a seat, dear." Your father offered, hands crossed together over his desk

Taking a seat on the other couch next to your father's desk, you turned and looked at him. " Father, what is the meaning of this?" Your tone sounded inraged, but the could be the result of your emotions running amuck miles per hour in your mind. " Let me introduce you to the son of one of my good friends, Prince Dorian Nikolai. From the Kingdom of Snow and Ash." Your father introduced, as Dorian waved at you with an innocent smile.

I have the stage

You were awestruck, Dorian was prince. The man that ravished you like an animal, as if you weren't anything but a flashlight, a piece of meat to pound into. He was in your home, and for what more else to get his greedy hands on. " He has come here to officially court you. He has already asked for my blessing. His father hopes that we can make an alliance." Your father explained the reasons. Dorian rose from his seat, took your hand in his, and gave it a gentle kiss. Bowing, he said, " It is a pleasure to meet you, your majesty. "

As he did so, your heart skipped a beat, and you could feel your cheeks growing red. It was as if had corrupted you, twisting your sense of love and affection to his liking. His eyes looked at you with a burning possession, like you belonged to him and only him. Your eyes were meant to look upon him while he was created for the sole purpose of worshipping you. " It is also my pleasure, sir Dorian." You spoke, sounding breathless. You were ashamed to be filling aroused by his intense gaze and in front of your father, nonetheless. Dorian smiled at you knowingly.

You can't turn the page

" Great, now that you are both acquainted, we can start with the next step." Your father called out, catching both your attention to him once again. For the next couple of weeks, you and Dorian went out on dates. You so desperately wanted him to mess up, to slip in the slightest so you could tell your father to break the courting immediately. But that didn't happen he took you to your favorite places, got you flowers, and so on. If he held your hand, he held it just enough for you to feel his warmth, only to take it away and having you crave his touch.

As the weeks turned into moths, you had discovered that you were starving for his touch, even if it was in the slightest. You wanted him to look at you, to kiss you, to touch you, to love you. You didn't know what to do with yourself, you went to the magician. Telling him you felt sick for some reason, he ran some tests. By the end, he congratulated you, " You're in love, Your Highness." He smiled at you. You were....in love with Dorian? But...you hated him, right? Your mind was a mess. Your heart was telling you one thing, while your brain is telling you another.

Now do as you're told (Encore, hit the beat, boys)

Dorian knew what he was doing. He was making you so touch starved that you would have any other choice but to ask him. He waited patiently. At first, he held your hand for a long period of time before slowly decreasing it to accidental or sutel brushs of the hand. Watching as your eyes closely looked at his hands, anticipating to fell his touch only to be disappointed at getting almost nothing. He could see he was at your breaking point he just had to push you harder over the edge until you broke.

He was sitting in the garden with you, as he invited you to have a picnic with him. You were sitting in front of him in the chair opposite his, as you eat at the gazebo. You were barely holding eye contact with him, as he talked to you. He called your name, making you look up at him, “ Come here." He politely asked. You placed your utensils down before walking over to him. As you stood before him, his hand extended to your face, whipping some crums from the corner of your mouth.

Focus on me (Focus on me)

You blush at his actions, " What's wrong?" He asked you. " I have fallen...for you." You spoke, looking him in the eyes. He smiled, his eyes wrinkling in delight. He took your hand and sat you on his lap, " And why is that little dreamer?" He asked, amused. " Your touch sets me on fire, I feel I might have become addicted." Yiu spoke softly, lowering your head in shame. His pointer finger and thumb lifted your chin, making you look at him. He kissed you, a quick kiss on the lips. Before he kissed you once again more deeply. You both shared a passionate kiss.

You felt his growing bulge press against you. As he held your waist and softly thrusted into you, trying to get as much friction as he could. Breaking the kiss, you moaned, panting for air. He watched you ride him, eyes clouded with slust. " Won't you help me with this, dear." He spoke, pointing to the ever growing bulge in his pants. You knelt before him as he spread his legs to give you access to his clothed erection. His hand rested on the top of your head as you unbuckled his belt. Your body was hidden under the table, as you pulled his underwear off.

I'll be all that they see

His cock sprong out, his pretty pink tip dripping clear pears. It was veiny. You held it in your hand, giving it a few pumps up and down. Staring up at him with your doe eyes before licking his dick from the base up. You heard him gasp a "F-fuck." As his hips buckled into your hand. You kissed his tip before taking him in your mouth. He was big, and your eyes swelled with tears as you took what you could of his length. He stroked your cheek lovingly as you adjusted him into your mouth.

Soon, your tongue began to swerell around his length. Your head bouncing up and down, saliva falling from your lips, his hands still rested on top of your head. As he threw his head back in pleasure, he spotted movement from his peripheral. In the distance, a lone butler was waking his way towards you both. He voiced his concerns to you, but that only made you suck on him harder. With the butler quickly approaching, he could feel himself, start to twitch. His balls began yo tighten it was only a matter of time before he came undone.

I'll make them sway

The butler finally arrived, and he tried his best to seem relaxed. " Pause my intrusion, but is their highness here?" They asked, looking at him. He could feel you smiling around him, chiki little slut. "N-No, they just le-left to the castle." He stumbled out. You sucked on him harder. He didn't think he would last long. " Ah, I see. Thank you, sir Dorian." The butler bowed to him as he spoke. He turned around to take his leave before stopping again. " Are you alright? Your face seems a tad red." They asked him. "Y-yes. I'm just a little tired, I-I suppose." His voice threatening to stutter as he speaks.

Shit, he he was breaking. He was about to come as your tongue rubbed his slit, the butler looked at him before nodding and walking away. The second the butler was out of ear shot, he graded your head and thrusted into your mouth. With a groan, he spilled ropes after ropes of come into your mouth. You gladly accepted it, swallowing it all up. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue, "You're so good for me, darling." He stroked your cheek. He helped you up and gave you a kiss.

No, can't run away

When he broke the kiss, he looked you in the eyes before speaking, " When we get to your room, I will fuck and stuff you full of my cum that you won't ve able to walk tomorrow. Considere that you're punishment and reward for being such a good slut for me." He finished by giving you a kiss on the lips. Enjoying how your pupils dialated and you shifted on his lap excitedly. "How did you get in my dreams?" Your doe eyes looked at him in wonder. " I guess we shared the same fates. That is why I was in your dreams, to find you and make you mine." He said while kissing you.

He lifted you into his arms and carried you down to the castle. He was going to make sure you couldn't walk tomorrow. Let alone talk after moaning and screaming his name in pleasure the whole day.

Now all eyes on me

Now all eyes on, all eyes on me

❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍

-` 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖓𝖉, 𝖍𝖔𝖕𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖊𝖓𝖏𝖔𝖞𝖊𝖉! ´- sorry It took so long I was running out of ideas for this one.

[arkiliastuff]

Morning Lullaby

Jesse Cash x Fem! Reader - One Shot

Warning : None. Just fluff and comfort fluff. Also cute stuff

A/N : So I had this idea the other day, when I woke up, very early (5 AM), having troubles sleeping (yay) and thought about this. I just imagined that, in need of comfort, so here you go! First fic about Jesse, it's very short, but I think more will come (hehe). Hope you'll like that short story that you can read and read again as long as you need ! :D

~ The little beans taglist : @valiantroeagleangel @lma1986 @thatchickwiththecamera @vanishxcanvas @thefallennightmare @burning-outx @cncohshit

─── ⊹⊱✿⊰⊹ ────── ⊹⊱✿⊰⊹ ────── ⊹⊱✿⊰⊹ ───

You were having a bad night, filled with strange dreams. You were moving and turning around in your bed, hoping that changing the position will actually do something. But it didn’t help. You suddenly heard a meowling cat outside. You tried to ignore it at first. But as it continued, you heard more clearly. Despite having your window and shutters closed, this noise alone kept you awake. You took your phone from your nightstand and turned it on. You sighed in exasperation when you saw the time. It was almost 5 AM. You were awake for more than ten minutes at this point. Yet you still needed to sleep. You had an appointment in a few hours and you needed a full rest. However, this desperate cat was still meowling and it was getting on your nerves.

So you decided to open your shutters, trying to see what was going on below, with this cat. The latter one had stopped meowling when you shushed him, before running away when it saw your face.

“Great. Now I’m completely awake, you idiot.” You muttered.

You heard the early birds singing while the sun was slowly rising, changing the night sky into a pinkish-orange shade of the dawn. You inhaled the morning scent, giving oxygen to your still sleepy brain.

With your phone in one hand, you started to dial a number, hoping he would pick up even though you were miles away from each other. The ringtone rang for two long minutes but with no answer. As expected. From where he was in the world, touring with his music band, the hours weren’t the same as yours. It was probably the evening in his time zone. You tried to call him a second time. You ended up on his voicemail. Okay, that was a bit odd of him, but you also thought he was maybe having a party with his bandmates. Or perhaps he was goofing around with them after a show, as usual. Yeah, that was more of a believable thought. So you decided to leave a voice message.

“Hey, it’s me. You’re probably busy right now, considering what time it is, but I just had a bad night and I couldn’t sleep anymore. I know it’s silly but you said I could call you anytime if I needed to. Even if it was the middle of the night. So please, call me back when you can, okay?”

You paused shortly, feeling a bit emotional as tears were coming to your eyes.

“I miss you so much, Jesse. I miss your voice. I miss seeing you. It’s hard to not see you at home, these days. Anyway, call me, okay? I really need to hear, at least your voice. I love you”

You ended up your voice message, before wiping away your tears and leaning your elbows on your window, staring at the small courtyard outside of your apartment. As you were about to go back to your bed, your phone buzzed. It was him. Your cell phone almost slipped between your hands as you picked up.

“Hello ?”

“Hey, Y/N. I just saw your two missing calls but I couldn’t answer right away. So, I called you back as soon as I could.” Jesse replied with his raspy voice.

“It’s fine. I figured it out. Did you listen to my voice message ?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah, I did. That’s why I called you immediately.”

You hummed as a response, not knowing what to say all of a sudden. But Jesse anticipated the upcoming silence and continued talking.

“So you were having a bad night? How do you feel ?”

You smiled on your phone, just hearing him being so considerate with you when it came to troubles with sleeping. You were missing him deeply.

“Well, I just had some random and stupid dreams that kept haunting me somehow. I was remembering some old conversations I had with my colleagues. I guess work is stressing me out, recently.” You told him.

He listened to you patiently, waiting for you to continue.

“If you were here, I’d really need a big hug right now.” You admitted.

“I know. Me too.. I'm having fun with the guys here, but it's different without you.” He said softly “ Plus, it’s always nice to cuddle when one of us is having a nightmare.”

You smiled and nodded as if he was in front of you, having this conversation.

“How time is it in your zone ?” He said, changing the subject.

You quickly checked the time.

“It’s 6:17 AM.” You replied.

“Gosh, and you’ve been awake for an hour now ?”

“Yup.”

“Also, don’t you have an appointment today? You told me about it a few days ago”

“Yup, I do. And I’m going to be sooooo tired the rest of the day.” You said, ironically.

“Y/N…You should really sleep.” Jesse insisted with a worried tone.

“Well, you know what could help me? I still can sleep even if it's an hour and a half, if you sing me one of your songs.” You suggested, already smiling as if he couldn’t refuse it anyway.

Jesse sighed, faking an upset tone before answering.

“Hmm okay. Just hold on a second.”

He turned on his camera, before leaving. He picked up his guitar and came back, sitting on the floor. He was making adjustments on his instrument while you quietly turned your phone camera on, as well. Getting comfortable under your blanket, you wriggled happily in anticipation.

Then Jesse started to play softly the first notes on his guitar. You find them pretty familiar. As he continued, you began to realize which song it was.

“Oh! Is that ?...” You started.

You saw Jesse smiling while he kept playing. Blue Reverie. A fitting song considering your situation. When he started singing, you felt chills all over your body. After all, he was singing it only for you.

“Silent wake as the day is burning,

Slip back into my silhouette.

I don’t know when the trains are running. Get me back home to hide away. Hide away, hide away”

He subtly moved on the next verse after playing his soft notes of on his guitar.

" Sky ablaze in the subtle turning Two way motion in a pirouette Wide awake with a quiet yearning Get me seaside to hide away"

The notes on his acoustic guitar were so soothing, which made you slowly, but surely, dozing off. Jesse continued to sing so gently to the refrain.

“Time waits for me in a blue reverie

Time waits for me in bloom”

Your eyes were closing on their own as if Jesse’s voice was so hypnotic that it could put you into a sleep filled with sweet dreams. You wished you could record him and replay his tender lullaby on a loop. But your fatigue was getting the best of you, not giving you the time to regret your untaken decision. Once you’d pressed more your head on your pillow, your eyes fully closed, Jesse was getting to the end of the chorus.

“...Do you imagine? The illusion calls your name

From a world you can't embrace

Hide away, hide away

Hide away.”

As he was finsihing the song, he stopped playing. Yet you were already sleeping deeply. He chuckled softly when he saw you forgot to hang up your video call. Jesse took also this short opportunity to admire your sleepy face.

“Well, it seems you enjoyed it. Goodnight, sunshine. I love you.” He whispered.

That night, you found yourself having the most gentle dream ever, with Jesse in it, telling you sweet words. Even though you had a short night, you felt pretty much right for your appointment. The lullaby did really help you to fall asleep. Little did you know that Jesse had sent you later during the day, an acoustic demo for Blue Reverie, just for you, so you could listen to his soft voice all the time. He was definitely the sweetest human being ever.

[meracyn]

The love you left behind

oneshot. gn reader, angst.

tw ; mentions of death

How long has it been already?

One month? Two? Is it five now? The days after the accident blurred together, it all happened too fast— You didn’t remember anymore.

You stood up, and walked over to where your lover sat on the soft grass, gazing out at the river, a pebble in hand. The sky above was coated in orange and pinkish hues, the sunset painting the clouds in a faint gray color mixed with purple, swaying in the cool breeze.

You stayed still, watching quietly. Even though you wanted to speak, you wouldn’t be heard. You were gone after all—

you were dead.

I wish things didn’t end this way.

It had become a routine; this silent watch over them—making sure they were doing well. In the beginning, it was hell. The shouts, the intense denial, the pain. The line that separated the living and the deceased wasn’t too wide.

You still held feelings, memories of your life throughout the years, still shed tears, even without a beating heart.

The pain was supposed to be gone after death. Why is it still there?

Loneliness, sorrow, love, too. It wasn’t different, it felt exactly the same. But it doesn’t matter, your feelings wouldn’t be able to reach them.

Unless we reunite in death.

As more time went by, you started to realize they were moving on— with someone else. Filling the void in their heart, forgetting about you. You could see it in their eyes, you could feel it even—the look of hope, of healing. The way their heart began to beat a bit quicker each time the two were met.

Can you still feel heartbreak even without a beating heart?

You finally had the answer.

You wanted to be angry. Hold a grudge against the person, shout and somehow reach out to your lover and be remembered again. Be loved again. But you couldn’t. You had no voice, nothing to carry your pain in.

Filled with dread, betrayal. You tried to accept their decision and let go, to be happy, but you couldn’t deny the growing feeling of resentment.

Is it selfish to wish that you never let me go?

You could only watch. Watch and wish. Wish that you were still a part of their love, be reassured and held in their arms once again. To be told “I love you” one last time.

But those wishes were unreciprocated. You were forgotten already, fading away in the back of their mind. The pain was unbearable, you weren’t in peace. The vow you once made after death to always protect them, ended up being broken.

You couldn’t watch anymore.

Either way, it wouldn’t have mattered if you still did or not.

After all, they were happy with someone else now.

— Aether, Izuku, Denki, Childe, Meguru, Gojo, Shoto, Tanaka, Tanjiro, Nagisa, Itto, Gorou, any of your favorite characters!

a/n; first time writing angst lmao btw theres so many characters i didnt know who to pick so i chose random but you guys obviously have bigger brain so choose whoever you think fits w/this, havent posted in almost a month too i just realized..ill go sleep rn 💀 and. pls send genshin reqs (but only ‘til sumeru im hella behind whoops)

[starsturniolos]

I think he knows

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Fem Reader

Synopsis: Matt is y/n’s childhood bestfriend. Y/n has always had a thing for Matt , but unbeknownst to y/n , matt knew the whole time.

Warnings⚠️ : smut , fluff , teensy bit of angst if u squint, use of nicknames (baby, love)

This is my first story on this app so bear w me pls😭

————————————————————————

It was just another day , a day that I had planned to hangout with Matt. I check my phone and I see that he had texted me that hes here. I skip along my porch steps and run to the car , waving eagerly at the blue eyed boy waiting for me in the vehicle.

“Hey y/n!” Matt says , his eyes lighting up at the sight of me.

“Mattyyyyy!!! Ive missed you!” I squeal and lean over to hug him lightly.

“Ew never call me that again. Strictly Matt.” Matt says , playfully disgusted.

“Awwww cmon matty you know you like it.” I say in a playful sing-song teasing manner. Matt scoffs and starts the car. I set up my things for my passenger side of his car. Matt begins driving us to a café and I adjust my makeup using his mirror.

One of matts hands grips the steering wheel and the other rests on the center glove compartment. I had always liked Matt, not like a friend. I like liked him. My life would end if he ever found out , and to be honest part of me thinks he knows.

“Soooooo, how was your morning matty?” I tease again. He scoffs and blows the question off.

“It was fine l- i mean y/n” Matt speaks.

“Wait what were you about to call me?” I ask and look at him, my eyes practically pleading him to repeat himself. “N-Nothing y/n dont worry about it.” He says and adjusts his pants.

“Whatever you say matty.” I say and flip open my phone, matts instagram profile pops up I go to comment on his post. A couple hours pass and the ride had stayed an awkward silence ever since that nickname nearly slipped matt’s lips.

“Were here.” Matt states and gets out the car to go open your door. “Such a gentleman.” I say and he blushes slightly.

Matt and Y/N walk into the café and get a table for two at the counter, the view is perfect. The sun a perfect orange contrasting with the purpley pinkish sky. Y/N picks up the menu and starts looking at the options.

I kick off my heels and start putting my feet on top of matt’s white airforce 1’s. “Being a girl hurts.” I complain and move my feet on his shoes playfully before sliding them back on my feet. As I remove my feet i see matt adjust his pants again.

“Whats wrong Matty? Youve been moving a whole lot tod-“ My words are interrupted by matts lips pushed against mine. I let myself get lost in the passionate kiss before he pulls away, looking into my eyes, searching for the right words to say.

“Does that answer your question y/n?” Matt asks and continues to look at me with desperation and lust in his eyes.

“N-No, W-Why did you kiss me Matt?” I ask, not knowing what to do.

“Because im inlove with you, y/n. From the day we met I knew I had a crush on you, and you do too. I can see the way you look at me, how you copy what I do, what I wear. How you try to get along with my insufferable friends just so you can hang around with me. I know you like me y/n. I like you too.” He speaks with a breathy voice, continuously searching for the answer in my eyes. Without a response, I pull him into another kiss, this time more desire and lust overwhelming us.

Matt slams a hand on the table, $200 leaving his palm. He pushes me out the door, his lips never leaving mine, he opens the car door, pushing me down on the carseat, quickly taking off his shirt and starting to try to unbutton mine. I submit completely, letting his hands roam my half naked body.

“Matt..~” I moan softly. My eyes never leaving his.

“I know baby I know..~ So eager for me..~”

His praise only makes me want him more. He leans down to kiss my neck, continuing to undress me. I soon get too impatient and rip my skirt off by myself.

“Mmm..~ Somones needy..~” Matt coos, a smirk paints his painfully beautiful face. I nod and buck my hips toward him, his erection now resting comfortably on my stomach. I whine in a effort to get him to fulfill my needs.

“Shhh..~” Matt whispers softly. He unbuttons his pants, pulling his boxers down aswell. His erect cock springs out and I lick my lips. He preps my entrace by entering two of his fingers, curling them slightly at the end, drawing helpless moans from my slightly agape lips.

“May I?” Matt asks with a grin on his face, satisfied with my horny expression. I dont say a word, I just nod frantically, consenting to his words. At this cue, he pulls his fingers out, licking them clean.

He gives his dick a stroke and then slowly pushes inside of me. An immediate moan leaves my mouth, my head tossed back and my back arched. “Oh fuck, Matt..~ Y-Youre so big..”

“Mmmm you feel so good ma.” He says as he starts thrusting in and out of me, grabbing a hold of my wrists as I squirm beneath him.

“Youre taking me so well baby. I didn’t know youd be so tight. You dont know how long ive thought about this.”

I say nothing but moan, letting my legs wrap around his waist. “M’gonna cum..~ P-Please let me cum.” I moan out desperately, waiting for his permission.

“Fuck yeah baby, cum with me.” He says smirking, he grabs my waist harder as we chase our highs together. After we have hit our orgasms, matt pulls out and cleans me up.

“Okay love lets get up.” He says, grabbing my hands moving me up, picking me up off the bed. He sets me on the floor and I collapse to the floor. “Mmph.. fuck.” I sigh.

“Shit baby you okay?” He asks and quickly lifts me up. He rubs my back lightly and kisses my forehead softly.

“Fuck matt, you took my ability to walk.” I giggle and blush slightly.

“My pleasure” He replies and laughs with me. He walks me to the bathroom and we shower together. Later we talked about our feelings and now he’s finally mine.