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girlsworldillusion · 3 months ago

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Ocean's Tear

Aemond x Siren!Reader

Summary: At first it was just curiosity. There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest.

Captain Targaryen, they called him.

It seemed like just a silly curiosity. But you quickly realize that your little curiosity turns into something much worse.

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive:

Taking an interest in a human.

Rated: M +18

Warnings: interspecies relationships, mentions of blood and death, dark themes.

Word account: 9k

Author's note: This story was divided into two parts. I'll be posting the final act soon, if it gets a good reception. Happy reading!

At first it was just curiosity.

There was something about the human that, for the first time in longer than you could remember, piqued your interest.

That something could be many things, of course, and at first you thought it was just his unusual hair color, a singularity that made him stand out from the rest like a sore thumb.

Despite having seen many different humans throughout your life, you didn't remember ever seeing one with hair like his. As far as you knew, only aged humans had hair that color. But the man you began to observe closely didn't seem aged. Quite the opposite. His tall, strong physique indicated that he was a very healthy adult man of, if your knowledge of the human race was anything to go by, thirty years old at most. And yet, the strands of his hair were as light as the pure white moon that shone above the ocean.

But there was another singularity about the man. He always wore a damn leather eye patch on the left side of his face. When you first saw this, you laughed in derision at how stereotypical the human was being. What? A ship captain wearing an eyepatch? So predictable. All that was missing was a hook in his hand and a wooden leg to complete the standard pirate look.

It should have been ridiculous, at the very least. Except it wasn't.

It was actually embarrassing how fascinating you found the dark contrast of the leather with the silver strands that were always coming loose from his ponytail.

Honestly, it was worrying how quickly you were becoming interested in this strange human.

But, the days passed and, regardless of how peculiar those details about him were, that wasn't the only thing that made you pay so much attention to the man.

The way he behaved was also different from the others. Unlike the loud and obnoxious humans you were used to encountering while sailing these seas, this man walked the deck with his head held high and an indifferent expression, a cigarette lazily held between his fingers, telling each of the crew members what to do in a firm and authoritative manner, although he never had to raise his voice at any time.

Captain Targaryen, they called him. He was always calm, always in control, silent most of the time - as if he were directly responsible for inspiring and maintaining order around him. It was immediately clear to you why he was the captain of this ship. Just as it was also clear that this human was more fortunate than others you had seen. Not only did his posture and manner reveal his high-class upbringing, but also his ship which, despite keeping its simple dark tones and overall understated appearance, was much larger and much better preserved than those that normally visited this area of the ocean.

You didn't know who this man was, but he certainly wasn't just anyone.

Despite all this, he was still a human, and even though he had caught your attention for reasons that not even you could fully understand, you knew from the beginning that you shouldn't entertain such curiosity. Humans were cunning and treacherous little things, regardless of their appearance. And even if such a notion was irrelevant (it wasn't), he wouldn't last long anyway. Not here. If you had noticed the ship's approach and, especially, the presence of the various crew members inside it, your sisters had too. It was only a matter of time now. The days of not only this man, but everyone under his command, were numbered.

You shouldn't entertain your curiosity.

But, despite all your rules, tact, and minimal capacity for good judgment, you found yourself getting closer and closer to the human's vessel.

Surprisingly, there was still some sense left in you, and you chose to do this always at night, when it would be easier to keep yourself hidden from unwanted eyes.

That was the reason, of course. Not the fact that it was at night that the man came out on deck to take a breather, when his crew was already asleep. Every night, without exception, punctual as clockwork.

Fuck. You are such an idiot.

A pair of large eyes peer through the gentle rippling of the water. Submerged up to your nose, you keep cautiously away (though closer than you were last night, and the night before, and the night before that... - tsk, idiot, idiot). The length of your long tail sways below the surface, deceptively delicate fins rippling in anticipation, tense and restless.

He lights a cigarette.

Your sensitive nose wrinkles in response to the disgusting and very human habit, but you barely blink as you watch him raise the thing to his lips. He holds it there until the tip burns an abrasive shade of red, staring at the dark, endless horizon ahead, the ship beneath his feet rocking rhythmically with the waves lapping at its sides. He pulls his fingers away after a few seconds to breathe in a cloud of smoke, and you swear you can taste the toxic flavor of tobacco even from where you stand. The thought doesn’t bother you as much as it should. The chilly night wind blows a few loose strands in front of his face, the rest of his silver hair tied back in a messy bun.

His posture during the day is always the same; confident and calm. He’s the picture of composure most of the time. But here, at night, smoking his disgusting cigarette in deep, silent contemplation, he almost always looks...sad. As if the burden weighs heavily on his shoulders and this is the only time he can leave small visible cracks in his normally impenetrable countenance.

Lonely. He looks lonely.

Maybe he's not so different from you after all.

Your tail fin shakes a little harder, the fingers on your hands flexing agitatedly. What was with this human, anyway? Why were you wasting your time here, trying to understand his fragile and insignificant human feelings when the time for hunting had obviously not even begun? This kind of behavior was not common in your species. Of course, if any of your sisters showed up you could just say that you were observing your prey, getting to know its weak points better for when the time came to attack.

But was that really what you were doing?

The human rests his elbows and leans his body on the edge of the ship, once again bringing the cigarette to his lips. His strong forearms are exposed by the rolled-up sleeve of his black shirt, showing off a pale ivory complexion, long and prominent veins along its length. He is like a carefully crafted statue, his body agile and tall, powerful and elegant.

He tilts his face gently and blinks slowly and vaguely. You recognize that this is the worst moment to realize that from where you are standing you can't tell the exact shade of his eye - apparently his only good eye, in fact. The thought leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

You want to know what color his eye is.

"Gods, what am I doing?" You mutter sullenly as you sink gently, pushing your body closer to the ship with a flick of your tail. Despite your obvious and undeniable propensity for making reckless choices, your movements are carefully calculated, using the waves and the blind spots of the moonlight to cover any suspicious tracks.

You are now as close to the human vessel as you have ever been - at least outside of a context other than exclusively for attack and feeding. If you swing your tail enough you might even touch the side of the ship, the human hovering a few feet above you. Your hands are strangely trembling beneath the surface, nervous and anxious, and you flex your fingers to contain your stupid reaction, feeling the sharp tips of your claws in contact with the soft palms.

Your discretion is rewarded with the human's seemingly complete ignorance, who remains in the same position as before, still smoking and staring at the choppy waves, oblivious to your presence. You sigh softly, a sound of relief, letting your eyes travel over the sharp, clear lines of his masculine face.

The night is dark, cloudy, with only the moonlight and a few lights from the human vessel itself illuminating the surroundings. But your eyes are capable, much more capable than a human's, made to see perfectly underwater and stalk your prey with skill, and you part your lips when you clearly realize that his eye is blue. As blue as the sea is near the coast, where the waves shine with a crystalline and mesmerizing prism, like ethereal stained glass.

As bright as...

The man exhales another mouthful of that intoxicating smoke into the humid night air, but you barely blink where you stand. Your fingers instinctively close around the stone attached to the necklace floating in front of your breasts. The blue gem is cold against your fingertips, but you know its power and magic burn like burning embers.

You’re so distracted that you barely notice the significance of the human’s next move, your eyes only half noticing his hand rising to his face. You watch without really seeing as he removes the eye patch from his face, vaguely returning to the present as you think of the strange break in routine that this act has made - he had never removed the eye patch during the nights you had been watching.

He would go out, smoke that horrible cigarette without any rush while looking out at the endless sea, throw the toxic stuff on the floor when he was done and extinguish the ember with a drag of his boot before entering the ship to sleep. Every night, religiously.

Any thoughts of routine evaporate from your mind when the leather finally comes off his face, caught between the captain’s fingers as he lowers his hand. Your lips part and your eyes widen, your tail freezes below the surface for a few seconds.

There is a stone where his eye should be. A blue stone. A stone you would recognize anywhere. Your own blue gem seems to warm between your fingers in response, glowing subtly as if sensing the presence of a twin stone.

“W-what...but - how?” You whisper, confused and alarmed. How could this human have something like this? Not even all sirens had such a stone. You yourself only managed to find yours a few years ago.

The Ocean's Tear, as the stone was known to your kin, was an extremely rare and nearly impossible to find relic, treasured by all sirens for its power to grant them specific ‘gifts’. The gifts vary from individual to individual, however. While some could heal themselves from any harm, some could hear the thoughts of others as if they were their own, others could persuade any living creature to do what they wanted. The possibilities go on and on.

You, after decades of tireless searching, had found your gem in a remote corner of the ocean, having gone through thirst, hunger and almost losing your own life when facing a relentless pod of hungry orcas that chased you at some point towards the end of the journey. It was an exhausting search and almost cost you more than you were willing to give, but it was all worth it when you finally touched your own 'ocean's tear'. You remember how the jewel warmed slightly and sparkled like countless bright diamond points between your trembling fingers, reacting instantly to your touch, as if it had also been waiting for this moment all its life - waiting for you all its life.

You cried that day, for the first time.

Of course, after days and days of the gem hanging proudly around your neck and nothing different happening, you started to get suspicious. Days turned into months and months stretched into years and you didn't see any change in your body; no psychic gifts, no persuasive power over sea creatures or self-healing abilities. You were still just you, the same as always.

It was frustrating and humiliating.

But you couldn't stop wearing the jewel, after all it was still the 'ocean's tear'. Any siren who had it would automatically gain the silent respect of others. You were someone capable with this stone. With it, you were important. Someone wise and strong enough to seek and find the impossible. You were proud to show off your relic - even if it was useless in the end.

The bad mood was constantly present with you since then. Disappointed, but strangely not surprised. Of course this would happen to you; of course you would swim tirelessly across the seven seas in search of the jewel of jewels and it simply wouldn't work for you. That's the kind of karma that haunts you.

You had almost died to conquer the impossible only to find out that the impossible didn't want you.

And now this human dares to flaunt the impossible as if it were something anyone could have?

As if it were something that some random human who thinks he knows the ocean could claim for himself just because he has a ship and other stupid little humans to put inside it?

The stone wouldn't do anything for him, you know. The gem only reacts to sirens, without exception. This human dared to steal something that belongs to your species, only for the artifact to be absolutely wasted in the end. In this human's hands the jewel was just a cold, shiny stone. Beautiful and exotic, no doubt, but useless.

(But wasn't it also useless in your hands?)

You snarl at your own incriminating thought, narrowing your eyes to slits as you watch the human tilt his face - oblivious to the dangerous and highly emotional turmoil of a supposedly non-existent creature right next to him. The moonlight gloriously intensifies the smooth complexion of his handsome face, the aristocratic line of his nose, the long silver strands fluttering in the wind. His good eye and the damned stolen jewel, dark as the deep waters of the sea.

The instant thought that this human, selfish and cruel as he is, could be as deserving (or undeserving, in this case) as you of something as pure and sacred as the ocean's tear, is so offensive that it is physically nauseating. How could he have something that you have spent decades of your life searching for? Something that countless of your sisters would never even have the privilege of seeing, much less having for themselves? He does not deserve this.

Your teeth grind, the sharp canines piercing the inside of your mouth until you taste your own blood.

He's the enemy. No matter how interesting and handsome you find him, the stone (an heirloom of your people, not his) that he sports embedded in his face is just more proof of how dirty and morally corrupt humans are - something that, admittedly, you have known all along.

He's a thief. A sneaky usurper.

Of all the terribly reckless things you could do, you had chosen one of the most dangerous and destructive. Take an interest in a human. And you know it. From the human race, only the worst is expected, really. You just hated that this human in question was so fascinating.

"How did you get this?"

Your own grumpy voice echoes in the silence of the night, scaring not only the human on the ship, but yourself as well. The sound is a bubbling rustle of words, hoarse around the edges and almost brittle from disuse, rarely having been used for conversational purposes. But it is audible enough to catch the human's attention. Your eyes widen, any animosity and anger instantly forgotten in the shock of your complete and utter lack of control. The man turns his head in the direction of your voice, quick as a whip, at exactly the same moment that you react and dive.

"Idiot, idiot, idiot!" You repeat the mantra, swimming until you are at a safe depth.

The question had simply slipped through your lips without you being able to stop it, but you knew how much you had screwed up.

Looking up, distressed and uncertain, you see through the ripples of the water that the human is staring intently at the sea, his one eye sliding from one corner to the other - trying to find the source of the voice he heard. The darkness of the night is on your favor and you know he can't see anything but foam and the dark waves, no matter how hard he tries. You hope he quickly comes to the most logical conclusion for this situation; that he didn't hear what he thinks he heard. It was just his own mind playing tricks on him. Maybe he blames it on tiredness and sleep, or the lack of it.

But as he stands there, brows furrowed and serious eye, stubbornly searching for something that even he himself wouldn't know what, something whispers to you that he won't just give up.

"Hello?" He asks in a thick, drawling tone, tired you notice, once again leaning slightly on the side of the ship to better see the waters below. When no sound other than the waves of the sea is heard, he hums thoughtfully for a moment, almost imperceptibly softening his frown to something more neutral and calm. "It's okay. I know you're there. It's not the first time I feel like I'm being watched, to be honest." His voice is the same as you remember; steady, controlled, a low timbre that’s almost husky around the edges. You would be delighted by it, as you have been many times before, if you weren’t on the verge of a panic attack, your cheeks darkening in embarrassment at the confirmation that he’d somehow felt your presence this whole time.

Gods, a human was embarrassing you. What had you come to?

"But this is the first time you've said anything. I have to say that you surprised me tonight, since I assumed we'd be playing this game for a while longer." He continues, a vaguely playful quirk in his drawl, adjusting his body so that he's leaning sideways on the deck and bringing what's left of his cigarette to lips again. Your heart pounds violently in your chest, your tail fin rattling restlessly with your anxiety.

You don't know why you're still here.

He puffs out his swirling cloud of smoke, looking completely at ease and at ease with the situation - although he's heard a mysterious, feminine voice ring out in the middle of the night, in one of the most dangerous parts of the entire ocean, in a place where he logically knows there no be any women. But he remains calm. Unlike you, who have everything but control over yourself at this moment. And, once again, you feel diminished by this human.

He behaves in the opposite direction of what you're used to from human behavior. He confuses and intrigues you, awakening feelings you never imagined you had for someone of his kind.

Here you were, undeniably afraid of being caught, but unable to simply swin away and leave him behind. All because some random human had made you interested in him. Turned you into a soft thing, fascinated by unusual hair colors and eye patches. Watching a lesser creature constantly, attentively and almost obsessively, like a damn stalker would - and not even in the sense you normally watch humans; in the context of predator and prey. With each passing day it became more evident that you were not planning to eat this human.

It was just you, interested in him.

For the first time in your long life, you don't know what you're doing. He messes with the natural order of things and you don't know what to do.

The world has grown old. But not you, nor any of your many sisters. The world has grown old, but it has always been the same to you. There has always been an order to follow. You have been here for longer than you can remember, hidden beneath the waves while the men above came and went, building and destroying everything around them. You have watched them grow into selfish, greedy creatures, thirsting for a dominion over the world they are unable to maintain. Blind to the fact that there are other forms of life besides their own, men see themselves as better and more important, hunting and killing without scruple or consideration those they consider inferior to them. Without remorse.

But it is here, in the far corners of the ocean, that they find retribution for their acts of greed.

Men take everything. But here, shadowed by legends and tales, the sirens feed on men; on proud sailors roaming the vast blue sea, their noses in the air and their egos throbbing that nothing could harm them.

You were the men's reckoning. That was all. This was the natural order of things.

The time for the men on this ship, including their fascinating captain, was approaching, and there was absolutely nothing you could do to prevent such a fate. You shouldn’t entertain mixed feelings for him. You shouldn’t. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t do anything against an entire horde of sirens that would inevitably be here soon. Cultivating any feelings wouldn’t do him any good, much less you.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to show up yet. You’ve already given me the proof I needed to know that I’m not insane, and I appreciate that.” He continues his monologue above the surface, unfazed by the lack of response, a small, amused tug at the corner of his pink lips. Below the waters you almost snort, thinking that he definitely shouldn’t be grateful for that. Regardless of whether you decided to show up or not, he would still be considered, at the very least, ‘insane’ by anyone who heard this story later.

His words, however, bring heat to your stomach, rising until it darkens your cheeks.

The Captain Targaryen had graced you with fine words, admittedly, simple as they were, and perhaps there was some truth to them. He had always been different, after all; he lacked the common harshness and cruelty with which captains tended to lead their crews. He had a fair amount of coldness in his speech, true, and his humor was acidic and even dark at times. But he did not seem cruel. He commanded with a firm hand, yes, but also with respect.

Perhaps, deep down, he meant well.

But there was still that voice that screamed that his nature would inevitably betray him. He was human, after all. It was in his nature to be seduced by his own greed and ambition. You only wondered how long it would be before the tide turned and he showed his true colors.

But even knowing all this, you find yourself unable to stop yourself from making the next monumental mistake.

The man sighs wearily one last time, betraying his indifferent facade, the cigarette clutched between his fingers falling to the floor of the deck, just waiting for the usual drag of the sole of his boot. He looks a little longer at the dark waves below, his neutral expression not wavering much, but there is that same glint that screams loneliness flickering discreetly in his blue gaze - the stolen stone singing to you from the other side. He would leave.

Before you think, you are acting.

In your seriously questionable logic, you know that nothing has really changed around you. But in your body powered purely by adrenaline and poor choices, you feel as if even the waves have calmed in response to your action. The world stands still as you push yourself to the surface with a rhythmic undulation of your tail, webbed fingers moving in unison. Even the wind seems to have died down; all you can hear is your blood rushing in your ears. Deep in your chest, something pulls, twists, hurts — sings —

Your head slowly emerges from the water.

It takes a few seconds for the Captain’s gaze to settle on you, and you could have used that time to try to make amends for your rash decision, but you choose not to move. And when he looks at you, his indifferent expression finally cracking to reveal a single wide eye and lips parted to gasp a startled sound and you finely sketch a reaction other than silent hysteria. A shy smile stretches your plush lips as you notices his expression, despite how seriously damaged your nerves are — perhaps irreparably. You did this, you broke that perfect calm of his.

Despite your silent victory, your large, narrow-pupiled eyes stare back at him with apprehension, your heart racing in your chest and your breathing ragged. There’s a moment when neither of you make a move, both frozen in place, unsure of what the hell to do with the surreal scene unfolding right in front of you.

It feels like an eternity in the void before you’re swallowing the uncomfortable lump that’s permanently lodged in your throat, daring to swim in hesitant jerks closer to the vessel.

He watches you with unwavering focus, a little more composed, but still open-mouthed. His steps stagger slightly, but eventually he too makes his way toward the lower part of the ship, where you’re swimming.

You stop when you reach the raised boarding platform, the human slowly approaching from the other side, never taking his eye off you, as if afraid to blink and you’ll disappear. He stops walking when you raise a hand, blinking in surprise at the elastic, almost transparent membrane between your spread fingers.

Somehow he quickly understands what you want, shaking his head once to signal that he won’t go any further from that point. With that, you prop your elbows on the edge of the platform, lifting yourself just a few inches above the surface, the heavy strands slick on your head and saltwater running down your cheeks to drip from the tip of your chin, the bridge of your nose, and the arch of your lips.

“I...fuck, what the hell was in that cigarette anyway?” He gasps and crouches awkwardly, looking away at the length of your long tail swaying beneath the waves, lush fins undulating languidly like a delicate wet veil in the wind. He takes in every last detail of you with absolute focus, leaving you as embarrassed as you're flattered — but mostly, hyper-aware of yourself. But you force yourself to relax, trying to imagine yourself through his gaze.

The countless shiny scales all over your tail range from an endless expanse of onyx to purple at some angles, gradually lightening to the side fins and the end of your tail, tinged with a striking shade of translucent lilac. The purple scales were also dotted softly all over your body; rising in a perfect gradient from the sides of your waist until disappearing into the soft cream of your skin, on the undersides and sides of your forearms and elbows, delicately covering the soft, discreet mounds of your breasts and marking the entire line of your spine.

There is a discreet dusting on the tops of your cheeks, a subtle kaleidoscope of purple and soft pink that transforms into small, bright freckles as your emotions rise - as they are right now. Your full, pink lips hide almost normal teeth, except for the dangerously sharp canines and incisors. Long, thick eyelashes over a pair of large, expressive eyes with slitted pupils like a cat's. Your hair waves around the shoulders, floating beneath the surface of the water in a slow dance, partially hiding the three small lines that mark the gills on either side of your neck. Your hands, though small and seemingly delicate, are adorned with long, sharp claws, as dark as the darkest part of the ocean, the thin translucent membrane between your fingers much stronger than it looks.

It's unnerving how insecure he makes you with his prolonged silence, just looking at every inch of you with his bright eye and parted lips.

You know you're beautiful. If there's any truth to the many tales about your species, it's the undeniably seductive appeal of your appearance. Deadly beauty, the tales say. It's your greatest hunting trick, after all. But under the weight of that watchful gaze, you find yourself unable to escape the clutches of insecurity. What if he didn't find your colors appealing? It's true that your scales aren't as vibrant and colorful as some of your sisters. Your tones are more muted and simple compared to the bright and open ones of your distant relatives. Maybe he found you...too dark?

And why is this human's opinion so important to you?

You huff and straighten up until your shoulders are completely out of the water, the sapphire pendant floating in front of your chest. Your expression takes on notes of embarrassed annoyance, the small freckles on your cheeks and the bridge of your nose shimmering subtly. The human drinks in your reaction attentively, not understanding what they mean, but undeniably fascinated by them.

"You're...holy shit...this is a dream, right? It can't be real. You can't be real." He mutters lazily, voice slurred and thick, wide hands flexing at his sides in two tense fists, the night wind mussing the moon-like strands of his hair. "I knew there was something out there all along, but this...you..." he shakes his head in denial before continuing, "nothing as completely perfect as you can be real."

Oh. The dusting of color on your cheeks deepens and you look away, uncomfortable with the stupid shiver in your belly at the human’s words. Why did he have to be so rudely blunt? You blink the salty sea water out of your eyes a few times before looking back up at him from beneath your lashes, feigning an indifference you don’t feel. Rude, definitely. But, gods, such a handsome rude. His sharp features are as delicate in some ways as they are rough in others. A man, undeniably. The lights from the ship illuminate his striking features, highlighting skin as smooth and pale as the sand on the clearest beach.

Except for one detail.

The flickering yellow of the artificial lights only intensifies the depth of a grotesque scar across that false eye. Your eyes narrow slightly, following the rough, jagged line of the cut that runs from the middle of his forehead down his cheekbone, ending just inches above the corner of his lip. A raw, deep cut, a wound that certainly caused him a lot of pain - perhaps it still does. A scar like that indicates a trauma that cannot be easily overcome after all.

Did he get it while he was behind the ocean's tear?

The thought inevitably brings you back to what was the trigger for this whole colossal mistake, making you quickly focus on the blue stone in his left eye while trying to ignore the discomfort of seeing such a comprehensive wound on this human.

"How..." You rasp, pushing the hoarseness out of your normally melodic timbre, even though your tongue feels uncomfortable inside your mouth and your throat scratches from being used after so much time in silence. The man looks at you with disturbing focus, however, his gaze lazy and bright, his lips slightly parted, as if he were listening to the most enchanting and pure sound of all. "How did you get that?" You point a finger at the stone when you manage to say the words, direct and honest, leaving no room for confusion.

He blinks once.

"Uh, this?" He extends two fingers to the stone in question, tapping its cool surface twice, a slight tug of amusement on his lips. “I found this a while back when diving near a reef. Shinier than anything I've ever seen.” He sounds almost proud as he drawls, though he shrugs at the end — as if the accomplishment isn’t all that big of a deal after all.

Your fascination with the human is eclipsed by the blinding wave of irritation and humiliation that rushes through your veins at the sudden words. What the hell does he mean, ‘found this a while back’? As if the fucking ocean's tear is something a stupid human could just stumble upon by accident? Near a reef, of all places! As if something so inexplicably valuable could be so easily discoverable?

Fuck, as if you didn't literally almost die because of that!

What were the gods doing to you, anyway? What kind of cruel joke was this? How much more would you have to be humiliated by this human before you finally snapped and killed him?

“Liar.” You hiss slowly through your dangerous teeth, refusing to believe this lame version of the story. Your eyes narrow and your nose furrows a fraction, along with your eyebrows. Beneath the surface of the water your tail jerks restlessly, creating a visible ripple in the waves around you. The human, to your silent satisfaction, seems to have some sense after all and notices that something has changed in you. His posture, once reverent and curious, is now more alert and cautious, though he doesn’t pull away immediately. His shoulders roll slowly beneath the shirt and his jaw tenses once before he extends his open hands to you in what should be a reassuring gesture.

"Hey, it's okay..." His voice is lower now, almost a whisper, and it's embarrassing how his calm tone has an effect on you, making you almost instantly relax your fingers clenched into tight fists that you barely noticed you were holding. He remains crouched for a few seconds, but shrugs his shoulders and arches his back a little, as if he wanted to make himself smaller for you. Less threatening. You almost burst out laughing at the sheer silliness of it.��

This human wouldn't be a threat to you even if he were at his full height - which you admittedly agree is well above any human you've ever met. Even watching from afar all these nights, it was clear to you that his size surpassed yours in almost every way. Your upper half, of course. He was wide and tall where you were seemingly delicate and fragile. Except for your tail. At its full length you would be much taller than him.

Yes, you may seem delicate overall, but that is just another deceptive hunting device, a feminine appeal that screams fragility and seduction, luring your prey until it is too late for them.

You are anything but weak, and no matter what, he is still human. His strength, as great as it may be, would still be nothing compared to yours. One move, right now, and he would be dead. If you really wanted this, it would be over before he even realized what had happened.

You could wrap your fingers around his ankle and pull him into the dark waters; it would take just the right amount of pressure and speed and he would hit his head on the deck as he fell, probably dying instantly from the blow. But even if he survived that, his end would come quickly beneath the cruel waves of the ocean. Whether from the inevitable loss of oxygen, or the absurd pressure as you pulled him under, or even from the deadly claws you would sink into the fragile flesh of his human body. Or even your fangs, long and sharp as needles as they slice into the pale softness of his throat, draining the life out of him as he gurgle and choke on blood and salt water.

There were at least ten ways you could kill this human right here and now, and you wouldn’t even have to think about it. It would be natural, you’ve done it before. If you wanted to, he’d already be dead.

But…

You don’t want to.

And that’s why you don’t laugh at his attempt to calm you down. You don’t laugh because it’s not funny. There’s no humor in the feeling of mourning in your chest for that instinctive, natural part that seems to have laid down and died inside you. There’s no hunger, no thirst, no desire to make him pay for humanity’s selfish, cruel acts. There’s no predator and prey tonight.

You blink away the sting of tears wanting to form, tense expression softening to something almost melancholic, fins flicking slowly beneath the water. By the seas, you wouldn't cry in front of this human. It would be the height of your humiliation.

"What I said is true, I swear." He continues his soothing murmur, slowly lowering his palms, looking straight into your eyes with such interest and focus that you feel as if it were just the two of you in the world. What a foolish thought. "I actually found the stone by accident. It was just a dive like any other, nothing special. And then it was there. So bright that even hidden under the sand I could see it perfectly." He smiles a little at the memory, reciting the facts calmly and carefully, obviously wanting to avoid angering you again. "It doesn't shine like it used to though, now it looks more like a dead flame or something. I don't think it belongs in the world outside the sea." A tired sigh escapes his lips at the end, his expression almost disappointed - even though he's trying for a reassuring smile.

You snort.

"Of course it isn't. But that's what you humans do, after all. Always taking what doesn't belong to you." You recite the words in a disapproving tone that doesn’t carry as much hate as it should. Not for him, at least.

He looks at you with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows, forearms resting on his knees as he thinks about what you just said.

“Yes. I suppose so.” He murmurs after what feels like a lifetime, exhaling through his nose.

There’s silence between the two of you after that, nothing but the waves crashing against the hull of the ship as he stands contemplatively looking at you, as if searching for answers in your face. He’s not embarrassed by it, nor does he even try to hide his obvious interest in you. It’s unsettling, to say the least, to have this human’s attention so completely on you. Flattering too, but you don’t think much of it.

You definitely don’t want to be the first one to look away, but you’re getting restless with the intense eye contact and the silence, your sharp nails rhythmically drumming on the metal of the plataform. The shiny dust on your cheeks and nose becomes more and more evident, and perhaps the Captain is finally connecting the dots because a small smile stretches his lips - a genuine smile this time, something light and sweet, but undeniably provocative.

"It's doesn't react to you!" You say abruptly, spitting out the first thing that came to mind just to break the tension of the silence between the two of you. But your tone is too shrill and loud not to be seen as suspicious, increasing the color and intensity of the shiny dots on your cheeks and shoulders. The captain raises his eyebrow in amused question, indicating that he hadn't understood. You sigh, swallowing your own embarrassment.

"The stone. It's a special jewel... very sensitive, intelligent even, you could say. It's extremely reactive, just not to everyone." He listens to you attentively and with a sharp gaze, almost making you stumble over your own words a few times. "It doesn't shine like it used to because you're human and the stone know it. The ocean's tear, as it's called, only reacts to...uh, well...sea creatures." You find yourself irritatingly unable to explicitly say what you are, even though it's more than obvious by now. Some kind of throbbing self-consciousness takes hold of your mind, the very real realization that he can and probably will come to the inevitable conclusion that you and he are creatures from different worlds tightens your vocal cords and stops you from continuing.

Good heavens, as if the disparity between the two of you wasn't already obvious enough. Why would you suddenly be worried about it?

“Creatures like you, I suppose.” He contemplates, ruining your earlier subtlety with his irritating honesty. A small, sullen pout forms on your lower lip at that, more glittering dust of color staining your cheeks.

This was getting beyond ridiculous.

“Here.” You sigh grudgingly, breaking eye contact to pull the blue pendant from your long necklace between your thumb and forefinger. The stone is, as you said, reactive and immediately comes to life under your touch, singing and vibrating in the most beautiful shade of blue; prisms of diamonds and sapphires, resplendent and pure. The Captain Targaryen has the decency to look positively delighted to see this — as he should — and you smile softly at his reaction, finding great satisfaction in his rosy cheeks and bright gaze.

And then he’s standing to walk towards you, but stops short when you narrow your eyes and tense.

"It's okay. It's okay. I just want to..." he points to the stone, and you look at it. Then at him. And at the stone. And back at him. "I just want to get a closer look. But it's okay, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

You're already uncomfortable, you want to scream. You've been uncomfortable for weeks now. He's seen you, talked to you, heard more words from you than you've said to any other human - more words than you've said to any species in a long time, including your own. None of it made you comfortable. And yet, here you were. It would be a stupid, reckless mistake, no doubt about it. But you've been nothing but stupid and reckless these past few days. It couldn't get any worse.

(Yes, it could.)

"It's okay." You mumble, relaxing the muscles in your body and softening your expression into what you hope is something more friendly, more inviting. "You can come closer."

"Yeah?" He asks and you just nod once, not wanting to repeat yourself.

It takes him a few seconds to continue, but eventually moves. The tops of his boots are quickly soaked as he lowers onto the platform, the salty water lapping in small waves at his ankles. Something in your stomach feels alive, you notice with apprehension as you hold his gaze, fluttering and growing colder with each step he takes towards you. A sort of instinct growing and taking over you, taking over the strings of your body as if you were just watching everything from the outside, without control.

Your arms seek better support on the deck and you push yourself up, sitting as best you can on the floor, your back against the edge of the vessel, most of your tail still floating under the water. It's an instinctive reaction, really, and you barely realize what you're doing before it's done. It's not comfortable, you realize immediately, but what's done is done and the human's dumbfounded look is worth the awkward position.

"I..." he begins uncertainly, crouching back down on his knees, this time right next to you, taking your permission to come closer very seriously.

His gaze inevitably drops to where your breasts are exposed, his chest rising and falling faster the longer he keeps his attention there. It's not an offensive behavior, although it still makes you self-conscious in a funny way. It's not his fault, really. They're just there, in front of him - without any of the fabric coverings that humans are used to wearing. It would be impossible not to notice. And, well, they're different. You know they're not the conventional breasts he's used to seeing, most likely. Unlike human breasts, your soft mounds are dotted with flexible, delicate scales in a prism of lavender and purple, with no nipples in sight. But they're still breasts, and he's still a man. So he stares, until he realizes he's still staring. His pale cheeks grow pinker and he quickly looks up at your face as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't.

A shy, yet somewhat mischievous smile stretches your lips despite your nerves.

"Fuck, this is insane." He scratches the back of his neck as he half laughs, half gasps, and for the first time, you find yourself agreeing wholeheartedly with this human. This is insane.

His reaction makes you relax a little, and soon you're holding the stone between your humiliatingly trembling fingers again and holding it out to him, as far as the necklace around your neck allow. He's closer to you than he's ever been, so close that you can smell the ghost of artificial mint tobacco on his breath. It's horrible. It's perfect.

The wind is more urgent now, whistling and howling and foaming water hitting the sides of the ship harder - as if the elements themselves are trying to warn you of the dangers of this approach.

You don't listen.

"It's...perfect." The captain whispers as he holds the stone, his long fingers inevitably brushing yours during the exchange, sending an electrifying, heated sensation through your entire body. He lowers his head to get a better look at the stone that gradually fades as it is held by his human hand, the vibrant and ethereal glow of blue fading to a darker shade. "Look at this, I guess I'm nothing special, hm?" He says this smiling, the stone still clutched in his fingers raised between your bodies, your faces close to each other. When he looks up at yours you are already looking at him, blinking with your large and expressive eyes.

Your own fingers raise, hesitant and curious, to the stone in his eye. You are slow with it, giving both him time to stop you if he wants to and yourself, but in the end neither of you reacts. The human just looks at your fingers before slowly shifting to your eyes once more, the night wind pushing a strands of silver between your faces until they touch your cheeks in a strangely intimate caress. When the tip of your two fingers touches the cool surface of the jewel it reacts immediately, drawing a sigh from both of you. The gem shines, warms under your touch, singing in vibrant and lively tones.

"I can feel -" The man murmurs almost breathlessly, blue eye wide open, dark pupil dilating like an endless black hole, searching your gaze as if you held all the answers he needs.

"What can you feel?" Your voice is no better than his, just as small and low. Your trembling fingers still on the jewel, feeling its vibration, listening reverently to the secret and silent song that it could only sing for you. The pure brightness reflects on your face, illuminating your features with a soft blue shade, enchanting the man in front of you as if you were an angelic image. A mythical and unattainable creature. A siren, in fact.

"I can feel...you." He confides with a reverent look, your own jewel still firmly gripped in his fingers, although inert and dark. The disparity should be frightening -; under your touch the gems shine and come to life, in his they wither and fall asleep. It should be just another indisputable proof in the already very high pile of evidence of how unnatural any involvement between you two would be.

But the collision is inevitable like the approaching storm.

He moves, leaning his body to kneel on the floor, soaking the fabric of his pants with the cold waves that partially cover this part of the deck. His tall, broad-shouldered body shadows yours, naturally trapping you against the side of the ship. Simultaneously you both release the grip your had on the jewels, as if you felt something had changed in the air. The pulsing muscle in your chest seems more intense and faster than ever as you looks at that stupid human, so close and so bold.

"What's your name?" He asks quietly, watching you so closely that you can barely focus on what was said, the question coming to you like an afterthought or a bruise that you only notice hours after it happened.

A name? Gods, how long has it been since you were called by your own name? How many decades has it been since someone cared enough to ask?

You whisper your name to him, confiding a part of yourself that was rarely spoken to anyone.

"..." he murmurs back, your own name sounding like the sunset over the ocean as it leaves his lips, beautiful and peaceful, yet breathtaking. You blink slowly, feeling as if inverse forces are at work in this moment. Feeling as if he has the gift of enchantment, unlike you. What is happening? "I am -"

"Captain Targaryen," you are quick to add, already accustomed to hearing his crew repeat his designation.

"Well, yes, that is usually what I am called..." he laughs softly, tilting his head an inch closer to you, meeting your gaze over the bridge of his nose. "But it is not my name."

Oh. Yes, of course. You know it.

He touches a damp strand of your hair, curious and gentle before letting the pad of his finger trace over the delicate curve of your nose, the outline of your eyebrows.

“Aemond,” the captain murmurs, and then presses the pad of his thumb against your lip, gently. You shiver, exhaling shakily at the touch. “My name is Aemond.”

Aemond.

The name rolls off your tongue and you repeat it, sweet as molasses, petal lips sliding against his thumb as you do so. He swallows with an almost mesmerizing movement of his Adam’s apple, heated gaze following the way his thumb presses against the soft fur of your bottom lip once more before he lets go of the touch. It’s almost disappointing to miss, but soon you realize he’s touching the bright freckles high on your cheeks and nose, one at a time, and then further to scratch along the shadows of color in your skin.

He’s close, almost sharing the same breath with you, so intensely interested in you that your heart catches in a slow burst of heat — of desire. An old feeling, hidden and locked away beneath layers of loneliness.

The gills on the sides of your neck itch and your throat starts to tighten from being out of the water for so long, a warning that you need to get back in soon. You know that.

You won’t.

Heart in your throat, you let him smooth your cheek with soft touches, thumb tracing the entire length of the curve of your jaw until it caresses the shape of your ear. His gaze is heavy on yours, mesmerized and fascinated, even though you haven’t used any of your gifts of enchantment. Not this time. Never with him.

“Beautiful.” He sings you an honest compliment and is so gentle, careful, hesitant even, as he pulls your face to his, and you feel the whisper of a nose slowly sliding against yours before thunder is heard in the distance. The sound isn't loud or clear enough to alert the human, but your sensitive ears are able to hear it perfectly and it's enough to snap you out of whatever spell you were trapped in.

He blinks rapidly with his one functional eye, the stone beside him now darkened to its previous shade of navy blue as you freeze and turn away from him, returning to the water with an abrupt and unkind movement. You keep your head above the surface however, staring at the heavy clouds forming more and more in the vastness above, feigning indifference to everything that has happened while your heart still thunders in your chest.

"A storm is coming." Is all you say, praying to any divine being that may exist that your expression is as serene and calm as you are trying to pretend.

The Captain - Aemond - is standing in the same position, looking at you with that stupid face, so confused and hesitant, as if trying to figure out what he had done wrong.

"Uh... I don't -"

He tried to reach out, tried to touch your hand as it floated above the waves, but you jerked away from him, sending him a narrowed, warning look, sharp fangs bared in a loud hiss.

“Don’t touch me.” You say, and your voice is venomous to him, for the first time. It hurts you to see the surprise on his face, the silent beginning of that realization that you could be a dangerous thing after all. You are.

It hurts, but you welcome the feeling. It is all your fault. If you hadn’t been so reckless, none of this would have happened. This human would meet his inevitable death at the claws of one of his sisters without the knowledge that you existed. Without you having experienced being in his presence, feeling his touch on your skin, having his attention entirely on you. It would be easier, for both of you.

Aemond Targaryen was every rule of survival that you ignored.

It was like one of those Greek tragedies that humans talked about so much.

The storm is approaching quickly and with it the end of this Captain and his sailors. The horde of sirens was aware of their presence, as it had been for days, just waiting for nature to intervene to create the perfect scenario for the attack. It would be reported later as a shipwreck, an unfortunate accident at sea that could easily be dismissed without suspicion. There was nothing you could do to stop it, even if you wanted to. And gods help you, you want to.

But you can’t save him.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

You stare at the dark cloud formation above once more, taking a deep breath to control the frightening wave of emotions that threatens to break your nerves.

“Why not?” he asks, sensing the warning in your voice, and you shake your head slightly, eyes filling with tears — tears you haven’t shed since you earned your Ocean's Tear. He calls your name and you still don’t respond. “Y/n, tell me why I shouldn’t be here.”

He presses, a little harder now, a little more concerned, and you should respond. You should warn him about the dangers that lurk in the depths of the ocean and the bloody future predestined for him and his sailors. He deserved that much at least, right? But then again, what good would that do? What good would there be in knowing about a tragedy he can't avoid?

"I'm so sorry." You sigh without looking at him, shoulders shaking with emotions that seem too big for your body to handle. "I'm really sorry..." your voice breaks and a tear runs down your cheek as you look up at him, the sparkling freckles on your cheeks highlighted and your brows furrowed in anguish.

"...What?" He's confused, of course, not understanding the whirlwind of events that followed your contact on the ship. He senses your anguish, your reluctance to tell him what needs to be said. And, gods, he looks so beautiful like this. Icy breeze blowing his silver locks in front of his face, his eye bright and his skin pale as moonlight. "Why are you crying? Please talk to me."

You slowly approach the edge of the deck again, where he's kneeling, still waiting for you. Your chest is tight and your hands are shaking, but you think you’ll tell him. You think you’ll tell him what you know will happen, even if you’re both powerless to fight the forces of fate. He looks at you, his calm and captain’s confidence taking over again, reassuring you. Your lips part to start to speak, but the sound of approaching footsteps sends a chill down both of your spines.

You hesitate for a second, staring at him with wide eyes. Aemond is also alert, allowing himself to look at you one more time before saying:

“Go, now! He can’t know about you!” He’s right. No human could know about you and still be alive. But here you were, staring at one you didn’t intend to kill. “Wait-” He keeps his voice low as he watches you prepare to go, though his tone is urgent. His gaze is pleading, not wanting to leave you but knowing he has to. “Come back tomorrow, please.”

You coo, a sad sound, wanting to tell him there wouldn’t be a tomorrow. Not for him, at least. But instead, you wrap your smaller hand around his, careful of your claws, leaving a gentle grip on his knuckles as you look up at him with teary eyes.

“Take care, Captain Targaryen.” That’s all you say before you dive into the dark expanse of the ocean, never looking back. You couldn’t. Not when you felt so helpless. The jewel hanging from your neck protests and burns your skin so much that it even tears a grunt of pain from your lips, but you don't stop swimming, powerful fins pushing you as deep into the ocean as you can go. Silently you curse the stupid thing for not giving any sign of life in all these years, but choosing this moment to show that it was there.

The final act of this tale of tragedy was herep and your human would meet his bitter end at the merciless claws of one of his sisters.

You can't save him.

You can't...

You...

You can?

(And why did you think of him as 'your human' now?)

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maybanksmusings · 2 months ago

Text

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!reader, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; there is now a taglist! to be added simply let me know down in the comments. enjoy part two!

part one.

as much as you’d grown fond of sarah in the couple of hours since your arrival, her friends made your skin crawl. topper, her boyfriend, with his dumb face and holier-than-thou attitude. you didn’t see what sarah could possibly find appealing, but it wasn’t your place to meddle.

for the duration of getting ready, all sarah did was talk about jj. more specifically, you and jj. she even offered to set you two up, but with sarahs standing with the pouges, it didn’t take a genius to figure out it's better to go solo.

sarahs cropped, off the shoulder sweater does little to shield you from the cool breeze sweeping across the beach. even stuffing your hands into the pockets of your shorts did very little.

you’d seen on tiktok, the most reliable source of information, that alcohol warmed people up which is why you were already on the fourth drink of the night.

nothing to do with finding the courage to talk to john b, that would be ridiculous.

you and sarah were sat on the opposite side of the beach to the pouges, the wooden log hurting your butt as it was used as a makeshift seat. through the flames of the bonfire you watch the pouges, laughing and drinking.

you’re looking at john b and can’t help spotting the similarities between you two, even down to small mannerisms you shared. you wondered if he had any idea about you, if your father had ever told him about you.

taking another swig, your gaze falls onto another pouge of interest. you’re surprised to see he’s already looking at you, nodding his head to gesture you over.

you smile, a genuine, excited smile. it’s too early for schoolgirl crushes, yet you can’t help it. the alcohol in your system doesn’t help it either.

you mumble a quick 'be right back' to sarah, sitting beside you engrossed in deep conversation with an unknown girl about selling sunsets' newest season. she glances at you over her shoulder, giving you a quick nod of acknowledgment and reminding you to be safe.

you head over to the pouges, a light jog across the beach brings you there faster but not fast enough. the reckless, and tipsy, part of your brain wants to get your intentions out in the open. you want to pull john b to the side and pour your drunken little heart out, and if it ended badly you could blame the alcohol.

but then you imagined yourself in his position, how you would feel if john b randomly showed up and dropped a bomb into your life unprovoked.

he looked so happy, like he was having the time of his life, and you couldn't bring yourself to ruin that. the least you could do was spare him the honour of hearing it from you when you were sober, without an audience.

"there she is," jj grins, not exactly slurring his words but you could tell he was buzzed at the very least "turn around, wanna get a good look at you."

with a playful eye roll, you give in to his request, twirling in a circle and laughing at the wolf whistle he lets out in response.

you're more than compliant when he reaches a hand towards you and pulls you closer, the same hand gripping your waist as he held you against his side.

admittedly, you're surprised when he doesn't make a move the second you're close enough. instead he holds on to you as he continues his conversation with pope, almost protectively, possessively.

"kie, back me up here," jj pleads, free hand being thrown up in the air in protest. the same girl from earlier, which you now know to be kie, throws her hands up in surrender.

"not my beef, i'm the neutral party in this war"

you can't help but laugh at the swiftness of her shutdown, your head resting comfortably against jj's shoulder as his thumb grazed back and forth against the skin beneath your sweater.

now, pope and kie are bickering back and forth, john b is flirting with what was commonly referred to as a 'touron' which leaves you and jj in your own little bubble, content and comfortable.

"so, what do you think of paradise so far?" jj asks, voice soft and a sarcastic emphasis on paradise "not too bad, huh?"

"it's growing on me," you grin, putting the sudden butterflies in your stomach down to having too much to drink "i've lived in worse places."

an eyebrow quirks, curiosity evident on jjs face, you can tell he wants to ask more, but for someone so forward he seems to be reluctant.

"don't exactly have the best track record when it comes to sticking in one place," you admit, as truthful as you can be without saying too much "kinda just bounce around."

"sounds expensive, you sure you ain't a kook?" jj teases, head tilted downward to bring you two face to face "'cause, i'm down with the whole being a sugar baby thing."

you laugh, loudly, head flung back, hair being blown in the wind as jj retains his grip on you, awestruck as he took you in for as long as he could. he wished he could freeze this moment and live in it forever, which made him want to squirm because he had just met you that day.

your bubble of euphoria is quickly burst, the beach erupting in roars as people grouped around the shore. a fight.

you roll your eyes, annoyed beyond explanation. you scan the crowd, trying to pick out any faces you could even somewhat recognise in an attempt to work out who was at the root of the fight.

much like this morning, you see that recognisable flash of blonde pushing through the crowds. your posture straightens, a weird feeling of protectiveness taking hold as her screams of toppers name rise above the chants of 'fight'.

you really did not like topper, so you weren't pushing through people for him, but for sarah.

"top! you're gonna kill him!"

and she wasn't wrong, as you drew closer to the scene you had a plain view of the scene that had the partygoers enthralled. topper holding someone under the water, obviously wanting whoever was under to not come back up.

it's only when you catch sight of who topper is trying to kill does your feet speed up, carrying you faster and faster towards the water. your brain struggling to come up with a plan as fast as you're moving.

you don't know how it happens, but you're on toppers back, your arm wrapped so tightly around his neck that you're starting to lose feeling. in some sort of femme fetal action movie, you would've taken him down.

but it wasn't a movie.

as if it was nothing, topper reaches behind himself and pulls you off him, ripping you straight into the ice-cold water.

"fuckin' pouge" he spits, hands wrapping around your throat as he forces you underwater this time. you claw and kick and squirm, but he's stronger. what feels like hours is only seconds, when you break the surface your hands are bloody and there's a gash across toppers face.

your reprieve is short-lived, only having come up in the first place because topper had recoiled in pain. you were far from a quitter, but this was a fight you knew you weren't coming out of. so when the water covered your face once more, you let it.

it was scarily peaceful, people's screams and shouts practically inaudible. falling asleep would be easy right about now, you could just drift off.

you would probably be better off.

your delusional tranquillity comes to an abrupt end when you, yet again, resurface. this time the party is well and truly over, people running in every direction.

you worried it was the cops, you really would have been better off if topper had finished the job if that was the case.

"hey, hey you good?" john b is holding your face as you cough up the water you inhaled. his voice is soft, gentle as he checks on you.

he was the big brother you grew up praying for, only he was none the wiser.

when you burst into tears it's put down to shock, and when you throw your arms around john b he doesn't question it, instead he helps you to your feet.

"come on kid, we got you."

when you wake you have no idea where you are, sun filters through flimsy curtains and you're dressed in clothes you definitely weren't wearing the night before.

before you have time to work yourself into a breakdown, a soft knock raps against the door. it opens before you can say a word.

john b gently closes the door behind him, sitting at the foot of the bed to give you as much space as possible "how are you feeling?"

"whose clothes are these?" you blurt out, desperately wanting to figure out how she got into this outfit and, more importantly, who put you into it.

as if he could read your mind, he explains "kie, kiara, had the supplies. got you changed out of your wet clothes, alone, scouts honour."

a sigh of relief bellows through your entire body, at least that was something.

"i gotta ask you something," john b starts, his tone shifting ever so slightly to one more serious "i went through everything in my head a dozen times but i can't work out why you did that?"

"did what?"

"saved my life." john b deadpans, looking you in the eye with an intensity that tells you you can't lie your way out of this one "you could have died."

without a word, you stand. you find your damp clothes tossed in a corner and pick them up. john b watches as you stuff your hands into your pockets, dread bubbling up as he tried to come up with what your reasoning could possibly be.

when you return, you sit beside him with your hands clasped around the cold metal you'd pulled from the pocket of your shorts.

"you have to hear me out." you being, hyperaware of how insane what you were about to tell him was "believe me, i know this is insane."

watching his reaction, you show him the compass your father had given you. up until recently, your mother had it tucked away safely in her room. you never met your father, you were told he died when you were a baby. but then you got a sweet sixteen card in the mail, and then there was no record of a deceased john routledge, and then, a week ago, his face is all over your television screen alongside a brother you never knew you had.

you pop the back off of the compass, revealing the hidden compartment not many people knew existed and taking a small, folded note from inside.

"hey, ducky. been a while since i wrote, you know what mom is like. listen, duck, we haven't been entirely honest with you, your mom and i. if you're okay with it, there's someone i'd like you to meet." you read out the note, voice shaky and hands trembling "he left an address at the bottom."

john b carefully takes the note from your hands, wiping away a stray tear thinking you hadn't seen it. he reads it, over and over "this is this address, my dads writing if he signed it dad that means.."

you nod, knowing whats racing through his head all too well "yeah" you sniffle, not exactly sure why you were crying.

"john b, you're my brother."

taglist!

@rainingcecilias

#jj maybank #maybanksmusings #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback x reader #jj maybank smut #jj obx #obx #outer banks #obx season 4 #obx4 #outer banks season 4 #outerbanks #obx cast #rafe obx #criminal minds #john b routledge #john b obx #john b outer banks

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i-heart-yellowstone · 2 months ago

Note

John Dutton with wife reader. Him being in such a mood that even his children start to tease him and her joining in. Anything at all. Fluff/suggestive. Up to you. Thanks!! :))

With prompts; "Are you really this happy 24/7?"

"Are you really this grumpy 24/7?"

"Are you really this happy 24/7?"

Tags [ @kmc1989 @tallrock35 @pear-1206

Exiting through the front door I joined my husband on the old wooden porch swing that overlooked the main part of the property we called our home. He moved one of his arms and laid it back down over my shoulder once I had taken my spot right by his side.

The sounds of nature were the only things we could hear for once. There weren't any of his adult kids running to complain about something or him having to rush off to fight someone who wanted to take the land from us.

I thought we could live in this peaceful moment forever- unfortunately that isn’t the case when it comes to Beth Dutton.

Her car quickly came down the gravel and dust driveway where she parked at the end of the steps. She slammed her car door walking up to the porch seeing me and her father sitting on the swing. “Are you really this happy 24/7?" She bluntly asked the two of us.

I began choking on the coffee I was drinking from one of the kitchen mugs, not expecting that to come from her mouth. “What! Why would you ask that?”

“Beth, I’m allowed to be happy with another woman.” Her father John remarked back at his only daughter.

His only daughter wasn’t exactly happy when he had brought me to the ranch a couple of times for our dates. And she especially wasn’t happy when we had gotten married a year later. I knew why though, it was because I wasn’t her mother. To her I was he step-mother.

We had done our best to be nice to one another but apparently she hadn’t fully accepted that her father could be happy with another woman just yet and we’ve been married for almost five years now.

Beth crossed her arms over her chest. “Come on, daddy. I mean you can’t really be happy all the time with her.”

“Beth!” John grumbled running a frustrated hand down his face.

I held my coffee mug in both hands, nudging my husband with my elbow in a joking manner. “Oh come on, John. You don’t have to fake being happy with me.”

“Y/n, I’m not faking it.” John shifted on his side of the porch swing so that he was directly facing me.

I tilted my head to the side knowing I could tease him for a little longer before he would figure out that I was entirely joking with the love of my life. “Are you sure? I mean I doubt I’m anything like Evelyn was in bed.”

“My mom popped out four kids in total. How many kids do you want to give birth to Y/n?” Beth asked, flipping her hair out of her eyes. “I’m going to get you someone better.”

John rolled his eyes, sitting his coffee mug down on the side table with frustration in his tone. “Beth, that's too far. Okay. I’m married to Y/n and you’re just going to have to accept it.”

“It’s going to happen, daddy.” She smirked in my direction.

Leaning back in the porch swing I almost couldn’t contain my laughter. “Oh god.”

“This whole man-to-man shit thing we got going is becoming a little ridiculous.” John shook his head wishing this would end.

His daughter spun on her heels walking up to the front door. “I’m on it.”

“Beth!”

She called back. “I got it.”

“Beth!” Her father shouted at her.

She shut the front door and hollering beforehand. “I’m totally on it!”

Once we were back alone together on the front porch I touched the side of his face making him look me in the eye. “Honey, I was just joking when I said I don’t enjoy being married to you.”

“But you said-“

I cut him chuckling lightly. “It was a lie, John. I was just trying to make your daughter happy. The only way I think she will like me is when she sees me start agreeing with her on some things.”

“Thank god.” He sighed heavily, slumping his shoulders in relief.

Resting one hand against the side of his face I felt him lean into my palm. “I can’t imagine being married to anyone else but you.”

“I didn’t realize that I was missing having a woman in my life until I saw your truck break down on the side of the road that morning.” He recalled causing a smile to grace my lips at the memory.

When I had gotten a flat tire on my truck right outside the Dutton fence line I thought I would have to call someone to tow me to a shop which would take hours until I saw a man around my age rode up to the fence on a horse wearing a white cowboy hat.

Leaning forward I kissed him slowly, moving my other hand behind his neck making the gentle kiss deeper until he broke it suggesting a common morning routine for us. “How do you feel about going for a ride?”

“Have you not met me? I would love nothing more.” Getting up from the swing I finished the last of my coffee, rushing towards the wooden stairs heading straight to the barn walking backward. Yelling with my hands cupped around my mouth. “Meet me at the barn. I’ll saddle the horses, just don’t forget my hat.”

John groaned getting to his feet, calling back. “You’re hat. I remember the white hat belonging to me when we met.”

“What’s mine is yours, honey!” I laughed with a cheerful grin.

He shook his head going to grab what we needed to ride our horses, truly treasuring the joy he felt once falling in love with you. “I love her. Let’s go to work.” It would take time for Beth to accept her father could be happy with someone else than her mother, but he wasn’t going to not live his life simply waiting for her approval.

#yellowstone #yellowstone tv show #yellowstone tv #john dutton #john dutton x reader #john dutton imagine #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone x reader #beth dutton #teasing #new wife #evelyn dutton #comments really appreciated #ask box is open for requests #kevin costner #kelly reilly

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lovelypham · 10 months ago

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ENHYPEN MAKNAE LINE

✎synopsis: ʬʬ In which enhypen's maknae line are forced to reveal their relationship with their idol s/o after rumors spread about the two of them

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

read under the cut!

KIM SUNOO

ʬʬ when you and sunoo were caught up in a dating rumour it was something neither of you were surprised of as you guys never brothered in hiding your relationship too much

ʬʬ and having debuted in the same year,as you were from STAYC and sunoo was from Enhypen you knew dating rumors were bound to happen at any given time

ʬʬ but the thing both of you didn't expect, was the lack of care from both of your respective companies as they decided to make both of you host a Music bank interview and MC together

ʬʬ when both you and sunoo took notice of the situation you will be in you guys quickly made a plan in order to avoid any excessive dating rumours, as the past rumors before had died down quickly as there was no actual evidence on the news

ʬʬ but.... things didn't go as planned and that was the script writers' fault, in which you and sunoo had to flirt with each other on screen

ʬʬ and while you and sunoo were known to be shy and reserved when it came to these interviews, you guys didn't seem to have an ounce of hesitation going through you

ʬʬ and that was evident through the way you both held eye contact while bluntly giving each other complements

ʬʬ viewers forgot about ATEEZ-which was the group you guys were interviewing-and instead paid attention to the way you guys were admiring eachother

ʬʬ you guys looked liked love birds in the way your eyes were glowing with stars as you watched the each other's reaction to the seemingly never ending compliments written on the cards you both held in your hands

ʬʬ when sunoo looked at you his face was glowing,and that wasn't due to the strong lighting that was on the stage, instead it was from the happiness he was feeling standing on stage with the love of his life

ʬʬ even though both you and sunoo got in trouble after the interview and were scolded by your managers for the way you carelessly read the scripts

ʬʬ you guys didn't feel any guilt for doing so, and you both felt alot better knowing that your relationship was not a secret anymore

ʬʬ and that was all thanks to the rumors that spread like flies after the interview ended which lead to the confirmation of these rumors surrounding you both

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

YANG JUNGWON

ʬʬ you having debuted in NMIXX meant that seeing jungwon was very rare and that was due to the different companies you guys are in in and also due to the fact that your guys' schedule never seemed to overlap

ʬʬ which left you and jungwon with another option in order to see eachother and that was secretive dates and outings

ʬʬ even though it was a hassle to go out since you guys had to dress up in the most anonymous clothing you could find in order to be unrecognizable

ʬʬ you guys still choose the rough path inorder to stay strong and see eachother with the ridiculously packed schedules you had

ʬʬ you always took notice of your surroundings and made sure there was no one that is trying to take pictures of your dates in a secreet manner

ʬʬ but all common sense seemed to vanish as jungwon took you out on a date to a nearby cafe a week before new year's eve

ʬʬ you guys even forgot to check for any suspicious looking cars like you did usually and instead you held jungwon's hand on the table while looking into his boba eyes that were shining brighter than the stars in the midnight sky

ʬʬ you were in the practice room on new year's eve, when your phone was blew up with texts from different contacts, especially your members and jungwon

ʬʬ you quickly opened up the messages app and clicked on jungwon's contact just to see a dispatch article on the news of you both dating

ʬʬ both you and jungwon panicked about the sudden unexpected news as none of your companies knew about you dating

ʬʬ you and jungwon were called in to a meeting in Be:lift lab inorder to clear the rumors spreading around

ʬʬ in which both of you quickly opened up on your secretive relationship and decided to tell them about it

ʬʬ let's just say that ENGENES and NSWERS were having a field day after the confirmation was released about the article regarding your relationship with eachother

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

NISHIMURA RIKI

ʬʬ you were an ex-iland contestant that sadly didn't have the chance of debuting with enhypen

ʬʬ during your time in iland you and Ni-ki bonded really well and that was due to your shared love for fashion and dancing

ʬʬ during your stay with Ni-ki you noticed the feeling you'd get when you talked to him

ʬʬ you'd feel the butterflies in your tummy once he'd tell you funny stories about his sisters and his life in Japan

ʬʬ you thought that it was one of those feelings that you'd feel for any person that you admired

ʬʬ but you quickly noticed it wasn't the case with Ni-ki and that was obvious to every other contestant except for you and him

ʬʬ when you got eliminated from the show the only thing you could think of was 'how can i leave Ni-ki when I've already caught feelings for him'

ʬʬ and during your last night there you confessed to Ni-ki and you were scared of rejection, but instead Ni-ki had engulfed you in a warm hug and made you promise him that you'd still talk to him even after you leave

ʬʬ and that was the exact scenario that played and you kept your promise up until you joined the show hosted by be:lift lab 'R U NEXT? '

ʬʬ and you were more than excited to show the world what kinda person you had become and how much you've progressed since I-land

ʬʬ but most importantly, you were here to see Ni-ki and see how much he'd grown up from the little boy you confessed to, to the man standing currently in front of you with a lovesick smile on his face

ʬʬ the first words he uttered were 'congratulations on your debut in ILLIT' to which you replied to with a shy thank you and a slight bow as he was your senior

ʬʬ he then took a hold of your waist and pulled you into him while resting his head on your shoulder while continuously whispering the words 'i miss you' over and over again

ʬʬ you pulled away and took his face in your hands to give him a peck on the lips that was enough for him to know that you missed him as well

ʬʬ the dating rumors didn't start until a Tiktok video was posted from an unknown account that showed you and Ni-ki dancing to your debut track 'magnetic'

ʬʬ and what made everything suspicious about the video and your relationship with one another was the fact that the video was shot in your dorm room and it also wasn't from your group's tiktok account, and the weirdest of them all that you ended the video with a hug and a kiss to seal it all

ʬʬ the video was deleted as quick as it was posted but fans still managed to save the video and take screenshots before bombarding your group's account with hate comments asking for your removal from the group

ʬʬ and all that whilst calling you names and harassing you for 'stealing' Niki right after your debut

ʬʬ be:lift quickly took action against those who left death threats and mean comments and posted a message on their official X account asking fans of both groups to calm down and shared that their artists were in a relationship since I-land days as they admired eachother and decided to give it a go

ʬʬ the hate quickly died down after netizens found out that you guys were an iconic couple and always wore matching outfits and recorded tiktoks together

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

I really hope you enjoyed this😗 don't forget to read the hyung line version of this, and also send in requests/asks,🌸💓

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ephemerensis · 5 months ago

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Lavender // Tim Drake x GN! Reader

part 1. this is part 2. i just took the LSAT (law school test) feeling floored and dejected right now i cannot lie! rly just ran through writing this 😖 not proofread im sry

—

When you came to, it was Red Robin at your bedside. His hands neatly folded beneath his head as he rested it on the side of the mattress. The way his back rose and fell, and the way he was still as you shifted around indicated he was asleep. You knew little of him, but enough to know that this was a rarity, to see him in his slumber. And it softened something in you, awakening a yearning to protect this peace for him.

Memories of the previous night ran through your head again, and from what you could collect you remembered that bludgeoning feeling that accompanied his little outburst. To think you were the source of his stress, and his being here amplified that. Tense even in sleep like a guard dog at your beck and call.

But he’d forget you soon enough.

If you were honest with yourself, you held a selfish desire for this arrangement to last as long as possible for all the wrong reasons. He was kind and dependable and witty; talking was easy and secretly fawning over him was even easier. This, of course, you knew was unsustainable. You’re a job. He’s a hero in a mask.

When all is good and done and you go your separate ways, he’d find something else to stress over. Although, you hoped it wouldn’t be so taxing. You weren’t happy to be a burden, but if you were his worst then the rest would be easy to bury when you were gone. Wishful thinking, there’s always bigger fish to fry. But worse was the thought that something else could make him as upset as this.

He looked so peaceful, face resting in his palms, features angelically frozen in place. A couple of stray strands dangled between the whites of his mask, brushing against his nose as a breeze trailed in from the open bedside window. You reached forward to push them back, but as soon as your fingers brushed his locks he stirred. Your eyes widened; pulling your hand back, out of embarrassment or something other— you weren’t sure, you pretended to be interested in the birds flying by outside as he’d picked his head up off the sheets.

“Y/N?” It was a wonder you mistook him for Tim the night before, the fatigue was likely to blame. What a ridiculous mistake. Where Tim sounded gentle and fleeting, like waves lapping at the shore, Red Robin was more grounded in his speech. They were uncannily similar in their own respects, but the difference was undeniable. When Tim spoke, it was like he coaxed you into listening, when Red Robin calls your name it’s like he pulls you to him.

You turned from the window to look at him, feigning as composed of an expression as you could, as if your hand wasn’t inches from his face a couple seconds ago.

He stood, stoically brushing himself off and straightening himself, “are you feeling alright? How’s your arm?”

That’s right. You’d been shot at. You glanced at your bandaged arm, neatly wrapped and tightly bound. It honestly wasn’t so bad, it was the tranquilizers that really hit you, and the worst of that effect was long over if your sudden alertness had anything to mean by it, “fine, I almost forgot about it.”

He shook his head, arms crossed, “I don’t know, you seemed pretty shaken yesterday.”

“Was not.”

“Sorry, who was screaming crying?” The ghost of a smile danced on his lips.

Your face burned red remembering your sorry state, “you said you wouldn’t show! How was I supposed to know?”

His lips curled up into a real smile with the twinge of something like guilt hidden underneath it. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but the fact that he was smiling was enough to ease your heart. “Told you I could get in anywhere.”

The serene expression on his face reminded you of Tim. In almost every sense they were different, but something in their mannerisms aligned as if the very fabric of their nature were cut from the same cloth and tailored by someone else’s hand. And although you’d only met him once, Tim struck you as someone you really wanted to know. He was magnetizing and more importantly, things with him felt like they were easy.

“Do you know if Tim Drake got out safely?”

Red Robin nodded, “he’s fine.”

“He hid me in the first place, you know,” you smiled to yourself, “and then he went back out for his brother or something. He seems like a really good person.”

He snorted and you swore if you could see his eyes he’d be rolling them, “he should’ve taken you outside to the police or left you with a guard at least.”

You furrowed your brows, “don’t be mean.”

“Just saying,” he mumbled. “They did book tickets for you to return, the Waynes.”

“I’m not going back, I told you that.”

“At least think it over.”

“I slept on it, I’m staying.” You cut him off before he could protest, “at least until the launch. And I meant what I said, you don’t have to watch me anymore. It’s not like I remember all the files I’d read, Gotham is safe, and I have my own people. I’ll just have to keep a… lower profile.”

“You meant what you said?” You couldn’t read his expression, the mask got in the way.

“Every word.” But the way he asked the question made you want to throw in a ‘mostly’ for insurance.

“So you really like Tim Drake?”

Your face burned, immediately crossing your arms in defense. That part of the conversation conveniently slipped your mind.“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“So you don’t like Tim.” The nerve he had to smirk at you left your jaw on the floor as you stumbled for a response. As if you’d admit it twice, you didn’t even know him that well.

“Stop bullying me,” you grumbled.

He just snorted, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t need to keep a low profile. As long as you’re here I’ll take care of you.”

You whipped your head to look at him. The last thing you needed was to be a burden to the infinitely charming, slightly annoying, masked stranger sitting in front of you.

“No way, I can handle—“

“I’ll take care of you,” he reiterated, in that frustratingly soft tone that made you forget everything else. Your resolve was by no means something weak, but you already had an inclination towards him, you knew this. And he was too tantalizing to deny, he must know this. It wasn’t fair, you had to fold.

“Thank you.”

Despite it all, you still exercised your caution. Unlike before, you were careful about announcing your whereabouts or even spending excessive time in public. He would do his job, but you would do your best to make it easier. And things were quieter, nothing happened.

A week after the altercation your schedules cleared enough for you to meet Tim for coffee. He’d reached out first but you brought up meeting, for business purposes of course. You’d arrived early, out of something like excitement or anticipation. And he was late.

“Hey, sorry traffic held me up.” Your heart sped up when you saw him walking towards the table, and you weren’t sure if it was your brain tricking you into thinking you liked him that much or if you were really that pathetic. His hair was messy in the way hair gets tousled when you change shirts, but it suited him more so than the polished, perfect look he’d worn the day of the gala.

“That’s okay,” you shook your head with as calm a smile as you could muster, “my schedule is open today. I’m not in a rush.”

He beamed at you, taking the opposite seat. “Right! What’d you order?” Tim nodded towards the cup in front of you.

“Oh, it’s—“

“Wait no let me guess.” He squinted at the cup before locking eyes with you. The cup itself wasn’t clear, but maybe he could get a sense for what it was based on the residue on the straw or something ridiculous like that. After a moment, it seemed he’d decided. He spoke with confidence, complete and certain, “a chai… dirty. Like four shots of espresso dirty, light ice, sugar free sweetener.”

And he was wrong. You burst out laughing, “What? No.”

His eyes had a tendency to smile before his lips did, you noticed. He was shocked for two seconds before laughing with you. “Was I close?”

“Not even, you order espresso with chai? Are you okay?” You scrunched your nose and shook your head just thinking about it. Not just espresso but four shots of it, he was something else.

“No, see, I’m more of a straight black coffee kind of guy.”

You had to laugh, making him stare at you with an amused confusion. First his archaic responses to emails and now this. He just looked young, but he was 40 and balding deep down inside, you knew it. “And you like reading Kafka and playing chess too?”

He tilted his head to the side in catlike curiosity, and the sunlight caught in his eyes the way it glimmers on the surface of the ocean. It wasn’t fair to compare him to a cat though, you’d supposed, he was a dog. Through and through. “How’d you know?”

When he’d gotten his coffee order (pitch black; you shuddered just thinking about it) and you’d both settled into the late morning, he suggested a walk around the city.

You were supposed to be playing things safe, sticking to quiet locations that Red Robin could clearly monitor you from. But truthfully, you hadn’t had time to see the city, nor did you want to turn down the most charming guide the place had to offer. So of course, you agreed. Red Robin was good at his job, this much would be fine.

“You know, I’m not so bad a dancer. I just hadn’t waltzed in a long time.” He’d taken you to a park in the heart of it all. It was huge, sprawling walk ways amongst rolling hills dotted with trees. Somewhere in it was a lake, he promised, so that’s where you were headed arm in arm.

“Right,”he scoffed, “I believe you.” You could’ve drowned in the sarcasm that dripped from his voice. If he wasn’t so chipper about it, you might’ve even been offended.

“It’s true!” You smacked his arm with a half hearted huff he had nerve to laugh at. After a breath, you started again, “I’ve been meaning to ask, what cologne do you wear?”

An emotion flickered across his face, going as a quickly as it came. If you’d blinked you’d have missed it, the briefest twitch of his left brow and the way his lips parted for a millisecond. Not that it meant anything to you, you could’ve imagined it, because he was back and beaming before you could push on.

“Why? Do you want it?” From seemingly nowhere, he pulled out a pocket sized atomizer and spritzed the wrist of his sweater. Tim linked his arm with yours again, before taking the cologne covered sleeve your shoulder and arm with it. The scent of that lavender vanilla washed over you again. In your head you thought they were Pavlov-ing you in some tag teamed manner. At first it was whatever, but now those gentle notes meant safety and comfort. It made you mellow. “Just hang around me more often, it’ll stick.”

“Red Robin wears the same one,” and there it was again. Except this time his face didn’t change, but you could feel the muscles the arm linked to yours tense briefly and his pace slowed by a millisecond. “I just thought it was a funny coincidence. I’ve never met anyone else that’s worn it, and I know my perfumes. You’re a fan right?”

“Oh no, not at all.” He said it too quickly and he knew it. It looked like his featured had frosted over, like a deer in headlights. Tim cleared his throat, glancing away awkwardly. “I prefer Red Hood,” he tacked on.

“Oh,” you frowned, maybe he was shy about it or maybe Red Robin yelled at him. He was displeased enough the other day. “You’re awfully similar, I think you’d get along. He’s a little meaner though. Well, not mean but like… closed off.”

“Yeah that guy sounds like he sucks,” he mumbled.

“Don’t say that.” It came out sterner than you’d intended or anticipated. You don’t know why the urge to defend your masked stalker arose so strongly within you, but you didn’t feel justified in anyone thinking anything less of him than what he was. Softening your tone, you tried again. “He cares a lot, and he tries really hard, and he’s good at what he does, and it makes a difference.”

He just stared at you. But not in a way you could decipher. He wasn’t annoyed or spiteful or anything. He just stared; mouth slightly agape and face unshakingly still.

Tim’s silence spurred on your embarrassment, maybe you’d spoken out of turn. You were suddenly very interested in the foliage, “hey, look at that… tree.”

“You’re right.” Relief flooded your body as he broke the tension, and moreso because he agreed with you. “Do you wanna go out sometime? With me?”

You slowed your steps to a halt. It came out a little out of the blue, but more importantly, “this isn’t a date?”

“I can do better than this for a first date.” And with that oh so gentle smile on his face, you were doomed to believe him.

Tim delivered, of course. He took you to a pottery house to paint your own plates and spin your own mugs; none of which were shaped very nicely by either of you, but he insisted they were gorgeous and… avant garde.

After you’d both wasted enough clay and everything was ready to be fired, he took you to a private garden with the most scenic blooms in Gotham. For a workaholic shut in, he knew an impressive amount of plant facts— at least enough to give you a guided tour of the place and tell you what each flower in the bouquet he picked for you meant.

Subsequently he’d prepared a picnic dinner under starry skies and a full moon, that he insisted he’d cooked himself. He was lying, but you wouldn’t find out until years after.

So saying yes to a second date was an easy answer. And to a third. A fourth.

Before you knew it, you were going steady, and the day of the product launch was soon approaching. You didn’t know what you’d do after. It’s not like you had everything on the files memorized, so if anyone kidnapped you for information, Gotham would be safe. But likely they’d try anyways and you couldn’t keep dragging Red Robin along on a string.

You’d grown fond of his presence though, telling him secrets or asking for advice about Timberly, and you were disappointed when he rejected your employment offer. Not that it surprised you, he had his own agenda. You weren’t scared of going long distance with Tim, he’d reassured you that the two of you could FaceTime during your 30 minute lunches and that he liked you, like really liked you. And you could believe anything out of his mouth these days. Moreso you were sad you’d miss him, well, them. One was your confidant and the other your lover; leaving felt disheartening.

“Tell me why you like me again,” you asked. You and Tim were bird watching at a local wildlife sanctuary. Even though it was a Saturday, the reserve was big (and unpopular) enough to be sparse. And the stillness of it all gave you enough room to hear yourself think and bask in the ambiance of being around him.

The truth was you didn’t know much. It was impressive how, with the lengths the two of you would talk, you learned nothing about him. Everything centered around you or the city or something other, and you couldn’t control it at all. He was enchantingly skilled at directing conversation.

“Because your eyes sparkle when you talk and your hair is shiny,” he answered.

You nudged his shoulder, making him lower the binoculars he was looking through from his eyes. “That’s not what you said last time.”

“I find new reasons every time I see you!” Handing the binoculars to you, he pointed in the distance at some vague tree. “Look there, I think it’s a blackbird.”

You peered through the lens and after some squinting to try and deliberate branches from feathers, you could see what he was talking about. “Tim that’s a crow.”

“No way,” he took the binoculars back to take another look. After a few seconds he shook his head solemnly, “it’s too small to be a crow. I’m so sorry, but you’re wrong.”

You gasped at the accusation, as if you could ever be wrong, “it’s too big to be a blackbird!” Looking for the bird again to confirm what you saw, you huffed, “its beak isn’t even—“

When you’d whipped around to tell him to look again he caught you off guard, just looking at you with the most serene smile you’d ever seen.

“Yellow,” you finished. “It’d be yellow if it was a blackbird.”

It was one of those where you couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or being genuine, although neither was every far off from the other, overlapping often like the ripples fish make in a pond. In this regard, he was uncannily like Red Robin; you couldn’t tell a thing he was thinking.

A faint whistling sound pierced through the air for a moment, so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for bird song. That moment was all it took for Tim’s expression to change, barking a command for you to duck before pulling you down by your arm anyway. The dull thunk that hit the tree you were leaning on seconds later told you why.

The red tail of a dart was stuck in the trunk where your neck was seconds before. You really couldn’t catch a break. Your head snapped towards the sound of rustling leaves in the direction the dart was fired from.

“Did anything hit you?” he whispered and you shook your head. Before you could think anything else your feet were moving on their own, trying to keep up with him as he weaved through the trees, dragging you along. The grip he had on your wrist burned and under different circumstances you’d have been impressed with his agility through the rough terrain, like a third grader admiring the fastest kid in school.

Despite his talents, you weren’t so graceful and you found yourself tumbling along. In your own way you were gifted with tripping on every root, rock, and stone that littered the ground. If it weren’t for the grip on your wrist you would’ve fallen and given up at the first rock that crossed your path.

He ushered you into a small bird watching cabin before letting you go and closing the door behind him. You gripped your knees trying to catch your breath as he peeked out the windows.

“Stay low, they can shoot through the windows.” You nodded, sliding to the floor with your back to the wall. Instead of sitting beside you, Tim headed straight towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To get help. You’ll be safe here,” he flashed you a reassuring smile. But before he could leave you caught his arm, shaking your head.

“Red Robin’s here, we’ll be okay. Just stay.” This you knew was true because he said he would be, and you didn’t need much more confirmation beyond that. The only thing that irked you about the whole situation was why he was so late, he’d prevented almost everything so far, but you were certain he was rushing over or taking care of it as you spoke.

To your surprise, Tim didn’t budge, looking you dead in the eye with one of those unreadable expressions again. He didn’t tear away from you or do anything intimidating, but it was in the mystery of his expression that you found yourself nervous.

“They’re not far behind. Let me go.” He spoke gently but poignantly, like goading a child. And while it was compelling, as he so often was, it didn’t make sense.

“No he’s here, it’s not safe outside!” It felt like you were begging. In all the time you’d spent together, you knew one thing for certain. Tim wasn’t stupid, and he definitely wasn’t irrational. This was something else, and he wasn’t being himself.

“Y/N.” In your head you ran through a hundred scenarios. Maybe he got hit by a dart and it made him delusional, or maybe he was a robot clone short circuting. But the plea in his voice when he called your name struck you in the same way an apology from the other night did.

He was still as you let go, reaching instead to cover his eyes with your hand. With just half his face in view, you wondered why you’d never seen it before.

“You’re him.” It was almost a whisper, you didn’t even know if he could hear it or not. But it dawned on you as all the coincidences and reconciliations aligned. All down to the cologne he wore.

“No.”He was firm, but his voice wavered. Maybe you imagined it, but nothing he could say now would change your mind. “I just want to get help.”

Gingerly, Tim pushed your hand down and you took a step back, reeling in the thought.

“You’re Red Robin.” In your own head you tried to disprove it, but it made sense. And you almost felt bad for knowing it because you never wanted to know his identity, that was always supposed to be his to keep.

“I’m a blackbird.”

“You’re a robin.”

But time wasn’t on his side. No one else was coming and the perpetrators were advancing. So without a final refute, he took a breath and reached for the door.

“I’ll be back.”

—

tags! @jedidiah1201 @a-taken-url @lara20aral @moonccakes

#tim drake fanfic #tim drake #tim drake x reader #batman #dc #red robin x reader #tim drake imagine #tim drake x gender neutral reader #tim drake fluff

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seresinhangmanjake · 1 year ago

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The One I Want: Part 3.5 - Jake POV

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Warnings: This chapter is written in first-person (warning you now so don't come for me later if it bothers you pretty please) Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Note: These Jake POV chapters are not necessary to read to understand or follow with the rest of the story!

Words: 1115 (i told ya it'd be shorter)

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake:

“If she doesn’t end up going for you, send her my way,” Javy whispers so only I can hear.

Turning sharply, I whack him upside the head. I tell myself it's mostly so Javy stops looking at you the way he is, but I know it’s also a way to release my frustration at realizing my brain is only the slightest bit faster than my instincts. My brain just barely held me back from instinctually snapping ‘mine’ the second you walked into the place and I saw the look on my friend’s face. But thankfully it did. Because you’re not mine. Not really. Not at all.

You don’t notice the smack, and Nat and Bradley have seen the same interaction enough to know it’s not genuine. Although, this time I can’t fully say that it isn’t. Their eyes find you and you blush under all four pairs; mine included, of course, since I can’t seem to manage to keep them off of you anyway. I don’t try anymore.

“H-Hi,” you say with a lick of nerves.

The look on your face screams ‘too much; too many people; too many eyes’, and I would instantly feel like an ass if it weren’t for the fact that when you agreed to meet them, you seemed happy about it. After a month and a half, you were finally willing to learn more about my life, integrate yourself into my world, and I wasn’t going to let the opportunity pass me by. But seeing you now, in the aftermath of putting my excitement above your anxiety, the guilt creeps up on me.

“It’s good to see you again,” Nat says, carefully wiping away the deer-in-headlights expression off your face. Your shoulders settle and, albeit tentatively, you smile. The same smile I thought I would’ve grown immune to by now, but no. It still kicks my heart into overdrive in a way no other has.

And that’s the problem. That’s the thing not allowing me to surrender in my efforts to open you up to me. I just want more; crave it; each day contemplate how I can coax new pieces of you to the surface.

There was a brief period in those first three days when I prayed that what I saw in you was merely a challenge. A beautiful woman who doesn’t want me is rare, as ridiculously vain as it is to say. But it’s the truth. I know the game of cat and mouse well. The playful back and forth that inevitably ends up with the woman in my bed. And damn, did I want to play. But what I had allowed myself to assume was a need to conquer grew into genuine interest. It grew so quickly, in such an all-consuming manner, that I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I still don’t.

Instead, I act on impulse, and that usually leaves me doing what I must, asking what I must, to get to know you. At times, successfully. Others, not so much. Never before has the phrase ‘one step forward, two steps back’ applied so heavily to my life.

You ease yourself into the kitchen and Javy takes it upon himself to give you his name and wrap you up in a hug; muscled arms irritatingly just barely bigger than mine squeezing you tight. It’s returned, though much less enthusiastically.

When his arms have been around you far too long for my liking, my fingers fist in the back of his shirt and tug until he releases you.

“I’m Bradley,” my final friend—potentially my new best friend if Javy keeps his shit up—offers with a wave.

“It’s nice to meet you all,” you reply.

I feel my lips curve all on their own at the rising confidence in your voice. You entered, took a moment to adjust to the room and the people occupying it, and then found your footing. A familiar adapt-to-survive skill I am slowly learning you possess.

My friends smile, then look at me. Which is fair, considering the silence filling the room is my fault. I told them not to ask you too many questions. Not to pry into your past. Not to be too curious about your plans while you’re in the area. I left them with nothing and nowhere to go.

“How was your morning,” I ask.

“Good actually. I got a job.”

I stand a little straighter. “You did?”

I know I'm coming off a little too eager at that information, but it’s the first indication you’ve given that says you intend to stick around for a while. So far, you’ve not made an effort to find friends, you haven’t bought yourself anything that can’t fit in a backpack, and, until now, hadn’t found a job. It was a developing pattern that kept me in a state of wondering if I’ll wake one morning to find you gone. But if you got yourself a job then that has to be a good sign of things to come.

You nod. “It’s not much. Just cashier at the gift shop across from the beach, but at least I’ll be able to start paying you for last month's rent.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You don’t have to pay me,” I say. Because it’s true. Having you around, knowing I come home to someone every day, is enough. And the reality of it is, I don’t need the money.

With a raised brow, Nat smirks, and I wonder if it’s too obvious. If I’m too obvious.

“I’m paying you, Jake,” you state with an edge of harshness that has ‘two steps back’ repeating in my brain. And before I can think to argue with you, you’ve muttered something about taking a shower and have disappeared into your room.

When I look back to the small group at the side, my brows dip in irritation. Nat is still smirking. Bradley is shaking his head. And Javy’s lips are pinched tight to hold in a laugh threatening to burst.

I sigh as I lean my weight against the countertop of the kitchen island. “What?”

“‘Oh, don’t worry. You don’t have to pay me,’” Bradley mocks in a voice much higher pitched than mine.

“You’re making fun of me for being nice?”

“No, No,” he corrects, glancing between Nat and Javy before once again meeting the glare in my eyes. “It’s just interesting. It was only two months ago that you were expecting Brit to pay rent and she had your dick inside of her a few times a week. She never even got a discount, but this chick lives here for nothing.”

A beat passes.

Then Javy’s laugh finally breaks free.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plus size!reader #tgm #tgm fic #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction

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luveline · 1 year ago

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Hello! Can I request cornflower blue with Aaron, where he's just really into chubby!reader and she's so sweet to him and acts kind of similar to bombshell!reader, but is surprised and ecstatic when she finally notices that he's been flirting back?

tysm♡

You walk into Hotch's office feeling pretty and ridiculous. You know you look cute today, hair done pristine, skin dewy, your outfit one that accentuates the slopes of you (and this is all without mentioning the frankly gorgeous pair of shoes you're wearing).

"Hello," you say. Something about Hotch makes you feel prettier. You couldn't put your finger on it, maybe it's the way he doesn't seem bemused at your flirting ('cos, oh, there's the flirty fat girl, how funny! like being sweet on people is weird when you do it). "How are you today, handsome?"

"I'm good," he says, with a real, authentic, sticker of approval smile. "How are you?"

"Better now I'm seeing you," you say, neatening the edges of your papers on his desk before offering them to a big hand.

"I could say the same thing," he murmurs, looking down at the papers you've passed him with that boss look about him. He has to check your paperwork before it's submitted, of course, and this batch is a little late, so that's probably why he's happy to see you.

"Charmer. Do you need my help with anything while I'm here? I'm free."

"You, free?" he says, still looking at the papers, one held above the pile, grabbing for a pen blindly. "In what world?"

"This one, if you can believe it! Hotch, you understand me like nobody else does." You put on a saccharine, movie star tone, silky and smooth as you sit in the slippery leather chair in front of his desk. Elbows on the desk, you place your chin in your hand and watch him correct things you've written with a dreamy expression that isn't even really fake.

You quite like turning Hotch's innocuous comments into flirtation, if only to see his smile, but today the smile seems different. Almost like he knows something you don't know. You press your pinky finger over your lips and try to work it out.

… Is Hotch flirting back? There's nothing to do but test it.

"How do you make paperwork look good?" you ask. And it's important to note that you mean what you say, even if your compliments are said in a teasing, sunny manner. "Is there anything you can't do?"

"Careful," he says, turning a page. Well, maybe he isn't flirting– "You might get something you aren't looking for."

Your heart is a bat out of hell, leaping from your chest. "I'm always looking for something as long as you're the one giving it, Hotch... I've been thinking I'd quite like a new moniker, if you're up to it."

He places the paperwork down into a tidy tray and leans back just a touch in his chair (what the fuck). "What would you have me call you?" he asks quietly.

"Any Sweetheart will do." Is this real? Is he really giving it back to you? "Puppy love, angel, valentine. You could take your pick."

"Why don't you choose one for me?"

You stand up from your chair and shake your head at him, fizzy energy with nowhere to go. "Handsome, you're in a mood. I'm going to do a lap, okay? Before I combust. Think you can get this," —you gesture to his chest in a big circle— "under wraps, or shall I start picking out colours for our engagement party invitations?" you ask.

Hotch laughs and opens one of his desk drawers. You consider the joking over, and while you're disappointed, you're not surprised. That is, until he says, "I like eggshell white over cream, but I'm sure you'll make the right decision, angel."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble #luveline's 40k party

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kazusrightmole · 5 months ago

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REPAYMENT

small note: if u feel like you’ve seen this oneshot somewhere before, the creator of that oneshot is me dw except i’m reposting this here on a new account sooo yeah!! byeee

KEISUKE let out a loud grumble after he noticed your current state. The happy grin on his face from a few minutes ago was now replaced with an irked frown. He was the only one left standing by the classroom door, as he leaned over by the classroom’s entrance while observing your actions with a scowl pasted to his face. It so happened to be the time when all the students had already gone home.

Your hair was all disheveled, with your locks sticking out all over the place. For god's sake, he could’ve mistaken you for a ghost if he didn’t know that you were going to stay in this classroom for a while. He was just on his way to pick you up after class to take you out to have fun, not to witness you studying your ass off just for some stupid tests!

Now don’t get him wrong, he admired and supported your dedication when it comes to getting good marks as he couldn’t even read the first few words without crying in frustration, but your boyfriend would not let this slide again! This was literally the ninth time this week that you forgot your date with him. A fucking date with Keisuke Baji himself.

You were occupied with answering some questions in your homework, not exactly noticing your boyfriend dangerously scowling from across the room, before you looked up from your homework and accidentally made eye contact with the bronze-eyed male. Upon noticing the scowl on his face, you found yourself paralyzed with fear—you were aware that you had a date scheduled with your boyfriend before, but it soon slipped away as you were distracted with stacks of homework to finish.

“...Look, Keisuke, I’m really sorry that I forgot our date was scheduled today, so please take this as an apolo—” With a guilty expression, you stood up from your book-filled desk and made your way towards the bronze-eyed male while reaching into your pocket for money to give to your ebony-haired boyfriend as an apology. You were ashamed that Baji had come all the way to your classroom to pick you up for a date, which you had forgotten yet again.

You were really looking forward to this date with Baji and had even made plans ahead of time before the two of you could decide where the date would be held. But just as you were about to leave the classroom to wait for your boyfriend by the school's gate, the next thing you knew, you were drowning in piles of homework and notes to review for your next exams.

“Tch, do you really think I’m someone who’s easily swayed with a big amount of cash? It’s great that you’re studying and all, but you gotta take a break once in a while, y’know!” Keisuke lightly chided, as he crossed his arms in a disapproving manner. However, the scowl painted on his face gradually softened afterwards once he noticed the genuine guilt written all over your face.

Baji then let out a defeated sigh after witnessing the downcast look on your face before chuckling dryly, while you could only stare at your boyfriend, perplexed by his reaction. You remained in your position as a couple of beads of sweat rolled down your temple, not quite understanding the strange reaction that came out of nowhere.

“Ok, fine, I'll take the good cash, but only if you come along!” Baji proudly huffed out, beaming with confidence, his proud grin remaining on his face whilst his sharp tooth was visible at the corner of his grin.

"Keisuke, you know how I’m busy..." you sighed exasperatedly at your boyfriend's ridiculous antics; you'd already learned your lesson when the two of you were almost caught by the cops with burning cars (specifically, Baji was the one burning the cars as you watched from the sidelines in a panic). So due to the previous events that occurred during your ‘dates’ with Baji, there would be no way you could ever fall for his antics again.

“Eh, knew you’d refuse, so I came up with a backup plan!” Before you could even comprehend the long-haired male's words, you soon found yourself being slung over by your boyfriend’s shoulder like a potato sack. He didn’t seem to have a hard time carrying you on his shoulder, thanks to your stunned figure. You were too taken aback by your boyfriend's actions that even someone with Baji’s knowledge could quickly take advantage of your stunned reaction to whisk you off your feet to take you somewhere more fun.

“What the?! B-Baji Keisuke! I demand you put me down this instant...!” After snapping out of the trance, you could only spin your head towards Baji to send a glare behind his head. You were aware that he couldn’t see your displeased look, but Baji could tell that your gaze was burning holes through the back of his head. Upon noticing that your boyfriend’s hold on you didn’t loosen, you could only try flailing your body against Baji’s secure hold to try and escape out of his grasp, upon noticing your boyfriend nearing the exit of the classroom.

“Heh, give it up now, it’s no use struggling [Name], especially when it’s the Baji Keisuke carrying you!” Baji boasted while proudly puffing his chest out, as if your flailing body against his secure grip was nothing more than a cat struggling to break free while threatening to intimidate him with its sharp nails. In this scenario, however, you were the cat trying to escape your boyfriend's clutches while your empty threats were the sharp nails threatening to intimidate him into halting his steps.

“Keisukeee!!!”

Alright fine, you admit that you had a fun time that day, but that still didn’t ease the number of hours your parents had spent scolding you about how ditching your studies to have fun would get you nowhere in life. But hey, at least you finally got to make up with Baji by spending some quality time with him as a form of “repayment,” or so he says.

TAG LIST; EMPTY SLOT

— MASTERLIST

#miriawrites—!#sendingloveforyou—!!#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #baji keisuke #baji keisuke x reader #baji keisuke x you #anime and manga #tokyo rev fluff #kazusrightmole

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dc418writes · 1 year ago

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✨Pairing✨: softdark!assassin!Curtis Everettxblack!reader

Summary🪄: the mysterious man in the corner booth is gonna make you wish you stayed home

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!!!, language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of adult happy fun times, allusion to reader being held against her will (so dubcon..?? Ish??? 🤷🏽‍♀️)

A/N🎤: hello☺️! This is my submission to the @secretswiftymarvelfan I Love You 3000 Writing Bonanza✨! Congrats again on 3000 followers👏🏾👏🏾!! I hope you - and everyone else who reads - like what I put together!

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

AU: assassin, Trope: one night only, Dialogue: “I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want”

Taking a deep breath, you stand smoothing your white tennis skirt down against your thighs before making your way to the ridiculously handsome man your friends pushed you into talking to.

“Girl take a chance for once!”

“I-I don’t want to bother him. Plus I’m sure he already has someone,” you replied nervously holding your hands in your lap. From your quick glances his way, he seemed unimpressed with everything - and potentially everyone - around. Content and enjoying his solace.

“Well you won’t know unless you ask,” your other friend countered in a sing-song manner fluttering her newest lash extensions.

Now here you were nearly to the corner booth in the dimmest part of the bar with your fruity cocktail in hand as your pink, strappy heels tapped against the floor. The stranger’s eyes locked with yours as he sips his own glass tumbler half filled with a brown liquid. How his tongue peeks out to collect the small droplets left, paired with the corner of his mouth tilting in the slightest smirk, leaves an involuntary flutter in your lower abdomen that carries down into your core.

Your cheeks - and overall body - warm as you finally reach your destination. “H-Hi.”

He gently bows his shaved head, “Hello.”

“Sorry to bother you. M-My friends and I made this pact to try new things this year and mine is to walk up to a guy I’m attracted to since I don’t really do that so here I am…”

“I’m not surprised.” You feel your mood fall at his words and embarrassment swell in your chest. How foolish of you to think you could do this? That you had an ounce of sex appeal or confidence like those other girls you saw easily able to grab any man they wanted. It’s exactly why you stayed to yourself. Your ultimate fear of rejection keeping you rooted in your seat or at home.

“O-Oh?,” is all you can muster feeling even more stupid that you didn’t even have a solid retort.

“As gorgeous as you are, I’m sure you always have men coming up to you. No need for you to do any work,” he explains making a shy smile spread along your glossy lips and relief soothe the uneasiness of your stomach. He extends his hand to the seat next to him motioning for you to join him, which you gladly take with a quiet “thank you.”

“Truthfully, it’s my friends that get all the attention. Guys usually just walk past me to get to them.”

“Nothing against your friends, but sounds like those boys were idiots,” he firmly states before taking a last pull of his drink to finish it. The tic in his jaw as if he’s bothered by those other men even though he doesn’t know them. As if he’s annoyed at just their mere mention. “Then again, should probably thank em for allowing us to meet huh?”

At that, you seem to lose your train of thought immediately letting your eyes fall to your lap again so giddy from his words. A brief silence falls over your table, but it’s not awkward or uncomfortable in the slightest. Finally peeking up again, his ocean eyes - and overall expression - turn a bit softer, which doesn’t help the butterflies erupting in what feels like your whole body.

“Shit, sweetheart you got me forgetting my manners. Curtis,” he introduces in a deep drawl that sends tingles up your spine. Holding his hand out, you notice intricate, black ink along the back of his hand and knuckles - in a design you can’t exactly make out - that looks to extend all the way up his arm covered by his black long sleeve shirt. You feel guilty for it, but you let your mind wander to how far it exactly goes. To his solid chest? His, probably, perfectly sculpted back maybe? Across his firm pecs and down to his abs you could visibly make out through his shirt?

The longer your mind imagined, the more that itch to find out grew stronger. And when you placed your hand in his - noting just how much larger it was than yours, not to mention stronger - you knew you were done for.

“Y/N.”

•

It’s pitch black when you finally awake to the quiet room. The side of your face pressed into the vanilla bourbon scented pillow below you - the same one Curtis had you drooling, moaning, and pleading in majority of the night.

The way he wrung your body exhausted pulling orgasms one after the other - you honestly couldn’t remember the exact number from your brain turning into mush after the second - you’d think he created you. Molded you with his own hands and knew just where he hid that special spot inside you. Then again, maybe it was just from you being..well..out of commission for some time.

Slightly lifting your head, you finally notice you’re lying by yourself in his king sized bed. The sheets pulled up to cover your back and keep you warm.

Additionally, just how quiet it is around you as if you’re the only one there period.

“C-Curtis?,” you hoarsely call out hoping he just journeyed to the kitchen or even another room for a call. Having a house so extravagant, clearly he had to do something highly important that took most of his time.

But you’re met with silence, causing the once tired smile along your lips to falter.

You thought he really liked you. That he would’ve wanted to see you again sometime and maybe grow into something more. “That’s why they call it one night stand,” you mumble to yourself feeling the crack in your heart spread bit by bit as you slide from under the warm covers to collect your things.

It seems like your stomach becomes queasy again with every piece of clothing you put on; making you study your earlier conversation trying to discover any missed signs or warnings. Of course you still didn’t see any, only making you feel foolish and ashamed all over again.

Heels clacking and echoing throughout the home, you’re too busy reserving an Uber on your phone to notice Curtis standing in front of the main door until you nearly run into him. A startled scream pushing from your lungs as one hand lands on your chest and the other drops your phone to the hardwood floor.

With his black top and black pants, he looked as if he’d been in combat having hand guns hanging from the harness strapped across his upper body. Black gloves covering his hands, and red dots splattered along his face match the dripping streaks on his top that are undoubtedly blood.

His expression, hard and stoic, causes an increase in your heart rate now nervous and confused as to what happened to his overall state let alone the change in his mood.

“What happened to you?,” you quietly ask.

“Nothing you need to worry about. And that’s also the first and last time you ask about my business, got it?” His harsher tone has you slightly flinching; taking a step back as you gently nod your head.

“I-I’m sorry..I didn’t mean-,”

“Pretty sure I left you asleep,” he retorts removing his gloves.

“I was looking for you a-and I saw you were gone,” you stammer wrapping your arms around yourself. “I thought-,”

“That this was over? Oh sweetheart you’re too cute.” His words should have you jumping for joy and excited, but his deep chuckle - more menacing than comforting - causes an unwelcome sinking in your gut.

One swift stride forward with his long legs, and Curtis catches your chin in his hand pressing his fingers into your cheeks hard enough to make your plump lips pout and a surprised whimper to leave your heaving chest. You had no choice but to face those blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place; only worsening your nerves.

“I’ll let you know now I’m hard to get rid of,” he whispers ghosting his lips over yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want. Who I want.”

You remain quiet - as if you could even try to fight - letting his grip loosen until his fingertips drag from the side of your neck to your collarbone making you shiver. Your body still somehow willing to give in to this man who surely was more dangerous than you could imagine.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna get out these clothes and you’re gonna help me clean up in the shower. I’ll put you back to sleep then order breakfast for us in the morning, where you’ll rightly apologize for trying to leave in whatever way I see fit until our food arrives. Understand button?”

You need to fight. Any logical person would scream and shout to the heavens punching and kicking past the point of exhaustion in this situation. Yet you were stuck. Partially from fear of not knowing what Curtis was truly capable of, and partially from your greedy core loving that idea. You could feel the light throb and arousal begin to leak from you making your thighs clinch.

Of course he notices too from the smug smirk on his lips. “Y-Yes,” you softly answer.

“Good girl.”

Who would’ve thought your first - well almost - one night stand would be your last?

#niamh loves you 3000 #curtis everett #curtis everett au #curtis everett x woc!reader #curtis everett x black!reader #curtis everett x reader #snowpiercer #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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imagines--galore · 3 months ago

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||Light ‘em Up|| Chapter Four

Summary: She saved Hiro from bullies and then punched Tadashi when she thought he was one too. She calls herself Hiro’s caretaker, and became Tadashi’s best friend. Now she attends the same Institute as Tadashi as a robotics student. She’s Sakura dubbed Cherry Blossom by Fred. She’s Hiro’s partner in crime, when it comes to annoying his brother and Tadashi’s best friend. Pairing: Tadashi Hamada x Sakura Kamiya(OC) Rating || Genres || Warnings: T. Romance. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Adventure Previously - Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three,

As Sakura led the brothers through the door and into the Swimming Pool area she began to feel nervous. Which was ridiculous considering she had never gotten nervous around them for as long as she knew them. Well beside a few moments with Tadashi, especially the time when -

Now was not the time to be thinking about IT!

She shook her head before coming to stand at the side of the pool. No matter what their ideas, and how mad they seemed, they would always pull through. Together. But this was the first time she had ever done a project by herself. She wasn't as brilliant as Hiro or Tadashi. If anybody had to ask her who she thought was the least smartest out of them she would say herself. Both Hiro and Tadashi were extraordinary at what they did, especially the younger boy, considering he had solved a few of her High School math problem she was struggling at, when he was just starting Middle School. She had stared at the boy for thirty seconds straight after he had done that.

Growing up wasn't easy for the 20 year old. And sometimes she would look back and wish for a few things. Wish that they wouldn't have happened. One big thing in particular. But then she would always think to herself that if it hadn't happened, than she wouldn't be where she was now nor would she be the person she was now. And even with all the problems she had to face, growing up, she was happy where she was and who she was.

"So you going for a swim Sakura?"

The black haired girl turned to look at younger boy, her hands resting at her hips as she shook her head.

"Not exactly Hiro." Pointing towards the bleachers, situated all around the pool, she smiled. "Go sit there. Both of you."

As the two boys took their seats in the very firs rows Sakura took a deep breath before crossing her arms across her chest and smiling nervously.

"So I know I've been rather vague about my project with you guys but its something that had to be done." She looked up to see the two brothers looking at her. Hiro with a slightly confused look on his face while Tadashi smiled at her in an encouraging manner. A small shy smile pulled at her lips as she continued.

"I wanted to do this project by myself because I wanted to make myself believe that I am capable of doing robotics on my own and also I-"

"W-wait! Wait Wait!"

The female was cut off when Hiro stood up from his seat his hands held up. Both adults looked at him

"This isn't because of what he said is it?"

A short laugh of disbelief escaped him.

"Cuz if it is then I'm gonna have to go give him a piece of my mind." The boy growled out, a scowl on his face as he started to walk towards the exit, his strides firm and determined for a 14 year old but was pulled back in a headlock by his older brother.

"Tadashi let go!" He grunted as he tried to pull away from his brother's grasp.

"Don't you think you've caused enough trouble tonight, kiddo?" His older brother said, his face showing no signs of trouble at the struggling boy. Hiro humphed before slumping back in place. Tadashi ruffled his hair, grinning, as Hiro pouted and crossed his arms across his chest. Sakura gave a small laugh as Hiro batted his brother's hand away. Walking over to the younger boy she crouched down to his level and shook her head.

"You don't have to worry about that Hiro!" She reassured him as she pushed some of his hair out of his face. Hiro looked at her still scowling. Sakura shook her head once before getting up and grinning, her eyes shining with excitement.

"Maybe this will cheer you up!"

The young scientist flipped at her left wrist where a small lid clicked open from the rash guard and a small hologram screen came up. Sakura turned to look at the two boys looking at her with different expressions on their faces. Tadashi's clearly read impressed while Hiro was staring at the hologram with his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. Smothering a giggle she quickly touched the pad of her right thumb lightly against the hologram. The Hologram beeped once before shutting down all by itself and going back inside her wrist. As soon as the lid clicked shut something began to happen to her suit. The lines going along the length of her suit started to glow a light blue. The light pulsated a bit in the beginning but then became steady and the young girl stood there with her suit glowing. Spinning around once, to give the boys a full view of her suit, she smiled.

"Well? What do you think?"

"This is so cool!" Hiro immediately leaped to his feet and began to look at the suit from every angle.

"How did you get the hologram? What kind of lights did you use in the suit exactly? Are they like made from the fluid in those glow in the dark sticks we played with? And is it even possible to sew it into a suit which is skin tight? Obviously its not impossible since you've done it!" Reaching up he took of the girl's head band. "And is your head band made from the same material as well and-

"Woah! Woah! Hiro slow down!" Tadashi laughed as he stood up. Sakura was pursing her lips to keep herself from laughing at the younger boy's excitement. A small laugh escaped her, nevertheless, as she grinned at Hiro, who continued to examine the headband, muttering scientific things under his breath.

"You look like a firefly Sakura!"

The girl turned to glare playfully at the older boy who shrugged lightly. Waving a hand in his direction, the girl flipped her hair at him before speaking, her voice adopting a more haughty tone.

"Oh please Tadashi! What do you know about fashion." Tadashi chuckled lightly under his breath as he took an almost involuntary step forward.

"Enough to know that I would look stupid walking around glowing." Sakura could feel the corner of her lips turning upwards in a smile as she looked at the older Hamada standing a few feet away from her.

"Please! This is the next big fashion breakthrough. Go with the Glow." She proclaimed. He smirked.

"And Wasabi's work bench is a mess."

Grinning the girl stuck her tongue out at him while he playfully rolled his eyes at her, the right corner of his lips tilted into a smile.

She really liked that smile of his.

Light brown eyes blinked.

"What?"

Oh crap!

She hadn't said that out loud had she?!

Violet eyes blinked meeting light brown.

"What?" She frowned, trying to make it as of she hadn't said anything, (had she even said anything? Best to act ignorant than anything.) She looked behind her to see Hiro still examining her head band, oblivious to the two adults. Tadashi was frowning at her when she turned to look at him. Suddenly he just shook his head, a sheepish smile on his face as he took of his hat.

"Nothing! I just thought you said something." He ran his hand through his hair once before placing his hat on top of them again, his smile still on his face.

His smile really was nice. (At least she hadn't said that out loud!)

Shaking her head to get rid of the sudden thought (where had it come from anyway?) she plucked her head band from Hiro, putting it on her head again. Placing her hands on Hiro's shoulders she guided him to stand next to his brother.

"Now, stand there!"

Hiro nodded once as he put his hands in the hoodie of his pockets. Tadashi imitated him by putting his hands in the pocket of his jeans. Rolling her eyes at the one of the many similarities the boys shared she took a couple of steps back. Her posture straight, her arms hanging loosely at her sides she took a deep breath before closing her eyes.

For a while it was silent, beside Sakura's deep breathing. Slowly the blue lines along her suit as well as the little circles began to glow faintly and then more brightly. The two brothers watched her as she slowly started to raise her arm at her side.

"Woah!"

The older girl opened her eyes, her arm raised at shoulder level, to see the two boys looking at the pool. Her eyes snapped there as well.

A huge grin split across her face, eyes shining with excitement as she tried her best not to yell out loud with joy.

Barely a few inches away from her hand was a small pillar of water, rising up from the pool.

She wiggled her fingers a bit and the water copied her movements the topmost part of the pillar moving along with her fingers. A small laugh escaped her as she twirled her finger and the water twirled with her. Her eyes snapped to look at the Hamada brothers who were staring at the pool their mouths slightly open. Suddenly smiling mischievously she flicked her hand in their direction. The water followed her movement as it flew through the air, splashing the brothers in the face, effectively snapping them out of their dazed state.

"Hey!"

Sakura laughed as the both spluttered and coughed. A small smile crept up onto Hiro's face before he voiced his thoughts the same time his brother did.

"How did you do that?!"

As the boys looked at her with identical faces of amazement she shook her head, smiling slightly.

She might as well call home and tell them she was going to be late tonight.

This was gonna be one hell of a interrogation.

Sakura grunted as she and Tadashi wheeled her giant chalkboard into the centre of her lab. As he pushed the giant board Tadashi grumbled.

"Why can't you just request a holographic board like all the other normal robotics students here?" He asked. Sakura heaved a breath as she gave the board a final push positioning it where she wanted to.

"Because, and I have told you this before, I like these boards." She answered as she grabbed a jar filled with different colored chalks and setting it on a small stool standing next to the chalkboard. Hiro hummed under his breath, his arms crossed across his chest, as he walked behind the giant board.

"And you also like to draw aliens that breath fire?" He asked before flipping the board to reveal a crudely drawn alien with fire coming out its mouth. Tadashi raised an eyebrow at the drawing.

"Fred been hanging out here?" He asked as he glanced at his friend, who shrugged as Hiro emerged from underneath the board and looked at the drawing as well.

"He was talking non-stop about some new comic he had gotten. It was starting to get a bit too much and a little bit annoying, considering I was trying to meditate. So I had to keep him busy, hence," She waved at the alien. "The drawing."

"Why were you meditating? Hiro asked as he turned to look at the older girl. The girl shrugged.

"Part of my project. Now go sit both of you!" As she flipped the board to get to the clean side the boys made themselves comfortable. Hiro sat on the toolbox he had been sitting on before, while Tadashi took Sakura's desk chair flipping it and sitting down, resting his arms on the back of the chair.

Sighing once the young scientist twisted a loose strand of hair between her fingers before clearing her throat and beginning.

"Well I found the idea for this project when I was reading this history book, where they were talking about how people could control the elements only through their Will Power." She walked forward as she talked picking up a book from her desk and holding it up to show the boys.

"I did a little digging and I found out that they were able to do that because of their High level of Conscious as well as the magnetic frequency of the Earth. In the book it said that how we think effects the magnetic frequency of the Earth, which then effects the object letting us control it." As she talked the young scientist walked towards the chalkboard, picking up a chalk along the way.

"So then I thought that if the Magnetic Frequency of the Earth are effected because of how we think and act why can't we control them through our brain?" Light tapping filled the silence of the lab as the girl wrote the key words on the board.

"And all I needed to control these Frequencies," Here she underlined the word. "Was one basic thing. And that was a high conscious level." She continued, drawing a circle around the word as she did. Glancing back to see the boys looking at her with expressions of confusion she nodded. "And I'll tell you why in a bit."

"Now to gain that level I started to meditate and doing the whole spiritual Buddha thingy as Gogo called it." She added rolling her eyes and giving a small smile.

"Anyway after two whole years of meditation, yes Hiro it took that long and let me tell you it was not easy at all, I was able to achieve a higher level of conscious than the average human being." A proud smile played across her lips as she dwelled on her little success for a few seconds before continuing.

"I once told you guys about the Third and Fourth Dimension." She said as she wrote the names on the board, not looking back. She turned around to look at the brothers.

"Did you manage to store it somewhere in those big brains of yours?" As both the boys nodded she grinned.

"Glad to see you paid attention in that little lecture of mine."

"Seemed more like entertainment to me." Tadashi muttered under his breath, causing his younger brother to snigger. Sakura's cheeks flushed at the comment.

"One time, Tadashi! One time I was more clumsier than usual!" She said her voice higher than usual as she quickly turned around and starting scribbling key words on the board.

Hiro piped up. "Actually that was the tenth ti-" He was cut off by a growl and a glare from the older girl's direction. The 14-year old gave a nervous laugh as he quickly squeaked out.

"You know what never mind." Sakura, smiled sweetly at him cast before casting one last glare at the older Hamada brother, who was still smirking, then turned back around.

"Now! As I told you both before the Fourth and the Third Dimensions exist together and yet they both have different magnetic frequencies," She pointed at the two words written on the board. "And we live in the third dimension." She made a couple of stick figures under the designated word. "Now humans with low level of consciousness, like you two knuckleheads, live in this place and can only connect with the magnetic frequency of this Dimension." She tapped the word 'Third Dimension' with her chalk.

"Of course I live here too," She continued circling a single stick figure. "But because my conscious level is higher than the average human I can feel and connect with the Magnetic Frequency of the Fourth Dimension."

"Now! The Fourth dimension is a place where the molecules, of everything, solid, liquid and gas are placed so far apart that a person's conscious can interact with them." She made tiny circles on the board placed a couple of inches away from each other.

"How you may ask. Well! The high level of consciousness is made of molecules that are placed further apart as well and because the molecules are of the same kind in the fourth as well as my brain the frequency they emit are the same and I can easily connect them." She turned to look at the completely baffled expressions on the boys faces. Grinning she continued.

"And keep in mind that the Fourth Dimension has a Higher Frequency than the Third Dimension." She made a short note in a corner of the board as she spoke.

Turning back around she clapped her hands in front of her. "Anyway! Long story short! I was able to get the frequency reading of the fourth dimension and program it into my head band. My brain can now, and any brain no matter what level of conscious they posses, with the help of the headband, pick up high level of frequencies, which automatically helps the brain to connect with the Magnetic Frequencies of the Fourth Dimension in the environment around a person. The lines along my suit emits a small amount of Magnetic Frequency that attracts the molecules of the object I want to manipulate like a magnet." A triumphant smile played across her lips as she concluded holding her arms out in a ta-da motion.

"Which then allowed me to move the water!"

The few second silence was broken by Tadashi standing up and applauding his friend. "Outstanding!" He grinned as Sakura shrugged her shoulders sheepishly.

"That was amazing!" Hiro exclaimed as he leapt to his feet, clapping as well. Sakura smiled happily as she sighed with relief. "Although I do have one question."

Hiro and Sakura both turned to look at Tadashi as he frowned in confusion.

"Why this invention though?"

Hiro looked at his brother in surprise, as he continued to look at his friend. Sakura's eyes flashed with sadness but she managed to wave her hand in a nonchalant manner.

"It just popped into my head is all!" She gave a short laugh. Tadashi looked at her an eyebrow raised as Hiro merely shrugged and grinned.

"Hey Sakura! Did I tell you that I'm gonna go for SFIT?" Violet eyes widened in surprise as they snapped to look at the younger boy.

"Oh My God! You didn't!"

Tadasho grinned in triumph as he stood up to stand next to his brother, ruffling his hair.

"Yup! I inspired him into joining us!"

Sakura smiled as she ran forward, pulling on both the boys, bringing Tadashi down to her height and pulling Hiro up slightly as she hugged them both.

"I'm so happy. We're all gonna be working together now!" She muttered as she hugged them both closer.

Tadashi chuckled as he hugged her back while Hiro merely rolled his eyes, but hugged the older girl back nonetheless.

"And for the record Tadashi it was my idea!"

The older boy pulled back. "But I was the one who put it into motion."

The girl gave him a dead-panned look as she stepped away from the brothers. "Who called you in the middle of the night to tell you the idea!" She said as she walked towards the door of the swimming pool, locking it.

Tadashi rolled his eyes as he walked towards the door of the lab with Hiro following after him, obviously enjoying the banter.

"Who lured him here?!" He quipped his hand on the handle.

"Who said that it would work?" Sakura shot back, swinging her bag over her head as she walked across the room, turning off the lights as she passed the switch.

Tadashi rolled his eyes as he held the door open for her. "Unbelievable!" He muttered.

"No you're unbelievable!" Sakura was quick to respond as she stepped out of the lab, turning to lock it.

Hiro sighed, smiling and rolling his eyes at the two college scientists.

"Sometimes I wander who's the adult around here." He laughed.

"Zip it, knucklehead!"

Hiro only laughed at the predictable answer he got from both the adults at the same time, before walking over to his brothers mopped.

As Sakura leaned in to check if she had locked her lab properly, Tadashi, who was standing right next to her, quickly took the time to say in a low voice.

"I'll talk to you later on the project." Sakura looked up surprise written across her face. Her friend smiled at her, his eyes shining with sympathy and understanding. Sakura's face morphed into one of sadness and thankfulness as she simply nodded.

"Thank you Tadashi!" The boy only smiled back at her, his hands in the pocket of his jeans while hers played with the strap of her bag. Slowly she smiled back, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.

————————-

How does he always manage to know whats wrong with me?

————————-

How does she always manage to help me out with a kid like Hiro?

————————-

Their little moment was broken when a loud voice called out.

"Come on guys! Lets go! You can make goo-goo eyes at each other later!"

That seemed to snap the two adults out of their trance as they both exclaimed.

"Zip it, knucklehead!"

Faint blushes were dusted across their cheeks and Tadashi's ears were turning red at the tips.

Hiro only shrugged as he sat on the mopped. "Well its true!"

He was rewarded by an overly large helmet being slammed onto his head.

"Hey!" He protested as he pushed the helmet out of his eyes only to have it pushed down again, this time by his brother. Tadashi started the mopped, his own helmet in place. Sakura strapped her helmet on, as she sat behind Hiro.

The younger boy grumbled under his breath as he straightened the helmet, sitting between the two cellege students.

"Bullies!"

He was rewarded with an elbow being shoved into his stomach, lightly, by his brother and a knock on the head, by the girl he considered his sister, knocking his helmet askew. Hiro grumbled curse words under his breath as he crossed his arms across his chest, slumping down on his seat, as Tadashi started down the path towards home.

#tadashi hamada x y/n #tadashi hamada x oc #tadashi x oc #tadashi hamada x reader #tadashi x reader #disney #big hero 6 #disney movie #disney world #walt disney #baymax #hiro #gogo #honey lemon #wasabi #fred

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taradactyls · 1 year ago

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You absolutely don’t have to do this, but I would love to know what the carriage ride was like on the way home after that dance <3

Oh I can write a little bit of fluff and pining!

Here's what happens after the dance scene in chapter sixteen...

~~~~~

It was a struggle for Mr Darcy to bother with civilities to anyone else for the rest of the evening. He kept finding excuses to touch Elizabeth, attempting to recover that spark when their hands pressed together as they twirled on the dance floor. Elizabeth had begun to show her tiredness, yet when he leant in to whisper in her ear “Should I summon the carriage?” She protested that she could wait a little longer.

He attended to whatever conversation his wife engaged in, loathe to leave her side. Elizabeth had always stunned him with her ease in socialising. There was no awkwardness in her manner, or struggle to know what to say. Even the most tedious of topics and… boisterous… of people gave her joy in their ridiculousness. Normally, he would retreat from such conversations entirely, for his tolerance was not as high as hers. But tonight, Mr Darcy was held in place by Elizabeth’s arch smile and quick dart of her eyes towards him whenever she needed to share her amusement at the folly of others.

His wife laughed so freely, how had he once not done justice to her beauty? She was the most radiant woman he had ever met. He was transfixed by the curve of her neck, and the way she arched her brow as she whispered some witty thing to her sister which earnt a smile from Miss Bennet. Then she returned her gaze to him and took his arm. “My mother begins to again complain of Charlotte becoming mistress of Longbourn one day; which seems as good a sign as any we should retire for the night.”

Moving her hand to the crook of his arm and covering it with his own, he said “I should think that the first sign was your yawning. And the second your proclamation of tiredness.”

She laughed again. “You are right, of course,” she smiled. “But have we not enjoyed ourselves tonight, Mr Darcy?”

The gentleman had never enjoyed a dance more, and he could not stop himself returning Elizabeth’s smile. She was so full of happiness. How he loved her. How he wished she had married him for affection and not necessity.

They gave their leave and departed Lucas Lodge. Mr Darcy handed his wife up into the curricle before joining her and taking the reins and urging the horses forward.

“I think it is safe to say we cannot continue any lessons in carriage direction, tonight,” Elizabeth said, surveying the moonless sky. “The landscape is far too obscured by darkness for me to attempt it. I shall leave it to the expert among us.”

“The roads are good, so there is no need to fear danger. I shall keep the horses at a moderate pace. Regardless,” Mr Darcy said, glancing at her, “At present, even were the moon full, I should judge you too tired to function at the best of your abilities.”

“That is true,” Elizabeth said, punctuated by a yawn. “I may have overexerted myself – but did we not enjoy ourselves tonight, Mr Darcy?” Her gentle smile up at him made colour rise to his cheeks, but the night protected him from it being noticed.

“We did,” he whispered, thinking of how they had drawn together and spun apart during the dance.

It appeared she was doing the same. “I shall have to force you to the floor more often.” Before he could reply that force was unnecessary, Elizabeth laughed. “I think Sir William will support my endeavours, he seemed to enjoy it just as much” That gentleman had naturally felt the urge to compliment them, after the music ended, and Elizabeth now launched into an imitation of him. “Capital dancing!” She said in a deep voice which had Mr Darcy smiling. “Some of the finest dancing I have ever seen! By my reckoning it would not put even St James’s to shame.”

“The highest compliment Sir William knows to give,” Mr Darcy replied. Despite enjoying absolute privacy in the dark countryside, he still leant in close to whisper “Do you think he mentioned the Court often enough?”

Elizabeth laughed, turning to him fully, their faces very close. “Oh, not at all,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper. “Why, by only mentioning St James’s thrice we are in great danger of misunderstanding which place he speaks of!”

Her smile and sparkling eyes were ample reward for his boldness in drawing so close to her unnecessarily. She seemed in no hurry to distance herself, either. As another yawn overtook Elizabeth she dropped her head to Mr Darcy’s shoulder, content to rest it there.

He felt it could not be comfortable – with the bouncing of the carriage – but if Elizabeth was not complaining than he would not move. The overwhelming emotion in his breast declared that he would be happy to never move again, if that was what it took for her to remain there forever. His agitation was his alone; when he slowed the carriage before Netherfield Elizabeth did not stir, and he gently roused her into wakefulness.

She blinked at him, slightly frowning, and he waited until she gained her bearings before helping her from the carriage. Mr Darcy maintained hold of her hand, looping it through his arm as the ascended the steps of Netherfield. They spoke little before he bid her goodnight before her bedroom – which he had promised never to enter – and left her with the waiting maid.

It took Mr Darcy an uncharacteristically long time to fall asleep as his thoughts dwelt on Elizabeth’s allure and joy as they danced, and the pleasant weight of her head upon his shoulder. He missed the warmth of her resting against him.

#fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #jane austen #pride and prejudice #elizabeth bennet #fitzwilliam darcy #elizabeth x darcy #darcy x elizabeth #mr darcy #trying to tread water #fic:t3w

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frostcorpsclub · 2 months ago

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Suzy’s birth sounds like it should have been a fairytale.

Xavier, Suzy’s father was a progressive man for his social circle and the time period. He was not at all threatened by his wife’s intimidating nature and permanent scowl, in fact. It was one of the things that attracted him to her. She in turn was attracted to his boyish charm and the fact he could snark it up with her. The two felt as if they were different, more in touch than the rest of their peers. It was just Xavier and Eloise against the world.

Two ridiculously rich parents who were truly in love with each other is a recipe for a happy and healthy childhood. The only issue is Suzy’s birth came along and fucked it all up.

One dream that Xavier had, however, was to be a father. He didn’t know if he’d be good at it but that didn’t really matter. Eloise was the one built for that kind of thing, right? He would have a lot of fun with his mini me. Whoever they turned out to be. These were not notions that his wife shared.

Eloise is a fundamentally cynical person. Ironically, she was a daddy’s girl as her future daughter would be, and her father taught her that giving in to your emotions will always lead you to ruin.

She wishes she had listened to him, but she didn’t.

Xavier always spoke so sweetly about his dreams for their family, he stroke her ego, even though Eloise herself knew very well that she would not be as good of a role model as he thought she would. Despite his soft hearted intentions, it was all together selfish, the most selfish being the fact that he looked forward to a sense of pride. That would come from making a family, more loving and stable than his own.

Eloise’s pregnancy was perfectly normal. She did not enjoy feeling hormonal and vulnerable, she enjoyed her cravings for seafood, she enjoyed the abundance of affection from her husband, she did not enjoy not fitting in her clothes.

Most of all she did not like thinking about the baby.

A baby shower is a social event like any other, an opportunity for networking and reputation. She was able to grin and bear through that, ignoring the assurances that she would have a new attitude once the baby came.

Maybe she would even smile!

This did not happen.

Eloise never had a mother to look up to, no way to try to try. Her mother died in childbirth but she heard many stories. A Scottish noble woman with fiery curls, hyper independent.

They say with her dying breath she cursed the bloodline of the man who infected her womb, and her life.

Eloise didn’t believe in such superstitions, and Muriel wasn’t a witch. Sometimes people just get very very unlucky.

5 whole years were spent with Xavier falling deeper in love with his life’s purpose.

If she was not the child’s mother she might have admired his dedication, but she was. She was the one burdened with knowledge and truth. The one who had to watch as Suzy developed in to someone who scared her.

From a young age Suzy did not play well with other kids. She pulled hair, threw things, screamed, bloody murder. Which are all very normal little kid things. The problem is that when she stopped doing these things, she started doing worse. She hit all her milestones in a timely manner, some early even, and it showed in the way that she mastered two faces. But most of the time her father took up the defense for her.

Those brutes in the hunting club treated their dogs so cruelly how could Suzy know better than what she had observed?

She’s a little girl, they have accidents, being held by you doesn’t make her bladder any bigger!

Who could believe that their little girl was the one who pushed the Livingston boy down the stairs, broke his neck, and understood implicitly that it.… well not that it was wrong but that the adults would be very upset if they found him. Who knew to hide him where it would look like an accident. Even if it was, boys play rough and he only needs the wheelchair a few months! That brute took the toy from a little girls hand and Suzy was still oh so upset on his behalf!

What kind of mother are you Eloise?

Suzette’s mother spent many nights when her husband was away crying in to her pillow. He left her with love notes and called her before she slept every night, but she still felt as though she was losing him.

Like she was losing herself.

She understood why it was so hard for him to believe her, she didn’t want any of this but she wanted to be able to turn a blind eye like he could. They had their fights but even when it would become a screaming match and Xavier would look at her like SHE was the monster, he would still get in bed that night and hold her tight.

He did justify her own actions to her as much as he justified their daughters.

And things with Suzy weren’t always hell. Even though Eloise was never warm to her daughter, even before it was clear that things were out of the ordinary.

When she didn’t leave her with a nanny or a teacher some activities Suzy would ruin out of boredom but others, for some reason or another, seemed to capture her attention.

They would go to museums together and look at the art, Eloise would speak to Suzy like she was grown-up and not in the usual way that was accusatory and resentful. Suzy would play in the children’s area calmly. She would happily show her mother the dresses that she would put on the dolls. When it was time to go, she nestled in her mother’s lap in the backseat of the car and fell blissfully asleep.

Eloise would stroke her hair the whole ride home, thinking about the fact that her usual behavior would soon continue, and there was only one common denominator.

Like any billionaire, Xavier inherited a good chunk of his fortune and the rest he made through the business he also inherited, further though he took advantage of the fact that the banks could get away with most anything.

It was no secret amongst their social circle, everyone does it, what’s the problem?

I won’t get in to the finer details as it’s not really important, but Eloise kind of did something good for once (all things considered as a rich person) and turned her husband in. Xavier is rich and powerful but Eloise, even as a woman in this time period, was moreso on account of her birth.

A scapegoat was needed, plus he was guilty. So Xavier ended up in prison from the time Suzy was 5 years old until she was a mother of 14. But that’s a story for another day.

#eloise schneeflocke #suzy snowflake #suzysnowflake #suzy frost #suzette schneeflocke #suzette frost #oc lore

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diabolikwriter · 2 years ago

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Nga yawne lu oer - chapter 3

Recom! Miles x Na’vi/Avatar! Fem! Reader – Chapter 3:

Warnings: Cussing, kidnapping.

Word Count: 1098

Chapter 3: Hostage

(y/n)’s POV

Your head was ringing when you slowly came to, and you were lying on something hard and Your head was ringing when you slowly came to, and you were laying on something hard and not the usual hammock nor the moss and grass covered ground of Pandoras jungle, and you squeezed your already closed eyes tighter because of the bright light surrounding you, but when you heard a swoosh sound, and the footsteps getting closer, your eyes flew opened, though when you tried to push yourself up with your hands, you fell forward and upon further inspection they were cuffed with orange cuffs, and then you recalled what happened… The avatars at the old battlefield, the children being held hostage, you crouching over Spider and then… Miles. You knew it had to be him. But he was dead. Right? You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you immediately responded with hissing and pushing yourself away.

“Woah calm down tiger!” You looked up and there he stood. Miles. Only bigger and bluer... but how? You had ended up pressed into a corner of a white room, with a big ‘mirror’, and you knew that you were in an interrogation room. You looked at Miles only to realize that he had kneeled down a bit further from you and held his arms out in a non-threatening behavior. You felt your ears twitch and you tilted your head in a curious manner, the only word you could say in that moment was:

“How?”

“How what? You need to be a bit more specific Darlin’.” Miles questioned his eyebrows was knitted in confusion, just like human Miles’s would do.

“How are you alive? How did you end up in this body?” You asked still not believing what you were seeing, here was your ex-fiancé, and the father of your child, but how?

“You see Darlin’, that’s a long and complicated story, but the short version is that I’m not exactly that man. I’m an avatar with his memories, or at least most of them. And I’m not the only one, but you already have seen that. The RDA saved our memories in case we didn’t make it out alive and they had of course also some DNA shit so that they could make these bodies but with the memories of some of the best soldiers, and the most experienced in Pandora and its deathly creatures.” Miles explained in what probably had been the longest sentence ever since he proposed to you. Or rather since human Miles proposed to you.

“They went through with it?” You asked confused, Grace had been so much against it when Parker had mentioned the idea.

“That is utterly ridiculous!” Yelled Grace.

“No it’s brilliant, we can have soldiers with the same physique and height and color as those savages, but in contradiction to your and your little Pandora loving friends, these will be soldiers, with no connection to the planet they will be much more efficient in convincing the savages in one way or another.” Parker was wildly gesturing with his hands, clearly excited about the idea of trigger-happy soldiers running around in Na’vi bodies, and Grace, yeah she was not that happy about it. You understood why Grace was so much against it given that the soldiers on the base weren’t here because they were curious about the planet and the creatures inhabiting it, no they were here for the money and to fulfill their duty in saving the Homo Sapiens from doom. So yeah conclusion is that giving those people an avatar body would probably not end good… at all.

“Darlin’ you’re spacing out again.”

“Don’t call me that.” You hissed, snapping out of the flashback.

“I’ve always called you Darlin’.” Stated Miles, and yeah, he had right from the start, but that was a long time ago.

“Just tell me what you want, and where I am.” You had an idea about why you where here and also were you where, but one can never know.

“Well for starters you are at Bridgehead the RDA’s new base, and you’re my hostage, kinda, at least for now.” Answered Miles, “Now how about you get up from the ground and come join me at the table.”

“Well at least the kids are safe.” You said, and stood up, but when you looked at Miles, his ears was pressed to his head, and his tail twitching nervously. “The kids are safe, right?”

When Miles didn’t answer, you felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach.

“You can’t bring kids into this, they are innocent!” You hissed, which you had been doing way to much these past minutes. “Please tell me you didn’t take the young one.”

“No, that thing managed to escape… but we’ve got Miles.”

“No…” You were filled with horror, why couldn’t they just have taken you, why did they need to bring your son into this, you could feel yourself starting to hyperventilate and there was this horrible pressure in your chest. “Please tell me your lying! Please not my son! He’s got absolutely nothing to do with this!”

“He’s got information about Sully.” Miles stated calmly.

“So what? You’ll torture the information out of your own son?” You retorted.

“He’s not my son. We’re not even the same species. I just have the memories of Human Colonel Miles Quaritch.” He sounded so horribly cold, and the dread you felt was replaced by cold rage.

“Take me to him.”

“No darlin’ I can’t do that.” Miles sounded so soothing, no Quaritch sounded so soothing. But this. This was not your ex-fiancé, and he just made it fucking clear that he did not hold a single emotion for a son, that he at the very least should have memories about.

“Do not call me that! You are not my Miles, so don’t you dare call me that nickname, Quaritch!” You hissed and ran towards the door, but Miles caught you around the waist and held you down on the table. “Let me go! I want MY son! I need to see him! He’s not safe with any of you, and I can only imagine what you assholes will do to him!” Quaritch wouldn’t let you go, no matter how much you scratched, bit and hissed, but suddenly you felt light-headed and started gasping for breath and you could see something like panic in Quaritch’s eyes.

“Fuck! Darlin’, (y/n), you gotta breathe through this mask.” Quaritch pressed a mask to your face, but before you managed to take a breath everything went black.

Taglist:

@ratchetprime211 @mechformers @iwishiwas-anita @iskamr @yumuramma

#miles quaritch #avatar #avatar x reader #avatar the way of water #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch imagine #recom miles quaritch

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windsweptinred · 2 years ago

Text

Metamorphosis

(Part Five)

Part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

(This was meant to be the final part. But once again the story got away from me and merrily frolicked off in its own direction. So one last part six to come! There's no bold text in this part. As everyone's an anthropomorphic personification and it would get absolutely ridiculous 😅)

Upon the highest peak of the Dreaming, curled in the arms and wings of Death. Dream of the Endless, white in both appearance and attire, painted in the iridescent light of her wings…Opened his eyes. Destiny turned his page. And omniverse let out a great breath.

As with all those taking their first, bleary look at life, his first sight was the loving smile of Death. Warm and wide and an immediate comfort. She swept an errant curl from his eye, gazing tenderly down at him. "Hey there."

Dream looked at her ponderously, his head a chaotic jumble of memories, all fighting for prominence. Gradually, like scattered jigsaw pieces, they slowly slotted into place. This was..? Heavy burden yet light of heart. This was arms always open, to embrace, to advise, to guide. This was kind smiles and strong reprimands. This was… Death… This was…

"Sister?"

Her eyes crinkled. "That's right baby brother."

He sat up, wincing as his arms protested at the act, making to stand. That was, until he noticed the fading, pearlescent tracks, marring his sister's cheeks. He brought pale fingers to her face and swept them away delicately.

"You have been crying?"

Death smiled endearingly at him. Capturing his hands in her own. "It is nothing, my brother. I am happy, very happy. I promise."

Slightly doubtful but having no reason to question the truth in his sister's words, he began to rise again, shocked when the movement caused every joint to sing with pain. His legs trembled unsteadily as he rose, threatening to buckle under his weight. And he would have tumbled if not for Death's strong hands reaching out to steady him. "Take it slowly. You've been through a lot."

Had he? He creased his brow in thought. Three memories flashed and overlapped. One a child, flaxen hair and beating mortal heart, scared and cradled in the arms of his protector. The smell of blood and the lick of flame. The other, a doomed man, clutching desperately at his lover, pelting rain and an overwhelming sense of despair. The third, a youth, barely aware of his surroundings. Body contorting with unbearable agony. Held securely by two sets of arms and…

Worry surged in his chest as he anxiously looked around them. "Where is Hob? Where is…"

"Do not panic, sweetest Dream, we are here."

Dream's and Death's heads snapped simultaneously towards a couple, stood but a few metres away, smiling serenely at them.

At first glance, they looked no different than they always had. Night decked in his usual black attire, his long coat once again hung about his sleek shoulders. Time, in a cream tee, slightly worn from regular use, green shirt that sat somewhat haphazardly and blue jeans frayed at the hems. As if he'd simply strolled by on his way to the weekly grocery shop. But that they were no longer as they had once been, that was unquestionable.

Below Time's feet, flora, fauna and all manner of herb and shrub sprouted, bloomed, then withered before beginning the process anew. His hair and skin shone vibrant and sun-kissed, then pale as if touched by winter's chill. A continually shifting of the seasons in a rudimentary display of what would one day become the phases of boy, man and elder. Past, present and future. Night's hair, still wild and untamed, hung longer now. Flowing and sweeping with a perpetual motion all its own. Minute stars twinkling their way down each lock, forming their own tiny cosmos. About his neck and wrists where his pale skin could be seen, galaxies occasionally flared then vanished in sparkling, teasing bursts.

Death's face lit like a second sun. "Oh brother!" She all but ran at Night, flinging herself without care into his arms. They embraced tightly, whispering soft words of reassurance to each other. Pulling apart, she then turned to Time, who opened his arms with an easy grin, but was met with a harsh smack to the chest in reply. "Hob! You utter… Urgh!" She punched him half heartedly in the shoulder, eliciting an amused chuckle from Time, before leaping into his embrace, both laughing jubilantly while Night beamed at them.

Dream stood where Death had left him. Smiling sweetly at their antics but unsure of his welcome in them. That was until Time, shining with elation, turned his full attention to him. Throwing an arm toward him in an open gesture of invitation.

Hands playing nervously with the long hems of his tunic, Dream walked timidly to meet them, greeting them with a demure smile. Time reached out, placing a fatherly hand on his shoulder.

"Dream! It's wonderful to see you up on your feet. We weren't half worried for you."

Dream dipped his head lightly in deference at the statement. "Thank you…"

He faltered, at a loss at how to properly address the being before him. He drew forth memories of a man, bright smiles and attentive eyes. Hob Gadling. Simultaneously was the recollection of a distant, imposing figure. Commanding obedience, dismissive of his children's distress and sorrows. Like the unfeeling turn of clock hands….Time.

… "Sir."

Time grimaced, "Don't go calling me sir. Even my students don't do that."

Dream's eyes flickered down, he'd misstepped already. "Then, how should I address you?" He asked tentatively.

A welcoming beam lit up Time's face and below Dream's feet, flowers blossomed lustrously "However you please! This one always did." He nodded towards Night. "Still does! I woke up this morning, gazed adoringly into his eyes and do you know what he called me? A sloth! A sloth of all things! Just as hairy, twice as clingy with the same big, perpetually satisfied grin he says. That's a fine welcome to the morning for your new husband isn't it?!"

Dream giggled despite himself at Time's rambling. An obvious attempt to ease his nerves. But a show of kindness he was most grateful for. From Time he hesitantly moved his gaze to the being, affectionately rolling his eyes at his side.

Night. The once Dream. He was him, knew every step he had taken, every choice he had made. Yet, he was not him. He was Daniel, once human, his own, with his own thoughts and fears. It was a singular feeling. To be the same and yet different, bound yet independent. Like a newborn, still attached to its mother by the umbilical cord.

Night looked at him, smile soft, eyes kind. Somewhere within Dream, the child Daniel, hurt and unsure, cried out desperately for his mother's reassuring love. Dream felt himself sway instinctively towards Night's tender essence, but stopped short immediately. Berating himself with an unspoken reproach.

"Dream?" He felt two hands gently grasp his arms. "Are you well?"

Dream straightened, though his body screamed in protest at the act. "I am."

The hands on his arms gave a gentle affirming squeeze and Dream tried, and failed to hold back the reactive flinch it caused. He watched as Night's mouth twitched downwards, eyes flicking about his form assessing, and he slumped his weight into his hold, bravado abandoned. "I feel a little weak." He admitted shly. "And I ache… somewhat."

Night's eyes dimmed a little, bright moons clouding in a dark haze of blues. "Your transformation was far cruller than it should have been." Night looked out towards the horizon in contemplation, before taking Dream's hand, tugging him encouragingly to follow. "Come." They walked the short distance together through Time's greenery that now flourished atop of the cliff. Night bringing them to a halt at the edge of the precipice. Tangled vines and flora tumbled forth from below their feet, trailing down the steep incline below like a verdant waterfall.

The Dreaming lay before them, rolling swathes of vivid colour intermingled with brutal slashes of scorched earth. Night turned to him, "Do you remember how to call dreams back to you?"

Dream nodded unsurley, looking at the ravaged landscape below. With such ruthless devastation ravaged upon the land, he had no wish for his first act as its monarch to be one of further, self-serving destruction.

Night gave him an understanding smile, hand raising from his grasp to rub reassuringly at his elbow. "To begin to heal your realm, you must first heal. But do not fret."

Turning his attention once again to the realm, Night took Dream's arm, gently guiding it to reach out before them, his hand laying supportively atop of his.

"We crafted a dream together, the night just past, when all was flux and flow. You and I, both Dream and both not Dream. You recall it?"

Dream nodded and Night pressed to his side, whispering, "Call it to you."

Dream reached out, following the siren song of times past and transformation. By his side, he felt Night's presence, wrapped about him like a great cloak. And then, there was the White Horse, or the remnants of it, half covered as it was with root and foliage. About it, a youthful meadow had sprouted and was already rooting itself deeply in the Dreaming.

He called out to it, requesting its aid. And heard the voices of thousands of revellers old and new toast his health from within. Slowly, bricks and wood turned once more to grain, and drew into the air towards him. The meadow remained, blossoming white poppies in its wake. Dream pictured a great horse of swirling sands, rearing proudly, then galloping at speed towards its master, plunging headlong into his chest.

Inhaling deeply, already feeling the replenishing energy of nourishment, hearth and good company surge through him, he gave Night a wide, unabashed smile, who returned it benevolently. "There now. Last and first born." Night said, "That is better, is it not?"

Almost drunk with vitality, Dream flung himself forward impulsively. Wrapping his arms about Night and snuggling into his breast bone. He heard a surprised, slight intake of breath, before two arms wove about him, pulling him in further. Dream was surrounded by the smell of an August's eve. Of air thick with heat and cooling sun-kissed soil the slight wisp of refreshing darkness. A chin rested atop of his head and he sighed contentedly. Child, safe and soothed in the beautiful universe that was his mothers arms.

They stayed that way for a while, breeze blowing gently against them, mingling locks of blackest night and whitest starlight. Merging them into an ethereal sliver halo. Until they heard an eager voice call out, "Duck, I think we have some guests waiting at the castle."

………..

They made their way casually towards the heart of the Dreaming. Death and Time chatting animatedly while Night trailed behind, fondly caressing each soaring tree, each stone carving, as if bidding a silent farewell to something dear and precious. Dream followed in his footsteps, re- acquainting and greeting in turn. The denizens of the Dreaming cried out with rapture at the sight of them. There was no proclivity for either. Old and new masters had been safely delivered back to them. And they drew to them like flowers, turning towards the sun's life giving rays.

"Boss!"

Both Night and Dream looked instantly to the skies at the call, watching as Matthew swooped, coming to an easy perch on Night's shoulder, nuzzling fiercely into his cheek. "You're alright! We thought you were a total goner there for a second!"

Night pet the raven's head tenderly, smoothing errant feathers that stood in disarray with distress. "I am fine Matthew. More than in fact."

Matthew's panic, now seemingly mollified, gave way to evident mortification at his actions. He cleared his throat, ruffled his wings and put some distance between himself and Night's head. Attempting a more distinguished pose on the extremity of his shoulder. Only then did he appear to take in the changes to his master. Little head twitching too and fro in curiosity.

"What's with the glow up?"

"I am now the embodiment of Night and Space my raven." Night answered calmly.

Matthew cocked his head, considering for a pause before giving what was most definitely an avian version of a shrug. "You know, I'm not even surprised anymore." Finally, he turned his attention towards Dream. "Who's the kid?"

Night gave the raven a questioning look, before taking him on wrist. Moving him out, presenting him to the young man. "I think you know truly Matthew. But allow me to introduce you to your new charge. This is the Prince of Stories, King of Nightmares, Lord of Dreams, the Oneiromancer, Master of the Sleeping Marches. Monarch of the Dreaming. Dream of the Endless."

Matthew swung his head in abject confusion from Night to Dream. Night noticed Dream's lithe fingers twitching in barely concealed eagerness to reach out to the raven. But he maintained his composure admirably.

"Dream, I am sure you remember Matthew, he is hard to forget."

Dream smiled brightly before bowing his head politely to Matthew. "It is a pleasure to remeet you Matthew."

If Matthew found the wording odd, he did not show it. He looked once more at Dream, before turning on his claws to face Night. "So… Let me get this right. You're your mum and he's you."

Night inclined his head. "In a manner, yes that is correct."

He heard Matthew mumble something under his breath that sounded very much like 'Targaryen level shit' and chose to ignore it.

The raven turned reluctantly once more to peer at Dream. Night felt his talons tighten about his forearm.

Dream, who's sunny demeanour was now wilting a little, a touch of dejection in green eyes, reached into the pocket of his tunic. From it, he pulled what appeared to be a chocolate covered peanut. Offering it to Matthew hopefully. Matthew considered for a moment before edging forward, taking it carefully from his grasp before devouring it enthusiastically. After the third helping, he opened his wings and flew the short distance to Dream's forearm. Allowing a clearly delighted Dream to stroke down his back.

" Got any fries kid?"

"Matthew!" Night reprimanded. Matthew gave an unconcerned shake of his feathers. Acting in complete ignorance of Night's words, looking still to Dream expectantly.

"You must not overindulgence him." Night warned Dream, "He is impertinent at the best of times. Do not encourage him further."

Dream gave a sombre nod in understanding. Before reaching into his pocket and drawing forth a soggy excuse for a fry, drowned in salt. Offering it to Matthew who wolfed it down with abandon.

Night looked to the skies despairingly." Go extend your greetings to the new Time you troublesome little creature."

Matthew looked from Night to the man walking just ahead. "Hob's what now?!"

…….

As they crossed the great bridge that lay before the castle gates, Night took a moment to savour the sight. Home, his home. He placed a hand on the stonework, desperately wishing to feel the thrumming pulse of his once realm against his palm. But the bridge was just a bridge, as malleable to him as any dreamer.. But no longer a part of him. Home no longer. He felt Time embrace him from behind and leant into his warm support. "It's alright sweetheart." Time whispered. "I have built you a home once before with my own hands. I will build you another. Anywhere, anyway you desire it." Night placed a hand atop of Time's where it held his waist. How did I exist so long without you by my side? He wondered.

He watched as Dream approached the formidable gates. The great stone guardians bowing in unison at his presence. For a moment he dithered, looking to Night questioningly. Night broke from Time's arms with a fleeting kiss before joining him at his side.

"Go ahead." He prompted, "They will not let us enter without your permission." And oh the bittersweet irony in that.

Dream looked unsure for a moment, before he placed a palm against the vast doors and pushed. They let out a great creak before swinging forth at their masters command. And there, waiting for them in the great entrance hall, was Lucienne.

She made an immediate start toward Night, joy and relief flooding her features, before her sense of proprietary reasserted itself. Halting subtlety and walking instead towards Dream, a courteous expression on her face as she bowed respectfully.

"My Lord. It is an honour to welcome you home."

Dream smiled graciously, before turning to look briefly at Night, then back to his Librarian. He gave her a compassionate smile, before gracefully stepping aside, "It is alright Lucienne, I understand."

Lucienne's face shone with gratitude, "Thank you sir." She said with palpable warmth, nodding her head once more in deference, before striding quickly towards Night.

Night reached out to her, their hands immediately joining as they smiled with open affection at each other. "Oh sir, we were all so worried! We thought…" Tears formed at her eyes and Night rubbed at her hands soothingly. "Dry your eyes Lucienne." He said softly. "All is well now."

Pulling her hands from his grip, she dabbed gentiley at her eyes. Then returned her attention to him, a look of immense pride and wonderment on her face.

"You are resplendent sir"

It was Night now, who felt the well of tears in his eyes. He smiled, a great love and gratefulness bursting within him. "Lucienne." He whispered reverently. What shall I do without you?

"Lucienne" a soft voice parroted. And they watched as Dream approached them indecisively. Eyes cast down, before they rose in stark determination.

"I…If it is your wish to stay by Night's side. You may do so with my blessing. Though…I admit, I shall miss you."

Night looked upon him adoringly, Oh, sweet child. Before meeting Lucienne's gaze, sharing a knowing look. She pulled from his grasp, giving Dream her full attention. Admiration for the new Prince of stories clearly evident.

"My lord, I am the Librarian of the Dreaming and the very first Raven of Dream of the Endless. It has been my right, duty and pleasure to serve as his protector, companion and sometimes, to my great honour, council. I have never shirked from that, nor do I ever intend to. My place is now, and will forever be by your side."

Dream blossomed in relief as apprehension fell from him like a shroud. A beautiful smile gracing his face, slight wetness at his eyes making them shine exquisitely.

"I would ask," Night interjected," For permission to visit from time to time." He looked from Lucienne to Matthew, still perched loyally on Dream's arm. "There are many I will miss dearly."

Dream shook his head emphatically. "You need never ask permission. This is your realm!"

Night smiled fondly at his words. "It is imperative I ask your permission." He pressed, before standing to full height, demeanour, kindly yet serious. "For this is your realm now Dream of the Endless."

Dream nodded soberly at the significance of his words. Then with an expression warm and earnest, said "You will always be welcome in the Dreaming, Night."

……….

"Dream!"

A vexed shout rang through the air and Night felt the all too familiar presence of his once masterpiece, marching his way towards them. Pulsating ominously with fury and intent. He spun on his heel, ready to confront whatever vicious tantrum the nightmare was readying to unleash. He was however, left watching, highly bemused, as the Corinthian stomped straight past him, casting a cursory, defiant look his way. Before striding purposefully up to Dream, declaring with vehemence, "I snapped that trickster's neck!"

Dream smiled sweetly, as if he had just been presented with a neatly bowed gift of posies. "You need not have."

Night noticed Time send him a discreet smirk from behind them and rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. The weighty knowledge of existence immemorial had done little to quell his lover's bawdy humour it seemed. He cast a smouldering leer back Time's way. Heartened with the wink and the shift of Times locks to a flaming shade red it prompted.

"I'll snap it every night hence. I'll hunt him dusk till dawn so he dares not close his eyes in rest. I'll drag every organ from him as he screams and begs and lay them at your feet in offering. He'll have no respite in waking or dreaming from his torments!"

Dream looked utterly charmed. "You need not. Your defence of me is most admirable, my Corinthian and I cherish it." A hint of something dark and spectral washed over Dream, then was gone. "But I am more than capable of enacting my own retribution now. Though perhaps …" He sent the nightmare a coy look. "You might join me?"

Night smirked to himself. There you are, little Nightmare. The Corinthian grinned at his master. Smirk sharp as knives, practically pulsating with bloodlust. His teeth gnashing eagerly at the promise of a shared hunt.

Night considered the pair. The Corinthian's quick dismissal of him in favour of his successor had, he could admit, stung somewhat. But as he watched them, he understood. He took note of Dream's instant attentiveness to the Corinthian's attempts to please. The ease with which Dream's composure softened as he leaned into the nightmares solid support. There was a trust between them that had long been absent in the relationship between maker and creation. Their shared adventures had already forged a new bond it seemed. Good.

And yet, as Dream shifted his focus briefly to address Matthew, Night noticed the Corinthian turn, body angled slightly towards him. The nightmare sent him a devilish grin, before giving a lazy, two fingered salute in his direction. Then he spun back, fully preoccupied once again with his young Lord. Night grinned to himself. Goodbye my nightmare. Be good for your master. He pondered for a moment before amending, Be the least bad you can be.

He looked upon them one last time. New Dream, radiant and hopeful, Matthew perched on his arm, loyal and brave. Lucienne, wise and steadfast to his right. The Corinthian, zealous and diligent to his left.

He need not worry. He was leaving the Dreaming in the best of hands.

"Guys?"

All turned to Death, who stood half way up a grand staircase to their right, leaning casually against the ornate railings. She nodded her head encouragingly towards an open doorway above, soft firelight and the mumble of conversation spilling out.

" …They're waiting."

Art by the absolutely amazing @ibrithir-was-here of Night!Morpheus and Dream!Daniel

(Next up we meet the Endless. And I'm finally finished! Huzzah!!)

#dreamling #hob x dream #hob x morpheus #dream of the endless #hob gadling #daniel hall #daniel!dream #death of the endless #lucienne #the corinthian #matthew the raven #the sandman #tumblr fic

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