#yas queen give us nothing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

merakiui · 9 months ago

Text

タコの花嫁。

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.

If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.

And your ancestors intended to claim it.

Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.

“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”

“You ever go and spy one up close?”

“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”

“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”

“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”

Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”

Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.

On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.

It was different in the sea.

Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.

On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.

“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”

No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.

A day of life, not death.

It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.

Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.

So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.

“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea.

“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”

“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”

“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”

“Fin got it on his first try.”

“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”

Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”

“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”

“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”

“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.

And then—

Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”

The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.

It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.

“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.

Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.

“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”

“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.

“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“We didn’t, right?”

“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”

“Father’s gonna kill us.”

“If not us, the monsters.”

Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.

Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.

“Your Majesty.”

The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.

“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”

Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.

“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”

She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”

Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”

Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”

“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”

Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”

“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”

“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”

You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”

“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”

“Floyd.”

At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.

“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”

“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.

Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.

“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”

“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”

“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”

The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”

“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”

She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”

To that, no one could offer a smart reply.

“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”

“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”

“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.

Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”

“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”

“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”

Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”

“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”

“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.

“Let the grown-ups talk.”

Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”

Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”

Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.

You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.

“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”

Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.

“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”

Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”

“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”

Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”

Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”

It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.

Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?

“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”

Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”

Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”

“Because you tried to kill her.”

“Because she was in our territory!”

Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”

“He’s right, Floyd.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”

Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.

Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.

“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”

The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”

You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”

“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”

You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”

“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.

“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”

His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.

You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.

“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”

But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.

Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.

It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.

Floyd was right. You are a brat.

And yet he can’t hate you.

On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.

Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.

“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”

He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.

“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.

More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.

Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.

“Happy birthday…”

“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”

Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.

“I want to start over.”

“Start over?”

“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”

You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.

“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”

Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”

You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”

I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.

“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”

“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”

“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”

“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”

“I’m not!”

You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.

“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.

“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”

“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”

With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.

“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.

Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.

He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.

Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.

Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.

This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.

Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.

“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”

By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.

The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.

It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.

You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.

You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…

Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?

Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.

Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.

You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.

Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?

And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.

“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”

Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”

“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”

Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”

“What’d Azul ever do to you?”

You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.

“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”

“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”

“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”

You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.

This is it. You’re dead.

…or not.

The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.

“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”

“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”

Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”

You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.

It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.

Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”

You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.

When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.

The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.

It’s a nightmare lived in real time.

Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.

Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?

Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.

“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”

“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”

“That was before the union.”

“I’m not letting it go.”

“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”

You don’t believe him.

“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”

You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”

“Legally, you are.”

“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”

Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”

“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”

Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.

“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”

A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.

“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”

“I love you.”

You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.

“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”

“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”

“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”

“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”

It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.

“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”

“N-No… Please stop. Please.”

“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”

Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.

The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.

“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”

Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”

Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”

A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.

“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”

You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.

Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”

“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”

“What a silly demand.”

He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”

“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”

You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.

He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.

You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.

“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.”

But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.

In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.

“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”

Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”

Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.

The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.

“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”

Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”

Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.

He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.

You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”

“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”

He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.

“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”

Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.

“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.

It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto #yandere azul x reader #yandere azul ashengrotto x reader #yandere azul #n/sfw #tw: noncon #tw: breeding #tw: oviposition

1K notes · View notes

rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months ago

Text

eventually

words: 700

warnings: established relationship, college student!reader, long distance relationship, cheating, not a happy ending, wheezie is a queen as per usual, mentions/implications of hooking up but the fic is pretty sfw

“it'll be… it'll be really hard and i understand if you want to break up.” just the words coming out of your mouth breaks your heart.

“is that what you want?”

“what?” you shake your head quickly, moving to sit even closer and taking rafes hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “i love you. i don't want us to ever break up, but im going to college three hours away.”

“we will just have to go long distance.” rafe raises your joined hands and kisses the back of your hand to your fingers. “im not giving up on the only good thing in my life.”

“oh, rafe.” you pout, launching yourself forward into a tight embrace.

--six months later--

you smile at the email approving you to take your exam early. it's the last one you need and considering you already have a 4.0 in the glass, you don't see it dropping just because you get less time to study.

you quickly close outlook and open up your text messages. as much as you want to tell rafe that you'll be coming home two weeks early, you also really want to surprise him.

hey wheezie girl!! I need your help…

“where is he?” you whisper as wheezie let's you into the house.

“in his room.” wheezie also keeps her voice low. “he might be asleep though so i don't know if you want to wait.”

“no.” you shake your head quickly. you just got home and the first thing you did was drive to tanneyhill, you're not sure if you can wait even a minute longer. “i got it from here, thanks girl.” you give wheezie a big hug. “i missed you too, ya know.”

wheezie hugs you back before letting you tiptoe up the stairs, keeping your steps as light as to not wake rafe.

you take a deep breath when you see his door, excitement filling in you knowing he's just on the other side.

you grip the brass handle and turn it slowly, attempting to keep the door from creaking as you step into the dark room.

your eyes take a second to adjust to the darkness, the morning light blocked out by the heavy curtains. you recognize a figure in bed and take a few steps closer, but with every movement, your heart drops further.

the sob rips from your chest before you even realize you're crying, waking rafe instantly.

“baby?” he sits up quickly, his voice frantic. “what are you doing here?”

“baby?!” you squeal. “you don't get to call me baby when there's a girl in your fucking bed!”

the clearly naked girl, gripping the blanket to her chest is now awake and staring at the both of you in confusion, probably some touron who had no clue what she was getting involved with.

“p-please.” rafe stutters, standing quickly. “it doesn't mean anything, i don't even remember her name i just needed to-”

you hold your hand up. “i don't want to hear it. i can't believe you… this is over. we are over.”

you walk quickly out of the room and stumble down the stairs, feeling like the house is suffocating you.

you don't even realize that you bump directly into ward, practically crashing into him and forcing him back into rose.

“y/n, what's wrong?” ward asks just as rose asks you when you got home, the whole family knowing when to expect you.

“what's wrong is your son is a cheater.” you give rafe a glare as he stands at the top of his stairs in only his underwear.

“rafe-” ward growls out. he knows how good you are for his son, he's seen the shift in his behavior since you left.

“baby, i still love you, she means nothing to me! it was just casual-”

you leave the house as his pleas continue, not wanting to hear another word of his bullshit arguments, knowing two years has now gone down the drain.

“im sorry.” you look up to see wheezie standing by your car. “i didn't know for sure but… but i guessed. i know you needed to see it with your own eyes. he went to a party last night and-”

“oh, wheeze.” you quickly give her a hug. “it's okay. ill be okay.”

“you will?”

you don't know the answer to that question, not for certain as you look back at the house, rafe stood in the doorway but not following you as ward lectures him.

“not any time soon.” you admit honestly. “but i will be. eventually.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ethanthequeefqueen @ladyinbl00d @drewsephrry

624 notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 10 months ago

Note

Ella toone, reader is a doctor or nurse in the hospital, assuring her that she won’t loose her finger after the darts game on national camp 😂 fluff

drama queen II e.toone

"is that ella?" you heard a scream in the distance and looked up from the stack of papers you were palming through with a frown. your coworker gave you a shrug, the question answered for you as esme barreled in a few seconds later.

"tooneys took her finger off with a dart!" the blonde breathed out shakily as your eyes widened. "she's what?" you exclaimed, grabbing the med bag and hurrying after her toward the rec room of base camp.

ellas cries of pain echoed after you as you and esme burst through the doors, a small crowd gathered around your girlfriend. "alright girls give me some room here please." you ordered gently as they parted and you dropped to your knees.

"what have you done this time el?" you sighed, a bloodied rag wrapped around her hand as she sobbed. "oh baby i've lost it! i've lost me finger! i'm only gonna have four now!" ella cried out choking back tears, head slumping to your shoulder.

"not helping!" you mouthed toward alessia and niamh who couldn't seem to help giggling at the girls expense. "fuck off the pair of ya! this is your fault charles!" ella sobbed angrily, good hand pointing at her threatningly.

"my fault! tooney its not my fault you decided to use your hand to block a perfectly good shot. what were you thinking? your hands not dart proof!" niamh scoffed as you gave both her and alessia a look, the taller blonde carting her off as ella huffed.

"did you try to use your hand as a dart board babe?" you teased, hoping to try and lighten the situation as a few of the older girls started to usher everyone away to give you and ella some space, most of them still hovering nearby in concern.

"no! god baby i've lost my finger! its gone!" ella cried out with a groan as you warned you were going to unwrap the rag from her hand. you sucked in air through your teeth seeing the amount of dried blood as ella covered her eyes with her spare hand.

"i can't look. is it bad? can ya sew it back on?" ella questioned anxiously. "i just need to wipe away the blood so i can get a better look love, this is gonna sting." you warned, mary dropping to her knees on ellas other side and nudging her to hold her hand.

"you sure maz? of all people we need your hands unbroken." you joked but there was a hint of seriousness in your tone carrying over the real warning, mary moving back as esme took her spot and ella clutched onto her hand, eyes squeezed shut.

"is it bad? baby i need updates!" ella fussed, groaning in pain as you gently started to wipe away the blood, the cut still oozing out fresh stuff as you went, squeezing her leg reassuringly.

"is it barely hanging on? will ya have to amputate? can ya play football with four fingers?" ella asked question after question, cursing in pain and trying to pull her hand back as you held on tightly.

"alright. give it to me straight baby, how bad?" ella let go of esmes hand to gently pat your cheek, eyes still squeezed shut as your own rolled. "this is gruesome babe, i think we'll need to amputate the whole hand." you sighed, mary smacked your shoulder gently as you looked up with a grin and ella shrieked.

"el you muppet i don't have to amputate anything, your finger is very much so still attached to your hand and staying that way." you chuckled before she could kick off, eyes glaring daggers at you as you smiled.

"look at it! thats not fine! its danglin!" ella huffed nodding furiously down at her hand. "you're very lucky you've missed the tendon and the nerves that would have been bad, but fingers just bleed a lot. the cut is about three and a half deep, i'll need to pop a few dissolvable stitches in and you'll be right as rain." you assured but it did nothing to stop her moaning about.

with a nod mary and esme helped her up as you all headed for the medics office where the rest of your supplies were, you quietly murmering to esme to go and let sarina know what happened as the blonde nodded and took off.

"el you will be fine my love, your finger is fine!" you smiled as she groaned out in pain again, taking a seat as mary sat beside her and you rummaged around in the first aid kit. "its not fine i almost lost it!" ella cried out with a huff as mary rubbed her back trying not to laugh.

"i know i know and you're being very brave." you cooed, sitting in front of her and softly grabbing her wrist. "careful!" ella shouted with another groan as you withheld the urge to roll your eyes at her dramatics.

"so did it drop off? is she gonna have four fingers now? i think you should keep it in a little jar tooney as a momento." alessia poked her head inside with a wolfish grin as you shot her a look and ella kicked off again.

"less be supportive or go away." you warned with a ghost of a smile as the tall blonde stood beside mary, opting to remain quiet. "gentle woman jesus!" ella hissed yanking her hand away.

"ella i haven't even started yet that was just me wiping away the dried blood." you sighed, motioning for her hand again as she mumbled something and curled into marys side, hiding her face in the keepers shoulder as alessia reached over and rubbed her back.

"now i'm starting and i need you to sit very still please baby." you warned rather firmly as ella nodded, face still hidden away in marys shoulder as she groaned out in pain every now and then.

"ella i said still!" you sighed impatiently as you started on the first stitch and she flinched, your grip on her tightening. "alessia talk to her please, take her mind off it." you requested as the blonde started to ramble some stories of her countless clumsy moments making ella laugh.

"okay. done!" you announced a couple of minutes later, gently wrapping a bandage tightly around her finger to stem the bleeding. "leave that on tonight and i'll re-dress it tomorrow morning." you ordered, ella sitting up with a nod.

"needs one more thing though baby." you quirked an eyebrow curiously as a smile graced the midfielders face and she held her hand out expectantly. "you're unbelievable sometimes toone." you sighed in amusement, gently kissing her bandaged finger.

"ya comin up baby?" ella asked, trailing behind once mary and alessia had stepped out. "in a bit, i've got a bit more paperwork to get ahead of love." you smiled apologetically as your girlfriend nodded.

"thank ya, my little nurse." ella grinned, leaning across your desk to kiss you sweetly. "anytime for my favourite patient." you chuckled and waved for her to go, really needing to make a dent into the files scattered in front of you.

"i'll be expectin some extra kisses tonight yanno, since i almost lost me finger today!" ella warned from the doorway as you smiled with a shake of your head, eyes focused on millies file you'd just flicked open as your girlfriend stepped out.

"oi less, niamhy! rematch?" your head snapped up at that as you hurried to the door, poking your head out and watching your girlfriends figure retreat back toward the rec room.

"ella ann toone no more darts!"

#woso #woso x reader #ella toone x reader #ella toone #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community #engwnt

609 notes · View notes

the-palelady · 2 months ago

Note

CAN I PLZ HAVE SOME HUNTER GHOST MAID READER HCS???? IM OBSESSED

anything for you my love! ( •̀ ω •́ )♡

cw ; brief mentions of blood

hunter!ghost is silent as he comes and goes through cainhurst castle, not even speaking to queen annalise, but he’ll stop to speak with you

your focus tends to be drawn to whatever is in front of you whether that be wiping dust from the candelabras, sweeping the floors, or brushing away the patches of snow that build up on the flower boxes outside

ghost likes to catch you off guard, finding your little yelps or squeals endearing

when the two of you first met, you were far too shy to say anything, instead cautiously watching him as he sauntered off with an amused glimmer in his eyes

but now that you are much more familiar with the hunter’s presence, you instead turn to playfully smack his arm, “what if thou possessed a weapon?!”

“lil’ dove like ya would never think twice to carry a weapon.”

ghost is a hunter. of course he’s clever, astute. so he knows how to roam about the palace undetected, and he uses this to his advantage

you could be completely immersed in your daily tasks, unaware that the hunter is lurking within the shadows literally 2 steps to your left or right, maybe right behind you

ghost enjoys watching how concentrated you are when it comes to your work, your brows pinching as you try to rub an extra tough stain out of the curtains or the secret little curses you let slip when you drop the laundry

despite how frail and soft you might look, you are a spitfire

ghost could return late one night from an extra bloody fight, tracking in blood and remnants of pieces of beasts flesh that stick to his coat

and you’re right there at the big double doors, hounding the hulking hunter with a broom in one hand and a feather duster in the other, the two pointed at him as if to intimidate him

he thought it was cute honestly

“milady wouldst be furious if thou sees the hall in such disarray!!!”

you would force him into the guest chambers, grabbing at his hunter’s garb and tearing it from his body piece by piece (making sure to keep the filth off of the rugs of course)

you’d have a warm bath already prepared for him, something you had started doing the first night he had come back to the castle from a hunt

ghost would never admit that it was what he looked forward to the most when returning

the water smelt of lavender, the warmth of it immediately soothing him as soon as he stepped foot into the wash tub

and you were always there, like the dove you were, nimble fingers rubbing out the knots in his shoulders and upper back

sometimes you’d secretly make him silly hats with the bubbles

“wha’s goin’ on back there?”

“n-nothing! nothing!”

he’d relax back while you continue to giggle, your nails dragging delicately along his scalp and working the soap in before rinsing it out

when you were done, you’d stand in an attempt to give him his privacy, knowing the mental and physical toll that being a hunter had to have on him. who wouldn’t want their privacy after such a long night?

but he’d reach out before you could step away, his beast like hands wrapping around the circumference of your wrist and pulling you back to sit on your stool

he’d ask you about your day although he knew you had a routine that was hardly ever broken

however, you indulged him anyway, rambling on about your day despite how miniscule it was compared to what he did

in the mornings, he can’t help but crack a smile at the neatly folded clothes that you’ve left him at the end of his bed

the subtle scent of you lingers along the the fabrics, and after a fight he’ll sometimes catch a whiff of you, the smell calming him more than the oils you use in his baths ever could

you live in this man’s head (i’m talking rent free) 24/7

he seeks you out like a lost puppy when he doesn’t have beasts to hunt, you becoming his sole source of entertainment

you’d huff and puff in annoyance as he follows you up and down the halls, simply just watching you clean

sometimes queen annalise will spot you whacking him on the head with your feather duster (the feather part of course)

it’s just been you and the queen for so long, so you secretly enjoy having ghost here, his presence a breath of fresh air

and he feels the same about you, your smile awakening something in his cold heart

sometimes he’ll steal a quick peck on the lips from you while you’re yelling about him making a mess, and you’ll go silent immediately, a look of shock and exasperation on your face

��cat go’ ya tongue, love?”

122 notes · View notes

usiel21 · 5 months ago

Text

The courting gift.

Thing: What about a diamond?

Wednesday: Don't be ridiculous Thing, Enid is worth more than any mere dia-

Thing: Oh no, i know that look.

Wednesday: Thing you are a genius.

Thing: ...This isn't going to end well.

1 Hour Later...

Wednesday: Enid, a family matter has arisen that i must attend to, I will be back by the end of the weekend.

Enid: Uh yeah sure, everything okay?

Wednesday: (Pause) Yes, it cannot wait. Don't wait up and if i shan't return, burn this school down and everyone inside.

Enid: Wow... you're such a psychopath! (Giggles)

Wednesday:

Wednesday: Flattery will... it won't... (Sigh) Los halagos no te llevarán a ninguna parte cuando ya me has capturado, en cuerpo, mente y alma.

Enid: (Smiling widely) I Love you too!

Wednesday: (Quietly) Do not jest with your words Mi loba.

Two Days Later...

Enid is stood in the common room of Ophelia Hall, watching the news with Yoko and Divinia.

News Presenter: ...We have some upsetting breaking news, The Tower of London was broken into last night where thieves took the Koh i noor, a diamond that was set in the crown of the Queen Mother. With an estimated value of Three Hundred Million Pounds, the jewel is said to be priceless. The Metropolitan Police in conjunction with Palace officials have confirmed that currently there are no suspects, this is without doubt one of the greatest heists in history, although authorities are baffled that only one item was taken.

Enid: Wow... what kind of person would steal from a dead woman's crown. (Shaking her head) Anyway laters, Wednesday is due back at any moment!

Yoko: (Grinning) Like a puppy eagerly awaiting their owners return at the door.

Enid: (Blushing) Shut up. Anyway i'll see you later!

Enid rushes up a flight of stairs, two steps at a time, a bounce in her step. She had missed Wednesday. She had missed her so much. She pushes open the door making Wednesday flinch.

Enid: Wends!

Wednesday: (Turning around sharply, hiding something behind her back) Mi loba.

Enid: (Narrowing her eyes.) What's behind your back?

Wednesday: ...Nothing.

Enid folds her arms with a pointed glare and tilt of her head.

Wednesday sighs, knowing she can't lie to Enid, not anymore, brings the item in front of her.

Enid: Wednesday... please tell me you have a really, really good reason for having the fucking Koh-i-noor in our dorm room???

Wednesday: (Weakly) I stole it for you. I planned to give it to you this coming full Moon. To court you.

Enid:

Enid: Wends... all you had to do was ask me out for a coffee or something, not commit the greatest heist in living history! (Tearily) But oh em gee, you did this? for me?

Wednesday: I would do anything for you, my fierce, fluorescent wolf.

Enid: (Preening and blushing) Oh my gosh... I'm going to have to get used to that huh?

Wednesday: (Striding forwards) As long as I breathe every breath will be spent making sure you never feel unloved ever again.

Enid: (Squeaking as Wednesday gets within several inches of Enid's face)

Enid: You...I...uh... you love me?

Thing:

Thing: Oh fer fuck sake, just propose already!

45 Mins later...

Thing: These lesbians, i can't anymore. They keep making googly eyes at each other from across the room and smiling, a hand can only stand to watch so much you know?

Weems: Wait... Wednesday AND Enid???

Thing: YES!

Weems: Wednesday smiling?

Thing: YES!

Weems: (Muttering) God help us all...

(The Koh-i-noor is never found)

#wenclair #this turned into quite the mini story #Wednesday would steal the greatest diamond in the world for Enid #prove me wrong #they're so gay

218 notes · View notes

rodanhoax · 10 days ago

Text

Jaune: *Wielding the relic of destruction* It's over Pyrrha! Give me back my son!

Pyrrha: Don't you mean, "our" son?

Jaune: Pyrrha... y-you look so different.

Pyrrha: I did a little something with my hair. And my lips.

Jaune: Are those thigh highs?

Pyrrha: So you noticed those too?

Ironwood: Okay Jaune, take the shot.

Pyrrha: What do you think of them?

Jaune: I uh... um-

Ironwood: She's standing right there, Jaune. Take the shot.

Pyrrha: Do you like my open bust dress~?

Jaune: Oh god yeah.

Qrow: What the hell is wrong with you?!

Port: Blast this harpy!

Jaune: I'm sorry guys, b-but I cant.

Port: The shrew has been forged from brimstone.

Qrow: Translation?

Ironwood: He's saying she's an evil clone.

Jaune: I hear ya. Counterpoint:

Jaune: She's really hot.

Qrow: Damn it Arc!

Port: Reject women! Embrace huntsmanship!

Ironwood: Can't you see how evil she is?!

Pyrrha: I'm going for the goth girlfriend look.

Jaune: Okay guys, I know she's an evil clone... But, she is the mother of my child. To be honest, this situation is confusing as hell for me. I... I'm tapping out.

Qrow: Tapping out?

Ironwood: You're a huntsman, you can't tap out.

Jaune: Dude, I'm tapping out.

Port: What would Ozpin think of this treason?

Jaune: The professor?

-Flashback-

Ozpin: You're like a son to me Jaune, I trust you with my very life. I want you to know that I keep a gun in hidden inside my cane. It's always with me Jaune. I sleep with it. I dream of it. You can never be too careful around these students-

Jaune: It's not working, he... keeps talking about guns.

Ironwood: Guns?

Jaune: Yeah.

Qrow: That doesn't sound right.

Pyrrha: Are you sure this isn't his evil clone?

Jaune: He kind of hinted it was for... self defense?

Port: Guns are nothing before my axe!

Qrow: Isn't your axe also a gun?

Port: Silence!

Ironwood: You don't think the professor actually used it do you?

Jaune: Do I think the professor shot someone? No, of course not. That's like totally ridiculous. Besides, we would have heard about it.

Pyrrha: He could have just wiped your memories.

Jaune: What?

Pyrrha: He could have shot someone then wiped everyone's memories about the event. With his magic it would have been easy for him.

Jaune: This is a terrifying thought.

Ironwood: Don't listen to her Jaune!

Pyrrha: Join me Jaune. The Grimm Queen needs a king.

Jaune: Not gonna lie, Grimm Queen is kind of weird, but i'm in.

Port: Step away from her you fool!

Jaune: I'm kind of bricked up at the moment.

Qrow: Don't worry Arc, I know this ain't easy. That's why I offer myself... as a sacrifice. Do what you want to me Pyrrha, make me your freaky sex puppet for all I care. Just let Arc go!

Port: What a noble gesture!

Ironwood: He is truly the best of us.

Qrow: Tie me up. Slap me. Step on me! It's alright, my ego ain't that big. Just leave the kid out of this!

Jaune: I know what you're doing.

Qrow: You ain't gotta thank me Jaune. Y'know... I really shoulda said this sooner, but... but you're like a brother to me!

Jaune: You've always had a thing for her.

Qrow: Oz would've been proud of ya, kid. I know I sure as hell am.

Jaune: You can't just live out your sick fantasies with my fake goth girlfriend!

Port: Your words can no longer reach him... His heart is set.

Ironwood: We shall remember you, Qrow... We shall remember you.

Qrow: So Pyrrha... How ya wanna do this? Should I take off the cape now, or-

Pyrrha: Sorry, Qrow, but you're a little old for my taste. Not to mention a furry.

Qrow: Furries deserve love!

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #qrow branwen #james ironwood #peter port #rwby arkos #arkos #UndeadHumor

79 notes · View notes

guilty-pleasures21 · 5 months ago

Text

Dragon!Miguel - kidnapped!

The main fic turned out much more popular than I expected, so I decided to spoil you guys with a short side story 🤭.

@captain-liminal possible art of Dragon!Miguel x Phoenix!Reader ?

Hope you guys enjoy!

Warnings: brief mention of violence.

----------------------------------------------------------

He marched out of the throne room, glad that the meeting had finally ended: now he could fly off to his wife’s kingdom to join her while she visited her family for a few days. She’d left earlier that day, wanting to spend as much time back home as possible, and though he hadn’t liked the idea of sending his wife off alone, he could never say no to her.

“Your Majesty!” A palace guard’s frantic voice broke into his thoughts of his pretty little wife and Miguel frowned as he looked up at the man. But then the guard continued and Miguel’s blood ran cold at his words.

“The Queen!” he exclaimed, slowing to a stop in front of Miguel. “She’s been kidnapped! We have received a ransom letter - from a group of rebel orcs, it would seem. They caught her midway through her flight back-” He broke off suddenly as Miguel flew down the hallway, racing towards the front entrance of the palace. The guard followed after him, calling after his King in a panic, but Miguel refused to slow down.

“Your Majesty!”

“Send an army!” Miguel commanded, calling back to him as he soared away from the palace. His body lengthened into its full dragon form as he climbed higher in the sky, his eyes narrowing into reptilian slits and his skin darkening into deep blue scales. He’d make them pay. He’d make sure there was nothing left of those half-witted, foul-breathed, repugnant monsters once he was through with them.

The orc whom she supposed was the second-in-command snarled at her from between the bars of the cage they’d locked her in.

“Just give us a feather, Princess! Or else we’ll have to let Lumdum take it from ya,” he threatened, prompting a gleeful snicker from his friend.

“Yeah!” Lumdum agreed. “Let me at ‘er! I got a few new fancy tools I been meaning to try out on a pretty little birdie …”

X shuddered as the orc leered at her, his cracked lips stretching wide to reveal patches of missing teeth. She grabbed the bars of her cage and drew her brows together to galre at them in what she hoped was a threatening manner - Miguel always said she looked especially cute whenever she frowned at him like that. But she didn’t want to be cute now: she wanted to be taken seriously!

“You and I both know you will not be getting what you want out of me,” she said, glad that her voice came out steady despite her nerves. “The best you can hope for is to let me go this instant so that my husband might take the smallest shred of mercy on you and not obliterate you into pieces!”

The orcs glanced at one another for a moment. Then they all burst into laughter, bending over and clutching their stomachs at how adorable she looked, wrinkling her nose at them.

“We’ll take our chances, Princess,” the leader - Varbu, she thought she’d heard the others call him - assured her. He started creeping towards her and X moved back to the other end of the cage. She sucked in shallow breaths, trying to stop herself from transforming out of fear - phoenix feathers were one of the most powerful objects next to dragon scales, able to wipe out an entire battlefield’s worth of soldiers if they were set aflame at the right angle, so she didn’t want to give these demented creatures a single opportunity to get one of hers. She whimpered as she pressed herself against the bars, wishing she had even an ounce as much of power as Miguel had - then she could have at least tried to defend herself against these brutes. Her heart thudded in her chest as Varbu’s fat green fingers closed around the iron bars, then the both of them froze as a loud roar echoed throughout the valley. X looked up and a felt wave of relief crash over her as she saw her husband swooping towards her, his deep blue scales glinting in the sunlight, his fiery eyes burning with rage when they landed on her.

He drew a deep breath into his lungs, then released it again, bathing the valley in flames. The orcs scrambled around in a panic, desperately trying to put out the fire eating away at their clothes, but Miguel refused to grant them a second of respite before he staged his attack. He dived lower and picked up one of the orcs to throw him over the mountains, ignoring his terrified screams as he flew through the air to his death. Then he swiped at another with his claws, splitting him open as he batted him into the now scorched forest nearby. He descended on the last one before he even had a chance to blink, closing his jaw around his head and flinging him far out of his reach from his wife.

She transformed into her phoenix form as he released another barrage of flames, allowing the warmth of his fire to heal the injuries she’d sustained when she’d been snatched out of the sky earlier. She cooed happily as her husband made his way over to her, the ground trembling with every step he took. Miguel grabbed hold of the bars and pulled them apart, bending the metal to create a gap for his wife to exit through.

She was so graceful in her phoenix form, stepping out of the wretched cage and arranging her dazzling feathers before she finally looked up at him with those big, beautiful eyes of hers. Miguel relaxed slightly at the sight of her safe before him and grunted softly before lowering his head to nuzzle her affectionately. His wife wriggled against his cheek, delighted to be reunited with him and he sighed at how soft she felt. Dios, she was perfect. He’d never let her out of his sight again.

She stretched her wings as he curled his large body around her and let out another coo to catch his attention. Her husband raised his head in question and she gestured to the sky, eager to get home and see her parents. Miguel snorted in disagreement as he straightened, refusing to let her travel by herself again. Instead, he turned his head to his body, gesturing for her to get on. X rolled her eyes, but flew up to his back anyway, transforming back into her human form and wrapping herself securely around him. He took off into the air once she was comfortable and together, they continued their journey to her parents’ home.

The King and Queen of Risendelle paced back and forth in their throne room, anxiously awaiting any news on their precious daughter. Finally, a palace guard burst through the doors, grabbing both of their attentions.

“Your Majesties!” he exclaimed between shallow breaths. “It is the Dragon King! He is almost here!”

The King and Queen rushed to greet their son-in-law, the both of them holding their breaths as they watched him ascend to the ground. They ran over to him once he’d landed and let out twin sighs of relief when they saw their daughter safe and sound on his back. X slid to the ground and let herself be wrapped up by her parents, hugging them back as tightly as they did her.

“My baby!” the Queen screeched. “Are you all right? Did they … Did they hurt you?!”

“Your brother left as soon as we received the news!” the King informed her before she even had a chance to respond. “He brought some of the army with him, so they should-”

Miguel huffed in interruption, surrounding the three of them in a circle of smoke. He grunted when they all turned to look at him, then shrank back down into his human form. His arms came around his wife almost immediately, pulling her back against his chest and holding her close.

“There’s nothing left of them,” Miguel informed his wife’s father. “The prince may return to spend time with his sister.”

The King reached up and gave his son-in-law’s shoulder a grateful squeeze. “Thank you, son. We appreciate your intervention.”

“My wife-” A growl escaped his throat as he tried to respond and Miguel tightened his grip on X as he took a moment to calm himself down. X brushed her thumbs across the back of his hands where they were clasped around her abdomen and Miguel felt some of the heat dissipate from his body. He cleared his throat and tried again. “My wife is my most precious treasure. I will never let anything happen to her!” His fangs shot out in anger and he let out an involuntary snarl at the thought. The Queen nodded in understanding and brushed a loose strand of X’s hair behind her ear.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she told Miguel, glad that her daughter had found someone so enamoured with her. “Perhaps the two of you would like to get some rest after your journey? We’ll have the maids call you when dinner is ready.”

X twisted her head back to look up at her husband, blinking at him with her curly lashes. Miguel lowered his head to nuzzle the crook of her neck with his nose and she turned back to her mother to place a hand on her forearm.

“We’ll see you at dinner, mother,” she agreed, before walking into the palace. Her husband’s arms stayed glued to her waist as she led them both down the hallway, making her way towards her childhood bedroom. Miguel tugged her back to him once they were alone and bent over to press soft kisses to her skin, his lips making their way up the side of her neck to her cheek. X giggled at the ticklish feeling and turned around to face him, delighting in the feeling of his hard muscles as she placed her hands on his broad chest. She stretched onto her toes to give him a quick kiss, then cupped his face in her hand when she’d lowered herself back to her feet. She brushed her thumb across his cheek and Miguel pouted down at her, allowing himself to be vulnerable enough for her to see the terror that had overcome him at the thought of her being hurt. X wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers making their way into his hair, and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek as she held him close.

He stroked her back gently, focusing on the familiar smoky scent of her to soothe his pounding heart. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, showering her with the occasional kiss as she tickled his scalp softly. Finally, he pulled back and trailed his gaze over her, taking her in and reassuring himself that she was safe. She stretched up to kiss him again and Miguel bent over to repeat the gesture before taking a step back. He shook his arms out and transformed into full dragon form, his large body taking up the entirety of the room. X raised her eyebrows at him in question and he circled the room before settling down on the ground, his head resting on her bed.

She could still feel some leftover adrenaline from her ordeal, but she didn’t want him to panic any more than he already had. So, she sighed and flashed him an exasperated look, her lips curling at the ends with amusement. Miguel gave her a beseeching look in return and she shook her head before transforming into her phoenix form.

He wagged his tail excitedly as she fluttered into the little nest he’d created for her with his body. She was so beautiful in her creature form, her golden feathers glimmering in the light, her brown eyes wide and alluring, her slender body stretching out so gracefully. He reached over to nuzzle her with his cheek, relishing the feeling of her silky feathers against his scales, then he rested his head back on the bed. He watched quietly as she shifted around, getting herself comfortable. Then she closed her eyes and drifted off into sleep, safe in the knowledge that her husband would protect her. Miguel lifted his head to stroke her feathers again, unable to resist how adorable his pretty little wife was. X opened one eye and cooed at him in irritation, and Miguel gave her one last nuzzle before laying his head back down and quickly falling asleep himself.

The maid knocked on the door to the princess’s bedroom, then gently pushed it open. “Ma’am? Dinner is- Oh!”

She startled as she was met by an enormous dragon filling up the entire space. Miguel opened one eye to look at her, his expression unreadable as he flicked his tail back and forth, waiting for her to speak. The maid gulped and lowered her head before gesturing outside. “T-The … The Queen … D-Dinner … is ready … Your Majesty.”

She snuck a glance at Miguel and he huffed at her request before nodding to his wife, firmly asleep in his embrace. The maid nodded quickly, her eyes widening with understanding.

“O-Oh!” she gasped. “Yes, Your Majesty. I shall inform the Queen that the Princess is still resting.” She fell into a bow as she backed out of the room, staunchly avoiding Miguel’s gaze as she closed the door quietly and left. X wriggled around as she started to awaken and she blinked up at Miguel sleepily before cooing at him in question. Miguel reached over to brush her feathers with his cheek, gently nudging her back to sleep, but she transformed back into her human form instead.

“Miguel? ¿Qué pasó, querido? What time is it?” She patted his nose, then started trying to climb over his tail to get to the door. Miguel transformed back as well and rushed over to grab her waist, turning her around and pulling her against him. His wife laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he sprinkled kisses along her cheek and down the side of her neck.

“Querida …” he whined, not wanting to leave their little cocoon just yet. “Te amo, mi reina.”

“I love you, too, Miguel.” She ran her fingers through his hair, then smiled up at him when he straightened. “But I’m starving, mi amor! Let’s eat!”

122 notes · View notes

judesmoonbeauty · 2 months ago

Text

The Robin’s Unaware of Ultimate Evil Behind The Scenes: Jude Jazza Chapter 1

Fan translation only. Not 100% accurate. Please expect grammatical errors. Cybird owns everything. Feel free to re-blog, but please do not post my translations elsewhere. Thank you, for you support! ☾.

It was extremely quiet that day.

I hadn’t heard the voice I normally do, and it wasn’t until sunset I noticed something was off.

(Come to think of it, I ain’t seen her today.)

Just as I noticed and started to consider the voice’s absent owner, Ellis opened his mouth like he was calling out my thoughts.

Ellis: Kate went out today.

Jude: Ha?

Ellis: Was I wrong? It seemed like you were looking for someone, so that’s why I thought that.

(Creep, ya misunderstood.)

(I ain’t lookin’ for her.)

Not bothering to respond, I pick up my pace when Ellis started talking about I didn’t ask about.

Ellis: It's a party she’s been looking forward to for a while.

Ellis: It was planned by a baroness who rose from the working class, and said that even working people need to have fun.

Ellis: I think she was invited by someone from her previous workplace, and she thought she’d give it a try.

Jude: Yer well informed.

Ellis: I just saw her off.

Jude: Oh, yeah.

Ellis: I said hello for Jude too.

Jude: Do whatever ya want.

As I walked faster to get back to my room —

???: Ah, you two!

I turned around to find pink hair in front of me, and sensing trouble I scowled.

Ellis: Liam, what’s wrong.

Liam: I was asked to deliver a message for you to go to the office when you returned.

Jude: It’s just to get another mission from her Majesty the Queen, innit?

Liam: I think so, but it seems like Kate might be involved.

Jude: ….Hah?

When I furrow my brow at the spun name, Liam quickly shakes his head.

Liam: Don’t worry it doesn’t seem like she was attacked or involved in any kind of incident.

Ellis: Okay, thanks Liam.

I quicken my pace as I glance at him leaving with a wave of his hand.

Ellis: I wonder what he means by it’s related to Kate.

Without even responding to Ellis’ words, I threw open the office door,

Victor: Welcome back, that was quick.

Jude: Whaddaya smilin’ for ol’ man.

Victor: Nothing, you just came much sooner than expected.

Victor: I just thought it was because of Kate’s name being mentioned.

Jude: I’m leavin’.

Victor: Wait, wait, it’s actually about a mission!

Victor seemed impatient with me as I mentally clicked my tongue, and turned to leave.

(Ya ain’t one to be in a hurry though.)

Ellis: So, what’s it about it?

Victor: Her Majesty the Queen has heard of a drug deals happening,

Victor: You’re ordered to go to the scene and secure the main culprit.

Apparently, a certain aristocrat living in London is supplying drugs to the working class.

The instant I learned about the venue, the atmosphere changed.

Victor: The site is at the party Kate’s attending.

Jude: …..What’s that idiot doin’.

Victor: It seems safe to say that the Baroness who’s hosting the party is the one running the drugs.

(I thought it was just some street party.)

She hosts parties for non-aristocratic working people.

Although she was formerly of the working class, I was puzzled as to why she did something that wouldn’t make money —

(So that princess joined without knowin’ nothin’.)

(‘Though you’ve seen so many people’s evil intentions with Crown, ya didn’t even question it.)

Victor: Infiltrate the party, arrest the drug dealers, and capture the baroness.

Victor: That’s the mission given you this time.

Ellis: Shall we kill those involved?

Ellis asked with an unchanged expression as usual,

Victor: I’ll leave it up to you guys.

And as usual, Victor leaves it up to us —

Victor: AH, BUT THERE’S ONE PROBLEM!

There isn’t.

Jude: Don’t speak so loud all the sudden, yer so noisy.

Victor: I’m sorry, I just wanted to say one thing.

Victor: I want you to carry this out without Kate finding out.

(Yer sayin’ somethin’ I don’t get again.)

Victor: Kate was really looking forward to today’s party.

Victor: You know that too, right Ellis?

Ellis: Yeah, she seemed happier than usual.

Victor: She always works so hard, but I want her to forget about work for today.

Victor: So, the plan is for you to work behind the scenes to complete the mission and protect Kate!

I clicked my tongue at Victor who clapped his hands excitedly which lured Ellis in to clap too.

Jude: I understand the mission, but why should we protect the princess.

Victor: What if she’s forced to take drugs….! You’d be worried right?

Ellis: I don’t want that to happen because I want Kate to be happy.

Victor: That’s right, isn’t it? So, we have to protect her!

And then as usual, the signal was given to start the mission, ignoring my opinion.

Victor: Now then, loyalty to your evil.

Along with a click of my tongue.

[Master List] [Next] Dividers: @.natimiles

Tag list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

Please comment or DM me if you'd like to be added to my translations tag list.

#jude jazza translations #jude jazza #ikevil jude #cybird translations #ikevil translations

106 notes · View notes

nova-is-a-writer-now · 3 months ago

Text

Hidden embers

Chapter 3

Chapter summary: Joel needs help with his yard, you need help with figuring your feelings out

A/N: Im so excited you guys have been liking this!! last chapter was a good one, but this is my favorite so far. I also started a tag list so if y’all want to be part of that comment down here <3 Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: No outbreak AU, Age gap, DBF!Joel, Mean!Joel if you squint, some accidental physical contact lol, sexual tension but no smut

Series masterlist

“You can’t spend your whole summer doing nothing. You should really find something productive to do while you’re back home.”

Four years of college, every summer break, and most holidays spent working to cover tuition and other expenses—a lifetime of never catching a break until now—and that’s what your mother tells you after just two weeks of "doing nothing"?

You knew this was coming. It was only a matter of time before she decided to insert herself into your life and dictate your every move. It’s nothing you haven’t dealt with before. “I’ve been helping out around the house,” you say, trying to sound casual.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, “that’s not what I meant. You can’t be locked up in here all day. People will think you’re wasting your life away. I’ve been asking around at the town’s pageant commission, and they would be absolutely delighted to have you around to help us organize this year’s Teen Country Queen Pageant.”

There it was. Nothing your mother did was ever for anyone’s interests other than herself. If she had no interest in parading you around her pageant organizer friends, you were absolutely sure she couldn’t care less what you did with your days.

Right on cue, just before you’re about to give her a piece of your mind, your dad walks in. “What’s the long face for?”

“Oh, Hank, great! You can back me up here. I was telling her she needs to find something to do with her days. All this lazing around can’t be good for her. My friends at the—”

“Actually, I was thinking the exact same thing,” your dad says, surprising both of you.

“Really?” you ask incredulously. For all his flaws, your dad has never been one to meddle in your affairs.

“Yeah, Joel has been complaining about his front and back yard looking like shit since Cindy left.”

“Hank! Language!” your mom’s voice rises to that ear-shattering pitch she uses when she’s trying to be stern.

“Sorry, looking terrible since Cindy left,” your dad corrects himself, laughing it off. Sometimes he forgets he can only be that relaxed when he’s alone with you; your mom is a whole different ballgame.

“Um… Cindy?” you ask, drawing a blank on the name.

“The ex-wife. That’s not the point, kiddo. The point is he’s been whining about it for the longest time but is always too lazy to figure out gardening by himself. Then I remembered you were in the gardening club back in high school. It’d be nice of you to offer him some help. Poor man doesn't know how to keep a cactus alive.”

“Dad, that was ages ago. I don’t know if I remember much of it anyway. I only joined for my college applications,” you retort.

“It’s just a few plants and flowers here and there. How hard can it be? He even said he bought everything he should need for it but never got ‘round to actually doing it, so it’s all laid out for ya.”

Your choices were clear: spend however long it took to finish Joel’s yard while pretending you don’t have a massive crush on your dad’s best friend, or run around town with your mom organizing a beauty pageant. The decision wasn’t hard at all.

“I’ll go over and check it out.”

The walk to Joel’s house should’ve been short—barely a five-minute stroll up the road—but a nasty crack in the pavement had other plans. You were so lost in your thoughts today that you missed it entirely, stepping right into the trap.

Alright, maybe it wasn’t just today. You’ve been in your head ever since you first saw Joel standing at the bottom of your stairs. The way his hands had gripped your arms, steadying you, had left an imprint that you couldn’t seem to shake. And now, here you were, back in that same position, your mind consumed by this man who seemed to be as bad for your sanity as he was for your attention span.

So what should’ve been a walk up the road turned into a drawn-out pause as you sat on the sidewalk, waiting for the sharp pain in your twisted ankle to dull.

About ten minutes later, you finally make it to Joel’s lawn. You brace yourself to climb his porch stairs, pretending your ankle wasn’t bothering you, when you notice his garage door open. You hadn’t seen him from your previous angle, but as you got closer, the view of Joel's back muscles came into frame. And what a view that was. He was leaning over his truck, completely absorbed on whatever needed fixing under that hood.

For a moment, you just stand there, staring at the way his shirt clings to the sweat glistening on his skin. It takes a few seconds to remember that it isn’t socially acceptable to ogle someone from their front lawn, so you clear your throat and take a few more steps toward him.

“Hey” he greeted you, looking up from his work.

“Hey, yourself” you say back, playing it as cool as you could. It wasn’t a particularly hot day, but Joel's face glisten with sweat, as do his arms and you don’t not even want to think about what’s going on under that t-shirt.

“Come to pay me a visit?” he asked with a smirk

“My dad didn’t tell you? I’m your gardener for the day… or however long it takes to make your front lawn and back yard all pretty.”

Joel’s response is a breathy laugh, followed by him dropping his head between his forearms resting on the truck.“My gardener, huh?” he finally brings his eyes back up to meet yours. “Your daddy don’t know how to mind his own business, do he, sweetheart?”

Let’s unpack that. This man didn’t just throw in a new pet name you’d be replaying in your mind at any random moment of the day, but he also said it in that tone he seems to reserve only for you—or so you hoped, at least.

And that other word coming from his lips… you were aware people in the south used it more casually, without the connotation it had in your mind, but the way it sounded coming from him…

Oh, it made you think of a million ways Joel Miller could say the word Daddy in plenty of different contexts.

You quickly drop your gaze, hoping to hide the intense blush creeping up your cheeks. “I uh… I’m afraid not.”

The sound of his boots on the garage floor pulls you back to reality as he steps closer. “You don’t gotta do this, y’know?” His tone shifts, becoming more serious. “It’s no big deal, I’ll get to this mess eventually.”

You look up at him once again, more desperate than you’d like to admit. “Joel, I’ve been cooped up in my house with my mother and her pageant friends for weeks now. Please, give me an excuse to be anywhere else.”

A chuckle. You could live for those, make it your entire profession to earn them. You really need to calm the fuck down and get a grip if you are to spend the entire day around this man.

“Alright, then. If it’ll make you happy, I’m not gonna say no” says before turning back into the garage. He returns with a small crate filled with gardening tools and a few potted plants, setting them down on the grass. “Got most of what you’ll need here. Not much, but it’s a start.” His gaze drops to your ankle. “You doin’ alright? You’re limping.”

You wave off his concern, not wanting to admit just how much your ankle is actually bothering you. “It’s nothing, just a little misstep on my way here . I’m fine, really.” You flash him a smile you hope is convincing enough.

Joel studies you for a moment longer, then nods. “Alright, but if it gets to be too much, you let me know, okay? Last thing I need is you hurtin’ yourself on my account.”

“Deal,” you lie. There’s no way in hell you’re backing out of this now.

He gestures toward the mess of overgrown grass, weeds, and flower beds that haven’t seen attention in who knows how long. “I guess that’s the worst of it. Clearing out the weeds should leave enough space for these plants. Don’t overthink it, I trust your instincts.”

You take your first good look at the pots he brought from the back of the garage. “Oh, daisies! They’re my favorite.” You glance up at him, sweetness lacing your tone.

He pauses, something unreadable passing over his face. “ ‘Course they are.” He says, the corners of his mouth tugging up a bit. “Well, let me know if you need anything else. I'll be working over there.”

With Joel back under the hood, you set to work on the lawn. Despite the dull throb in your ankle, you find a steady rhythm in the repetitive motions—pulling out stubborn roots, digging small holes for the flowers, and patting down the soil around them. It’s oddly satisfying, watching the neglected garden start to come to life under your hands. You’ve always had a knack for taking rugged things and making them pretty.

Every so often, you glance over at Joel, who’s completely engrossed in whatever he’s tinkering with under the hood. The way his muscles flex as he works, the concentration etched on his face and how it makes him look a lot more serious than he ever is when talking to you—it’s hard to not get distracted.

There’s something about him, something that pulls you in despite your better judgment, despite every self-preservation instinct in you. Maybe it’s the way he makes you feel grounded, even when your mind is spinning out of control. It’s such a foreign concept for you, you’ve always been the one who has to defuse tensions, be the bigger person, manage the chaos. It’s never like that with Joel.

You’re careful to keep your ankle steady, not wanting to give Joel any more reason to worry. But as the hours pass and the sun climbs higher, you can feel the strain starting to build. Ever the overachiever, you push through it, there isn’t much left to get done in the front lawn anyway.

By the time you’ve planted the last of the daisies, you’re more than a little proud of yourself. There are still a few bare spots here and there and a handful of marigold pots waiting to be planted, but the lawn is starting to look less like a jungle and more like somewhere you’d actually want to spend time in. You wipe your brow, satisfied.

Joel must’ve noticed you slowing down because he calls out from where he’s working, “How’re you holding up? You thirsty?”

You hadn’t realized how parched you were until he mentioned it. “Yeah, a drink sounds good.”

Joel gives you a quick once-over, his eyes lingering on your ankle for a moment longer than you’d like. But he doesn’t say anything as he leads the way into the house, holding the door open for you.

The cool air inside is a welcome relief from the midday sun, and you sigh as you step into the kitchen. Joel pulls a couple of glasses from the cupboard and fills them with ice water, handing one to you. You take a sip, feeling the cold liquid soothe your dry throat.

You lean against the counter, trying to take some weight off your bad ankle. But as soon as you shift your weight, a sharp pain shoots up your leg, and you can’t hold back the small whine that escapes your lips.

Joel’s eyes snap to yours, his brow furrowing with concern. “You sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, Joel. I’m fine,” you insist, even though you know you’re not fooling him. “It’s just—”

“ ‘S that why you’re whining every time you put weight on it?”

“It’s just a bit sore. Don’t—”

Before you can finish, Joel’s on you in a flash, closing the distance between you. He’s careful but firm as he lifts you effortlessly, setting you down on the kitchen counter. “Let me see.”

“Joel, really, it’s not a big deal,” you start to protest, but the look he gives you silences any argument you might have had.

“Humor me,” he says, his voice low and steady. There’s a note of authority there that makes your heart race. There’s no disobeying him when he uses that tone.

You sigh dramatically, letting him gently take your injured ankle in his hands. His touch is warm, and the way his fingers graze your skin sends shivers down your spine. He inspects your ankle with a seriousness that makes your heart flutter, his brows knitted in concentration.

“This is more than a ‘little misstep,’” he looks back up, his eyes stern and serious. He slowly drops your leg, turning back to reach into the freezer and pull out a pack of frozen peas. He presses it against your ankle, holding it there with one hand while his other hand lingers on your calf.

It doesn’t take long for his thumb to start brushing up and down in a way that feels more comforting than it should. He starts adding a little pressure to his touch, the lingering touch from before turning into a massage up and down your calf.

Your breath catches as you look down at him, the way he’s so focused on taking care of you. The tenderness in his touch is at odds with the roughness of his hands, and the combination is making it hard to think straight. It’s even harder to keep the little sounds his touch arises in you contained, some of them escaping out of your parted lips despite your best efforts.

“Joel,” you start, your voice softer now, almost hesitant.

He looks up at you, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. His hand is still on your leg, his face overtaken by a dark expression you hadn’t seen on him until now.

For a moment, neither of you says anything. The air between you feels charged, like something unspoken is hovering just out of reach. You can feel it in the way his grip on your leg tightens ever so slightly, in the way his breathing seems to sync with yours.

And then, as if realizing where his hand is, Joel slowly pulls back. “I should get you back home, let you rest that ankle.”

You frown slightly, the way he spoke such a stark contrast to the tenderness of his touch still lingering on your leg. “I’m alright. I’m gonna have to be kneeling down for most of what’s left anyways, so I won’t be putting any weight on it.”

“No, it’s best if you just go. I’ll sort the lawn out later.”

The words hit you like a bucket of cold water. You’re left staring at him, confused by the sudden shift in his demeanor. Normally, your pride would keep you from asking, but something about Joel makes it impossible to let this go. “Did I… do something wrong?”

Joel pauses, his eyes softening for a split second before his expression hardens again. “No, you're fine. Thank you for your help, but I’m taking you home.”

He doesn’t leave room for discussion as he brushes past you, heading into the living room to grab his truck keys. Your chest tightens, the shame of the moment crashing down on you all at once.

Except… you didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t the one who was running her hands up and down his body, or pulling him close and throwing him on the counter like it was nothing. He did all that. He made you feel like something more was happening, and now he’s treating you like some desperate girl who threw herself at him, needing to be ushered out of his house as quickly as possible.

The ache in your heart is quickly overshadowed by a fiery rage, building more and more with each passing second. You turn sharply in the kitchen, your mind made up as you march toward the open door leading to the garage.

“Don’t bother,” you snap, your voice cutting through the silence as you head for the exit.

“What?” Joel turns around just in time to see you storming out.

You don’t even answer him, your steps quickening even as pain shoots up your leg with every movement.

“The hell are you doin’? You can’t walk home with that busted ankle,” he calls after you, his tone much harsher than it was just moments ago.

You laugh bitterly, not bothering to look back. This man clearly doesn’t know you and your stubborn ass well enough yet. “Oh, I’ll fucking live.”

Without another word, you push through the pain, taking it one torturous step at a time. Each step feels like defiance, a middle finger to your own pride and to Joel’s sudden coldness. But it’s better this way—better to feel the sharp sting in your ankle than the dull ache in your heart. The whole way home, you curse yourself for being so goddamn stubborn, even as the fiery rage keeps you moving forward.

Tag list:

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog , @untamedheart81 , @mellymbee

#dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel x reader #joel tlou #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #hidden embers

75 notes · View notes