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#the urge to protect and shield your loved ones??
cannibalcarcass · 22 days
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I need yall to know how unbelievably healing it is to see such a wonderful sapphic relationship so blatantly shown like I cried the first time I watched this show
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enha-doodles · 27 days
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please do a slytherin boys reacting to you being a hufflepuff pls
SLYTHERIN GUY'S REACTION TO YOU BEING A HUFFLEPUFF | ✧⁺。
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Pairing : (Mattheo , Tom , Theodore, Lorenzo , Draco) x reader
Notes : okay so now only Slytherin left and next will definately be an enhypen post , it's been too long since I posted something for them 😭
Warnings : not proofread , written in a hurry my bad guys
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MATTHEO RIDDLE
Mattheo's smirk widens as he gazes at you, unable to contain his amusement. "Well, well, well, my dear Hufflepuff," he begins, his tone playful yet affectionate, "aren't you just the epitome of kindness? It's like you're allergic to anything even remotely sinister." He chuckles softly, leaning in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "But fear not, my sweet, for I'll be your guide through the shadows. Together, we'll navigate the dark corners of Hogwarts, with your innocence as our secret weapon." He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
"Who knows, maybe you'll even rub off on this Slytherin and teach me a thing or two about being... less evil." He winks, his playful tone laced with genuine fondness for you. "But until then, let's just enjoy the ride, shall we?" You can't help but laugh at his teasing, feeling a surge of affection for the charming Slytherin who's captured your heart.
TOM RIDDLE
Tom rolls his eyes at the mere mention of Hufflepuff, muttering about the insignificance of a house that values kindness above all else. He's determined to toughen you up, constantly pushing you to shed your soft exterior and embrace the cold, hard reality of the wizarding world. "Kindness is a weakness, darling," he'll growl, his gaze steely as he lectures you on the importance of ambition and cunning.
He'd manipulate you by turning you against your friends because in his eyes you are born to evil that's why you ended up with him , your friends are the wrong influence "And those so-called friends of yours? They're just wolves in sheep's clothing, waiting to take advantage of your sweet nature. But fear not, my dear, for I'll always be here to protect you" He's there even if it means scaring away every potential suitor with a well-timed glare.
THEODORE NOTT
Theodore can't help but chuckle at the irony of your Hufflepuff allegiance, but it's all in good fun. He'll mock you mercilessly, recounting every Slytherin victory over Hufflepuff in Quidditch or other competitions. Yet, despite his teasing, Theodore knows when to concede defeat, his love for you outweighing any petty house rivalry.
"Alright, alright, my little badger," he'll sigh, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I may be a Slytherin, but you've got me wrapped around your little finger. Just promise me you'll stop bringing up that time Hufflepuff beat us in the House Cup. It still stings, you know."
LORENZO BERKSHIRE
He'll even go as far as pretending to roar like a ferocious dog lion - oh the irony , whenever someone gets too close, much to your amusement.
Lorenzo can't resist the urge to baby you at every turn, his heart swelling with pride whenever he looks at you. He'll hover protectively by your side, his arm draped over your shoulders like a shield against the world. "My sweet little badger," he'll coo, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll protect you from every danger, real or imagined. No one's laying a finger on my precious Hufflepuff, not while I'm around."
DRACO MALFOY
Draco's annoyance is as evident as ever, his aristocratic features twisted into a perpetual scowl (his resting face actually) as he begrudgingly accepts your Hufflepuff allegiance. He'll grumble about the stupidity of your house, his annoyance palpable in every word he utters. "Hufflepuff" he'll mutter under his breath, as if the mere mention of the word leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.
But despite his disdain, Draco can't help but crave the princess treatment you're all too willing to provide. "Fine, Hufflepuff," he'll huff, crossing his arms in a dramatic display of annoyance. "But don't think for a second that I'm not expecting extra cuddles to make up for it."
。    ✧    ⁺     。
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minhosimthings · 5 months
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Brooklyn Baby
Symphony smut series Day 2: Lana del Rey's Brooklyn Baby
Lyric: My boyfriends' in a band, he plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed
Pairings: dom!Heeseung × dom!Jay × fem!sub!reader
Warnings: Poly relationship, SMUT MINORS DNI, vibrator, double penetration, oral (f and m recieving), dacryphillia, degradation, reader wears a dress, mention of breeding, Heeseung fucks reader with a vibrator, edging, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (definetly not for you), threesome, kinda mean doms hee and jay
A/N: Day 2! I love this song with all my heart so I thought Jay would be the perfect fit cause duh, but then I was like why don't we make it a little interesting and add Heeseung into the mixture? Anyway this is my first time writing poly so please be kind everyone.
THE SYMPHONY SMUT SERIES MASTERLIST
When you took up the offer in college to be lead singer of a three-person band, you hadn't expected to become a celebrity princess overnight. What you also hadn't expected was for your two loving members, Heeseung and Jay, to become your loving boyfriends. A little bit of poly never hurt did it?
"Darling, we're going to be late if you don't hurry up." Jay peeked his head around the door, to see you applying your lip gloss all prettily around your lips.
The lip gloss he had gotten you.
"How do I look?" You turned to him with uncertainty. The dress was beautiful, one that your fans would adore. The makeup was also done to perfection by your '24 hour routine' as Heeseung called it.
"Beautiful as always." Jay responded, stretching his hand out to you, and twirling you around, relishing the tight fit of the dress against your waist, "I think engenes are going to want to steal you from me and Heeseung."
"Please." Heeseung's footsteps announced his arrival into the room, his eyes widening as they fell upon you, "They won't ever be able to do that.
"So protective." You wrapped your arms around Heeseung's neck, whilst Jay's stayed on your waist, "Are we ready?"
You looked into the mirror infront of you, where you all stood out perfectly in color coordinated outfits. A flurry of blues and purples perfectly describing your band's genre stared back at you in the mirror.
"Perfect."
"And now we have the overnight musical sensation! Please welcome Enhypen!" The host's voice boomed across the room, as you entered from backstage, both arms twirled in both your boyfriends' arms.
The audience applauded and hooted, cheering your names, the official fanchant over and over again and again.
"Well aren't they excited for today?" The host merrily laughed, as you sat down in between Heeseung and Jay.
"Well, welcome to the show! How are you feeling?"
"Nervous I guess." You answered with a slight chuckle, calming down as Jay's hand pressed on yours.
"Well of course! I believe you are excited for the live performance tonight?"
"Well of course." Jay responded this time. His perfume did smell good, you thought as you watched him speak with such eloquence. He did always have a way with his words everywhere.
"You're not ignoring me are you?" You heard Heeseung whisper into your ear, his hand creeping up to your thigh. You were thankful for the table infront of you which shielded the bottom part of your body, a part which Heeseung loved to touch.
His hand reached lower into your thigh, tickling your skin with his cold hands as he gripped them hard.
"And Miss Y/N!" The host said, snapping you out of the sudden urge to moan, "How would you describe your relationship with the boys?"
Great, you thought, another dumb question just for me.
"Um I'd say we're best friends." You nervously said. Revealing your relationship to the world wouldn't really be all sunshine and rainbows. "We've been friends since college actually, when we decided to form Enhypen. And well I guess we're close to family now." You awkwardly laughed to cover up the situation as the host moved on to the next question.
"And now, our dear audience let's get ready for the performance!" The host's voice boomed again, as the audience clapped their hands off.
A microphone and two guitars were all prepped and ready as you walked up, adjusting the mic to your level. Jay examined the guitar carefully and slipped it on, teasing the audience by playing a few notes on it, to which you heard girls scream his name. You smiled to yourself, remembering all the shit they wrote on your boys, all the fanfiction which they really thought would come true.
Hah as if! The boys belonged to you, and you only.
If only you knew what was coming for you after the performance.
"Best friends huh?" Jay pinned you against the wall, Heeseung's chuckles filling the room, as he slowly removed his belt and watch, "Too afraid to tell the world what we are darling?"
"Jay y-you know we can't." You reprimanded him, trying to take the upper hand. But only failure came to you at that moment, as you felt your thighs become stickier by the moment.
"Aww look at her." Heeseung chuckled again, "Our good little girl. Why don't we teach her a lesson, huh Jay?"
Jay smirked at you, going in for a kiss before saying, "Want her first?"
"Nah you have fun, I'll take her later." Heeseung settled himself comfortably on the loveseat facing the bed, his legs wide open in a manspread.
You felt shivers around your body as Jay, picked you up like a rag doll and threw you onto the bed.
"We don't need this, do we?" Jay toyed with your panties. The straps of your dress pressed tightly against your shoulders and Jay, pressed his fingers to your clothed labia, removing the underwear with ease and depositing it on the floor.
The shaky breath you took made Jay smile against your skin, the warmth of his breath crashing against your exposed flesh.
As his fingers slowly began to curve in and out of you, he came to kiss your skin, moving down with each kiss towards your clit. The sensation of his lips grazing the latter inevitably brought your hand to rest in his hair as you arched your back.
The room was dimly lit, courtesy to the closed curtains, but you could see Heeseung from the corner of your eye, smirking intently at Jay reaching down to your clit, one of his hands massaging the bulge on his pants gently.
Jacking off while Jay works his way through you, typical Heeseung, you would have scoffed if not for Jay providing heaven to you at that moment.
Jay's tongue made sinuous circles around your clit as his two fingers accelerated slightly. He knew which places he had to touch to make you produce the sweetest sounds, and he wasn't going to deprive himself of hearing them.
You can feel him grinning while he licks and swirls his tongue around your swollen nub, hands beginning to slow to a halt. His fingers pull almost all the way out you, causing your eyes to finally open and a noise of protest leaves your lips.
Your walls were perfect, taking his thick, long fingers into you so good. He curved them while making smaller and smaller circles centered on your clit, kissing and licking it.
Your hands gripped his hair more firmly, your breath quickening as the heat rose to your cheeks and the knot tightened in your belly.
And just as you the climax reached closer and closer, your mouth almost about to scream-
"Jay!" You cried, laying an eye on Jay's face peeking out from between your legs, "Why'd you stop?"
Jay chuckled and glanced over at Heeseung, who sighed and got up, striding over to you, the buttons of his shirt slightly opened, giving him a more powerful look
"Only our girlfriend deserves to cum, but you're not her are you?" Heeseung moved to the atmosphere above you, as Jay slowly collapsed on the loveseat where Heeseung had been sitting, "Remind me what she is Jay?"
"Our best friend." Jay said, an unusually sadistic tone to his voice, "Do you want the vibrator or will you be going in with your fingers?"
"Hand me the vibrator." Heeseung said, stroking your thigh with his fingers again, eliciting a mewl out of you, "You wanna use the pink one princess?"
"Don't ask her that you know she'll say yes." Jay's voice could be heard from across the room, as he dug and dug into the cupboard, "Aha! There you go."
A needy moan falls from your lips as Heeseung presses the pink machine deeper inside your pussy, whining a bit as it clenches tighter. Pleasure rushes through your core while your moans grow louder and needier.
"Aww look at her." Heeseung chuckles, "so fucking needy aren't you?"
He groans softly, biting his lip as he takes in the sight of you before him. Heeseung was never the one to keep his control. The vibrator slides through your folds absentmindedly, keeping you wet and needy. Heeseung's eyes darken a bit at the sight of your arching back.
"Fuck, princess," he whispers, kneeling on the bed closer to you. His free hand come to rest on your hips, sliding along, caressing your thighs, your curves in admiration and desire.
"How does it feel? Good?" he whispers, voice almost raw with need, "Do you want something better?"
"Fuck Heeseung!" You cry, feeling the vibrator switch to a faster pace, Heeseung pushing it deeper and deeper into you.
Tears falls down your face, the pleasure rushing through you almost being impossible to take. And yet, you didn't fuck two men at the same time to crumble so easily did you?
"Are you close, princess?" he leans his body over yours, whispering in your ears, "Do you wanna cum for me?"
“i-i’m gonna cum… fuck! Heeseung–!” you cry out, ready to tip over that peak until the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you was ripped away. "No!"
You whip your head around, glancing over your shoulder to see the shit-eating smirk Jay was wearing on his face.
“ah… i guess you really wanted to cum right?” he teases, one of his hands rubbing soft circles on his dick.
“aw… m’sorry baby,” Heeseung coos at you, his hands coming up to rest on your jaw. “but brats don’t get what they want, now do they?” he says, the grip on your face tightening.
“Think you can handle two dicks in your tight little cunt?” Jay teases, no having joined you and Heeseung in the bed. You've never heard him talk with such vile language before but you loved this side of him. “Yes daddy~” you moan out.
Skin colliding with skin filled the room, the sound bouncing off the walls.
With a loud moan you nodded, feeling how good the stretch provided by Heeseung's cock felt inside your cunt "right there daddy" you mumbled against the tip of Jay's cock before his hips slammed it inside your mouth once again. You couldn't help but whimper while his cock used your mouth, causing waves of pleasure to travel all over Jay's body who was harshly gripping a fistful of your hair as he deep throated you.
"You love doing this don't you, slut?" Heeseung chuckled, "Making us feel good?"
"but who fucks you better, huh darling?" Jay questioned, his eyes focusing on your face completely fucked out. Your ruined make up, your messy hair, the way your cheeks and nose were all red because of how roughly he was using your mouth and the sight of saliva all over your lips and chin made his cock twitch under your hand.
You moan around his cock with the sting of his condescension, feel Heeseung stiffen inside you with a rut of his hips, grazing your tender g-spot with the added swell. He stutters and curses, Jay grins through a breathy moan as he no doubt recognises the signs he’s seen a hundred times before.
"You wanna cum darling?" Heeseung's chuckle sounds like heaven to your ears, "What do you think Jay?"
"She's treatin me so good." Jay groans, feeling his cum in his belly, "Let her."
Heeseung nods, reaching around you to circle your throbbing clit with surprisingly firm and steady motions despite his impending release. He gets you there, bursts through the dam of white-hot pleasure with a final rut that forces you deeper onto Jay's cock, and the three of you come in an eye watering display of lust and synergy that shouldn’t be found in a group that says they're 'best friends'.
With Jay's cum dripping from your lips, Heeseung's from your post-orgasmic pussy, you wonder how you’re ever going to have sex again after this. Nothing could possibly come close to what you just experienced.
"Fucking hell." Jay collapsed on the bed on your right, while Heeseung did the same thing to your left, "That was good, wasn't it darl-" Jay's words stopped in their tracks as soon as they saw you clinging to Heeseung's bicep, and lightly snoring.
"You wanna get showered?" Heeseung whispered to Jay, "I got your favourite shampoo."
"Nah wanna stay like this." Jay answered, wrapping his arms around your waist, spooning you into comfort, "Family." He scoffed, "The only family we're ever going to be is when we fuck our cum into her."
"That's what I was thinking." Heeseung laughed, the three of you holding each other and collapsing into a cocoon of comfort.
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thewulf · 29 days
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The Quiet Between || Azriel
Summary: Request -Hiyaaa loved your Az story. So freaking good. I had one in mind and wonder if you could write it? Maybe some deep Azriel and reader angst? I'm picturing a scene where Azriel, drowning under his duties and secrets snaps harshly at the reader, our newest healer at the Night Court when she gently suggests he talks about what’s weighing on him. His words sting, making her doubt her role at the court... Read Rest Here
A/N: Whew this was challenging to write but I really love how it turned out! Please let me know how you like it below. And as always, keep sending in your requests!
Pairing: Azriel x Female Reader (Dawn Court Reader)
Word Count: 6.2k +
TW: Mean Az, Harsh Words (soft ending!)
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When Madja, the esteemed healer of the Night Court, realized the growing demands of her duties required an apprentice she petitioned the High Lord for permission to seek out a promising candidate. Her search led her to Dawn Court where your skills and unique approach to healing caught her attention. Impressed, as she often wasn’t, she offered you the chance to study under her. A chance to take over for her in a few hundred years. It was a proposition that both excited and terrified you. Normally you were more risk-averse but something within urged you not to let this opportunity slip by. Accepting the offer might be a decision you'd regret forever if declined.
Your arrival at the Night Court was a mix of awe and overwhelming pressure. You were acutely aware of the Court’s reputation with its warriors and schemers, and its dances of politics and power. Yet, as the years unfolded you found more than just acceptance. You found a place where you felt like you just might belong. Madja was an exacting teacher and under her guidance you thrived. Your skills became indispensable to the Night Court.
Mor, your favorite social butterfly, took it upon herself to integrate you into the Court's vibrant life. She invited you out with the girls to Rita's where the music and laughter helped weave you deeper into the fabric of Night Court society. Cassian with his easy grin and boundless energy offered to train you in physical defense. He said it was essential for everyone at the Court to know how to protect themselves. And even Rhysand himself showed you how to fortify your mental shields as a necessary skill amidst the intrigues that often played out around them.
Yet despite these warm inclusions, Azriel was the only one who kept a cautious distance. The shadowy spymaster was polite but reserved. He often watched you with a contemplative gaze that suggested he was trying to figure you out from a safe distance. His reluctance to engage was not overtly hostile but it was clear he held reservations. His own shadows clinging too tightly, perhaps, to allow another close. This delicate balance of respect and curiosity marked your interactions, or lack thereof, with the spymaster. You often caught glimpses of Azriel as his presence like a whisper in the vast halls of the Court. He was always just out of reach, both physically and emotionally. His aloofness didn't hinder your duties. But it did create a space of unanswered questions in your mind.
One cool evening in the Night Court the opportunity to bridge that distance between him presented itself unexpectedly. Azriel returned from a particularly grueling mission. His arrival unannounced except for the quiet clatter of his boots in the hallway of the healer's quarters. As he pushed open the door, the grimace etched across his face spoke volumes of the pain he was enduring, both visible and hidden beneath the surface.
You ushered him in, your professional demeanor in place yet your heart beating a tad faster with the realization that this was the closest you had ever been to him. His usually guarded expression was replaced with a rare, unguarded grimace of pain. It revealed a vulnerability he typically masked beneath layers of shadows and silence making you feel a touch uneasy.
"Let me help," you offered softly while guiding him to a seat where you could better assess his injuries. The proximity to him in this moment tending to his wound felt like an unspoken permission to finally address the silent questions that had lingered between you. It was an opening to understand the man who had so thoroughly perfected the art of being untouchable.
"Let's take a look at that," you murmur while taking his hand in yours. Your hands are steady and careful as you gently peel away the fabric near his wound. The cut isn't deep, but it's laced with poison, enough to have caused significant discomfort. “I’m sorry. This is going to sting.” You whispered as you rushed off to grab the needed supplies.
As you apply a soothing salve you notice Azriel's clenched jaw and the way his muscles tighten under your touch—not just from the sting of the wound. You've seen warriors in all states, and you recognize the signs of inner turmoil as clearly as physical injuries.
"Azriel," you start, your voice soft but firm, "even the strongest warriors can benefit from sharing their burdens. It doesn't make you weak to speak about what's weighing on your heart." You try and sound confident in your words, but it comes out as meek.
His reaction is immediate and sharp. It cut through the air like a freshly sharpened knife. Azriel's eyes snap up to meet your with a coldness in them that freezes you in place. "You think you have the right to offer me counsel?" he says with his voice low and biting. "You, who have barely seen a fraction of the darkness I have faced. Yet you presume to understand my duties, my sacrifices?"
You open your mouth to apologize. To clarify your intentions but he doesn't give you the chance. "No, don’t," he snaps. Cutting you off as your heart begins to sink. "Don’t patronize me with platitudes and naive compassion. You know nothing of the burdens I carry. Of the secrets that consume me. You see surface wounds and think to heal a soul scarred by centuries?" It was the most you had heard him speak and unfortunately for you those words made your heart nearly twist in two. Surely that wasn’t what you were trying to do.
Your eyes begin to burn. His words slicing through any defense you might have had. You look down instead focusing on the bandage. To hide the hurt that’s welling up, threatening to spill over. "I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—"
"Save your apologies," Azriel interrupts with a tone as harsh as a winter storm. "They mean nothing in the face of what I endure daily. You wish to help? Do so by not overstepping your bounds again." You drop his arm after finishing up removing the poison and sealing the cut. But he wasn’t done, no. You just wished he’d fly away instead of cutting you even deeper. You had no intention of offending him yet here he was, hurt by your very own words. You’d never truly felt like a helpless child in all your centuries until this very moment.
As he continues his words grow even colder, each one a deliberate stake right into your very own heart. "Understand this, healer. My life, my pains are not fodder for idle chatter or curious minds seeking to 'fix' what they perceive as broken. You cannot begin to comprehend the wars I fight within the shadows. Wars meant to protect you and everyone else here from horrors you should hope never to encounter." His words were final, offering you no chance at rebuttal. Not that you would have been able to find the words. Your mind was racing in horror about what had just transpired in your very own healing hall. You, the one who was meant to mend broken souls might’ve just torn his right back open.
He stands abruptly with his wound tended but the air around him colder than the stone walls of the court. His departure is swift, leaving a wake of silence so deep it echoes through the chamber. You're left alone with the sting of his rebuke more painful than any physical wound you've treated. His words replay in your mind as a harsh reminder of the chasm between his world of shadows and your desire to heal. Guilt begins to consume you as you replay the words that struck you so hardly in your mind.
The room feels overwhelmingly empty as you struggle to compose yourself. The impact of his dismissal weighing heavily on your heart. You realize that healing Azriel might be beyond your reach. Not for lack of skill, but because the wounds he carries are far deeper and more complex than you ever imagined. Perplexed and deeply hurt you find yourself grappling with a tumult of emotions. Confusion is the first to surface. You had approached the situation with genuine concern. Your offer to listen driven by the empathy that defines your role as a healer. His aggressive response, then, feels like an undeserved refusal. A dismissal not just of your words but of your very intent.
You replay the conversation in your mind, dissecting each exchange, each barbed word. His accusation that you, nestled in your world of herbs and healing, could never understand the scope of his darkness stings sharply. It's true though you realize. That the depths of his secrets are beyond your grasp. This acknowledgment doesn't ease the sting of rejection. If anything, it deepens the wound. You had not claimed to understand. You only wanted to listen. And yet, he had cut you off, leaving no room for reconciliation.
As the initial shock fades, a deeper, more persistent ache settles in. You're hurt. Undeniably so. Hurt by his insinuation that your attempts at comfort were trivial, naive even. Does he truly see you as just another court member? As just a healer? Naive to the true workings of his world? The thought is disheartening, and you feel a profound sense of isolation creeping in. A sense that perhaps you are out of your depth in this court of shadows and secrets. Perhaps your mother was right. You weren’t built for the Night Court. You had a wonderful, easy life in Dawn. She had even picked out a high-ranking husband for you that would’ve provided and kept you safe. Her nagging words pricked at the back of your mind as the last five years here almost fell all for nothing. Five years was no time in the world of fae, you knew this. You were still the new healer, but you had thought that maybe you were finally finding your footing here. But then again maybe you were wrong.
Yet, beyond the hurt and confusion there's also a glimmer of resolve. You're a healer, trained not only to mend wounds but to understand the people you treat. Azriel's outburst, though harsh, reveals more than his disdain. It highlights his immense burden. His profound isolation. Perhaps your approach was too direct. Too unguarded for someone so accustomed to concealing his emotions.
As you clean up the space a quiet resolution forms in your mind. You won't push him again, no, not without invitation. The sting of his words lingers, and you decide that perhaps the best way to handle this is to give him the space he seems to fiercely guard. He may have dismissed your concern today but it's clear that what he desires most is distance. Not the compassion you offered. In this moment of reflection, you recognize the complexity of healing. It’s not just about tending to visible wounds. It’s also about understanding when to step back. Recognizing that some scars are too deeply etched to be approached without consent. Azriel has his walls, high and fortified. And you, you decide, will no longer attempt to scale them. Instead, you resolve to avoid him, believing that distancing yourself is the kindest thing you can do for him right now.
This decision doesn't come easy. You're a healer, trained to offer solace and aid to those in pain. Yet, in this case, the healing you want to provide is not welcomed or perhaps even needed in the way you thought. You accept that sometimes healing means stepping back. It means allowing wounds to close in the solitude they were opened in. Maybe with time he will seek you out if ever he feels ready to lower his guard. Until then you'll focus on those who welcome your help carrying with you the lesson that sometimes the best way to care for someone is simply to let them be.
After the confrontation in the healing room the atmosphere at the Night Court seemed to shift becoming dense with an unspoken tension that hung heavily in the air. Azriel quickly became burdened by the discomfort of his own harshness. It wasn’t often but he felt an acute sting of regret. His words, sharper and colder than he had intended, replayed relentlessly in his mind. Each sentence an echo of a reminder of the pain he had inflicted on somebody so kind.
Late into the night he found himself wandering the quieter corridors of the court trying to clear his mind.. The stone beneath his feet was cold and unyielding much like the mask he wore so well. With each step he attempted to outpace his regret, but solitude brought no relief. The memory of the genuine shock and sadness in your eyes haunted him. A vivid image that refused to fade into the shadows where he so often retreated.
Why had he lashed out? Azriel questioned himself. His normally composed thoughts unraveling with unusual disorder. He knew the stress of his duties as the spymaster often left him on edge, a blade perpetually sharpened and ready. Yet, it was more than just the strain of his role. It was the fear of vulnerability. Of opening those darker parts of himself he fought so hard to control. Seeing your concern, so innocent and genuine, had somehow threatened the walls he had meticulously built around his emotions for centuries. He couldn’t become undone by your one simple question.
He hated himself for how he had responded to you. How his instinct to protect his inner turmoil had manifested as cruelty towards you. The more he thought about it the more he despised the part of himself that had become so adept at pushing others away, especially those who dared to care.
As Azriel continued his nocturnal wanderings the shadows around him seemed to whisper of solitude and sorrow. Yet, it was the sorrow in your eyes that lingered most prominently in his mind. He realized then that his actions might not only have hurt you but could also have damaged whatever budding respect or friendship could have grown between you. This thought tightened the already constricting band around his chest. He had messed up badly and he knew it. His shadows knew it.
Resolving to seek redemption, not just for his peace but to mend the fracture he had caused, Azriel decided he would apologize to you. He needed to explain to you. To make you understand that his outburst wasn’t a reflection of his feelings towards you but a misguided defense against his own insecurities.
His journey through the night didn’t erase his regrets, but it solidified his resolve. He would try to bridge the gap his words had created hoping that you would understand and perhaps forgive. In the quiet before dawn Azriel finally stopped walking, the decision firm in his mind. Tomorrow, he would face you again, not as the Night Court's daunting spymaster, but simply as Azriel… imperfect and remorseful.
As he moved silently past the gardens the moonlight cast a serene glow over the night-blooming flowers illuminating the path with a ghostly light. Drawn by the soft, muffled sounds of distress his shadows unconsciously steered him towards a secluded alcove hidden by tendrils of ivy and the long shadows of the towering trees. It was unmistakably you. His heart tightened as he approached. Driven by a mix of concern and a need to understand the impact of his earlier harshness.
There in the dim light, he found you seated on a small bench. You were not alone, but with one of the younger assistants from the healer's quarters he had recognized. The assistant, whom you often mentored, sat beside you with a hand on your shoulder. Her presence meant to support you as you struggled with a flood of emotions.
"I don’t know any more Helena. Maybe I just don't belong here," you whispered between sobs. Your voice shaky with uncertainty. Tears streamed down your cheeks unrestrained after holding them back for so long. Azriel's words had not just stung. They had acted as a dam break, releasing all the pent-up doubts and fears you had about your place in this illustrious court. "I keep thinking maybe I should just go back to Dawn. My very own mother always said I was chasing a fantasy coming here. Maybe she's right. Maybe a quieter life away from all this would be better for me. Maybe I’m not cut out for the Night Court."
The young assistant, Helena, looked up to you not only for your healing skills but also for your kindness and leadership. She listened intently. Her expression one of deep empathy and concern. "You can't think that way," she responded softly. Her voice earnest. "Everyone here, especially Madja, respects you so much. Cassian, Mor, even Rhysand—they all see how much you bring to our home. It's not just you’re healing. It's your spirit. You're meant to be here with us. Please don’t think like that. I’ve learned more than I ever thought possible from you. We need you here."
Her comforting words were meant to bolster your spirits, but the reassurance felt hollow against the backdrop of your raw emotions. Despite her encouraging tone, the doubts seeded by Azriel's harsh outburst lingered. They tainted your thoughts with shadows of uncertainty about your place in this world you had grown to love yet still sometimes felt alien in.
Azriel was hidden just out of sight. He felt a deep pang of regret as he listened. The raw pain in your voice and the sight of your tears struck him more profoundly than he had ever expected. He realized then that his careless words had cut far deeper than he had intended, not just challenging your confidence but piercing the very core of your sense of belonging. Knowing that an apology would be necessary but not sufficient, Azriel resolved to actively show that you were valued and essential. Not just as a healer but as a vital member of their community. His thoughts solidified in the quiet of the night. He would make amends, starting with a heartfelt apology and followed by actions that would hopefully restore your faith in your place at the Night Court.
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It was an ordinary yet busy day in the healer's quarters of the Night Court. You were deeply focused on tending to a young fae warrior who had sustained a minor but painful injury during training. As you carefully applied a healing salve the sound of urgent voices and heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.
"He needs help now!" Azriel's voice carried a tone of dire urgency as he burst into the room. He was supporting a limping Cassian whose leg was bleeding profusely from a deep gash surely laced with poison. These damn Illyrians always coming back with some form of poisoned injury. The sight of such an injury would normally have you on your feet and rushing over. But the presence of Azriel, the harbinger of your recent heartache, gave you pause.
For a split second your gaze met Azriel's and the memory of his harsh words and cold dismissal surged through your mind. You looked away as quickly as you could. Your chest immediately tightened with anxiety at the thought of what to do. It wasn’t fair to Cassian to ignore him, but you didn’t think you could face Azriel right now. Terrified of another confrontation and still raw from the last you quickly turned your attention back to the young fae before you.
"This one's in a critical state, I need to focus here. Helena, please attend to the General." you called out your voice slightly louder than necessary. The lie laid bitter on your tongue. It wasn't entirely untrue. His injury did need attention, but it certainly wasn't as dire as Cassian's condition.
Helena, who had followed in behind Azriel and Cassian, quickly stepped forward to assist, sensing the tension. "I've got him, don't worry," she spoke as she moved to tend to Cassian with a swift efficiency that you were grateful for.
As you focused intently on the young fae's injury with your back turned to the drama unfolding behind you, you heard every strained whisper and shuffling footstep echoed ominously. Despite your efforts to concentrate your mind spun with anxiety and dread. You knew your actions were a protective shield guarding you from a confrontation you felt unprepared to handle.
Behind you, Azriel's concern for Cassian was palpable. His usual stoic demeanor was pierced by urgency. His voice a low, constant murmur as he assisted your assistant. Yet, his mind was partly on you. He was troubled by the palpable tension and the rigid set of your shoulders. The memory of his previous harshness towards you weighed heavily on him, mixing regret with a newfound caution. He wondered if his actions had broken something essential. Perhaps fearing that your trust in him might be irreparably damaged.
Cassian, despite his pain noticed the strained dynamics as well. As your assistant worked on his wound his eyes flicked towards you, then back to Azriel. "What happened between you two?" he hissed under his breath not missing the unusual distance you kept. Azriel's silence was an answer in itself. It was filled with remorse and resignation. Cassian's frown deepened. Concern for his friends overshadowing his physical discomfort. "You need to fix this, Az," he muttered, firm yet worried. "She’s not just any healer. She’s part of this family now. She’s going to replace Madja someday."
Once the immediate crisis was handled and Cassian was stable Azriel made his way towards you. His steps were hesitant, each one heavy with regret. When he paused by your side his presence felt like a cold shadow. His usual warmth for his family became obscured by the barrier that had formed between you.
"Thank you," he said softly. His voice low and perhaps understanding more than you wanted him to. "For all that you do here." You sucked in a breath at his words. Was he apologizing? Was he sorry? Were you completely misreading the situation yet again?
You didn't turn to face him. Fear of what you might see in his eyes—anger, disappointment, or worse, indifference—kept you fixed in place. "Of course," you managed to whisper. The words barely escaping your lips. He sensed that this wasn’t the time nor place to dig deeper so he resolved to keep his words simple. He would find you later when you weren’t busy working. He truly needed to apologize to you.
After he left the weight of the encounter settled heavily upon you. You felt a mix of relief at having avoided direct confrontation and a deep-seated guilt for your evasion. You knew this wasn't just about professional duties. It was about the fractures within a team, a family you had grown to cherish.
Later, as the healer’s quarters quieted and the evening settled in, Cassian found you in the gardens, where the night’s cool air seemed to echo the chill in your own thoughts. It was your favorite place to relax and unwind. Your sanctuary in the chaos that was the Night Court. He approached with a confident stride despite his recent injury and his expression was serious.
"Hey," he started. His voice carrying a hint of his usual directness mixed with concern. "Things were off between you and Az today. He’s worried, and frankly, so am I. We’ve all had our rough patches, but we don’t let that drive a wedge between us. Yeah?"
You paused, looking down at your growing herbs rather than meeting his gaze. You let out a soft sigh before answering him. "I’m just scared, Cass. I’m worried I’ll say the wrong thing again. It’s like... I’m tiptoeing around landmines with him. How do I even start to fix that?"
Cassian nodded. His features softening slightly. "Az can be intense. I won’t argue with that. But he’s also one of the most upright guys I know. Just be honest with him. Tell him you’re trying to avoid making things worse. He respects straightforwardness. Always has." He took a step closer, lowering his voice. "And remember, it’s not just about avoiding the landmines. It’s about clearing the field. Start with the truth. It’s always been the best foundation for us here, no matter how hard it might be."
You nodded appreciating his words. He was right. The truth got you so much further. "Thanks, Cass," you replied feeling a resolve begin to form. "I think I’ll talk to him. Just lay everything out."
"That’s the way," Cassian said with a brief nod. "We’re all here together, and we keep no secrets... save Azriel,” He smirked knowing that’s likely what got the two of you in the situation in the first place. “At least not the kind that hurt. If you're honest, he’ll listen. And if there’s anyone who can understand the value of facing hard truths, it’s Azriel."
As Cassian left you to your thoughts the weight on your shoulders didn't lift entirely but you felt more prepared to face the challenge ahead. Honesty would be your approach; you would share your fears with Azriel, hoping that it would bridge the gap between you. After all, in the Night Court, even the darkest shadows were faced together, not alone.
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The next night you found yourself back in the serene confines of your herb garden where the evening light softened the edges of each leaf and petal. You were deeply absorbed in tending to a cluster of chamomile. The quiet focus on your plants provided a necessary reprieve from the swirling anxieties that had occupied your thoughts lately. However, your calm shattered when a shadow loomed unexpectedly over you. Azriel.
Startled, you looked up, only to find him standing there watching you with a curiosity you’d never seen from him before. His sudden presence was imposing and unexpectedly close and sent a rush of panic through you. His height and the intensity in his eyes seemed to fill the space making the air around you feel thinner.
"Oh! Azriel, you surprised me! I didn’t hear you walk over," you blurted out. A nervous chuckle escaping you as you hastily tried to gather your scattered wits. "I was just, um, focusing here, and—you know, plants don’t really talk back, so I guess I wasn't expecting any company."
He paused after noting your discomfort. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you," he said gently. His voice a soothing rumble. "I came to apologize. For the last time we spoke. I was too harsh. It was unfair to you."
Your response tumbled out in a rush. Your words tripping over each other. "No, no, it’s fine, really. I mean, not fine fine, but you know… I should’ve been more aware or something. I’m usually not this jumpy, I swear. Maybe a little—actually, maybe a lot right now because, well, you're kind of, um, imposing? And this wasn’t how I imagined our next conversation going..."
Azriel’s slight smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it did appear to carry a hint of amusement at your rambling. "I appreciate you saying that, but truly, I am the one who should be apologizing. I’ve thought a lot about what I said... and I regret it deeply. You didn’t deserve that." He took another step toward you as you stood.
You swallowed hard trying to steady your racing heart. "Why are you apologizing now?" you managed to ask feeling suddenly very aware of how close he was standing. The question felt bold, but your voice was anything but confident.
He took a slight step back giving you a bit more space. "Because I realized I might have made you feel unwelcome or undervalued here and that’s… that’s the last thing I want. We all need to support each other, and I failed in that moment. I want to make it right if you’ll let me."
Your mind raced with every thought, but you nodded feeling a mix of apprehension and relief. "I... yeah, I’d like that. I’ve been feeling a bit lost here. Like maybe I don’t belong. It’s been tough, and, well, your words stung. But maybe, I don’t know, maybe we can start over? Try to understand each other a bit more?" As you offered him a tentative smile the garden seemed to return to its peaceful state. The earlier tension dissipating slightly.
Azriel’s gaze softened with a rare flicker of amusement lighting his eyes as he noticed your unease. "You handle the complexities of healing with such ease," he commented with a slight tease in his voice, "yet you seem quite disarmed by a rather simple conversation."
You gave a small self-conscious laugh appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, it's one thing to deal with herbs and potions. They tend not to talk back. It's another to navigate apologies and emotions. Especially with someone who usually keeps his cards so close to his chest."
He smiled and it transformed his face, softening the usual stern lines. "Fair enough," he conceded. Then, his expression turned more serious. The playful glint replaced by a depth of sincerity. "I really am sorry, though. For everything. I know I keep saying it, but it’s because I mean it. I’ve been... difficult towards you these last few years. And I don’t want to burden you with the things I’ve carried. Of the decisions I've had to make. It’s not your weight to bear."
You listened, understanding dawning as you saw the heavy cloak of responsibility he wore. Something that was so integral to his identity yet so isolating. "Maybe not," you replied softly, "but sharing those burdens doesn’t mean you're passing them on. It just means you’re not alone with them anymore. We can share without it being a burden. Sometimes, sharing is how we heal."
Azriel looked at you with something like wonder flickering in his gaze. "I suppose you’re right," he admitted. "It’s just not easy for me. I’ve always thought keeping my troubles to myself was a way to protect others. But maybe... maybe I’ve been wrong about that." The conversation deepened as each of you explored the nuances of forgiveness and the strength found in mutual understanding and empathy. Azriel learned about the power of vulnerability. Not as a spymaster but as a man. And he saw how your empathy and gentle nature enriched the court in ways that strategy and strength could not.
"I've kept many secrets," Azriel confessed. His voice a soft murmur against the backdrop of rustling leaves. "Not because I enjoy the solitude but because I fear the consequences of those secrets unraveling."
"You don’t have to tell me everything," you assured him. "Just knowing that you trust me enough to admit you have these secrets is a step. We all have secrets Azriel. What matters is how we face them and who stands with us when we do."
Azriel nodded. The corners of his eyes crinkling slightly as he smiled. A real smile that reached his eyes. "Thank you for understanding."
You nodded but still felt a nagging question at the bottom of your heart. The gardens around you seemed to hold their breath as you voiced a concern that had been shadowing your thoughts. "Azriel, back when you... when you were upset. You called me 'healer.' Is that… is that all you see me as?" Your insecurity got the better of you. The question sounded so much more childish as you asked it aloud, but you needed to know the answer.
Azriel’s expression changed instantly. The regret in his eyes unmistakable. "Gods, I am so sorry, Y/N. I was angry and overwhelmed and I unfairly took it out on you." His voice was thick with remorse. His usual stoicism giving way to a rare openness. "You are so much more than just a healer to us, to me. I should never have made you feel otherwise." Seeing the sincerity in his gaze you felt a complex knot of emotions begin to untangle. Yet, there was still a shadow of sadness in your eyes. A remnant of the hurt his words had caused.
Noticing this, Azriel did something completely unexpected. He stepped closer. His presence enveloping you whole, and hesitantly, almost awkwardly he opened his arms. "May I?" he asked softly giving you the choice.
With a small nod you stepped into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. It was a rare gesture from him as he was known for his guarded nature. It spoke volumes of his regret and his desire to make amends. His shadows ever a part of him, seemed to curl around the both of you gently. A comforting whisper against your skin.
As you stood there held in his careful embrace Azriel spoke again, his voice gentler than you had ever heard. "I’m truly sorry, Y/N. For everything. I let my anger and frustrations dictate my actions and you bore the brunt of that. I promise you this, I will do better. You deserve better."
Pulling back slightly he looked down into your eyes, ensuring you could see the truth in his. "Thank you for giving me the chance to apologize, to make things right. I don’t take your forgiveness lightly."
Your heart that was once heavy with doubt and hurt now fluttered with a burgeoning sense of renewed connection. "Thank you, Azriel, for understanding, for this," you said, your voice steady despite the emotions brimming within.
This conversation that was once a tentative path to reconciliation had blossomed into something deeper. A genuine connection fostered by understanding and shared vulnerabilities. Azriel's willingness to show his softer side, to bridge the gap with both an apology and a hug, marked a new chapter in your relationship. One filled with potential for even greater understanding and closeness. Together in the quiet of the herb garden you both began to navigate a path toward healing. Your relationship strengthened by the honesty and empathy of your exchange. It was a tentative step forward. One filled with potential for deeper understanding and a strengthened connection.
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As the weeks turned into months, the atmosphere between you and Azriel visibly shifted. You both continued with your roles at the Night Court—Azriel, cloaked in shadows as the spymaster, and you, weaving magic and medicine as a healer. The sharp edges of earlier interactions softened replaced by a mutual respect and an unspoken understanding that grew with each passing day.
One evening during a relaxed gathering at the Night Court, the air was filled with the soft murmur of conversations and the warm laughter of friends and allies. Under the gentle glow of twilight you found yourself beside Azriel discussing something that excited you greatly—a plan for a new herb garden specifically designed for healing and restorative properties.
As you outlined your ideas your enthusiasm was palpable. "I’ve been researching some rare herbs that could thrive here under the Night’s eternal stars," you explained with your hands gesturing animatedly. "There’s this one flower, Lumina Blossom, known for its potent healing capabilities with poison but incredibly rare. I think with the right care, we could cultivate it here."
Azriel watched you with a soft smile playing on his lips as he listened intently. The usual shadows that clung to him seemed to lift slightly instead replaced by a light of curiosity sparked by your passion. It was a stark contrast to the brooding intensity he was known for. His gaze was fixed on you, clearly fascinated by your knowledge and the excitement that lit up your features.
"Have you considered adding Dawnlight Belle to your garden?" he suggested. His tone encouraging but slightly hesitant, as if he were treading on unfamiliar ground. "I've heard it's a good one. Especially for salves used in treating deep wounds, which unfortunately, we encounter often here."
You paused, your expression a mix of surprise and delight. "Azriel, I'm impressed you’ve heard of Dawnlight Belle," you said while nodding enthusiastically. "Yes, it's remarkably effective for healing deep wounds and incorporating it here would indeed be incredibly beneficial. It's also a bit of home but with a practical use for the Night Court."
Azriel’s smile widened slightly. His usual reserve melting away in the warmth of the conversation. "I thought it might be useful," he said softly. "It’s important to have pieces of home with us. And you’ve done so much to find your place here. It’s only fitting your garden does the same."
The conversation flowed easily between you as it slowly had come to. And as you spoke more about your plans Azriel's responses were thoughtful, showing his deep respect for your work. It was clear that he was not only listening but also truly engaged in what you were sharing.
As the evening wore on you found yourself more relaxed and open to discussing your hopes and dreams for the garden. Azriel's attentiveness and the sincere interest he showed in your passions brought a new depth to your interaction. A sense that something meaningful was blossoming between you, rooted in mutual respect and a shared sense of purpose.
Together you sketched out potential layouts for the garden. His strategic mind complementing your creative vision. The project that was born from a casual conversation was shaping up to be a beautiful symbol of regeneration and unity. It was a confirmation to the growing relationship forming between you as you both discovered the joy of collaboration and mutual understanding.
From across the way Cassian caught Rhysand and Feyre’s attention, nodding subtly towards you and Azriel with a wide grin. "Look at that," he chuckled. "Seems our resident shadowsinger has found a bit of light. Never thought I’d see the day."
Rhys, with a sly grin and a sparkle in his eye that matched the mischief in his voice, glanced over at you two. "Oh, I’d say there’s a bit more than just gardening going on there," he quipped as he leaned back with an air of casual intrigue. "Wouldn’t you agree, Cass? Feyre? It seems our spymaster might just be more enchanted with our lovely healer than he lets on."
Cassian laughed. His loud voice booming across the room. "You're one to talk, Rhys. Just don’t start planning their mating ceremony yet. Let them at least decide if they like each other first."
Feyre, who had been quietly observing the exchange from her place next to Rhysand, chuckled and shook her head. "She seems so good for him I must admit. But don't you dare meddle, Rhysand. We know how that turns out," she teased. Her eyes gleaming with humor. "Remember the Great Cake Incident of '49?"
The group erupted into laughter, including Rhys, who rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a grin. "Alright, alright, no meddling," he conceded. His voice still laced with laughter. "But for the record, that cake deserved better and meddling here would only help them."
The evening continued with the stars twinkling above as conversations flowed around the room. Your interaction with Azriel, now less guarded and more genuine, did not go unnoticed by those who knew him best. As the night deepened, the easy banter and shared smiles between you and Azriel spoke of something that was quietly strengthening. It was clear to everyone, even without Rhysand’s playful meddling, that something significant was blossoming. Something that went beyond the professional respect of two court members.
Together, you and Azriel discovered that even in a place as mystical and imposing as the Night Court, the true magic lay not just in ancient spells or hidden power but in the connections forged through vulnerability, trust, and perhaps, the beginnings of something deeper.
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sytoran · 8 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟏 — 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀
kinktober day 001 | CW!wanda x beefy!avenger!reader
after a particularly taxing work day, there's no better stress relief than your cute little bunny sleeping half-naked in your bed.
cont. mild non-con, vaginal fingering, begging, daddy kink
word count. 1390
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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"Fucking arrogant men and their fragile masculinities," you grumble in frustration, forcefully ramming the keys into the keyhole and unlocking the door.
It had been another hellish day of dealing with Tony Stark and Steve Rogers’ clashing personalities. The result of their foolishness meant a mission going haywire and taking about seven more hours than it should’ve.
As expected, you were pissed off. You shrug off your leather jacket, revealing a tight-fitting tactical suit, and then you kick off your shoes. Trudging up the stairs with your mind still in a fit of hazy anger, forcing open the door to your bedroom–
Seeing your pretty girl half-naked on your bed and deep in slumber.
You physically feel your chest relax, shoulders drooping as you exhale slowly. The burning heat that was fury subsides and the smaller flames burn in a different kind of lustful way.
Wanda was asleep in one of your old SHIELD shirts, which was about three sizes too big for her. Her cute, stiff nipples were poking through the fabric that was tight around her big chest, and the addition of tiny sleeping shorts made her all the more tempting.
"Bunny," you whisper, quietly crawling onto the bed, scared to ruin the serene silence.
Along the way, you unzip your tactical suit and toss it into a forgotten corner of the room, leaving you in just a pair of black boxer briefs and a sports bra. You puff out a breath of hot air as you slide into bed with Wanda, dragging the sheets over the two of you as your arms envelop your smaller girlfriend.
The little witch was the small spoon nearly all the time, not that you were complaining. You revelled in the feeling of enveloping Wanda in your arms, protecting her and keeping her safe.
Of course you also enjoyed the other benefits of having your hands so close to your girlfriend’s chest.
Wanda lets out sleepy little noises as she unconsciously shifts closer into your embrace, evidently still fast asleep with the slow rising and falling of her chest.
Her head fits under yours like a satisfying puzzle piece, her head of brown hair tucked under your jaw like it was meant to be. You lean down in the slightest to inhale her sweet scent of lavender soap, pressing a soft kiss on her head afterwards.
You can feel your residing anger gradually fading away, but the tension is still written between the lines and you can’t seem to erase them: in the furrowing of your brows or your tightened grip, in your uneven breaths or your racing mind.
Eventually, your hands creep up Wanda’s shirt, seeking that stress relief like it was second nature.
“Fuck,” you curse quietly, upon actively feeling Wanda’s lack of a bra, rough hands meeting soft mounds that you so loved to caress.
Today is no different, with you kneading her breasts, perhaps even a little rougher than usual. 
Fat spills from your fingers as your greedy hands seek more, the tips of your fingers pulling at her hardened buds. A low rumble sounds in your chest at the cute, affected noise Wanda lets out. 
However, she remains asleep, and you’re free to do whatever you please.
Soon enough, your mouth seeks out the sensation of warm skin, and your teeth find solace in the column of her porcelain neck. Leaving love-bites in different shades of red across Wanda’s skin, she stirs in your grasp, squirming slightly.
Your movements never cease. In fact, you get more eager at the prospect of your girlfriend waking up to such a dirty sight: you greedily groping her tits with your crotch pressed flush against her ass.
“Need you so bad, bunny,” you grunt, knowing Wanda can’t hear you, but having the criminal urge to voice out all the perverse things you were going to do to her.
Smoothly, one of your hands glide down the expanse of her torso and beyond the hem of her sleeping shorts. You’re met with the lace of a pair of panties — but nothing turns you on more than the growing wet spot you find that covers Wanda’s pretty little cunt.
“You’re so needy for me even in your sleep, hm, baby?” you ask heatedly, your other hand remaining up her shirt to massage her tits. It had been too long without having her like this, and you craved to memorise every crease of her lithe figure before your next mission.
Impatiently, you rub your fingers on that wet spot on Wanda’s panties, the growing slick making your fingers wet through the fabric. Your girlfriend emits little cries of discomfort at your unending teasing, turning in her sleep as your hand forcefully enters the threshold of her panties.
“Fuck, bunny,” you growl into her neck, two fingers finding her wet heat and then plunging inside.
It’s the sensation of your thick fingers pushing into her slick cunt that has Wanda awakening with a start.
“Y/N!” Wanda gasps out, high-pitched and breathy. You can imagine her eyes darting around the darkened room, only to register your vice grip around her body, one hand up her shirt and the other down her pants.
“Shh, bunny, go back to sleep,” you say, low and inviting. Wanda’s too sleepy to discern the affected tone of your voice.
“C-can’t sleep when y-you’re touching me,” she whimpers, velvet walls clenching the thick length of your fingers. She’s squirming so much in your grasp, but you’re so much stronger physically and she can’t get out of it.
“Sorry, bunny,” you lie easily, fingers still exploring her tight little cunt. “Five minutes, kay?”
Wanda lets out an incoherent whine when your finger brushes against a sensitive spot. “Too tired, Daddy,” she answers, adorably sleepily.
Yet, Wanda’s body instinctively attempts to arch off the bed when you harshly tug at her nipple, rigid to your touch. “Oh,” she moans, legs spreading wider unconsciously.
“So fuckin’ needy,” you repeat, your left hand thrusting deeper into her tight cunt. Your mouth is now on the juncture of her neck and her shoulder, a quickly purpling bruise making its mark. “Fuck, baby, let me make you cum, okay?”
Wanda tries to protest, the stimulation already too much for her partially unconscious body, but you take her shallow pants as a ‘yes’ and slide in another finger.
Wanda mewls at the intrusion, the familiar feeling of a tightening knot in her lower stomach making itself known. “Daddy,” she whimpers helplessly, fingernails clawing at your iron-hard forearm packed with muscle.
“Yes, bunny?” you pant, moving your three fingers in tight little circles, Wanda’s slick coating them. You were trapped in a headspace of lust, only aiming to make your pretty little girlfriend squirt all over the sheets.
“Please?” Wanda begs mindlessly, her desperate tone making your head spin. She doesn’t know what she’s asking for anymore; maybe it was for you to stop, or maybe it was for you to bring her to a long-awaited high.
“Mhm,” You take her plea as the latter, harshly curling your three fingers inside her tight pussy, your other hand flicking at her rubied nipple. Just like that, and Wanda lets out a choked noise of pleasure as she cums. 
Your grip on her never lightens as Wanda throws her head back onto your shoulder, thrashing as wave after wave of an orgasm washes over her body. Her fingernails dig crescent-shaped imprints into your forearm.
“My pretty girl,” you whisper, fingers continuing in slow rocking motions so Wanda can ride out her high. Her body is too warm under the sheets, lightning-sensitivity overtaking her body, but Wanda feels if she leaves your grasp she’d simply melt into nothingness.
You listen as the erratic breathing of your girlfriend gradually evens out. “Still tired?” you ask, the low husk of your voice raising goosebumps along the shell of Wanda’s ear. 
Wanda only uses both of her hands to drag your left hand back up her body and to her mouth. Grinding her ass into your crotch, her pretty lips wrap around your fingers and suck, suck her own juices off your fingers and into her mouth.
That’s all the confirmation you need before flipping the two of you over, pressing your body weight into Wanda’s front.
It was going to be a long night.
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so... how do we feel about day 1 of kinktober??
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
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blondwhowrites · 1 month
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idk if you got this request but my tumblr was glitching and idk if it didnt submit😭
So raccoon!reader who matt lshares but only lets theo fucks her due to matt catching draco masturbating to one of your insta stories-ANYWAY
Teddy is slowly fing you but at a good pase.But in your fucked out state,you cant help but fixate on his skull right-oh!and the snake eating its tail one is so pretty!
But it isnt your fault!it isnt your fault thst theo has many pretty things!even out of your anigmi form,you still have the urge to take!
So you cant help but hold his fingers,sneakily sliding it off him so matt who is watching doesnt see
When you and matt sre in his dorm,alone,he sees you wearing rings that certainly arent yours and makes you apologise to teddy :(
He could also catch you sliding the rings off of theo and idk man
In the warm afterglow of the night's activities, you snuggle into the arms of your loving boyfriend, smiling down at the shiny new, stolen, ring on your finger. It was a guilty pleasure—stealing. You truly couldn't help it sometimes. You saw a shiny thing and you just had to have it! It didn't help that Theo just had so many shiny things.
"Princess—is that mine?" You're startled out of your thoughts looking up to see Theo at the side of the bed, shirtless, and staring down at your new ring with a knowing look on his face. "Give it back."
Your eyes narrowed and you shook your head vehemently. You curled further into your boyfriend's arms—using him as a shield. "No!" You hissed clutching onto your ring covered finger protectively.
Theo rolled his eyes and leaned over, grabbing at your hand to which you squealed and used your other hand to slap his hand away. "It's mine now!" Before you could utter another word another familiar hand grabbed your finger and slid the ring off of it. You gasped and turned your head to look at your boyfriend who had just betrayed you.
"Traitor!"
Mattheo only frowned and lazily threw the ring at Theo. "Here you go mate." His groggy, sleep ridden, voice sent a shiver down your spine.
Theo barely managed to catch the ring being thrown at him. You let out a pitiful whine trying to pull yourself out of Mattheo's hold to go after it. Your boyfriend only rolled his eyes, and tightened his hold around you, forcing you back down against his bare chest.
"I hate you both." You grumbled reluctantly giving up on your mission and snuggling back into Mattheo with a huff.
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leaentries · 5 months
Text
shield | nico hischier
summary: nico is very protective of his girl, so when someone hurts her, he takes it personally.
warnings: protective nico, physical harassment, swearing, slight violent themes
wc: 1.6k+
a/n: another 3am nico fic 🕺 this one’s a lil bit heavier than most of my nico fics, but don’t worry! i have some new spicy things coming up!
the captain’s girl masterlist
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The bar was jammed. Sweaty bodies pressed into every corner of the bricked building, the heat almost unbearable. A door in the back, propped open was your only solace, serving nicely with the winter air wafting in. Although, despite the sticky air and stench of beer, you couldn’t be happier.
You stood by Nico’s side, practically glued to him, not that he would complain. Nico loved the feeling of your body against his, it brought him comfort knowing you were safely tucked away from the world. He was over the moon, still riding the high of tonight’s win. It was a solid win too. Nico got out with a 3-point night, his ego soaring.
Now, you would never admit this sober, but you loved when he got cocky. The way his body demeanor would change and he would have a special swagger in his step. The sexy smirk that never seemed to leave his face every time his gleaming eyes would settle down to yours. It was almost embarrassing the grasp this man had on you, but you loved every second of it. 
His dark shirt clung tightly to his sweaty body, the heat around you two making a visible impression. 
You sat next to him at a table with some of the team, celebrating their win. Seeing the wide smile on Nico’s face made you want to take everything bad in the world and toss it away. That way Nico could smile forever. 
His arm rested on your thigh, corded with thick veins, squeezed slightly, just as reassurance. You squeezed his hand back. 
“You know, I still can’t believe that Merc just left like that! I was in the middle of talking too. What an ass.”
You looked over to where Jack’s voice echoed. His annoyed face set on where Dawson was talking to some girl near the bar. You felt a chuckle rise in your throat, causing you to shove your face into Nico’s arm in an attempt to smother it. 
Nico looked down at you with amused eyes, “What’s so funny, schatzi?”
You let out a breath, shaking your head, “Nothing much, Neeks. Just Jacky.” 
Nico glanced over his shoulder at Jack, who was still complaining to his, very bored, little brother. He nodded his head slowly in understanding. When he turned back to the table, he noticed your tired eyes. 
“You tired, pretty? You’ve been awfully quiet.” 
This was true, but only because you enjoyed watching Nico so much. To you, that was more entertaining than talking. 
“Yep, I’m all good!” You gave him a big smile. Nico searched your eyes for any insincerity but failed to find any. Accepting your answer, he turned back to Holtz, engaging in a spirited conversation about certain plays during the game. 
After half an hour or so, your drink had finally run out, your empty cup now urging to be filled. You nudged Nico’s arm, gaining his attention. 
“I’m gonna go get a refill,” You shook your empty cup, proving your point. 
His brows furrowed, “Want me to come with you?” His eyes flickered to the large number of people, “It’s a bit crowded over by the bar.” 
You smiled at his concern, but denied his request, “No thank you, baby. I’ll be fine.” 
He hesitantly agreed, placing a kiss on your temple and a quick, “Be careful,” as you left. 
Shimmying your way through the dense population proved to be a lot harder than you originally anticipated, getting bumped back and forth violently. By the time you had reached the bar, you could have sworn you had whiplash.
Quickly flagging down a bartender, you ordered your drink and secured a spot to wait. You bit the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling uncomfortable by the obvious male gazes from every direction. You could only hope that one didn’t have the balls to approach you, but alas, luck wasn’t on your side tonight. 
A lean man, of about 5’8, approached you, clearly too inebriated to be thinking correctly. His scruff was patchy and gross, the tell-tail signs of a failed attempt at growing a beard. His red shirt loosely hung on his body, beer wetting the sides of it. At least, you hoped it was beer. He stumbled into the slot beside you, almost on top of you. 
“Hey, sexy. What’s your name?” His voice was grating, not a sultry tone to be heard. You found yourself repulsed by his presence, now desperately wishing Nico had come with you.
“None of your business, but thanks for asking.” You gave him a snide smile, hoping he would take the very obvious hint that you weren’t interested. 
“Whoa, attitude, missy. I just asked your name.”
“And I don’t care.” You rolled your eyes, the strange man not making an effort to leave.
“Damn, if you’re this feisty all the time, I know a much better way to put that mouth to use.”  
Fear pitted deep in your stomach at the dark look on the man’s face. Needing toi escape, you tried to make a move to leave, but he blocked your way, now caging you to the bar top. Your breath picked up in a panic, frantically searching for someone to help. It was far too loud to call for anyone and everyone around you was already preoccupied with their own conversations. 
Deciding to fight back, you lifted your arm to slap the man who was rapidly approaching you. His hand came up to grip your arm harshly, drawing a hiss from your lips as pain spiked through your wrist. Tears sprung in your eyes as you tried your hardest to free yourself from the man’s body. You felt helpless as your voice died in your throat, shutting your eyes tightly.
You prepared yourself for the worst until you felt the man’s weight abruptly leave. Your eyes shot open, seeing a blur of the man get thrown to the ground. The familiar figure of your boyfriend towered over the cowering stranger. 
Nico reached down, gripping the man’s collar, dragging him to his feet, and slamming him against the nearest wall. 
“What the fuck, do you think you’re doing?” Nico’s eyes were ablaze with fury, a hard look resting on his once-happy face. 
“I-I don’t know man,” The stranger was gasping, obviously terrified of the much larger man holding him to the wall, “I was just trying to get some pussy, like every other guy in the bar.” His meek words only fueled Nico’s anger. 
“Don’t you ever fucking touch my woman like that again. Don’t ever touch any woman like that. You’re a fucking pussy.” Nico’s voice was laced with disgust as he spat at the man. Holtz and Jack rushed over, attempting to pull Nico away. He dropped the guy, worry for you now seeping into his clouded mind. 
Nico was by your side within seconds, pulling your shaking form into his arms. He tucked you under his chin, tightly holding you, “It’s okay, schatzi,” He brought up a hand to cradle your head, “You’re okay. I’m here now, Nico’s here.” 
You let out a slight sob, your arms recoiling into your body as you gingerly held your bruising wrist. Nico pulled away, eyes desperately raking your body to determine the cause of your pain. Once his eyes settled on your wrist, he held out his hand, silently asking to inspect the damage.
Nico felt a new wave of anger take over his body, now practically shaking as he tried his hardest to not go beat the shit out of the guy. The man had hurt you. Hurt his girl. If it were up to Nico, that guy wouldn’t be breathing right now, but fortunately for the stranger, murder is illegal. Nico carefully guided your body to the exit, not bothering to bid goodbyes. 
Only once the two of you hit the cold parking lot and the adrenaline started to wear off, did you fully begin to comprehend the severity of what had happened. A fresh batch of tears formed in your eyes,  sobs rapidly pouring from your lips. Your body shook with the pure force of the cries that pierced their way through Nico’s chest.
He immediately pulled you tightly into his body, making sure to be mindful of your wrist. Nico felt his own tears well up in his eyes at your pain. He hated that he couldn’t help you, but he hated even more that he was in the building when it happened and didn’t get to you soon enough.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” Nico sniffed, “It’s all my fault this happened.” 
You shook your head against his chest, slightly pulling away to look into his deeply saddened eyes, “No, don’t do that. Don’t blame yourself for something you couldn’t control.” 
“I knew I should have gone with you. If I was there then he wouldn’t have hurt you.” He looked away biting his lip as he tried not to cry. His broken voice stabbed your heart. It was gut-wrenching to see Nico blame himself for what that man did. 
“Stop, Nico. It was not your fault,” You held his face gently, forcing him to meet your eyes, “Please, stop blaming yourself. I chose to go by myself, that’s not on you.” He opened his mouth to protest, but you were too quick, “Don’t say anything else. Please, for me? Stop.” 
He nodded slowly as tears silently slid down his cheeks. Nico reached up, carefully cradling your wrist that was near his face, leaning to place a sweet kiss on the black and blue splotches.
 “Let me get you home, schatzi. Wanna take care of you.” 
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Heyoo! Can i request az x reader where they're mates and vowed to each other that till death do them apart. But az started questioning if he would die for his mate ever since elain came into picture, bcos of the 3 brothers for 3 sisters thing. And reader sort of found out about az's feelings and wanted time off from each other. Then all of a sudden war broke out in the court and everything was crazy. Reader went out to look for az making sure he is safe when she saw an arrow shot towards him and reader took the hit for az. And az started to regret his doubt in thie relationship and begging for his mate's forgiveness. Major angst pls and the ending is up to you! Thank you and have a great day 💖
Scattered Vows.
Azriel x f!Reader
Warnings; way too much angst, mentions of death and battle. Mental illness.
Masterlist.
Uhm my heart broke. I think you will need a tissue box.
You watched the door of your bedroom for what felt like hours. A sigh escaped your lips, and you pressed your head on your mate’s pillow, his scent so faint like he hadn’t slept in your bed for weeks. And he probably hadn’t, you couldn’t remember the last time he stayed in bed for more than three hours.
The city was bright and warm offering a perfect view from the hill you were currently standing on. Your friends’ eyes were filled with tears as they watched you and your mate standing in front of the priestess.
“What do you vow to each other?” She asked.
“I vow to be by your side, protecting you and loving you until my last breath.” Azriel’s eyes watered as he spoke, his scarred hands grabbed your own and he pressed a soft kiss on your skin.
“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” You chuckled and Azriel smiled.
“May the Mother bless this union and let it bloom like the most precious flowers” the priestess shouted and started murmuring a prayer.
“I love you my angel” Azriel whispered.
“I love you” you whispered back as the tears streamed down your face.
You teared up at the memory. Those vows meant something right? Even though he reeked of jasmine when he came back, he loved you right?
You heard the door open, and your mate’s footsteps filled the silence, making you wipe your tears and sit up. He removed his boots to not wake you and you suppressed the urge to scoff, you slowly slipped out of bed and walked down the hall to find him.
He was standing at the middle of the kitchen watching the two cold plates on the table with a frown.
“You’re here” you noted, and he glanced at you.
“Please don’t start I’m not in the mood.” He huffed.
“Don’t start what Azriel? You stood me up AGAIN” you threw your hands in the air.
“Fine you want to do this now? Okay” he yelled, and you flinched.
Azriel had never raised his voice at you, it was one of the things you loved about him, how you could always talk things out without wrecking your vocal cords.
“Where were you?” You asked and stepped closer.
“I had to finish some reports” he replied and you stepped even closer making him back off, you quirked a brow knowing exactly why he did it and marched to him sniffing. Jasmine.
Your hands clenched into fists, and you growled “you were finishing off reports or Elain’s cunt?”
His eyes widened and he bared his teeth “don’t speak for her like that”.
Your heart broke into million pieces, every fear suddenly felt real and deep down you realized that the union bloomed like a beautiful flower, but in Elain’s garden.
“You’re defending her?” You gaped at him, your face pale.
“I can’t do this anymore y/n. Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows…” he trailed off and you felt like his feet were stepping over the pieces of your heart, crushing them into even smaller fragments.
“Go on” you whispered and let the tears escape.
“I’ve been thinking about Cassian and Rhys…they are mated with two of the sisters and I wonder if I should be mated to the third one. Three brothers and three sisters.” He explained and his eyes watered.
“What?” You asked him.
“I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…” he avoided your eyes
“You want to protect her until your last breath” you whispered and he nodded.
“Okay, please pack your things and leave.” You continued.
“Don’t do this” he breathed “I’m so confused, I’m not even sure if this is what I want. I just spend time with her to see if I’m really interested or if it’s just a sick thought”
“You want me to stay with you until you decide which one you want?” You gasped at his nerve.
“I-i don’t know. Can we just take a break? I won’t touch her I promise I just need some time to think.” He pleaded.
You felt numb, and an adamant wall fell on your side of the bond, blocking him entirely.
You just wanted to be alone, you didn’t have any more power to argue. “Okay. Pack your things and leave and we will speak again when you make your decision.” You lied hoping it will get him out of the house as soon as possible.
“Thank you” he gave you a sad smile and walked into your bedroom. The small cottage you two had built a few months before the ceremony felt empty and dull now as every promise of love died slowly.
You covered your mouth with your palm to keep the sobs in as you clenched your eyes shut and let the tears flow. Azriel reached the door with a small bag thrown over his shoulder and glanced back at you. You turned your back on him and waited to hear the door shutting.
“I’ll be back” he promised and left.
When you couldn’t hear the beating sound of his wings anymore you let it all out, a heartbreaking scream wrecked your throat and you dropped on your knees. Every kiss, every touch, every promise pierced your skin and escaped to the darkness of the sky.
You remained on the kitchen floor for two days, letting every feeling out hoping that it would stop hurting so bad. You reached a point of numbness, where even your love for him was dull now, cursing at yourself for trusting him. He had your fragile heart in his hands, and he crushed it into mist, without a care, without a hint of regret. You pictured him in her arms and rage made your body tremble, you despised her even though it wasn’t her fault. She sure was a wicked female for leading on a mated male but then again why should she care? He was the one who should have said no.
A booming sound pulled you out of your thoughts and you felt the ground shaking making you furrow your eyebrows and peek out the window. Velaris' shield was gone, you couldn’t feel the magic anymore and winged creatures descended from the sky, slaughtering everyone in their path. The autumn court’s banners emerged from the mountains, with an army behind them. You gasped and quickly grabbed a dagger, running out of the cottage and winnowing to the main square, Feyre and Mor were there holding swords and shouting at people to hide.
“Where’s Azriel?” you shouted at Feyre.
“He….” She paused “He took Elain out of the city, he’ll be back in a few minutes.”
You shook your head, not letting your family’s betrayal cloud your senses. They knew and they supported them, like you never existed.
You ran towards the creatures letting all your feelings out as you sliced their necks, your vision clouding and the image of Azriel flying Elain to safety was the only thing you could see. You crouched and placed your hand on the ground screaming, your eyes became white, and your power flowed out of you, destroying creatures and buildings on its way. You gasped for air and glanced around you, Azriel had landed a few steps behind you, his eyes wide as he stared at you and what you did. You noticed a creature lurking in the corner with a bow in its hands, it grabbed an arrow and pointed it to your mate making your face pale.
“Az” you screamed and ran… ran like your life depended on it, the arrow was shot, Azriel whipped his head to the direction, and you jumped, using the remaining power to lunge yourself in front of him. Silence, deafening silence, a cry, pain, fear and darkness.
Azriel watched the arrow piercing your skin and the tip emerging from your back.
“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.” It rang in his mind.
“I would even take an arrow for you.” He cried out your name.
"I would even take an arrow for you.” “Stop” he ordered himself.
“I would even take an arrow for you.” He grabbed his head, his hands covering his ears.
“I would even take an arrow for you.” “No” he screamed and started hitting his head.
“I vow to be by your side, protecting you and loving you until my last breath.” He fell on his knees.
“Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows… I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…”  Darkness.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Azriel woke up with a groan, he was in his room in the house of wind. He glanced around and noticed Elain sitting on a chair by his bed, her hand holding his own.
He stirred a bit and pulled his hand back making her flinch and open her eyes.
“Az” she whispered and tried to pull him in her arms.
“No! Where is she?” he shouted.
Rhysand entered his room and nodded at Elain to get out.
“Rhys where is she?” Azriel raised his voice again.
“Calm down, you need to rest, your shadows almost strangled you to death” his brother spoke.
“What? Why?” he gaped.
Rhys sighed “I went into your mind while you were asleep, you ordered them to strangle you because you wanted the thoughts to go away”.
Azriel’s eyes watered “Where is she? I have to go to her, I have to apologize. I need to beg her not to leave me”.
“I’m sorry brother, you’ve been out for five days. We couldn’t wait any longer so we buried her at the garden of your cottage”
“No!” Azriel screamed “No no no”
“I vow to always support you and love you. To always shield you from any harm, heck I would even take an arrow for you.”  “NO” he screamed again as his body started seizing.
“Lately I’ve been thinking about everything and especially our vows… I just don’t feel like I want to protect you until my last breath…. Because I can’t protect both of you at the same time…”  “Make it stop, please make it stop” he cried out.
Rhysand quickly moved to his side and grabbed his head making him go to sleep again.
“I’m sorry brother” he whispered and glanced at Feyre who was standing at the door, tears were streaming down her face.
“It’s done” she informed him and let him in her mind.
“Are you sure you want to do this y/n?” She asked you.
“Yes, this is for the best. Just tell him I’m dead.” You replied.
“Okay, please take care of her.” She spoke.
“I will, I promise to give her a place in my court” Eris nodded.
“Thank you” Feyre replied, “for everything, we wouldn’t defeat Beron without you”.
“It was my pleasure” Eris smirked and grabbed your hand.
Feyre let a tear slip as she watched you disappearing with Eris.
“Do you think he will survive this?” She asked Rhysand.
“I doubt it.” He sighed and they walked out, closing the door and locking it.
Sorry <3
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bblovetarot · 6 months
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{୨୧} Why are people attracted to you? + a Quote
ʚ ═══・୨ ꕤ ୧・═══ ɞ Pick a Pile ʚ ═══・୨ ꕤ ୧・═══ ɞ
i listen to music while doing pac, so i decided to put down lyrics down that i feel are important to the specific pile. let me know if it resonates!
i was listening to the miseducation of lauryn hill by lauryn hill
. ༄ paid readings . ༄
。°⚠︎°。follow your intuition when choosing a pile. if you're drawn to more than one pile, that's okay! you may have messages in more than one.
。°⚠︎°。tarot readings are not 100% accurate, and do not dictate your future. please keep in mind that you have free will. these readings are also general and aren't specific to one person, so please take what resonates and leave what doesn't!
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Pile 1
"you might win some but you just lost one"
People are drawn to your positive energy, admiring your ability to shake off negativity swiftly. It's possible, however, that you've encountered manipulative individuals offering empty promises and taking without giving. This may have hindered you from stepping out of your comfort zone to pursue your desires. You're likely someone who wears their heart on their sleeve, exuding compassion and love. Unfortunately, others may have taken advantage of your generosity, and Spirit suggests establishing stronger boundaries to protect your energy. Whether in friendships or romantic relationships, be discerning. Your commitment to connections is evident, yet you're also keenly aware when something impedes your potential. While you invest deeply, you won't hesitate to walk away when necessary, although this decision may take time. Your dedication, primarily to yourself, is apparent to those around you. Despite being caring and open-hearted, you refuse to let anything keep you in a low vibrational state for long. You're determined to rise above challenges, trusting in the universe to deliver what you deserve. You possess significant aspirations, and people admire your refusal to succumb to those who may want to limit you. Your persistence and determination resonate with others who see you as an inspiration. Your creative side, though possibly overlooked by yourself, is a gift meant to be shared with the world. The universe encourages you to press on, assuring you that your journey is not in vain. Even if you're grappling with recent departures or energy-draining situations, the universe urges you to persevere. Acknowledge your self-worth and creative talents, recognizing that your journey inspires those who witness your strength during difficult times. Your energy, though not always consciously recognized, radiates strongly, attracting people who genuinely appreciate you. Embrace your worth, rise above negativity, and trust that your dedication will lead you to the success you envision. The universe is continuously supporting your journey.
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Pile 2
"girls, you better watch out, some guys are only about- that thing"
Oh dear, it seems you may have encountered individuals drawn to your physical allure, making false promises of mutual connection while harboring ulterior motives. Your captivating and welcoming nature, combined with a lack of boundaries, can attract those who see an opportunity to engage with your vibrant energy. These individuals, often described as energy vampires, thrive on noncommittal behavior, utilizing others for their own gain and enjoying the thrill of the game. The universe is sending a clear message: establish boundaries with yourself. Not everyone deserves access to your fiery energy that breathes life into everything you touch. Fight for yourself, my love, and refrain from giving everything away indiscriminately. Recognize that your fire is a precious gift, not to be played with by those who lack sincerity and maturity. By setting boundaries, you shield yourself from burnout and unlock your full potential. Your generosity, showcased in your gifts and love, is admirable, but it's crucial to discern who truly deserves your precious energy. People may desire your warmth and affection, but establishing boundaries is key to maintaining the authenticity of your connections. The universe assures you that you can manifest the deep, meaningful relationships you dream of. Despite any doubts, know that you are deserving of love and the companionship you seek. Upholding boundaries is not a hindrance but a declaration of self-worth. Rebuild your self-confidence and continue the journey of self-protection. As you assert your needs and stand up for yourself, you will attract those who genuinely appreciate and reciprocate the love and energy you offer. Trust in the process, my dear, and believe in the love and friendships that align with the standards you set for yourself.
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Pile 3
"forgive them father for they know not what they do"
Pile 3, you emanate the essence of a healer. Whether in a profession that involves assisting others or simply through your natural inclination to help, people are drawn to your compassionate nature. Your emotional maturity sets you apart, allowing you to discern when situations aren't working and find compromises without resorting to chaos. As a leader in your own right, you stand firmly in your power, not reliant on others to pave your way. Individuals seek your counsel, finding solace in your wise advice. Your maturity is a beacon that attracts those tired of drama and dysfunction, as you offer a refreshing and comforting energy. You have the ability to make people feel welcome, particularly those who tend to isolate themselves. Your presence infuses life and joy, uplifting those who may be struggling. Your positivity is infectious, creating a ripple effect of happiness. Even if you possess a hint of shyness, your radiant inner light shines brightly, capturing the admiration of those around you. Your beauty, both inside and out, is truly remarkable. People are enamored by your ability to bring happiness to any situation, transforming the energy of those who may be feeling lonely or disheartened. In your presence, gloom transforms into light, and you serve as the beacon that lifts the spirits of those around you. Your light is not only captivating but also transformative, making you the radiant center of any group. People are undeniably attracted to the positive, calm, and surreal energy you exude. You are, without a doubt, the light that others are drawn to, and your presence has a profound impact on those fortunate enough to be around you.
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lovebugism · 7 months
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OK the fall prompt "rainy walks" got me thinking like... what if reader got upset about something and went for a walk and got caught in the rain, and ended up running into Steve who is just out walking and loving the fall gloomy vibe
ty for requesting! — steve runs into his ex while trying to escape a bunch of freaks and finds out you're running from something of your own (exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, tw mentions of toxic relationships, 1.9k)
fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)
Steve doesn’t usually smoke. He dropped that habit when he graduated high school and realized he only needed a cigarette when his group of asshole friends were around. He smoked because it felt cool mostly, but also because it felt good to be distracted from his lingering feelings of non-belonging.
Now he’s got people around him who make him feel like he belongs. 
It’s too bad they’re all a bunch of freaks.
After being cooped up in the Munson trailer all day, he thinks he’s developed something short of cabin fever. Desperate to get away, he swiped one of Eddie’s cigs and a forgotten zippo before heading out to smoke on the back porch.
He exhales grey smoke from his pink lips. It leaves in invisible wisps beneath heavy storm clouds. He thinks he hears a voice over the muffled sound of Dustin Henderson’s yelling. “Fucking asshole— who do you think you are?” the voice speaks, familiar in a way that makes his stomach ache. “Like, fuck you, dude. You don’t get to talk to me like that. No fucking way.”
He peeks around the corner, and there he finds you — an old ex from a lifetime ago that he hasn’t quite gotten over yet. His chest starts to tighten. He can’t tell if he’s happy to see you or utterly horrified.
You’re still dressed in your pajamas despite it being early afternoon — if an oversized t-shirt that certainly doesn’t belong to you can be counted as pajamas, anyway. It’s a white and red Metallica tee that falls to your knees, slightly frayed at the hem. 
It probably belonged to Billy before it belonged to you. If Steve had to guess, you probably stole it like you did all his shirts. He still isn’t sure what came of his favorite Hawkins Tigers sweatshirt.
You come down the road from the Hargrove-Mayfield trailer, looking like you left in a rush. You’re barely dressed and shivering in the cold, walking fast like you’re angry and desperate to get away.
You and Steve broke up a long time ago, but his heart still swells with the familiar urge to protect you.
“Are you okay?” Steve calls to you as he rounds the corner of the Munson trailer.
The crunchinggravel beneath your feet goes quiet when you still. Your head whips toward the sound of the familiar voice, eyes widening when you find Steve there. Your heart starts to race — not because you’ve just run into your ex, but because you’ve run into your ex who you kinda sorta ditched several months ago.
“Huh?”
“I asked if you were okay,” he repeats with a quiet, lopsided grin. He flicks the end of his cigarette with his thumb and tries to meet your gaze. “Sounded like you were giving someone a hell of a talking to.”
Your face flares with embarrassment. You shift your weight on your feet and cross your arms over your chest — partly to shield from the crisp cold but mostly to comfort yourself. “Yeah. I’m just— I was just talking to myself,” you stammer, flashing a wavering smile that doesn’t meet your eyes. “I’m good.”
Steve nods, then squints like he doesn’t believe you. “Okay… Are you sure?”
A laugh tumbles from your mouth. It’s cynical and bitter and utterly forced.
“Yes, Steve. I’m fine,” you assure with a bite to your tone, colder than the grey autumn around you. You smile through it anyway, like you’re trying to convince yourself just as much as him. “You don’t have to worry about me anymore. You’re not my boyfriend.”
Steve knows this. He hasn’t been your boyfriend for a while, but something about the way you say it makes his chest ache. He isn’t sure why.
“No, I know,” he nods quickly, shrugging with his brows pinched. “But I’m never gonna, like, not worry about you, you know?”
The empty feeling in your chest starts to warm. Your nails dig crescent shapes into your arms.
“Why?” you murmur.
“I don’t know. Because you were really important to me, I guess— you are really important to me. And that doesn’t just, like… go away,” Steve rambles, shier than you’ve ever seen him. He swipes an anxious hand through his cinnamon locks. The rouge strands hanging over his forehead fall back into place a second later.
Even though your boyfriend forced you not to talk to any of your friends, he wants to say. Even though you’re not mine anymore.
It’s been so long since someone’s been this soft with you. You’re not used to it anymore. You’d much rather him be mean because at least then you’d have a place to put all your anger.
“That’s… That’s nice,” you mutter under your breath like an idiot because you don’t know what else to say.
Steve takes one last puff of his cigarette, if only to distract himself from the awkward silence. He takes a deep breath in and tosses the stick to the gravel, exhaling the smoke as he snuffs out the ash with his sneaker.
“Where were you, uh— Where were you headed?”
“Nowhere. I was just… on my way back home.”
His brows furrow. He doesn’t bother to hide his concern. “Do you have a car?”
“Nope,” you answer with a sigh. “Still don’t have my license, so…”
“Still?”
You nod, scrunching your nose all sheepish. “I know…”
“We used to practice all the time!”
Steve’s golden laugh makes you smile despite yourself. “Honestly, I’m still a little scarred from when I almost hit that deer.”
He nods at the memory, quietly nostalgic and warm with it. 
That was on the way to Deep Green Cove, where the two of you were headed to meet his parents at their over-the-top lake house. He let you drive because he knew you’d been wanting to and thought the vacant countryside road would be easiest for you to practice on.
It hadn’t been.
And you did it all for nothing because his parents didn’t even show.
It was a good weekend, though. He can’t believe he forgot about it until now.
“Yeah, that’s fair, I guess,” Steve shrugs with his head tilted to his shoulder. “It took me three days to get you in the car again.”
“I’m pretty sure I cried, like, all night after that.”
“Yeah, my t-shirt still has tear stains on it, actually,” he teases with a boyish chuckle.
Your own giggle sputters from your mouth. You hide it with your palm — like you feel guilty about it. It feels good to laugh, though. To remember that you used to cry over stupid stuff like that and not shit that actually breaks your heart.
A fat raindrop plops cold on your shoulder. You wince. “Oh, fuck— I gotta go.”
“Let me take you,” Steve offers without thinking twice.
You stumble back when he steps towards you, shaking your head to dismiss him. “No. It’s okay.”
“C’mon. Just let me drive you home—”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m not letting you walk in the rain.”
“It’ll be okay—”
“You’ll freeze.”
You scoff a bitter laugh. “It’ll be better than what Billy does to me if he finds out I was alone with Steve The Hair Harrington.”
You say it like it’s a joke, and it isn’t, really, but Steve isn’t laughing anyway. His chiseled features twist in concern, like your words have somehow pained him. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing,” you answer, perhaps too quickly, laughing as you shake your head. “It was just— It was a stupid joke. I’m just being dramatic.”
“Are you saying he’ll hit you?” he wonders in a quiet murmur, far too somber than you’d like.
“No— what? No!” you stammer quickly, face as screwed up as his scruffy one. You start to ramble before you realize it. “Billy isn’t like that, okay? He’s just— He’s a fucking baby, and he’s dramatic, and I’d love to go one day without being fucking gaslit. That’s all. I’d rather just freeze on my ten-minute walk back home than have him berate me about hanging out with my ex.”
A few more raindrops fall. Spots of ashy gravel turn to a darker shade of grey. 
Steve grows quiet, letting the gentle cadence of water on tin roofs fill the silence. His chest aches all over again. He can’t decide if he’s sad for you or angry at Billy or grieving that he ever let you go in the first place. Maybe a mix of all three.
His hands tremble with the intensity of the swirling emotions, but it’s still in his nature to be soft with you.
“Do you wanna come inside?” he wonders, nodding back towards the trailer.
“To Eddie’s?”
“Yeah.”
“…No,” you answer with the shake of your head, face twisted like the offer offends you. It does, but only because you’re almost sure Eddie hates you now. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. If your best friend chose some asshole over you, you’d hate them too.
“No?”
“I haven’t talked to him in forever— I haven’t talked to any of you in forever.”
“It’s okay,” Steve nods, so gentle it makes you writhe.
“No, it’s not, Steve. I ditched all of you. I was awful to you.”
You don’t want his gentleness. You want him to hate you. You don’t deserve his warmth or the one inside Eddie’s trailer, practically aglow with the laughter of all the friends you left behind. You deserve the isolation. You deserve to stand in the rain and freeze.
“It’s okay,” he repeats, a newfound insistence in his tone like he wants you to really hear him. His bushy brows raise and his honey eyes sparkle, golden even in the grey. “We know why. We know it’s not your fault.”
You falter, swallowing through a closing throat. “You do?”
“Yeah. And we don’t— we don’t blame you for it, okay? For any of it. We miss you, actually.”
The crooked pink grin he flashes should comfort you, but it only makes you shrink inside yourself. “You’re just saying that,” you murmur, disbelieving and dripping with self-loathe.
“Ask Robin if you don’t believe me,” Steve tells you, smiling wider now. “Actually, she was just talking about how making fun of me isn’t as fun without you.”
You don’t want to believe him, but you glow with the faint hope that he’s telling the truth, anyway. 
“Really?”
“Really,” the boy nods, then grimaces when the light rain grows suddenly heavier. His brows scrunch as he holds out an arm towards you. “Screw your boyfriend, okay? Just come inside. We can take care of everything else after.”
You want so desperately to take the hand he holds out for you. Your fingers twitch at your side with the longing to hold him, but you don’t let yourself — even though it goes against all your human instincts not to. 
You’re made slightly braver than he had said we. “We can take care of that later,” he’d promised, a subtle assurance that you aren’t as alone in all this as you feel. But you often feel like you’re a black hole at times — you don’t want to suck anyone else into the mess you’re in.
“I don’t know…” you waver, teeth threatening to chatter when a breeze makes the rain colder.
“C’mon, before both of us get soaked—” Steve laughs when it starts to rain harder. All the clouds begin to pour at once. You rush to him before you can think twice about it. His palm is warm at the small of your back when he ushers you towards the trailer.
Beneath the high-pitched squeaking of the screen door, you hear Steve mumble behind you. “Dustin’s gonna fucking flip when he sees you.”
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sukunasweetheart · 8 months
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the urge to throw trueform sukuna into the shoujo manga genre....
(fem!reader, sexual undertones towards the end)
it would be so funny yet so beautiful...i also think he would look so great in that flowery, feminine kind of artstyle <3-
in terms of cliche shoujo love interest, he's a lonely immortal god who is against everything that supports the notion of love... until he experiences what true love is like, for himself. you're his little servant toy that he mingles with for some time, until he realises something's wrong with his heart...
i love him for what he is, but wouldnt it also be lovely to see him in a softhearted story?? the almighty and powerful, but grows weak in the knees all because of one woman!
one day, imagine if he, the most renowned selfish man, with complete disregard for others, who had always valued himself vastly more than anyone else, comes to a point where he sees you in the way of an unstoppable attack from the wrath of an enemy, and rushes in to tank the would-have-been-fatal strike in your stead...
it happened in an instant. he didnt even realise he was moving until he had already been hit. he's bleeding for the first time in a thousand years. he's hit, and it should hurt, it should feel unpleasant, because he certainly wasnt planning to be hit, nor did he engage in this fight for his own pleasure, but for your protection.
yet, he feels relieved. you're tucked behind him safely, looking up at him with worried eyes, and he feels relieved, all because a weakling like you is alive.
after he sends you away to uraume (who gives you the stink eye), he promptly kills the opponent but becomes a little weakened temporarily afterwards as a result of the powerful attack
he's absolutely grumpy about having to be bedridden for a few days for recovery, often stares down at you with unreadable eyes, like he's in deep contemplation about his own feelings
oh fuck me, he thinks, when he finds himself wanting to comfort you as you're in tears over him, even though he's the one that's hurt.
its a confusing sensation, feeling like shit but also not hating everything about being in the centre of your concerns. look at you, feeling so guilty, so worried sick, fussing over him. as you should. he mulls over the incident where he uncharacteristically jumped in to protect you... but he's not one to over complicate things for too long. he'll just continue to do as he pleases, just like before. and if that involves showing you some affection, kissing you, holding your hand, shielding you from his woes... then so be it. if he's the strongest, if he's a god, shouldn't he also be able to save such a frail thing as you?
he orders for your presence in his bed to keep him entertained, but he doesn't even say a word when you're there laying next to him, he's only just staring at you and giving curt touches, like your body is a plaything to him. maybe palms your thighs and breasts, but it doesn't feel sexual at all.
"it's not so bad, having you in my debt," he suddenly says, as sukuna plays around with a lock of your hair. these new feelings he harbors, intrigues him just as much as they irritate him.
"i do owe you my life..." you tell him in response.
"so you're aware. and? what will you do about it?" he asks you.
"i'm not sure, my lord... what would you like me to do?"
"how sly of you, turning the question back onto me."
he thinks about it for a moment.
"well, i suppose there's nothing you could offer me but yourself," he says as he slowly undoes your robe, the other free hand grabbing your face.
"...and your everlasting devotion, to me."
as he's about to sit up to continue, your tiny hand pushes against his chest in resistance.
"you mustn't exert yourself, your wounds are still healing, my lord," you protest, much to his annoyance.
"cease your fretting. movement of this degree isn't enough to hurt me," sukuna sighs, grabbing your wrist and pinning it down against the sheets.
"i... i can do the moving," you tell him with determination, which earns you can amused smile.
"...oh? now that's certainly worth considering," he says, slowly letting go of you.
you carefully get up to straddle the larger man, sitting yourself down on his hips.
"alright then, my brave little devotee. entrance me."
and you do just that for him, all throughout the night. (it wasn't the first time, and it certainly wont be the last)
sukuna learns all about how some fragile things are worth keeping around.
at first, the relationship revolves solely around his own pleasure and satisfaction. but as the ice begins to melt, he sinks into a trap in which he's seeking more and more to keep your own happiness and your beautiful smile in place. he begins to hurt when you're hurting. it was exactly as he feared - his life becoming molded around one singular person who's somehow crawled their way into his heart-- his heart that should've been sealed tight.
at times, when his teasing goes too far, and your bright expressions dissolve into sorrow, his own mood drops considerably and there comes seeping in a crushing feeling in his chest.
he lifts your face up by the chin and says; "i'm only joking. don't make such a pitiful face."
but when he realises that you were merely feigning your hurt, giving him a little cheeky grin, he flies into a quick, but playful anger.
"you little minx. i've spoiled you a little too much haven't i? you're getting ahead of yourself."
he proceeds to lift you up into his arms, an extra hand keeping your wrists together, as he aims to litter his bite marks down your neck and shoulder.
"aah! forgive me, my lord!" you exclaim, writhing around in his tight grip.
but there's an audible giggle in your voice.
Masterlist
tagging; @vagabond-umlaut @yuujispinkhair @satkuna @skunaskitten @sukunastoy @theprettyarachnid @sunshine7queen @gojos-thot-patrol
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ghost-proofbaby · 7 months
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my little scaredy cat
request: [anon] i would love to see watching horror movies with best friend!eddie and reader instinctively grabs his arm and hides herself against him and it leads to feelings and confessions haha
warnings: none! except it's unedited, which would be scary if that wasn't 90% of my writing on here lmao
pairing: eddie x fem!reader
wc: 3.1k+
i had a lot of fun busting this one out. it's just so cute and certainly how i wish i was spending my halloween! also, rest assured, i am also eyeing the other request you submitting anon. <3 happy haunting, my friends.
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This was such a stupid idea. Such a stupid, stupid idea. 
You’ve always been a scaredy cat. Everyone in your friend group was well aware of it – you loved the idea of Halloween, but your poor heart just couldn’t take most of the frights that came with the eccentric holiday. 
It was fine, most of the time. If anyone had the urge to plan out a day at a pumpkin patch, you were eagerly accepting the invitation. If anyone wanted to bake any sort of sweet treats laced with pumpkin spice or caramel apple flavor profiles, you were already in your car and armed with the perfect recipe to help them. Someone wanted to peruse the decoration aisles of various stores? Wait no more, the perfect shopping buddy could be found in you. You, who could handle most of the trivial and sweet aspects of the holiday. You, who divulged in the more aesthetic side of it all rather than the scary side of it. 
Your distaste of being jumpscared or unnerved by gore and ghouls alike only really caused issues when it came to your best friend, Eddie Munson. 
His taste in experience of the frightful time of year was entirely the opposite of yours. It’s not that he didn’t like decorating caramel apples with you or that he didn’t find your choice in decorations cute, because he did. But he liked the terrifying aspect of it all – he liked the adrenaline rush of fictional danger. 
And friendship, in all its glory, is about give and take, is it not? 
Compromise. That’s what he called it when he’d begged and pleaded for you to join him in a movie night. Because the moment the suggestion fell from his lips, you both knew he had no intentions of watching one of your usual festive movies that only teased about the creatures that crept through the night. PG-13 films that didn’t really do it for him. No, Eddie Munson had insisted you join him for a movie night, and you both knew exactly what kind of movie he intended to play. 
You just hadn’t anticipated the scariest fucking movie you’d ever endured for the boy beside you on the couch. 
“Shit!” 
Your squeak is muffled over by the crescendo of creepy instrumental echoing from the small TV across the room. A cycle had quickly been found during this movie night; the movie would fall eerily silent as a tense scene arrived, you’d tense every single muscle so hard that Eddie could feel you shaking from the other side of the couch, and then once the jumpscare occurred and your small squeals were let out involuntarily, his own laughter would follow. 
“Oh, come on,” he coos a little, leaning closer to the middle of the couch, still a fair distance away from your figure bundled up in blankets that were being used more as shields than anything at this point, “That one wasn’t even that bad!” 
“To you!” you snap, yanking the fabric back down from your eyes only to glare at Eddie rather than look at whatever grotesque was plaguing the screen, “I’m a scaredy cat, remember?” 
And oh, remember he does. In all your years of friendship, Eddie had called you that nickname more times than either of you could count. He never meant it with ill will, but it was easier to tease you than to admit just how adorable he found your small reactions. 
Easier to tease than to admit just how badly he wishes you would seek protection or refuge from him during the scares he put you through. 
His face falls slightly, but he doesn’t let his small grin slip up, not wanting to give himself or his twinge of guilt away, “I’m sorry, kitty cat. C’mere – I can protect you from all the big bad monsters-”
Eddie’s opened arms are only met with one of the pillows you’d stolen off his bed to make the couch more comfortable. It smacks into the center of his chest with deadly aim and ferocious power, making him let out an exaggerated oomph. 
“Fuck you,” you grumble, adjusting the blanket around your shoulders now that the scare had passed. You almost tack on a comment about how he’s lucky you like him, because you would never endure this for anyone else.
Robin had tried. Steve had tried. Nancy had tried. They’d all tried to entice you in the scarier, classic Halloween experiences to no avail. Every offer of going to a haunted house, or attending the premiere of the newest horror movies at the local theater, were shot down before they even finished their sentences. 
Only one person could break your staunch demeanor on your limits. And right now, you sort of hated his guts. 
Eddie softens a bit, watching the way you pout and curl into yourself just a little tighter.
“Sweetheart,” he finally drops the cool guy demeanor, his voice gentle as he leans over with genuine concern, “We can turn it off, if you really want. Hell, if you want me to, I’ll put on something in your taste. Little Shop of Horrors, or maybe Beetlejuice? Those don’t usually scare you.” 
The offer is enticing. But you have a point to prove. 
“No,” you sit up a little straighter, square your shoulders with a little more defiance and faux bravery, “No, you wanted to watch…” 
You pause, and Eddie smiles softly as he supplies the title of his film of choice, “Poltergeist.” 
“Right, yes, Poltergeist. You wanted to watch it, so we’re gonna watch it.” 
Your stubbornness is admirable. 
Even when it falters. Even when another jumpscare has you ever so slightly scooching towards the center of the couch, no longer pressed to the opposite arm from Eddie in defiance. Even when Eddie spreads his legs casually, and you bump your knee into his thigh, the slightest touch bringing immense comfort.  
Once you discover that, it all seems downhill from there. 
A press of a knee against the side of his thigh turns into your side brushing his. Suddenly, the blanket you’d wielded like a weapon becomes shared. Moments where you try to hold up a barrier between your eyes and the screen cause slight disturbances in Eddie’s own vision. And then, it happens.
The thing he’d been diabolically planning for years. The one scenario he’d dreamt of every Halloween season, the one intention he’d held secretly every time he’d put your through endless scares. 
The one touch that could send him into cardiac arrest. 
He almost missed it, it happens so suddenly. One moment, you’re just curling up a little bit closer to him. The next, your arms fully wiggly their way around his bicep, capturing his arm in your grasp as your face buries into his shoulder. He can no longer smell the buttery popcorn or faint chocolate on his breath as you invade his space. It’s all sweet shampoo and subtle perfume that tickles his nose, skin against skin in a quick flush as he can hear the vibrations of your predictable scream against the fabric of his shirt. 
You hardly seem to notice the sudden entanglement of your bodies in all your fear — your knees practically in his lap and your torso clinging onto his forearm for dear life. You’re acting on instinct, seeking out humane comfort without considering what you were doing.
When you do notice, you don’t let go, only slacken your grip. 
“Oh, I-“ you stutter, pulling back slightly to look up at a stunned Eddie, “I’m sorry, that’s- I just- I was scared and-“ 
“It’s fine,” he cuts you off, eyes blown wide, “It’s… it’s fine.” 
It’s more than fine.
His heart races in a way no horror movie or haunted house could incite. Every nerve ending tingles, everywhere his body connects to yours burning in delicious warmth. He wants to spend an eternity like this — you, curled up to him, clinging to him like your holy savior. 
Years, and years, and years of wait pays off. Patience is surely virtue as those big eyes of yours look into his. 
After a couple awkward beats of silence, you whisper, “I don’t think I like Poltergeist.” 
Just like that, you have him laughing again. It’s slow and steady, a gentle chuckle that stirs from his chest in disbelief as he tries to thaw from his shock and yearning.
“You think?” he breathes out, tone not nearly teasing enough to cover up the shakiness. 
He swears he can feel your heart pounding against his shoulder. 
“Don’t be mean,” you start to scowl, slowly unfurling. But he stops you — angles his arm so you can’t slip your arms away as easily as before, tilting his head in closer.
“Mean? I could never be mean to you, my little scaredy cat.” 
“You’re literally being mean as we speak-“
And so, he decides to stop speaking. 
It’s impulsive and an even dumber idea than you enduring such a scary movie to be around him. But you look so fucking cute, his heart is tearing up his throat, and suddenly his lips are on yours in his largest spurt of bravery to date. Even more brave than the time he’d made himself a human shield between you and that dude with a chainsaw at the local haunted house, despite the way chainsaws actually kind of made him shit himself.
You don’t fully reciprocate at first. His lips are pressed hard against yours, tips of noses crushed and eyes fluttered shut, and he starts to believe he’s made a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake that just washed years of friendship down the drain. 
Until your hands tighten on his bicep. Until that soft squeeze comes, and it feels like he can breathe again despite sharing the air with you. 
He breaks away for just a second, “I-“
“Don’t be mean,” you repeat your earlier words with entirely new meaning now. He opens his eyes and finds yours already pleading up at his face, glossy and desperate, movie forgotten. 
Those hands once squeezing his bicep let go and move to the collar of his t-shirt. Normally, he’d make a comment about you stretching it out, deforming the perfect fit that took him ages to wear in, but he can’t be bothered to feel anything but delight when you’re tugging him back in for another kiss. 
And the last thing he wants to be is mean. So he kisses you kindly, kisses you with all the care in the world that he had buried beneath his skin since the day he met you. Kisses you like it could scare away all the monsters that wait in the shadows. Like he’d lay down his life to protect you from the very frights he’d been subjecting you to for far too long now. 
“Hey,” he mumbles, pulling back briefly, “Hey.”
This time, his forehead doesn’t leave yours as he pauses the kisses. 
“God, Munson, I’ve waited for this God knows how long, sat through so many fucking scary movies, and you’re really going to-“ 
“Hold on, what?”
He’s grinning so hard, it aches. In his cheeks, in his chest, in the back of his head. Your words sink in and he relishes each syllable, even in your frustration.
“I- Uh,” you pull back suddenly, fingers still loosely tangled in his t-shirt, “I-“
“Enlighten me, sweetheart,” he insists, eyes finally fluttering back open to catch the embarrassment painted plainly across your face. You wear a nearly painful expression that only tightens as you know he’s watching you, “Just how many scary movies have you sat through wanting me to kiss you?” 
“Fuck off,” you sigh out, shaking your head a little, “I mean it. Fuck right off-“
“Cause I could probably give a ballpark number for how many times I’ve wanted to kiss you during them,” he continues on quickly, “Actually, I bet I could count how many times I suggested watching these fuckin’ films just for this moment only to chicken out.” 
Your eyes are open again in an instant. Sparkling with hope and realization of what he was getting at. “Excuse me?”
“Do you really think I’m that mean?” he scoffs, finally reaching up for your hands, surprisingly calm despite the delightful storm wreaking havoc in his chest. He takes your knuckles in his and lets his thumb trail right over them, “No offense, but if I didn’t like you, I wouldn’t have-“
“You like me?” 
Your voice is sweet as honey, bright and drowning out the horror movie still playing. 
He smiles, boyish glint and all, as he confirms, “I like you.” 
You put the first real amount of distance between the two of you since you’d started to cling to him out of fear, almost as if signaling that bravery beginning to bubble over in your chest, “You actually like me?”
“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”
“No, I- Well, maybe,” you bite your lip, and he’s suddenly dizzy with the need to capture it between his own teeth, “I just… I always thought you might like someone a little braver.”
His nose wrinkles, hands still twisting yours in his, “Excuse me? I think you’re plenty brave.” 
“Eddie, you’ve said it yourself, I’m a goddamn scaredy cat.”
“So?”
“So,” you persist, shuffling so that your legs fold beneath you and you gain some leverage over him, “You’re the exact opposite. You love scary things. Not even just during Halloween, but year round. And you’re telling me you like me even though I’m a scaredy cat.” 
“I like you because you’re a scaredy cat, thank you very much,” he corrects you immediately, “I love the way you always need me to protect you. I know, I know — not very feminist of me. I’m sorry. It’s just- it’s really fuckin’ cute, y’know?” now that his floodgates have opened, he’s pouring out all the words he’s held back for so long, “And besides, you’re more than just a scaredy cat. You’re also so smart, so beautiful, so funny. Yeah, you scare easily, but you’re also the same person who is the first to put me in my place when I’m being an absolute little shit. And don’t even get me started on all the cute faces you make when you’re talking about things you actually like, or when you’ve been baking with Nance and have flour all over your cheeks-“ 
“Okay, okay,” you stop his rambling before he can embarrass you any further. Any more affection, and your face might end up buried in his shoulder again, “I get it. You like me.” 
It’s quiet for a few moments. The two of you only stare, both smiling stupid, the screams of whatever climax occurring in the movie not even reaching your ears. All you can hear is the echo of his words, of his admission. And all he can hear is the pretty way your breath catches when he gives a small squeeze to your palm. 
It’s nice. It should be more anxiety inducing, it should be more dramatic. Eddie Munson should be absolutely losing his mind right now because he just kissed his best friend he’s been in love with for ages, but he isn’t. Actually, for the first time in a while, it feels as though he’s finally found it — he’s found his mind, he’s found his peace as he’s staring at your shy expression. It just feels right. Like a sigh of relief from the Universe. 
“I like you, too,” you break the silence, unable to meet his gaze, “I mean, you probably already got that, but-“
“Say it again.”
“Huh?”
“I did gather that, but my God, please say it again.” 
Your eyes meet him, and another piece clicks into place. 
Right. It’s so fucking right.
“I like you,” you repeat yourself, a smile beginning to dance on your lips. He can’t help himself — he leans forward and pecks the corner of your upturned mouth, “I like you,” the repetition is music to his ears as he plants a second kiss on your cheek, “I like you, Munson.” 
His peppered kisses mark every inch of skin available to him, making giggles begin to escape you. You even try to hide from his onslaught, but it’s no use. He’s quick to drop your hands and wrap his arms around you, tugging you in close and trapping you against him as each kiss grows more obnoxious. Loud smacking sounds, deliberately leaving spit behind that has you squealing. It’s nothing like the squeaks from when you were watching the movie; these small noises are filled with a little more joy, a little more happiness that only fuels Eddie.
“Eddie!” you try to scold, placing two hands on his solid chest, “Oh my God, stop it. You’re gross.” 
“You love it,” he mutters with his mouth fully pressed to your temple, nose buried in your hair. That sweet, sweet shampoo intoxicating him.
You like him. He didn’t fuck it up. 
You finally go slack in his touch, succumbing and letting him place you in his lap, curled up comfortably as you sigh, “Yeah. Okay, maybe I do. Whatever.” 
“Oh, don’t act all tough now, kitty cat.” 
Your hands are curled back in the fabric against his chest and you share the wonderful ache he had been feeling in his own cheeks and bones as you look down at him with playfully squinted eyes.
When he ducks down for another kiss, you stop him easily, “Nope. First, I have a request.” 
“Anything.”
“Anything?”
“Anything. Name it, and it’s yours.” 
“Please turn off that goddamn movie.” 
He throws his head back in laughter that shoots straight for your heart. The kind of laughter that haunts a chilled autumn night as children prance the streets for candy, as teenagers get into mischief in distant bonfire parties, as elderly couples enjoy morning coffees over eerie fog. 
It kind of feels like home. It kind of feels like everything is as it should be, finally. 
“I suppose I can do that for you, my little scaredy cat,” he muses as his head tilts back forward, chest swelling with affection, “Besides, I think I know something we can do that’s a little more fun than watching the Poltergeist.” 
“Oh, yeah? And what would that be?”
His arms tighten around you as he suddenly throws the two of you to lay down on the couch, his body hovering over yours and pick necklace nipping at your chin while he reaches out to click off the TV. The weight of him between your hips feels even better than either of your wildest dreams.
Years. You couldn’t believe it had taken years for this, and neither could he. But patience is virtue, and he probably would have waited another thousand years for this feeling, truth be told. 
“This,” he says boldly once the TV buzzes in sudden silence, dipping down and continuing where the two of you left off. Two sets of lips fit together like the world’s easiest jigsaw puzzle.
It’s safe to say the rest of the night, any further squeaks and squeals you let out aren’t due to ghosts.
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avoxrising · 6 months
Text
The Feral One • Chapter 3
Finnick x Reader
Series Masterlist Link
I wrote this on my lunch break to squeeze another chapter out for y’all! Enjoy :)
Content Warnings - panic attacks/breakdowns
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When the parade is about to start, the peacekeepers march you over to your chariot. They go to lift you onto it but you shriek, causing them to back up and aim their guns at you.
“Woah there,” Finnick states, slowly stepping between you and them. “What have I told you guys about touching her?”
“The tribute needs to be in the chariot,” one of the peacekeepers says.
“Can you uncuff her so she can pull herself up?” Finnick asks.
“No,” the peacekeeper grunts. By this point you are curled into a ball, doing your best to take deep breaths. Tears threaten to spill over and ruin your makeup.
“Hey hey hey,” Finnick says in a calm voice, crouching down to you. “I need to lift you into the chariot. It will be quick.”
You give him a slight nod as you stand up. He gets into the chariot, ensuring you can clearly see his hands the entire time. He’s probably flashed his prep team with all his moving but there’s not much he can do about it with the lack of clothes he’s wearing.
Tensing up, you let him gently lift you into the chariot. He’s careful not to touch you more than necessary. Despite basically living at your place, he always gives you plenty of personal space. However, sometimes you find yourself wishing he would stand the tiniest bit closer to you. He is your safe person, until your brain convinces you that he isn’t.
You nearly fall off the chariot as the horses lurch forward. Finnick grabs your arm to keep you upright and you go to punch him with your cuffed hands, only to remember that it’s just Finnick. You don’t want to hurt him.
“I’m sorry but you’re too pretty to be falling out of a chariot,” he whispers. You nod and do your best to wipe your tears with your hands.
The crowd booms as you enter their view with Finnick. Declarations of love for him are screamed while people shout vile words at you. Roses are thrown his direction, while you get hit with some small rocks and other hard objects. Finnick does his best to shield you but it’s no use.
You can feel him tense as the urge to protect you flairs up, but he can’t; not in front of sponsors. It’s bad enough that he’ll lose most of the sponsors once he allies with you in the arena. You both talked prior and reluctantly agreed that the best move was for him not to be overprotective in front of sponsors.
Another rock is thrown your way, this time hitting your cheek near your scar. That’s your breaking point. You can feel the heat rush to your head as your nails dig into the chariot. Finnick is panicking at this point. There’s no calming you down and you aren’t even halfway through the parade. If you make it back to the stables, he’ll have to sedate you.
You don’t remember the rest of the parade, or nearly attacking Linessa, or Finnick sedating you. What you do remember is the conversation you overhear between Gloss and Katniss as Finnick carries you to the elevator.
“So girl on fire,” Gloss says. “Though of any allies yet? Or are you and lover boy going to try to kill us alone?”
Katniss doesn’t reply but something must have tipped Gloss off to her potential allies.
“Those two?” he laughs. “Fishy and Feral? You’re dumber than I thought. Those two are sadists. They love killing people slowly, and watching the life drain from them. You’d be dead within two hours. Who knows, she might even eat you if she’s hungry. There wouldn’t even be a body left to bring back to your family.”
Finnick tenses up, having overheard their conversation as well. He carries you to the elevator and you fully pass out.
He’s sitting in your room when you wake up. His arms are covered in scratches and he looks exhausted.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t mean to.”
He shakes his head and walks over towards your bed.
“It’s ok,” he sighs. “Everyone is fine.”
“Is Mags fine?” you ask in a panic. “He, he said…”
“What did he say?” Finnick tenses.
“If I do anything crazy he’ll kill her, and you,” you sob. “I’m sorry. I can’t control myself.”
Finnick let’s out a long sigh and rubs his temples.
“Everyone is fine,” he states. “You didn’t break down until we were back in the stables. Barely anyone saw.”
“I don’t think I should go to training,” you state. “I’m not in control.”
“The peacekeepers informed me earlier that you aren’t allowed out of your room, for training or for the interviews. They’ve allowed me in here on the condition that I carry sedative on me in case you need it,” he explains.
“Mags?” you ask and he shakes his head. She isn’t allowed to visit. Finnick goes to get more ice for your bruises and you do your best to enjoy the remaining bit of sanity you have left.
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Prompt #1. Hands
Heyo thanks for requesting and waiting!
Summary: Soft fluffy morning with Astarion
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“Mmph don’t leave yet, my love.” Astarion mumbles, face still buried into your chest. You attempt to wriggle out of his grasp but he pulls you back in, holding you tightly.
“A little while longer,” you sigh. He lets out a little happy purr, shifting to a more comfortable position but doesn’t drift back into a trance. Instead, he takes in your warmth, loving how it warms him up along with the sun and finds himself mindlessly tracing patterns on your back on this quiet morning. Stealing little moments like this is what he cherishes most, and he wants more of these.
He loves watching your tired eyes flicker open, incoherent noises spilling from your lips as you struggle to fully wake up, the way your fingers grab the air whilst trying to find him. He loves the way your body relaxes when he slips his hand into yours, the tired mumble of what usually sounds like ‘good morning’, and especially the way you drag your body towards him just so you can flop onto him, burying your face in his neck.
His fingers find themselves entangled in your hair, lingering on the back of your head just so he can pull you closer and press kisses to the top of your head, relishing in a future Cazador tried so hard to deny him.
“We need to get up now, Star. The others need us.”
“They can wait,” Astarion huffs, but lets you worm yourself free from his embrace. He still whines about the coldness of the sheets now that you’re gone until you leave the room, then you hear the pitter patter of feet as he rushes to get dressed just so he can continue clinging onto you before the others steal you from him once more.
He wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling into your neck for his breakfast and feels you rest your hand on his, running your thumb over his smooth undead skin as he feeds. He takes in how your hand never leaves his for too long, always searching for a form of physical contact with him, whether it be for his comfort or yours he’s not sure, but he likes it.
He always gets lost in your touch, the gentle caresses over his face as your fingers glide along his skin, the soft kisses that follow suit, the way your hands fit in his like they were made for each other. He clings onto each of these memories, afraid that one day they will fade away like his past before he became a vampire. He’s terrified that one day you will stop doing this, stop loving him so gently, stop lavishing upon him all the love and care you can muster, but each and every day you prove his doubts wrong.
“Star?” Your soft voice cuts through his haze of thoughts and you gently squeeze his hand, snapping him back to reality.
“Yes, my darling?” He presses a kiss to your neck, resisting the urge to nuzzle you again. The spot should be sore and he doesn’t want to irritate it further.
“Are you alright?” Your eyebrows crease with worry, the soft look of concern sent his way. His heart skips a beat each time you look at him like that, no one ever looked at him in that way until you came along and every look you send his way is a reminder of what he never had.
Instinctive words bubble up to his throat — words that throw up a facade, words that form a protective wall around his heart, words that shield him from the worst — but he pushes it all down, swallowing them. He doesn’t need these words around you, you’ve proven that over and over again. What he needs is your open mind, your caring heart to reassure him that being vulnerable is alright.
“I’m…” He’s not sure how to phrase it. Is he alright? He’s not sure. After 200 years of not being alright, he’s not even sure of what being ‘alright’ is.
Your thumb gently runs over his skin, jolting him out of his thoughts.
“You don’t have to tell me now. Whenever you’re ready, just say the word and I promise I’ll listen,” you say with such softness it nearly brings him to tears. He nods, swallowing hard and closes his eyes, taking in the way you gently hold his hands, the way you let him wrap himself around you even though he could very easily kill you with a bite in this position, the way you entrust your back to him both in and out of battle.
“Thank you,” he whispers. “Can we…stay like this a little longer?”
“Of course,” you murmur back, leaning back a little to press against him. His grip on you tightens, soft sweet words spilling from his lips into your ear and you know he means every single one of them.
You turn so that you can bury your face into his chest, intertwining your fingers with his and let out a sigh of contentment, smiling up at him.
“Love you.” The words spring forth before you know it. He blinks, caught off guard, body freezing in place as his mind struggles to process what you just said. It’s not the first time you’ve said that word to him, but every time you say it you surprise him.
You. Love him.
Even after everything the both of you have been through, there are times he cannot wrap his head around this fact. He blinks away the tears that are beginning to form and untangles his hand from yours just so he can cup your face, lift your chin and press his lips against yours.
He still can’t bring himself to say those words back to you. He knows how much weight they carry when each of them are meant wholeheartedly and he doesn’t feel ready to say them yet. He tightens his remaining grip on your hand, wanting to remain close to you for as long as possible and presses his forehead against yours until the shouts of your companions cause you to pull away.
“Looks like our time alone is over,” you murmur. “Let’s go.”
He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before reluctantly letting you go, a hint of sadness in his crimson eyes.
“Don’t worry, I’ll always be yours.” You smile softly at him, giving him a quick peck to the cheek before checking on the others, but you keep your hand in his, grasping tightly.
His. Always.
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kedsandtubesocks · 19 days
Text
part of your world
Javier Peña x Mermaid!Reader
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summary: you know the surface is dangerous, but how dangerous can it be with a man this gorgeous
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Post Narcos Season 3, one brief threat of drowning, magic & fantasy, mermaid lore, light gendered language, soft!Javi, protective!Javi, major pinning & yearning, light angst, Javi and his use of nicknames, instance of violence/gun usage with blood & severe injury, heavy implied smut with spicy/soft moments
word count: 9.9k (i’m sorry)
a/n: our first fic of our mini mer-may series! this is my love letter to all of us who played mermaids in the pool & dreamed of a handsome prince waiting for us, I couldn’t have done this without @perotovar @burntheedges @saradika & @tuquoquebrute cheering me on… I can’t thank you babes enough! And to you, if you read this - I’m so thankful for you too ♡
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The storm approaches fast, looms in the air with a brewing quiet spark you can feel on your skin.
Yet the men in the boat continue to unpack, getting ready to sail.
You’ve been watching them since they arrived here earlier today. This part of the pier is your favorite to watch surface dwellers in the protection of the waves and the shadows.
It’s a quiet season this time around the Gulf. You’re even surprised the men are even out here. Two seem youthful, playfully kidding with each other. Most of them seem older, wear their age lines beautifully with smiles and laughter.
It’s why you love watching the land dwellers so much. The beauty of embracing their age among a turbulent world is admirable.
Or maybe you just enjoy watching these humans because one has caught your attention.
Older yet still young, a weariness floats around this man. He moves around with confidence on the boat and is incredibly beautiful. His deep dark eyes remind you of the earth’s soil. With a sharp jaw, nice facial hair and handsome nose - he’s unlike any human you’ve ever seen.
Cautiously and protectively, the man keeps an eye on one of the older land dwellers, his father possibly with how similarly they look. You admire that. He also makes sure all the fishing lines are safe and secure while the others talk with excited glee. But you ache to cry out in protest, urge them to stop because you sense what’s approaching that they might not.
“Maybe we should stay put, Pop.” Your handsome human says, and your heart jumps. Maybe he senses it too.
The man, his father, waves him off saying to not worry.
Dread fills you fast watching the ship slowly leave the port. Diving under the waves to follow, you just want to be sure they make it back.
The ocean shifts tempestuously. The boat isn’t even that far from the harbor when the storm unleashes its fury. The sea swirls in that wildness. Even among the waves you hear the screams from above.
Before you can reach the surface, someone falls into the water.
From the color of the shirt you know exactly who it is.
You swim as fast as you can to your handsome human now under the waves. Even for you, a strong swimmer, it takes a lot to fight against the surge until you have the man in your arms and swim towards the surface. Your tail thrashes strong against the current.
You keep the surface dweller pressed above you, shielding you from the eyes of the others on the boat.
The man you’ve saved coughs out the water as you try keeping him afloat while also staying hidden. Cries of joy erupt over seeing him.
The waves continue splashing against you making it harder to stay hidden. Then a loud boat horn arrives. Your eyes snap to the side.
A familiar red aid ship approaches.
Fear clutches you fast. They might see you. Then a wave rises high, and you can’t fight against the ocean’s power. It takes you and the man underneath it.
The water knocks you out a bit breathless. But you also see this as a chance to save this human then finally make an escape among the turbulent waves.
Securing him solidly in your arms, you swim back to the surface. With all your might, you guide him up to the shadow of the boat.
The yelling on the surface is loud, chaotic and frantic.
“There! There! I see him!” Someone cries. You support the man under the water, holding him up from the waves until he’s hoisted out.
While you watch him rise about, you sink below.
From the cover of the nearby rocks, you watch the rescue boats guide the main ship back to safety. Everyone scrambles to check on the man you rescued.
His father cries holding him and it’s a treasured sight. But you don’t miss the way your human’s eyes scan the water, almost frantic and confused -
Like he’s searching for something.
You try not to linger on that and instead descend back into the water.
-
Talk swirls about the boat saved during the storm and the man who fell overboard and survived.
You don’t want to embrace pride, but you soak in the nice satisfied truth knowing you helped.
But you’re tired, worn from the waves. You should have maybe stayed deeper under the water for the day. So after lingering around the dock, you move to a secluded spot beneath the larger pier. There’s a few sand dunes and you swim to rest halfway on one of them.
The sound of the waves soothes you. Slowly, you close your eyes.
“It’s you.” Until a human man’s voice arrives, and your eyes snap open panicked.
Off to the side along the coastline stands the man from yesterday, the handsome human.
In the sun’s glow, he’s radiant. But this is dangerous. He’s spotted you. After your wide terrified eyes lock with his, instantly you jump into the water.
You could have sworn you heard him scream out “Wait!” but you’re swimming too fast to even turn back around to check.
Even under the safety of the sea, your heart rattles wildly in your chest, erratic.
He saw you, that handsome surface dweller saw you.
-
There’s a warning tale that’s spread among your world.
One of your kind fell in love with a human, went to the surface and lost her heart.
She never returned, presumed to be dead. She became a haunting story told as a warning. That tale, along with many other frightful encounters, repeat over and over in your head now.
You shouldn’t have come back.
But you just had to check.
You vow this will be the first and last time.
Peeking out slowly from the water, you almost sputter out in panicked surprise.
That man sits on the shoreline. He’s waiting.
He’s alone or seems alone, and even brought a full pack of items.
His lovely deep eyes continue scanning the waves.
Is he looking for you?
He has to be. But are his intentions pure is the true question.
Staring at him this long becomes your downfall. His rich soil eyes catch you. Immediately the man bolts up, and you drop just below the surface.
“I saw you!”
Just barely below the waves, you can hear his voice a bit waterlogged.
“Please. I promise I won’t hurt you.” He urges.
You don’t know if you can trust him.
But wanting to make sure, you pop your head up just a bit. His eyes are gems, precious dark gems shimmering bright and vibrant when he sees you. You ache to swim closer.
“You’re real.” He exhales out.
You simply stare at him.
“Can you understand me?” He asks a bit slowly.
Deciding to be braver, you rise up more from the water.
“Maybe.” You answer then watch as the man stumbles back stunned.
“You…you can talk.” He stammers.
You decide to be coy and simply shrug.
“What are you?” The man presses.
That’s the line. You’ve already done too much. You shouldn’t have come at all.
“Javi! Javier? Hey, primo, where d’ya go?” Someone calls and the surface dweller turns.
That’s his name.
Javier.
It’s perfect.
But someone else approaches, and it’s enough to terrify you. Sinking back into the water, you linger again just below.
You hear the man, Javier, cry out another loud “wait!”
More voices come and tease Javier.
“Mijo survived the sea and now can’t get enough of it.” Someone teases goodnaturedly.
Soon all the voices announce they’re heading back.
“Uh, give me a few. I’ll head back in a minute.” Javier replies.
The voices leave, but you still refuse to rise above.
“I hope you’re still here.” He says. Fear clutches at you wondering if you’re visible from the surface.
“Or fuck, maybe I just hope you are.” Javier sighs.
Then a moment passes.
“I just… just wanted to say thank you.” His voice even under the water is sincere, deeply earnest.
You’ve never once thought you would ever hear a human thank you and so sincerely. Before you can stop yourself, you rise up fast out of the water. But he’s gone.
The next morning you swim to that same spot.
Your throat feels tight when you already see him walking down the beach as well. And once you and him spot each other it feels like the world melts a bit.
This time you also swim and stay a little closer to the shore line.
“You came back.” Javier mutters in disbelief.
“So did you.” You reply back.
This is the most you’ve ever spoken with a land dweller.
“Thank you.” Javier breathes out. “For saving my life.”
You nod.
“Are you feeling better?” You ask, knowing humans have an unfortunate condition of experiencing a delayed drowning within their lungs.
“Oh yeah, I’m good.” Javier nods. “Apparently the medics and coast guards still can’t understand how I managed to make it out pretty good but…”
His eyes twinkle looking at you, and a prickly like sensation sparks across your skin
“I thought I was seeing shit when I saw you.” He mutters. “You looked like something out of a dream.”
The waves keep you afloat, but you feel weak.
You even softly smile back to him.
“It’s understandable. Most of your kind think we’re manatees afterall.” You tell him and Javi’s eyebrows shoot up.
“So you really are a mermaid?” Javier blurts out.
You never fully understood where that name came from. You simply shrug a bit playful and enjoy the amused snort of a sound Javier gives.
“Well, whatever you are, I owe you my fucking life.” He exhales, and again his words dig deep into the core of your being.
The tiniest smile tugs at your lips.
“So do you just hang around and what, save unfortunate guys like me that go overboard?” Javi asks moving to sit on the sand.
He wants to stay and talk with you. You swim just a bit closer.
You shake your head no, unfortunately telling him you often stay hidden.
“We’re not meant to communicate with others on land, much less be seen by them.” This is already one of the worst offenses.
But you’re too far gone, and you know that.
His beautiful face scrunches up. “So then why did you save me if you aren’t supposed to?”
You couldn’t reveal it’s because of how you were immediately drawn to him. Instead your heart speaks faster as you shrug.
“I can’t really tell you why, I just knew I had to. I could sense the storm coming and just…I happened to be at the right place at the right time I guess.”
You knew how foolish surface dwellers could be. Yet, there was something weathered but compassionate about Javier.
His face flickers while his mouth drops. You don’t know if you’ve said something wrong.
Then a bashful half grin tugs at Javier’s soft lips, and your heart feels light like the sunbeams on the waves.
“I’m Javier.” He blurts out, and you grin.
“Javi.” You repeat the nickname you heard used for him.
A surprised twinkle flashing in his eyes colors him youthful, and he smiles bright.
“Yeah,” He nods. “So what’s your name? Can I at least know that?”
This is a point of no return, and you’re already this far.
So among the warm waves, you give your name to him freely.
The way his face lights up hearing it is incredible. Then hearing him repeat your name back, breathing it from his lips, feels sacred.
Everyday after that you meet him at this same spot either early in the warm morning or in the soft evening breeze when he’s done with his day. You learn he’s staying here with his father for a month to visit family.
“My Tío,” he explains. “He’s been needing some help around his place. So my dad and I decided to just enjoy some time out here.”
It means your time with him is limited, precious, a pearl you just found from an oyster that you want to hoard now.
As curious as you are about him, it’s no surprise Javier is just as eager to ask questions.
“Do you have a uh…family I guess nearby?”
“No.” You answer him truthfully, wistfully. “I haven’t seen them in a while.”
It’s been many moon cycles since you left home.
“Wait, why?” Javier’s face frowns as the sea breeze tussles his hair. Your fingers ache to already brush it aside.
“They were going to force me to marry another of my kind, someone I didn’t care for. And I couldn’t handle it. So I left.” You simply tell him the truth.
You wanted a choice, that’s all. But your family refused to allow you that.
“Oh… I’m sorry.” His voice, gentle and kind, feels like a warm morning glow.
“Must be lonely out here.” He adds a bit sorrowful, almost aching.
Your eyes can’t handle how soft, how piercing his gaze bores into yours. So you glance to the ocean now. The sun reflects like glass onto the waves. When you first started visiting the surface, you reasoned it was to understand land dwellers more. However, in your heart you know it’s because of the loneliness.
Laughter, vibrant music, the smell of delicious food, the ache of belonging, it all swirls from the shoreline almost beckoning to you.
“Sometimes,” you finally answer Javier. “But it’s alright. The sea provides.”
The saying you were raised with still rings out true.
The sea brought you here and brought you to him.
And it’s something special.
During an early morning, Javier approaches the water this time. Normally he stays on the shoreline. You’ve been the one creeping closer and closer through the water towards him.
Now you’re stunned.
He’s bare chested and wears swimming shorts you’ve seen other surface dwellers wear among the waves. But it’s the amount of skin you’re seeing, the broadness of his shoulders and small pudge of his tummy, your mouth feels dry.
“Thought I’d maybe get in the water this time.” He says bashfully, but with confidence he walks into the waves.
He’s brave. You thought after falling into the sea, he would hesitate to return. Yet he moves with a confident grace.
“You’re brave.” You even tell him, not hiding your admiration.
He barks an amused laugh.
“Yeah well, seen worse things than the water.” Javier says a bit darkly.
That perks up your curiosity.
Soon enough Javier steps closer, until he abruptly freezes.
“Is this okay?” This considerate man, he’s asking if you’re alright with him getting closer.
You nod, instead find yourself swimming out a bit further, deeper, into the ocean.
And Javier follows.
Now to any bystander on the beach it’s like you’re another land dweller among the waves floating with him.
Yet the call of the sea, your nature and upbringing, slowly seeps in. You begin swimming around the man. It’s a trait to circle around something you desire and want to keep within your eye watch.
It’s a dance. While you move slowly swimming around him, his eyes never leave yours. That is until a wave jostles you both. It pushes you closer, almost colliding into Javier until his warm hands steady your shoulders. He’s touching you.
Among the splash of the water, being so close to him, your tail flutters accidentally brushing against him.
“So it was a tail.” He mutters like he’s trying to believe it.
While his eyes stare down at the water, yours stay focused on him.
Self conscious, worried and nervous, you try swinging your tail out of his sight.
“Es hermosa.” Javier adds.
You’ve picked up many dialects here among the coastline. He’s calling your tail, you, beautiful.
You can’t handle how badly your soul now seems to ache for this man and how your heart races wild. So with the waves settled you quickly move back to swimming around him.
Feeling giddy, you playfully move your hand against the water splashing him. Javier blinks of his trance, sputtering when the salty sea water hits him.
“That’s not nice.” He scoffs then moves to splash you back stronger.
It becomes a childish competition of splashing each other until seaweed unknowingly curls around Javier making him react in horror and you laugh. In playful retribution, he throws the seaweed at you.
“Be careful, I’ll send dolphins after you.” You tease, and his eyes go wide.
“Can you talk to sea creatures?!” He asks excitedly.
You laugh even harder, shaking your head no. Javier narrows his eyes, slightly suspicious. Playfully he splashes you again. Laughter escapes you buoyant.
“Javi!” Until someone yells out from the shoreline, and your heart drops.
Snapping your eyes to the shore, there’s a few men waiting, staring out.
Panic swarms in you. Your body jolts to move, until Javier’s arm gently moves to hold you steady.
“Don’t leave. It’ll make it more obvious.” Javi whispers under his breath. “Just relax, stay calm.”
“What’s a pretty thing like her doing with a pendejo like you?!” One of the young guys yells out with a joking laugh.
Your heart races petrified. The waves keep you concealed, but having this much attention and being raw in the open feels too much.
“Fuck off Richie.” Javi scoffs back in a yell.
“Dumbass fucking friend of my cousin.” He explains to you with a gruff mutter.
Yet his hand gently drags down your arm to go to yours. His hand, so much bigger and warmer, squeezes yours.
“It’ll be okay. Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe.”
His words warm, soft and gentle on the breeze, get tangled in your heart. With a final squeeze to your hand, he swims back towards the land. When Javier reaches the shore and gives you a casual wave, you weakly smile back.
As they leave, you don’t miss the way one of the men, Richie, if you remember right, turns to glance at you over his shoulder. His eyes terrify you with how piercing they stay on you.
But the minute Javi and those men fade off the shoreline, you fade into the waves.
-
Having the other land dwellers see you is a grim reminder of how reckless you’re being.
But you don’t want to stop.
If anything, it makes you simply want to draw Javi to you even more. The humans painted your kind as temptresses who lure people to the sea and to their death. You understand now why. There’s an unexplainable urge burning in you to draw Javier further towards you, like the pull of the tides to the shoreline.
So the next time you see him, you tell him to bring his swimwear and to save the day to be out at sea.
One of his eyebrows lifts a bit curiously. “And you’re not telling me where we’re going?”
You simply smile, toothy and wide.
The sun is kind today and with no harsh wind it’s a peaceful day among the waves. Javi, with his glorious warm sun kissed bare chest slips into the water with you and hisses.
“S’fucking cold.” He sneers, and his face crumples into a grumpy handsome pout.
“Feels fine to me.” You joke. Javi gives you a dry look that makes you grin.
The spot you take him to is further down the coastline, across the beach wall, and you’re thankful it’s not too far. It’s also a bit more secluded against the higher rocks that act like a slight barrier. The water gets shallow towards the edge of the rocks blending in towards the tide pools. It’s a comfort getting to stay in the water, yet the low tide allows Javier time to fully walk comfortably.
“Woah!” He gasps bright when his eyes fall to the tide pools.
“Holy fucking shit.” He whispers.
You simply watch him hypnotized. He points out the different creatures he spots, the way the water changes among the rocks coloring, its beautiful.
“I didn't even know this shit was here.” He mutters.
Not many do.
“That’s not all why we’re here.” You tell him warmly.
With a nudge out to the open waves, Javier and you turn just in time to see it.
A sweet dolphin, porpoises as the locals love to call them, jumps out among the waves.
Javier’s surprised gasp is beautiful.
“They always love to swim here, a lot less people.” You explain.
Now you move to slip under the water. It’s been a while since you’ve used your voice to click and make the chirps to call, but you’re thankful the dolphins hear you.
You beckon Javier to join you deeper in the water and he eagerly does. The pod swims up eagerly. Even a few jump to pop their heads up.
“You said you couldn’t speak to sea creatures!” He exclaims, and you laugh.
“I can’t! Think of it as making a noise to call for a land animal. That’s all I did.” You explain.
His gorgeous face scrunches up grumpy, almost unsatisfied, with your answer. Snickering you return your focus back to the sweet creatures swimming around.
A few of the dolphins are more playfully curious than the others and readily take in the attention you and Javi give to them. One even particularly gets jealous when Javi moves to pet another and she squeaks out in protest even pushing up against him.
His laugh is pure magic. His eyes crinkle beautifully, and you think you’re seeing one of the world’s hidden treasures.
Eventually the dolphins take their leave. Javier makes his way to a safer spot along the shoreline and after checking the area, seeing it’s still pretty vacant, you allow the waves to wash you up to the beach.
Alongside him, you lounge on the shore.
It’s the closest you’ve been to him, the most you’ve ever been on the beach itself.
Your entire scaled lower body is practically out in the open for anyone passing by to see, but you want to be this close to him. You don’t want the water to keep you seperated.
“Are there…others of your kind around here?” He asks low.
You shake your head. “Not recently. I’ve found an older abandoned cave of someone that maybe possibly lived here, but no one has emerged.”
He hums in acknowledgment.
“Do you miss them? Your family?” Javi questions quietly.
Sometimes you do miss them, and you truthfully tell him that. But you don’t want to return to your family or your people. Now he again asks about your world, about your family. So you tell him of deep glimmering underwater caverns all across the sea that house your kind. He listens with complete rapture.
“You know,” you add a bit amused. “You’ve handled learning about me and all of this really well.”
Javi snorts.
“Well…my family told me to be respectful of things we don’t understand. There might be some shit out in this world we can’t explain, and that’s okay. We don’t need to argue with it. Instead just maybe gotta learn from it.”
You can sense that in him. He never once seemed afraid of you, instead approached all his questions and curiosity with genuine understanding.
“Besides, I’ve seen crazier shit so this doesn’t really surprise me.” Javier adds with a dry but hollow snort.
That reminds you of what he said before. So you mention it gently.
“You said there are worse things on land than the water, what are they?”
Javier turns to you. His eyes dance in the brilliant sun and they look like brighten earthen soil gems. Yet there’s a wary and weary heaviness in them.
He explains about his old occupation on the surface world, about how he chased after bad men in Columbia. You nod, explaining you’ve heard of that country because of the ports.
“You know where Columbia is?” His eyes go wide.
You teasingly roll your eyes at his surprise. “I do know enough about our worlds Javier.”
He shakes his head. “You continue to surprise me, mi sirena.”
The term, sweetly affectionate, causes something in your gut to flutter.
However, all of that gets quietly put aside as Javier continues his quiet explanation of the shadows and darkness he saw.
You stay silent, letting him explain it all - the horrors of watching men fight over power and money, the corruption, the lives lost, the weight of it all showing him a grim reality that sometimes rears its evil head within humanity. Your eyes even fight back tears.
He’s seen so much, been through so much, and it all hangs on his shoulders.
Without hesitation your hand moves to rest against his. The urge to comfort him is so powerful, and you don’t want to fight it. His eyes now flutter down to your hand where his fingers gingerly begin stroking against your skin.
“Are you ever going back?” You ask softly, worried about him returning to that darkness.
“No. Never going back or doing that type of work again.” He shakes his head.
“Good.” You reply relived.
Javier smiles charmingly bashful, and it’s adorable.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He quickly recovers diverting your attention to something new. Delicately his hand reaches out to your chest and you freeze.
His hands delicately graze against your necklace.
“You wear this all the time. Is it something special?” Always so curious, your land dweller.
“Looks like one of your scales, same color and everything.” He adds.
That’s because it is, and you tell him that.
On the day you became of age, you shed one of the scales on your tail and have it blessed by the sea and moon. The legend has it that the scale is promised to hold one wish. But that was a tale told to you as a child. You simply now understand it’s a mark of passing into maturity. It’s been a constant companion for years ever since.
Javi’s eyebrows raise up in surprise.
“Do you think that legend is true?”
You shrug. “I’ve never known it to be. Always thought it was just fantasy.”
Javier snorts.
“You don’t believe in fantasy?” He questions incredulously.
Playfully you shove his shoulder, and he snickers.
Now a silence settles. The crashing waves become the only noise floating between you and him. Neither his hand or yours leaves the other.
“You said… your family wanted you to be with someone of your kind that you didn’t like…” he now begins cautiously breaking the silence.
“So did that mean there was someone else you cared for?” Javi suggests.
You snort a bit playful, yet answer a quiet no.
“There was a land dweller I had been curious about, but it was just a simple passing fling.” You admit.
“Oh.” Javier answers, but his voice deflates enough you even catch it.
He’s annoyed with that answer.
You’ve been infatuated with other land dwellers before, but it was like seeing the stars above. You admired their beauty from afar and that’s all.
Javier feels like a precious gem discovered from a sunken ship, a treasure you want to keep forever and cherish. He feels rare, so good and in your grasp almost too precious to hoard. Or maybe you just aren’t worthy of him.
You move to hold his hand better.
So you tell him. You’ve never let anyone get this close, never even once spoken to another human.
Yet here you are.
“There’s no one like you. I don't think there will be anyone else like you.” You admit before you can stop the words.
But they are true. No one will ever be like Javier, a man so worn by the world yet still so kind.
His eyes again flicker to yours, and you’re trapped in his gaze. A shift sparks in the air like the way it does before a storm approaches. It tingles against your skin, and something aches in your chest.
His eyes flicker to your lips. Your body shifts closer to him caught in his warmth.
A loud blare of a boat horn comes. Pure fear crashes into you.
Without hesitation Javi practically drapes himself over you. His arms draw around your head like a shield trying to cover most of your body up with his.
His eyes and yours stare to the side worried at what approaches. But thankfully the boat now sounds like it’s reaching shore further away.
The scare felt too real. Worry rages in you wildly. Yet, it’s quickly drowned out by Javier.
He’s close. Javi’s chest is against your side, against your tail. His arms are on either side of your head and he radiates warmth, such a warmth you never knew others could hold. Maybe it’s because he’s a landweller, or you think maybe it’s just because it’s him.
This position is precious even for you. You’ve spotted humans mating on the beach before. You can even admit how curious it’s made you.
Now a raw heat burns through you. Javier sighs, then glances down at you beneath him.
The shadows dance on his face so wonderfully, highlighting his striking nose. You wonder how terribly it would be to slither your arms around him and pull him down to you. Your mouth even waters seeing the sweat on his skin, and you imagine how it must taste mixing with the salt of the water, your home.
It’s simply just you staring up at him, him staring down at you and sound of the waves.
“We…we should head back.” He says clearing his throat.
The entire swim back to the main shoreline is silent, feels like a weight hangs among you and him even when you tell him goodbye.
Later among the solitude of the night and waves, you dream of Javier. But something dangerous sneaks into your fantasies. You fantasize being entangled with him as a human, two legs wrapping around him, getting to know his body against your own. It’s fierce, knocks the wind out of you, but also unleashes a sorrowful ache into you.
You wonder what it would be like as a land dweller because a more clouded doubtful piece of you can’t imagine Javier desiring you now.
Even with the admiration you’ve heard from him, you imagine that a man’s handsome as Javier wouldn’t desire someone like you.
A splash of water hits your face, and the saltwater you notice mixes well with your silent tears.
-
The next morning when you arrive at your usual spot to meet Javier, a soft pink conch sits on the shoreline and your blood runs cold.
For your people, a conch shell is a way to communicate. They’re used to convey many different messages from marking territories to a warning.
You reassure yourself it simply washed up on the beach as all seashells do. But the way it sits precariously placed scares you overriding any of the anxious energy you had about seeing Javier again.
“Did you…leave this here?” You even ask him about the conch when he arrives.
“Uh, no. But it’s pretty.” He says lifting up the shell to examine it. “Funny enough my Tía collects shells like these so much that my uncle even jokes they could open up a store.”
You weakly smile trying to be amused, but the dread hangs in your stomach.
When Javier leaves, you try gathering your thoughts.
“I take it you saw my message.” The new voice is warm.
Walking down from the other side of the pier, an older woman emerges. Her eyes, wrinkled by the corners, watching you seem kind and streams of gray color her dark hair.
You want to bolt back into the water out of fear, but you’re confused and want to understand more.
“I can see your hesitation, young one.” She says. “My name is Gloria and I’ve been watching you for sometime now.”
Now you’re panicking.
This must be your punishment for growing too close to Javier.
Before you can react the woman reaches at her dress collar and pulls something out.
A necklace with a scale attached to it. Except this scale doesn’t shine with color but instead appears cold, lifeless.
The wind is knocked out of you.
“So you understand now.” Gloria smiles, however there’s a cloudy hesitation forming in her eyes.
This is your warning brought to life. She is the real woman who left the sea, went to land -
And she is alive.
There's so much you want to ask her. Everything feels so overwhelming.
“We don’t have much time to chat.” She gently tells you. “I promise I’ll answer all your questions soon, but you must know…”
A dark gloomy frown falls over her lovely aged face.
“Someone is looking for you.”
You’re a bit confused by her words.
“And I don’t mean your land dweller.” She adds and dread claws into you monstrous.
Someone else. Someone else saw you.
“Javier wouldn’t tell anyone about me.” You fire back, fierce and hurt.
“You need to lie low, stay hidden.” Gloria orders somber and serious. “Maybe even find another place to nest for some time.”
Fear grapples with something fanged inside your heart. You don’t want to leave Javier. You don’t even want to hide from him here, much less leave him.
Gloria must see the conflict on your face, and she sighs. A grandmotherly sadness washes over her.
“I’m sorry, young one.”
You swallow back the tears.
No, this is the truth. Javier was always going to leave back to his hometown eventually. Your time with him was limited, not guaranteed. This is just a reminder of that.
You shove away the tears stinging your eyes and thank Gloria for alerting you.
She grins sad but soft. “I wish you well. Please be safe.”
“Wait.” You call out to her. Even though you still have so many questions, want to ask her so many things, there is only one thing you need to ask before she leaves.
Gloria turns back with a patient look.
“Can you fall in love with a human this quickly?” You try keeping your voice level, but it breaks under the weight of your emotions.
Gloria frowns, heartbroken. Her eyes swim with an ancient understanding crystalline with sadness.
“I fell in love the instant I saw my husband,” she smiles beautifully among the ache. “He rescued me from a fisherman’s net, and I never looked back. I trusted the water and it provided.”
The familiar saying of your kind.
Your blink away tears.
“Then how can I leave him?” You croak back to Gloria.
“You need to so you can keep him and yourself safe,” she answers with the patience of a mother.
A quick desperate thought flashes in your mind. Your hand flies up to clutch the shell hanging from your necklace.
If the children’s stories were true, if you actually had one wish -
Gloria’s eyes go wide, and she inhales fast.
“You make that choice, you can never go back.” She declares sharply.
“Wait, what?” You ask a bit confused.
“You may get your wish, but it will come at a cost.” Gloria tells you dark and somber.
Dread consumes you. So her shell’s discoloration was because she used her wish.
“What’s the cost?” You sob.
“Whatever the sea wishes to take.” Gloria’s answer feels final, a raw cut through your inner most soul.
With one final sad nod, she wishes you well and leaves you alone under the shadow of the pier with your unbearable heartbreak.
“Hey, you alright?” The next morning Javier notices your demeanor.
“Yes, just a bit tired.” You smile false and small.
You don’t know how you’re going to break this to him. You wonder if you simply should just stop showing up, break it off quick and painful but fast. But even then you can’t face that possibility.
“So tonight,” Javi says, trying to brighten the mood. “We’re having this nice dinner at that restaurant further down right on the water.”
“That’s lovely.” You tell him truthfully with a warm soft grin.
His eyes soften, but you avert your gaze, unable to handle the truth barbed in your heart. Then gentle fingers suddenly trace against your face, almost too afraid to fully touch you.
Your look to find Javier’s eyes hazed over staring down at you.
“It’ll be nice to know you might be out there in the waves, mi sirena.” He mutters.
The danger is imminent. You need to leave or simply tell him what’s been going on. But that fear is overshadowed by the unbearable adoration for Javier.
You rationalize that this will be your final glimpse at Javi before you tell him the truth.
So when the night falls you swim low and quietly to the restaurant.
The lights and warmth, the upbeat musical, all radiate from the dock the restaurant sits at the edge of. You’re able to swim around the outdoor area with enough cover.
Gently peeking up from the waves you find the view is clear. A few people sit and stand outside around the edge of the railing thankfully not even glancing out to the ocean.
That’s when you spot him.
Your eyes go wide.
Dressed in a simple white button up, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Javier is otherworldly.
He’s too handsome for his own good, the surface world’s handcrafted temptation for you. All you can do is sink more into the water hoping the cooling waves bring you back to reality.
He leans on the rail facing the open sea. Those dark eyes of his flicker out and now you realize, he might be searching for you.
Your body moves on its own. Tail swishing, you swim closer to his line of sight gravitating towards him.
But then a shadow of someone approaching comes and you stop. One of the men you remember vaguely appears besides Javier.
“Whatcha looking for, vato?” The young man jokes nudging Javi, but your eyes narrow seeing how annoyed Javier looks.
“Can’t I just enjoy the water, Richie?” Javi jokes.
The man, Richie, is the one you remember staring at you so intently.
“You lookin’ for your sea goddess?” He says loud, mocking.
Javier reacts fast. He snaps turns towards Richie with the quickest speed, and a hard glare transforms his face.
“Why you acting up like that, viejo?” Richie grins antagonist.
“Don’t know what you’re fucking talking about, Ricardo.” Javier snaps low and serious.
“You know exactly what I mean.” Richie growls. “And you and your cousin and Tía y Tío might all think I’m crazy, but I know what I fucking saw that night you went overboard. I saw that fucking creature that saved you.”
Fear bubbles up dizzying.
Richie is the one searching for you.
You can’t move. It’s too much.
Until Javi jolts into action. He grabs Richie by the collar and a deadly darkness falls over his face.
“Enough.” Suddenly Javier’s voice drops.
Then he quickly speaks to Richie so low that even swimming just a bit closer you can’t pick up what Javi says. But it’s spoken deadly enough that when he shoves Richie away, the younger man glares at Javier silently. Then he simply walks away.
Javi defended you. He’s kept you, your secret, safe.
You can’t describe the emotion that cracks your heart open wide. From the waves you stare at him unable to look away as he sighs pinching the bridge of his lovely nose.
You ache to soothe him.
But, someone else seems to as well.
“You look like you could use some company.” A woman, gorgeous and giving Javi a soft smile, moves towards his side.
All that tender adoration dwelling in your heart turns sour when Javier turns to converse with her. He smiles politely and kind.
They lean against the wooden railing, eyes focused on each other and Javi says something to make the mystery woman laugh. His eyes crinkle, the same way they do when he smiles at something you say. Javier gives her his full attention and jealousy strikes its fangs venomous.
But the truth is worse. This is another reminder Javier was never maybe meant to ever be yours.
You jump back into the sea, unfortunately making a splash announcing your departure. But a part of you wants him to hear and know you’re leaving.
Out of habit you arrive at your secluded spot under the pier by the shoreline. Your eyes sting as you squeeze them shut refusing to let yourself cry over this. At least this will help make it easier when you bid him farewell tomorrow. You sit for a moment gathering yourself.
Footsteps rush on the sand, and you panic.
Immediately Javier jogs in from the side, out of breath and already sweaty. He must have ran all the way over here.
“Mi sirena,” he exhales heavy.
You swallow hard.
“I…I didn’t know if you saw…” Javi begins curiously.
You don’t know how to reply, dont even know if you should.
“I…” his voice starts but gets stalled as if he doesn’t know what to say either.
“It’s alright.” You reassure him, graciously thanking him for keeping your secret.
“You should get back to your companion. She’s lovely.” You tell him surprisingly composed.
“You seem upset.” He argues.
You reassure him you’re not.
“No, you’re upset. What’s wrong?” This man, annoyingly stubborn, presses.
You snap back that it's none of his concern.
“Tell me.” His voice takes a sharper turn.
“It’s nothing! Go back to your party, human!” You snap, and the word leaves your mouth sharp.
You’ve never once called him that.
His eyes go wide a bit, like he’s even a bit taken back at what you said. You blink away the tears stunned at your own emotional outburst.
“I’m sorry.” You quickly apologize, already furiously wiping away the tears.
He says your name soft. “You’re crying.”
His footsteps come closer and you snap your face away trying to shove more and more tears.
“What’s wrong?” Javier crouches down to sit besides you on the sand.
“I’m just upset about what I said, that’s all.” You half lie through a broken voice.
“Why won’t you just tell me the truth?” He urges concerned.
Because, you want to tell him, it’s too much to hold.
You feel like you might break.
Suddenly his warm hand gently slides across your cheek. Slowly he tilts your face towards him, and your mind stalls feeling his fingers against you.
In the night air, under the dim shadow of the pier, his eyes seem like the endless sky.
“Dígame, mi sirena.” Talk to me, he says soft and tender.
Your words fail. Instead you feel greedy, desperate. Your hand moves to clutch his hand and lean into his palm while your eyes shut.
The tears come again.
The air feels cold against your skin.
“I don’t want to let you go.” You admit, finally freeing that truth.
“I’m not going anywhere, honey.” Javier softly replies firmly.
That term, you’ve heard it used by other surface dwellers, and you want to sink your teeth into it.
Wearily your eyes open to stare at him once more. Now his eyes seem hazed over and his lips parted open. His lips look so soft while his eyes swim cautiously. You’re worried any moment now he might turn into seafoam before your eyes.
In a blink, Javi surges towards you. Like a fast rip of a wave crashing into you, his lips press to yours.
You’ve never kissed a land dweller. You’ve imagined it a few times, especially now more with Javi in mind. But none of those fantasies do this justice.
He’s so warm, intoxicating like the most dangerous ambrosia. You whimper when his body slides you closer to him. Your hands claw at him more.
You need him closer, want him intertwined with you
Eventually you lean back, until your body rests against the sand, and Javier kisses at you from above. His tongue seeks and licks into you with a melting consuming heat. You moan into his mouth feeling dizzy at how delicious he tastes.
He breaks away first needing air but kisses your jaw, nipping at your skin.
“Wait.” Javi exhales and slowly draws back. Even among the brewing heat, the passion burning through your veins, his eyes are hesitant.
“You okay with this, mi sirena?” He asks, gentle and steady.
This unreal wonderful man. Your hand cups his cheek now letting your thumb stroke against his warm skin.
“It’s you. It’s only ever going to be you.” You whisper.
His eyes widen, letting your words sink in and then he turns to kiss the palm of your hand.
“Are you okay with this?” You now turn the question delicately back to him.
He nods quietly, slowly. Then you watch the way his eyes darken, like storm clouds that create a wonderful whirlwind sweeping you up.
“Then take me.” You mutter drawing him closer to you.
There had been someone, an elder in your kind, who once engaged in passionate matings multiple times with a sailor. She was shunned from your colony for her transgression, but the stories she told became forbidden whispers told among everyone. She swore the mating with her sailor was nothing she ever felt before, how that type of passion was indescribable.
And she was right.
Javier’s body heat burns through you. His tongue and teeth clash, devouring you. His body temperature compared to yours runs warmer, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced. It’s hot, messy and soaks you euphoric. You’re consumed, utterly drunk on this as you beg for him to give you more, give you all of him.
And when he enters you, it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. He’s perfect, stretches you incredibly deep and heats you from the inside you never knew was possible. You wonder if this is what the creation felt like, this clash of heat and passion crashing, forming new caverns in your soul.
He kisses every inch of skin he can reach, and you clutch onto him like he’s your lifeline.
Listening to the grunts of Javier’s voice, feeling his body mold into yours, even tasting the salt of his skin, melts you.
You’ve never felt more cherished than when his hands traced over your skin, never felt more ecstasy than when his passion clashes with yours.
There under the shadow of the pier, with the waves crashing onto the shore, you meet orgasmic bliss in his arms.
Eventually, in the afterglow, in the late quiet of the night, his fingers trace across your tail.
“You’re amazing.” He mutters out.
Your fingers trace against his bare forearms.
“I could say the same about you.” You tell him truthfully. All the stories he told you about his time in Columbia, the way he loves his family so fiercely, he’s a rare soul you want to keep forever.
He barks a laugh, hollow and small. “Not compared to you, mi sirena.”
Emotions clog your throat.
“That man…Richie-”
“He won’t find you.” He quickly replies cutting you off sharp and simple, like he won’t even acknowledge the idea.
“But you’re in danger too, Javier.” You urge.
“He’s just a punk ass kid, my baby primo’s best friend. He won’t do shit.” Javi reassures.
Gloria’s warning resurfaces in your thoughts, and you swallow hard. Fear and doubt cloud your thoughts.
“Is this your way of repaying a debt to me?” Before you realize it, the words leave your mouth.
“Wait, what?” He questions.
You sigh, watching the dark waves out at sea.
You’ve always wondered why Javier was so adamant in visiting you, why he’s become so protective.
“I’ve wondered…” your voice trails off distant and small. You tell him the deep worry that’s been brewing.
You’ve wondered if he’s simply here with you, doing all of this, as some means to repay you back from saving his life. That his interest is simply born from a sense of obligation.
Javier says your name, firm and solid.
With a hard frown on his lovely face, he shakes his head.
“At first I just wanted to thank you. But now…now I can’t fucking stop thinking about you. Don’t even wanna think about leaving you.” Javi admits quietly.
Your heart becomes crystalized, heavy and heated from his words.
His gaze returns to your tail, and fingers again reverently stroking against your skin.
“I’ve seen so much shit, been god damn burnt out. Then you reminded me of how fucking beautiful this world is.” Javier adds.
Stories told about the surface dwellers painted them as ruthless, cold, and selfish. But Javier isn’t like that at all. He’s incredibly curious, kind, protective, a bit grumpy at times. And he’s beautiful.
He’s the one who showed you the true beauty of the land above.
You slowly sit up, possessed by a deep emotion surging through you. When you rise, you lean to kiss Javier again. Your land dweller welcomes you with a warm embrace.
-
A net falling over your face wakes you in a panic.
Your body thrashes up only to find netting all around you. Fear drums loud in your ears.
Being worn out from the night’s escapades with him, you must have fallen asleep on the beach after Javier left.
A loud excited cackle cracks into the air.
“See! I fucking told you that bitch was a mermaid!”
Richie’s voice rings out terrifyingly loud. When your eyes snap up, the young man’s shadow falls above you and he smiles sinisterly. The sun isn’t even fully up, yet you see his face clear as day.
“Man, what the fuck?” Someone sputters, and your eyes flicker to the other individual here. You take it this other young man worried and a bit wide eyed must be Javi’s cousin.
“See! I knew your fucking primo was keeping this thing hidden, Leo!” Richie cries.
The net is grand, doesn’t seem to end as you try scanning around trying to find the edge of it. Your next plan of action will be to scratch your way out of it. You rarely use your claws, but this is dire.
Richie and Javier’s family member continue their frantic discussion in the early morning air.
“What’dya plan to do with her huh?!”
“Imagine the fucking money we’d get!” Richie answers proud.
The two bricker now and you can’t even pay attention to them. Fear poisons you fast, and you’re getting frantic. It’s now or never.
Once you feel your nails grow into claws deadly and sharp, you start tearing your way through the net mesh.
A strange clicking sound comes, and a loud gasp follows.
“Richie, what the fuck?!” Javier’s cousin, Leo, sounds petrified.
You still, turning your gaze to the source of the sound and find something pointed at you from above.
You’ve never seen one up close, but you’ve heard of these weapons, know of them and their instant death -
A gun.
“You brought your dad’s fuckin’ gun?!” Leo shouts.
“Didn’t know what we’d expect.” Richie sneers, but keeps his gaze on you.
“You try escaping and I’ll blow your fucking head off.” He tells you, and terror sickens your stomach.
You can’t even jump in the water. The net is so large and you’re so tangled in it.
“What the fuck is going on?” Javi. His voice comes in a breeze of salvation.
Your land dweller emerges from the side of the pier, and his face falls at the sight.
Hope tumbles in dizzying fast but collides with fright. Especially when Richie jumps at Javi’s entrance and swings to point the gun at him.
Leo yells loud in protest while Javi holds his hands up defensive but stays composed.
“I knew you were keeping this freak all to yourself. What? Didn’t want me finding it?” Richie spits.
Javi’s eyes flicker to yours for a split second. You lock onto his dark gaze and swear you can hear what he’s trying to silently communicate.
“What do you plan to do, huh?” Javier turns his attention back to Richie. “Manage to get her onto land and then what? What do you plan to do after that?” Javi’s voice is steady, an unwavering lighthouse among the storm.
He’s diverting attention onto him. Especially with how furiously Richie begins yelling at him not even noticing you.
“Man Richie, just put the gun down.” Leo urges.
You scramble back to the net, freshly grown claws at the ready and try cutting through the thick mesh. You need to focus, but your hands keep slipping out of terror especially hearing how loud they all scream now.
Continuing to cut, focusing with all your might, thankfully you start slicing through the threads.
“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?!” Richie yells.
Then instantly a loud bang comes.
A scream escapes you with how loud the sound comes. Then a sharp pain jolts through you like getting stung by a stingray, but intensified. Your tail feels like it’s on fire and you cry out.
You snap your eyes down. Whatever the gun fired off just grazed you, but blood begins spilling crimson over your scales and into the water.
Then commotion erupts. It’s a scuffle and soon enough Javi moves to tackle Richie.
But another loud loud bang rings out.
It happens fast. In a blink Javi rushes against Richie. Then the next he’s crumbling down onto the sand. Blood spreads soaking into Javi’s shirt and another scream rips out of you.
Something raw and monstrous, like a red haze, clouds you. You fully rip through the net and out of meshing. The most inhuman scream comes. You don’t realize it’s you screaming until your claws swipe at Richie’s legs with vicious intent.
You slice and slice not even caring blood leaks onto your hands, or that Richie cries out horrified falling onto the sand. Leo sees the opportunity, jumps in and tackles him fully, knocking the gun away.
Your hands shake, but you scramble around looking for Javi.
Your land dweller manages to drag himself closer to you, but the bleeding is getting worse. Color drains from his beautiful face. You don’t even care how much your tail stings. You pull yourself onto the sand towards Javier until you move to draw him into your arms.
The tears fall fast and uncontrollable.
“No tears, mi sirena.” He wheezes with a soft sight. “It’s alright.”
You cradle him in your arms, burrowing your head into his hair as you cry.
You have to save him.
Then it hits you. You have one last thing, one last hope.
You shift with shakily hands and rip your necklace off.
He mumbles your name while you shift him in your arms. Javi must spot the necklace because he again says your name curiously.
“Wait… What are you doing?” He presses harder but his voice grows hoarse.
Please, you whisper in your heart as the tears roll down your face, please save him, take whatever you need.
You place the necklace against his wound. Javi’s voice calling to you comes quickly, but then - your world goes dark.
-
Waking up, an unfamiliar sensation surrounds you. You’re warm, bundled in something soft and unfamiliar.
Snapping your eyes open you discover you’re in a new place. It’s a space inside a cozy land dweller home. The walls are a soft sunset color and so many sells decorate the area. A mess of emotions overwhelms you and you scramble to move.
That’s when someone rushes to your side.
“Hey, it’s okay.” Javi.
He kneels down beside you and your eyes cloud with tears fast.
“You’re alright.” You sob out.
Javier’s earth eyes glisten watery and he nods, grabbing your hand to kiss your palm.
It worked. The wish worked.
You now wonder what the ocean took, what price did you pay. Until you notice…your lower body doesn’t feel the same. The sensation where your tail should be feels different. Legs, surface dweller legs, shift under the covers.
You sharply inhale as the thought hits you.
Tail no more, you’re human.
“Honey.” Javi begins cautiously. “I’m sorry. It happened right after you saved me and-”
You jump to embrace him, truly hold him. You reassure him there’s nothing to be sorry for.
He pulls you into his arms and squeezes you tight while kissing the side of your head fiercely. You don’t know how long you stay holding him, but eventually you ask about what happened.
Javi and his cousin, Leo, managed to subdue Richie as more people heard the ruckus in the early morning. They kept him controlled until law enforcement showed up. After that, you were taken to Javier’s family residence where you’re been resting ever since.
“Is he going to come back?” You ask a bit worriedly, clutching his hand. Javi’s free warm hand moves to stroke your face.
“No mi sirena, he won’t hurt us again.” He promises true and unwavering.
“Is she up?” A new excited voice comes in, interrupting your moment with Javier.
“Pop.” Javi sighs exasperated, almost embarrassed, but the door opens quickly.
The man in a cream colored hat comes in and you recognize him as Javi’s father. His eyes, gentle and warm, crinkle as they take you in.
“What?” He jokes to his son. “You won’t let me see the ángel who saved my son twice?”
His name is Chucho and he’s a dazzling ray of sincerity. Pure sunshine, he hugs you tight, thanking you in a watery voice.
Realizing what he said, something in you pauses worried for a moment. Javier must have told him who you are, or who you were now.
“Don’t worry,” Chucho reassures you with the same steadfast tenderness his son holds. “Your secret is safe with us. Afterall, you won’t be the only one in the family now.”
He winks at you, however a bit of confusion bubbles up.
“Aye Chucho, let her be.” The familiar voice startles you.
Gloria with her lovely aged face wanders in and a handsome older man follows right behind her. He must be the husband she spoke of. His resemblance to Chucho sits in the familiar grin. Gloria’s smile is soft, faintly sad, but understanding.
“Didn’t think I’d see you again this way, young one.” She nods.
“Found out you and my Tía Gloria met,” Javi mutters amused and your mind trips over itself.
The woman who traded her life in the sea for the land…
She’s Javier’s aunt.
For some reason that comforts you, and you laugh watery while she moves to embrace you as well.
Eventually you get to rest more among the soft covers and in Javier’s arms.
“A bit late to ask but,” Javi begins with a dry snort. “You regret it?”
You shake your head no, telling him you never will. It’s a choice you would make in every lifetime. He pulls you closer into his arms kissing the top of your head.
Eventually he slowly falls asleep, and you’re lulled into a peaceful serenity.
Where you rest gives you a clear open view of the sea just beyond your reach. Javi’s soft snorts mix with the soft breeze of the waves crashing faintly outside.
Your people were right. The water does provide. Because as Javier shifts in his sleep, almost nuzzling into you more, you realize the sea brought you to a treasure you can’t find among the waves.
The sunlight dancing on the ocean waves feels like both a twinkling goodbye and a wave hello to this new world of yours.
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aemondsquill · 1 year
Text
Keep Going
Aemond Targaryen × Pregnant!Reader
Synopsis: The Blacks invade King's Landing. Aemond and his wife make a daring escape.
Reader is Daemon's daughter. No physical description except for Targaryen features (violet eyes and white hair)
A/N: thank you guys so much for all your support and love for my last fic!! It's so encouraging to know that y'all enjoyed it and I have about 5 other wips waiting in my drafts that I'm super excited to write!
Anyways, back at it again with the ANGST💅
Warnings: Heavy angst, stabbing, attempted murder, mentions of war, blood, gore, pregnancy loss, death
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"Come, little dove, we must hurry!" Aemond whispered into the darkness. Y/N waddled around their darkened chambers, her pregnant belly making mobility slightly difficult. Even during this dire time, Aemond took a moment to admire his bride. The pregnancy gave her the most beautiful glow. Excitement glimmered in his chest at the thought of meeting the babe within her. He was hoping for a little girl with her mother's gentle eyes to dote upon. The only source of light were the fires currently burning through King's Landing. The flames cast a romantic yellow hue over her delicate features and made her silvery hair glow.
The Blacks decided to invade whilst the Red Keep slept. They brought their dragons: Caraxes, Tyraxes, Syrax, and Moondancer. All of which were currently wreaking havoc, circling the sky over the dragon pits waiting for their prey. Hundreds of Black bannermen and foot soldiers stormed the city, pillaging and slaughtering anyone they deemed loyal to the Greens.
Just a week prior, Y/N received a raven from her stepmother, Rhaenyra, urging her to leave the city as soon as possible. The letter promised safe passage to Pentos to wait out the destruction until the babe is born. Rhaenyra always held a certain affection for the girl. She willingly and eagerly took the young one under her wing after marrying Daemon.
Y/N notified Aemond of the letter immediately. He spent days planning their escape; which tunnels they would use, where they would dock the rowboat at the end of the tunnel, and which of the little islands would Vhagar wait for them.
Three days prior to tonight, Aemond stashed their luggage on the island they decided on and Vhagar would fly there early the next morn, ideally undetected.
Shouting could be heard through the large oaken door. The Blacks had infiltrated the Keep.
Anxiety clawed it's way into Aemond's chest. For the first time since he was a mere child he felt powerless.
He clutched Y/N's hand tightly, gently kissing her shivering fingers before pulling her towards the passage hidden within their chambers.
----
Light was sparse in the bowels of the foreboding Keep, but the violet-eyed pair pressed on.
The clinking of metal armor stopped them in their tracks, nerves on high alert. Y/N felt her heart drop into her stomach and her knees felt wobbly as Aemond tucked her into a small alcove, shielding her body with his. Together, they held their breath and waited for the soldier to pass. Whether he was Green or Black did not matter, the couple did not want to risk finding out.
A brief moment of silence hung heavily in the air before Aemond spoke.
"My love, if we run into trouble promise me you will run. I will hold whoever it is off..."
"Aemond, do not speak like this." Y/N's voice wobbled. "You are frightening me."
"I apologize, my love. I just want you to know I will do whatever I can to protect you. Both of you." Her heart quivered at his confession.
"It will not come to that." She spoke sternly, "I have the dagger you gifted me on my last name day and I intend to use it, husband." Aemond chuckled at his fierce little wife.
"I know you will. Come, let us continue. We are almost to Balerion's skull."
Aemond held Y/N's hand tightly in his, leading her deeper and deeper through the winding halls.
Aemond swallowed thickly as he thought of his mother, sister, and brother. He prayed for their safety before they made their escape. Surely, at least Heleana would be spared because of her innocence in this mess and his mother because of her past closeness with Rhaenyra. He knew Aegon would meet the Stanger quickly once the Blacks seized him. His drunken brother was still that, his brother and the thought made his violet eye burn with unshed tears.
Aemond's choice to choose his wife and child over his family did not come lightly to him. This is a thought that he had agonized over ever since Y/N received the raven.
Massive stonework created ominous shadows and ancient wood creaked. The Keep itself seemed to be alive that night.
----
Alas! Y/N spotted the mouth of the tunnel in the distance. Excitement made her fingers tingle as she sped up her steps.
Closer and closer they came to the end, the blackened sea coming into view along with the trusty little rowboat. Y/N could smell the briny spray from her location in the tunnel.
Freedom was within their grasp! Seeing the rowboat 'neath the moonlight spurred them on. Just a few more-
"Escaping into the night with your treasonous husband, daughter?"
Y/N felt her blood freeze.
Daemon stepped out from the shadows, along with him his bloodthirsty hounds he calls the Queensguard, surrounding the couple.
"Father, please. Let us pass. We have no fight with you." Daemon chuckled, but the humor did not reach his cold eyes. Aemond gripped his sword beneath his cloak, praying Y/N would heed his words for once. 'Run! You must run now, you insolent little girl!' He thought.
"Rhaenyra promised us safe passage. Please."
"Who's idea do you think that was, my dear?"
Y/N could nearly feel her soul shudder at the betrayal. This was intended. It was a test to see if Y/N would abuse the Queen's mercy by smuggling her husband out as well. And she fell for it so easily. Such pretty words on parchment had swayed her tender heart, filling her with hope. Hope that was so easily stifled with a penetrating stare from her father.
Aemond unsheathed his sword, immediately swinging at an unsuspecting guard, killing him.
"No! Wait!" Y/N begged her husband. Drawing blood would allow them no mercy from Daemon.
'Use this distraction run!' Aemond thought, frustrated.
She unsheathed her own dagger and moved so her back was against her husband's, giving the two full view of the guards circled around them.
"You've opened your legs for my cunt of a nephew and now his spawn resides within you. You will get no mercy from me daughter."
"Father, you pushed for this marriage! Do not forget you wanted to forge an alliance with them!" Y/N shouted, "you are solely responsible for this."
"A decision I regret deeply, Y/N. It is clear whose side you chose and you are no daughter of mine. Sieze them."
The clash of swords rang out behind her and she heard Aemond's grunts of exertion. She swiped at the neck of the guard in front of her and hot sticky blood sprayed on her face.
Aemond's scream in pain stilled her heart. She turned and saw him kneeling, the back of his calf split open, tendons and muscle severed. Still, he swung his sword in vain.
The brief distraction allowed two guards to roughly seize her arms, their bruising grip forcing a yelp from her lips.
Three men wrangled Aemond's arms behind them, he still snarled and squirmed in their grip.
Aemond's eye met Y/N's tortured gaze. A stone sunk in her stomach when she fully realized the gravity of their position.
"You will pay for betraying your Queen, but who will I take first? My traitor daughter and the Green bastard inside her or my nephew, the Kinslayer?" Daemon's tone had a sickening teasing lilt to it, as if he was entertaining a child.
"Well the decision is easy." Daemon stalked over to his prey, dagger drawn and glinting eerily in the moonlight.
"Father, wait, please, don't do this, WAIT! NO WA-" the air was forced from Y/N's lungs as the blade plunged into her gut. And again. And again. And again.
Aemond let out an anguished cry that shook the granite walls behind them. Tears of rage and grief poured out of his eyes, a haunting sight as the sapphire glimmered within his socket.
Y/N could not take a breath as she felt the white hot pain erupt over her swollen abdomen.
The guards released her and she fell limply to the ground.
Then Daemon turned to Aemond, who was choking on his tears and sobs.
"Kill him. When you are done, meet me in the Keep."
A Queensguard brandished a blade in front of Aemond and proceeded to bury to it multiple times in his guts.
Aemond was dropped to the ground as he gasped for breath, the Queensguard retreating into the tunnel.
Aemond crawled to his wife, each drag of his body agony as the rough shoreline tormented his wounds.
He grasped her hand. Shock jolted him as he realized she was alive, but only just.
Together, they propped themselves against the large boulder behind them. Aemond wrapped his arm around his little wife. A sweet and gently embrace that would ease their passage to the Stanger.
"It hurts, Aemond" Y/N whimpered.
"I know, my love." It was all Aemond could say. He failed her. He failed his duty as a husband and a father.
Together they shivered as the life continued to drip from them slowly.
Aemond thought back to their wedding, a day he longed to return to at this hour. If he closed his eye tightly and prayed hard enough, perhaps he would find himself standing in front of her, her eyes shining with love and a small cut adorning her luscious lower lip. Intermingling of their blood gave birth to their marriage. It was fitting that it would see the end of it, too.
"We were so close. We were nearly free." Aemond whispered. Y/N's gasping breaths, while not terribly loud, echoed in his ears. He knew she was not long for this earthly realm.
He held her tightly until he felt her head gently lay on his shoulder. He let out a shuddering breath and he knew.
His throat burned as he spoke, "come, my love, this is no place to die."
With a final surge of energy he stood, shakily. The gash across his calf rendered his left leg useless. Still, he stumbled and groaned through each step. He brought her to the rowboat and gently set her down in it, bundling up his cloak so her head could lay comfortably, his beautiful wife. He gently stroked her now-cold cheeks, chilled by the Stranger's kiss.
---
Each stroke of the oar set fire to Aemond's stomach, the grave wounds stretching uncomfortably as he rowed.
"VHAGAR" he shouted into the void. He called for her, again and again. He begged for his dragon until his throat was scratchy and raw.
The sound of powerful wings flapping could be heard in the distance.
The great she-dragon hovered over the boat as Aemond nestled himself next to his bride. The surge had dampened immensely. His tired eye gazed up at his beast.
"Vha...Vhagar" his spirit was dwindling as his eye fluttered heavily.
"Dracarys." It was all he could muster before slipping into the darkness to join his wife again, his little dove.
A pillar of flame reduced the boat to nothing, the ashes swirling togerther in their black watery grave.
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