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0blobthefish0 · 10 days

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BBF

bucky barnes masterlist | main masterlist

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader 2,394 words

a/n - thanks for the request anon!! hope you like it <3

God.

You couldn’t stand him.

You silently glared at the all too familiar figure from above the pages of your book as you laid on your stomach on the sofa. With a roll of your eyes you turned the sound up to your music and continued on with your reading. You could feel the sun, amplified by the large window behind you, beaming onto your exposed skin and filling you up with a summer comfort.

Not even a minute later, you felt your headphones being pulled sharply off from over your ears and looked up to see the blue-eyed brunette staring down at you with that infuriatingly condescending smile on his perfectly pink lips. You could feel your blood begin to boil before remembering the promise to yourself; you were all on holiday and you wanted to at least enjoy it, so the least the two of you could be was passive to each other.

“Mornin’, Princess,” Bucky greeted with a shine in his eyes - he’s known you’ve hated that nickname ever since he first said it.

“Afternoon, James,” you replied, returning the favour, before snatching back your headphones from his hand.

Your brother came up from behind and slapped Bucky on the back before wrapping an arm around his neck.

“You coming?” Your brother questioned and you noticed that the two were in their swim shorts. “We’re going to the cliff,” he grinned and you couldn’t help the smile growing on your face. You had all been eyeing it as soon as your dad had pulled into the driveway, perfect diving conditions; deep water surrounded the pillar of rock, multiple platforms at varying heights and easy to climb. There weren’t many other people around, but you have seen people jumping off of the rock, no one, not that you had seen, had jumped from the top yet.

“Fine,” you mumbled, getting up from your spot on the sofa and throwing your book onto the coffee table just to your side, “but you’re waiting for me, I am not walking by myself.” You instructed with a pointed look before walking off to your room to get changed.

A few minutes later, you came out in your swimsuit, a hat on your head and sunglasses resting on your nose with a bottle of sunscreen in your hand. You could see Bucky in the corner of your eye, however, your brother was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, where’s-” you started, but your eyes suddenly widened when you saw your book in Bucky’s hand. You quickly moved over to him and ripped the book away from his prying eyes, “Did Winnie never tell you not to take stuff that isn’t yours?” You huffed out, but he only smirked at you with a knowing look. Great. He was going to be insufferable.

“That the kind of stuff you like?” He teased as he took in your appearance, embarrassment etched across your face.

“Shut up!”

You moved to the other side of the sofa to hide your book under a pillow, before turning back to him.

“Where is he?” You questioned.

“I thought you told me to shut up,” he snarked and it made you want to wrap your hands around his stupid neck. You let out a deep breath and began to turn on your heel. “He went out to get some stuff ‘cause you took so long.”

“I was literally only like ten minutes.”

“More like thirty.”

“Fifteen.”

The two of you eyed each other, daring the other to start again.

“Whatever,” Bucky finally grumbled and got up from his seat. You heard his phone vibrate and stared at him as he checked it. “He’s on the beach, let’s go.”

The two of you trudged towards the beach in silence. Bucky a few paces ahead of you due to his ridiculously long legs.

“Can you slow down?” You asked as you jogged to close the gap between you. Wordlessly, Bucky matched your pace and you continued on in silence. You could feel the heat of the sun that was absorbed into the dark tarmac and the light breeze was welcomed as it gently grazed over your skin. Soon enough your shoes began to sink into soft sand and your brother waved with his whole arm in the distance at seeing your silhouettes.

The wind was much stronger as waves lapped up your ankles and you found yourself glad that your hair was out of your face.

“I brought sunscreen,” you announced and stepped back to face the two boys, grains of sand sticking to the wet skin.

“Already did it,” your brother quickly replied and ran into the water because you both knew that he was lying. You eyed Bucky as he made a start to follow your brother.

“Fine then, can’t blame me if you get skin cancer,” you called out and Bucky turned to you.

“Only if you get my back,” he shouted over with a shrug of his shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, “Come here then,” and he jogged over to you. You held the bottle over his hand and squeezed a dollop onto his palm before squeezing some onto your own and then threw the bottle into the sand. You rubbed your hands together before placing them on the hot skin of Bucky’s back and rubbing in the sunscreen as he worked on his arms. You did your best to ignore the way he felt under your hands and Bucky did his best to ignore the feeling of your hands on his skin.

You waited patiently, watching your brother scope out the rock, as Bucky finished getting rid of any white residue from his legs. “Wanna race?” He questioned tilting his head back to look up at you and a grin made its way onto your lips.

“On three?” Bucky jumped up and dusted the sand from his shorts.

“Always,” he replied with a cocky smirk as he moved into position and you did the same.

“Three!” You shouted and bolted into the ocean. You could hear Bucky behind you, but his words were inaudible - just a mess of sounds - before you dived into the cold, salty water. Your heart was pounding in your chest and you began to move upward to see where you were. Just as your head broke above the waves you felt a hand clamp down on your ankle and pull you sharply down back into the water. Bucky used the action as added speed and easily cut through the waves toward the finish line.

You gasped for air once you made it back out of the water and began to tread the water as you breathed in as much oxygen as you could. You watched as Bucky climbed up onto the rocks. Cheater. You let out an annoyed huff before leisurely swimming the rest of the way.

Finally, you pushed yourself up onto the ledge and climbed up to stand next to your brother, ignoring Bucky’s outstretched hand.

You peered over the edge on partially shaky legs. The fourth platform was much higher than you had thought. Bucky and your brother had already jumped and had made their way back up. Your brother had let out a loud laugh when he had seen you still standing there.

“Scared, Princess?” Bucky pouted and walked up to you. “You can do it,” he whispered and a hand made its way to press lightly against the back of your shoulder. You felt the pressure of his hand change ever so slightly and your eyes widened.

But you had realised too late.

With a hard shove, Bucky pushed you cleanly off of the cliff. Not even a scream passed your lips as you scrabbled, trying to grab onto the air, and you hit the water with a large splash. The ocean flooded every sense and you continued to fall through the water before finally pushing yourself upwards.

The boys leaned over the edge as they waited for you to resurface.

You exploded from the water angrily and shouted up at the boys. Your skin stinging at the harsh impact.

“FUCK YOU, JAMES!” You screamed with your whole lungs and flipped them off before disappearing back under the waves and towards the beach. They only laughed at your reaction and high-fived before moving up to the next platform. It was exactly what Bucky had expected from you.

It was dark now, and Bucky rested idly on the sofa - scrolling through his phone - when you walked in. He hadn’t seen you since you had swam away. It was clear that you had been in the pool. You smelt of chlorine. You paid him no attention as you walked into the bathroom and turned to the side to look in the mirror. Hiz gaze almost instantly finds the discoloured skin on the side of your hip and guilt fills his stomach; you must have hit the water pretty hard for it to already have yellowed around the edges of your dark bruise.

You didn’t speak to Bucky for the rest of the holiday.

Little did you know that you wouldn’t see Bucky again until a decade later.

Now you’re staring dumbfounded.

The last thing that you could have imagined when your brother had asked you to meet at the café for your annual catch up was for him to bring a friend.

“Y/n, you remember Bucky, right?” A somehow taller, thirteen-year older, much burlier Bucky smiles down at you. His hair is grown out and you can see small specks of grey buried in the scruff of his beard even though - you quickly did the maths - he was only thirty, maybe thirty-one. He looked mature, nothing like the young man you had last seen, he looked good.

“Ye-yeah,” you pulled your bag over your shoulder before shaking his hand, “of course I do.”

The three of you sat at your usual table and your brother soon left to order, leaving the two of you alone. You smiled shyly at him as you picked at your fingers.

“How have you been, Princess?” He asked and, when you looked at him with a wide smile on your face at the familiar nickname, he had that old, boyish smirk on his face.

You shook your head lightly before replying, “Yeah, I’ve been good, got my degree, got my heart broken, y’know all that normal stuff,” you trailed off. “What’ve you been up to, James?”

James. Bucky’s heart squeezed; he hadn’t been called that in years. He kind of missed it. He kind of missed you.

“I dropped out of college after the first semester,” he confessed and your eyebrows raised in surprise - he had gotten into his dream university, studying his dream course, “joined the army, made some good friends, got a cat, y’know,” he shrugged, “the normal stuff.”

“Wow,” was all you could say before your brother returned. And you spent the remainder of the time listening to them talk, sipping on your drink, letting time fly.

Bucky moved to pull up the sleeve of his left arm before quickly pushing the fabric down.

But you had seen what your brother hadn’t.

His steel-blue eyes caught onto yours and you pulled your gaze away.

Was that metal?

Your next meeting with Bucky Barnes would come much sooner than the last.

You were having a small house party, courtesy of your brother. Your guests were mostly drunk and the card games were in full swing when you heard a knock at the door. Were you expecting anyone else?

Cautiously, you put one heel in front of the other as you wobbled your way to the door - Natasha closely behind you.

“Bucky,” you gasped out when your eyes landed on the tall brunette, beside him an unfamiliar, equally as tall, blonde stood with a polite, awkward smile on his face. You could feel Natasha jabbing her fingers into your side at the scene in front of you.

“Dibs on the blonde one,” Natasha whispered, though not so quietly. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you watched Bucky’s poor friend’s face grow red.

“This is Steve,” He introduced and Natasha smiled at him, pupils blown.

“Are you staying for the party, Steve?” Natasha questioned, her voice like dark honey as his name rolled off her tongue.

“Uhh, yeah.” Poor Steve, he looked like a deer in headlights.

“Great, you can come sit next to me,” the red-head smirked and moved from behind you to hold onto Steve’s arm. The blonde sent a quick look back to Bucky, who only nodded his head and pushed him forward, as Natasha pulled him into the room.

“Ahah, sorry about that, she’s uh- she’s.. Natasha,” you chuckled awkwardly and stood to the side to let him in.

“It’s no problem, God knows he needs it,” he laughed as you shut the door. “I brought you wine,” he announced and held the bottle up.

“Oh wow, you didn’t need to do that, thank you, it’s lovely,” you smiled as he handed it to you. “You can, uh, sit down, you remember Banner and Wanda?”

---

You let out an exhausted sigh as you sat down on the roof, looking out into the city, a half-empty glass of wine by your side as the cool, night air breezed over your face. Silently, Bucky stepped through the open window and took a seat by your side. You turned to him with a tired smile on your face and offered him some wine. He shook his head and offered you a cigarette. You shook your head.

“Do you smoke?” You asked as you eyed the way he flicked the lid open and closed.

“Used to,” he answered.

“Why do you keep them on you?” You questioned, genuinely intrigued.

“I don’t know,” he began slowly, “comfort? I like the way the box feels.” You hummed in response, satisfied.

A comfortable silence blanketed over the two of you and Bucky watched as you enjoyed the cool air.

“What’s your cat’s name?”

“Alpine.”

“Do you have pictures?”

Wordlessly, Bucky pulled out his phone and passed it to you. You smiled at the white ball of fuzz.

“She’s adorable, I’d love to meet her.”

Bucky searched your eyes, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And there, on that roof, as you looked at each other, a young love that hadn’t yet budded began to grow again.

#female reader #x reader #reader #reader insert #blob's fics #marvel cinematic universe #marvel #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 2 months

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Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Part 7

reblog and comment plz <3 i read every one of them and love them all

also here's the masterpost

Damian knew Phantom used echolocation to locate this ravine in the first place, but the question was whether Damian could try the same thing. Damian hugged the walls of the cliff face, keeping his body flush against the surface, and lurking around corners and behind obstacles. The coast was clear.

Clearing his throat, he let out a high-pitched click, projecting it as far as his voice could carry. Immediately, his sensitive ears picked up the echoes coming back in layers. While the sound he sent was singular, the echoes came back in staggered waves, with layers of different pitches and tones and brief silent spells over the course of a millisecond.

This echolocation was useless!

Damian weighed his options. He could approach the surface, but there was no telling if Skulker had a vessel nearby where he could lick his wounds. The worst thing he could do was just hand himself on a silver platter to the creep. On the other hand, he doubted a flashlight would be very useful at the very depths of the ocean.

He still had to try.

Damian’s backside tingled with a light pressure, a feeling he’d come to associate with his lateral line. He armed the wrist ray on his left hand, and grabbed the Anti-Creep Stick with the other. Scanning the ravine revealed no other sirens or fish, but a slight stirring caught his eye.

Damian squinted at the crevice on the opposite side of the bark, not quite sure of what he was supposed to be looking at, until his nose caught the smell. There was definitely something there, but it didn’t smell like another siren the way Phantom and the teenage girls did.

An octopus then?

Octopodes were intelligent creatures, beautiful examples of the ocean’s biodiversity.

But Phantom needed sustenance, and he couldn’t afford for Damian to be picky. However, he put away the bat regardless. He wasn’t so cruel as to bash its head in to death. No, he would make it quick.

Damian unsheathed his claws, and coiled up his tail. Hopefully it wasn’t one of the poisonous varieties. He truly did not want to test Phantom’s immunities at the moment. Like a tiger waiting to leap, Damian kept his body still, and scrutinised the rock for the slightest deviation in colour…

There! Damian pounced. The octopus’s colour returned to its natural yellow pallor. His hands wrapped around its bulbous head. Score! Now to kill it. Sorry octopus, your sacrifice will not be in vain.

However, the mollusk was not about to give up without a fight. Suckered tentacles slapped at Damian’s face. The slimy skin of its head allowed it to slip out of its grasp. As Damian went to activate the wrist ray, a cloud of ink spurted right into his face, and he lost track of it.

Dammit! Damian let out some uncouth words under his breath, and banged his hand on the rock.

Hunting for food was difficult. Theoretically it should’ve been simple. Find something edible, kill it, bring it back, but everything Damian found was either too small to be worth the effort, or too big to risk his life. Multiple times Damian was forced to dive around corners or into claustrophobic cracks as ocean behemoths crossed his path. He couldn’t even find a patch of seaweed or algae this deep into the trench.

He was running out of options as the sun began to set above. Damian was starving himself, and it was getting frustrating. His body was not adapted to thrive in these waters, or maybe it was, and he just didn’t know how.

Either way, the exhaustion of the hunt began to take its toll on him. Far from providing for Phantom’s recovery, he had only wasted his own energy for nothing. Each failed kill, each accumulated bruise left him more and more anxious. That was why when he spotted a lone anglerfish creeping up from the depths, Damian decided to challenge it.

She, for male anglerfish were absolutely tiny satellites to the females, drifted into the twilight zone where Damian caught sight of her. She was almost half his size, and her teeth seemed as big as his fingers Her lure glowed brightly against the darkness of the deep ocean, as little fish wandered closer to the ‘sun’ and got chomped for their troubles. She was truly beautiful.

Hiding behind a small shelf, Damian aimed the wrist ray. The gills should allow him to subdue her quickly. Then securing the kill should be easy.

Damian waited. Just a little closer…

Then he fired.

The light of the shot was almost blinding. When the glare faded, Damian saw not a dead anglerfish, but a very much alive one dashing away. No! Damian sprung into a sprint after her. This may well be his last chance to get anything edible. He had to give chase.

Thankfully he’d gotten a lot of practice the last few others. As the anglerfish tried to round a corner, Damian grabbed its tailfin with his claws, digging in to try and slow it down.

Instead, the angler swerved to the side. Its powerful muscles slammed Damian against the rocky wall. Damian cried out in pain, and his grip loosened enough for the angler to get away.

Damian groaned. Not another one.

Damian lay there, dizzy from pain and exhaustion, watching morosely as the scraped scales healed themselves before his eyes, taking up valuable energy that he did not have to spare. Night fell. Without light, the next few quarries would be even more difficult, if not impossible. What he would do for Alfred’s cooking right about now. He would never make trouble at the dinner table again, if he ever got out of this alive.

His lateral line spiked up again, but Damian just felt tired. Sighing, he readied himself for another beating. How the might have fallen…

He noticed a beam of light shining from around a corner. Hushed voices followed. They were speaking Atlantean! Damian’s heart soared. He didn’t know they were this close to Aquaman’s territory! He knew there were a small number of settlements in the Pacific, but he never expected to stumble into one of them!

“Over here, I require assistance!” He called out.

The whispers rose into rushed conversation he couldn’t make out. Soon he found a light being shined on him, and two Atlantean soldiers, a man and a woman, pointing their spears at him. What?

“State your business here, siren.” The venom in the woman’s voice was palpable. Belatedly, Damian realised it was hasty of him to assume good relations between the two ocean peoples. However, this was his last shot.

“Please, my companion is injured and requires medical assistance. I swear on my name that we do not mean you harm.” Damian pleaded, with complete earnestness. He even added a whimper at the end to make himself look more vulnerable, more childlike and unthreatening, even if it was beneath him.

The man laughed. “Hah! I’ve heard that one before, punk. But if you think you’re gonna pull one over us easily, you’re shit outa luck. Your kind’s not welcome in these waters, now scram.”

Damian’s mouth gaped open. Did these people have not the slightest compassion? He often criticised his father’s habit of picking up strays, but deep down he knew that that trait was a quality of his character, and not a flaw. These Atlanteans could not even be bothered to spare him a glance outside of telling him to leave. Their eyes did not hold compassion, or sympathy, or even pity, only hardened wariness, and contempt.

“Please, I beg of you.”

The soldiers bared their spears at him. “I said scram, siren! Go back to your pod and stay there.”

Damian gave them his best glare as he turned tail and swam.

Only, he stopped once he turned a corner, but was still in earshot.

“Damn sirens, sinking to new lows. What next, a baby?” The male soldier muttered, his voice trailing off as the two returned to their patrol.

Patrolling soldiers meant an outpost, maybe even a settlement. And that meant food, medical supplies, and weapons. Damian knew a golden opportunity when he saw one. If these miscreants would not grant him the aid requested, then who was Damian to decide he didn’t need permission?

And so Damian stalked them closely. He trailed behind the duo of soldiers a dozen or so metres away, using his lateral line and nose to keep close track of their movements. A sense of calm quelled the ever present instinctual fear of being out in the open, as the familiarity of stalking targets washed over him. He almost didn’t have to try, with how terrible their situational awareness. If he were in king of the ocean’s shoes, he’d be very disappointed with his underlings’ performance.

Perhaps he’d have to snitch on them to Aquaman once this was all over. That would be suitable revenge.

The soldiers unwittingly guided him through the ravine, finally ascending. Above the cliff shelf, about two hundred metres away, stood an Atlantean settlement. Looks like he managed to catch them at the end of their route. Excellent.

Damian estimated the town’s circumference to be around ten kilometres, judging by parallax. He could just spot scores of Atlanteans going about their day, kicking their legs about to swim in a way that seemed so clumsy after seeing Phantom zip through the waves. The buildings stretched out from the flat sandy planes to jutting out from the sides of cliffs.

What was more important was the fields. Huge fields full of leafy plants he had never seen before. Along the cliff face, vines weaved between stone supports bearing strange fruits.

Damian grinned.

Now, all he needed to do was infiltrate.

#merman #dpxdc #danny fenton #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #angst #mermaid au #transformation angst #mermaid instincts #animal instincts #lateral lines #atlanteans #atlantis #it's a colony lmao

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ddejavvu · 8 months

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rooster edging u cuz hes jealous of hangman??!!

love ur writing btw <3

this post is 18+, minors dni.

this is pretty mean!dom!bradley/bordering on an infidelity kink perhaps? i'm not really sure... but everything's cool he's not breaking up with you i promise <3

You've never known Bradley to be so merciless. Intense, yes. Passionate, yes. But this? Lips wrapped tight around your clit, fingers abusing your fucked-out hole while he sucks your clit the way you suck at the head of his cock; hard, fast, and unrelenting.

He refuses to separate his tightly-puckered mouth from your clit, so he can't speak. But he does groan harshly, aggressively against the searing bud, only overstimulating it further.

The worst part is that it's working.

You attract more bees with honey, and all of that, but poison latches onto whatever sorry soul becomes entrenched in it, and Bradley's not going to let you up until you cum.

"Bradley- Bradley please!" You beg, but you're not sure what for. Perhaps to be released, but that's not what you want. You hate admitting that his heavy-handed, fury-driven approach is working, but there's something exhilarating about the way his honey-sweet demeanor has suddenly snapped and revealed a much sicker inside. Maybe you're begging to cum, maybe you're begging for more, maybe you're begging to never be let up, you don't know.

But when you tangle your hand in his short, spiky hair, near the back of his head, desperately dragging yourself closer to the edge of the cliff that you want nothing more than to dive from, he swats you away.

All at once he pulls away, yanking his fingers out of you and leaving a sickening emptiness behind, one that makes your stomach cave in. And his mouth is no longer sucking the life from your poor puffy clit, instead it's concealing heaving breaths that send his chest pumping.

Your cunt burns with abandon, with the overwhelming pleasure of everything all at once, and the disastrous emptiness of nothing at all. You're sure that the sting crawling up your gut is from whiplash, one second of everything to one second of nothing.

"Don't fucking touch me," He rasps, his voice raw from the way he'd spent all of his air abusing your clit, "You think you deserve to put your hands all over me after the shit you pulled today?"

"I didn't-!" You attempt, but he pinches your thigh between his nails to get you to be silent.

"Bullshit. You think I'm stupid? You wouldn't have let anyone else bend you over from behind to teach you pool. You don't even like pool! Just admit it. You've got a stupid little crush on Hangman, don't you?"

"No!" You gasp, desperate to clear your name in Bradley's eyes. But he scoffs, standing and pushing you back down onto the mattress with a palm flat against your chest when you try scrambling up to follow him.

He looms over you, eyes laced tight with irritation, "Stay down. If you really wanna get off, you can call Jake instead. Maybe he'll take pity on your poor, pathetic pussy."

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animasola86 · 3 months

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2: A Special Guest

This is a rather unusual story about a girl (reader) who comes across a special little friend that she likes very, very much. But does she love it more than she loves her boyfriend (Sebastian)?

Notes: This time, Sebastian goes skinny dipping with his girlfriend, but the Black Lake doesn't seem to be the best place to do so. Not that they care. Not yet...

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader Genre: Smut // Words: 2.9k // [READ ON AO3]

WARNINGS: NSFW! Explicit sexual content! Underwater sex! Fingering! (Additional tags on AO3!) Read at your own risk!

← CHAPTER 1 - // - CHAPTER 3 →

One month ago

“Sebastian! Come on!” you call to him as you wade through the knee-deep water of the lake, a cool breeze causing goosebumps to ripple over your bare skin.

You can hear his heavy footsteps and the splashing of water behind you, and as you turn around to him with a laugh, you see him begrudgingly following you, the muscles in his body tense, but that's not your focus point as you watch him joining you in the rather cold water.

A smirk breaks from your lips as you meet his hated gaze, though that's everything that's warm about him as it seems. He catches up with you, and you quickly wrap your arms around his waist and pull his chest against yours. His dark eyes bore into yours. “Don't say a word,” he hisses, and you chuckle deeply before you press your lips to his.

“Don't worry,” you whisper against his mouth, winking at him as one of your hands moves between your bodies and gently closes around his not-at-all-cold-resistent cock. He groans quietly at your warm touch. “I know a magic trick that can make it bigger...”

He rolls his eyes and gives you an exasperated sigh before he grins at you. “Why are we here anyway?” he whispers. “When we could cuddle on the couch in the Undercroft and do other things?”

“Because you promised to take me skinny dipping!” you reply and plant a series of light kisses on his cheek and down his jaw as you keep pumping your hand around him.

His breath hitches. “I never did such a thing!” he protests, faking indignation. “Seriously though, you know I hate the lake.”

You look up at him with a soft smile. “I know, love, because you fell in in your first year,” you coo, almost mockingly. “That's so long ago, though. You have to face your fear eventually.”

“Do you know what lives in this lake?” he goes on, his hands resting on your waist as he squeezes it lightly.

“A lot of magical creatures?” you reply with a soft chuckle. “Are you afraid of mermaids?”

“Have you seen mermaids? Those things are terrifying!” he retorts, shivering visibly.

“You've seen a mermaid before?” you ask with your eyebrows rising.

“Well, not a live one, but those statues in the Slytherin common room have given me nightmares since the day I first saw them.”

You laugh, but he shakes his head.

“Honestly, it's not even the Merpeople I'm wary about. There are Grindylows and Plimpies and Kelpies and oh, the Giant Squid! And probably bigger and also much smaller things I can't even name off the top of my head. The lake is full of life, and we certainly shouldn't be here to disturb it!”

Patting his back with a deep sigh, you tilt your head. “It's just a little bath, we don't have to dive down to the bottom, you know?”

He exhales loudly and stares at you, but then steps back and grabs your wrist, prying your hand away from his cock before he pulls you along as he starts to wade deeper into the water. “Let's stay near the cliffs, we should be safe there,” he says, and you follow him with a short giggle as you look up at the castle looming above you on its rock formation.

Once the ground suddenly drops, you find yourself floating on the surface, kicking your legs and moving your arms before you take long strokes through the water, inhaling deeply, holding your breath, feeling the cold of the air and the lake seeping into your limbs.

It feels amazing after having to sit in classrooms and the library for hours on end, forcing more and more information into your already overwhelmed head. Exams are no fun, so you've decided to ask your boyfriend of two years to join you for a quick and refreshing dip, and even though he has been apprehensive from the beginning, the prospect of being naked with you seemed to have convinced him in the end.

You turn onto your back and float on the surface, your chest poking through the water, your breasts spilling over your chest. You see him watching you as he swims closer until he mirrors your pose, his hand outstretched to touch yours as you both drift on the gentle current, staring up at the blue sky above. Slipping your fingers between his, you inhale deeply and close your eyes.

“This is nice,” you breathe out as he squeezes your hand softly and hums in response. You kick your legs lazily, feeling the water splash around your limbs, pooling on your stomach, caressing you with gentle waves.

You're completely relaxed, listening to the birds singing in the nearby trees, the seagulls screaming overhead, the gentle sway of the water as it hits the shore and retreats again, the hypnotising murmur of the lake below you.

And suddenly you hear Sebastian yelping in surprise. As you open your eyes lazily, you see him splashing about hectically, hitting at the water as if he is fighting an invisible enemy.

“What are you doing?” you ask with a grin, not leaving your position, only turning your head.

“Something brushed against my leg,” he says frantically, his brown eyes wide. You laugh loudly, and he stares at you darkly. With a sigh, you slip from your floating position and slowly swim towards him until your hands find his shoulders.

“I'm sorry,” you whisper. “I should be more supportive, hm?”

You lean in and kiss his cheek, your lips lingering on his wet skin, tasting the tang of the lake and the salt of his sweat. Your arms wrap around his neck as you press yourself against him while he struggles to remain afloat. His hands find your waist while your legs keep touching as you both tread water.

“Let's get out of here,” he says softly, almost pleadingly, but there is a heat burning in his dark eyes. You bite your lip and nod before you look around and gently push him towards a rock jutting out of the water. The shore is too far away and frankly, you don't like engaging in any sort of physical activity on the sand anyway as it gets everywhere.

So you opt to push him against the rock, the ground still too deep for you to reach but he manages to stand on it, even if his shoulders barely break the surface as he does. He grabs your waist and spins you around until your back is pressed against the stone, then he wraps your legs around his hips and holds you upright with his hands firmly planted on your bum.

Your fingers dig into his hair as you lean closer, eager to claim his mouth for a searing kiss that he meets with the same passion that burns through your own core. Your heart accelerates, your breath quickens, the cold air teases your warm skin in a way that makes you shiver deeply. Your lips close around his, your tongue eagerly pushing into his mouth to be met by his own before they engage in a wild dance.

You feel dizzy and light-headed, completely forgetting where you are if not for the gentle waves splashing against your entangled bodies. One of his hands moves around your bum cheek, teasing at your folds, and you gasp softly into his mouth when he slips a finger into your entrance, teasingly poking, then adds another, more teasingly spreading them inside you. You are focused on the kiss that's messy and hungry and so distracting you don't notice something (that's not Sebastian) brushing against your skin.

He keeps fingering you, changing the position of his hand to be able to press his thumb against your clit while he pushes three digits into your depths, widening your tight entrance for what's to come. You can feel his erection hardening against your stomach, glad the cold water didn't affect it too much after all. A bigger wave splashes against his shoulders, spraying water into your heated face, and you let out a surprised yelp when something colder, like a current, surrounds your body.

Unlike last time, he doesn't seem to mind it as he keeps kissing you, with his tongue invading your mouth as eagerly as his fingers dip into your core. When he retreats his digits eventually, your walls clench around nothing, and it feels as if they're sucking in the water. Your stomach tenses up as he leans away a little, pushing you to the rock with one hand while he grips his cock with the other, and you loosen the grip of your legs around him to scoot back enough for him to be able to enter you.

His eyes are dark as he watches you while he presses his tip firmly against your folds before he slips in with ease, your muscles relaxed from his ministrations and the water surrounding you. A deep moan escapes you as you lace your fingers around his neck, moving your hips slowly with him to help him in driving his length as deeply into you as possible. Once he's sheathed all the way inside you, a shiver runs through your body as his tip prods against your cervix, seemingly tickling your deepest spot, almost pinching it.

His hands return to grab your bum cheeks as he leans in to claim your mouth for a heated kiss, and you return it with fervour, deepening it with your tongue eagerly pressing against his. During your kiss, he starts moving his hips, retreating slowly before plunging back in with a force that makes you gasp into his mouth. His fingers dig into your soft flesh, guiding your body towards him as he pushes upwards, hips slamming together underwater, causing waves to ripple around you, water splashing against your bodies and the rock with every rapid snap of his pelvis.

You groan and moan together, unable to leave the other's lips as he picks up his pace slightly, your walls clenching around him, sucking him in only to ache whenever he pulls back. His thrusts are deep and deliberate, slowed by the density of the water, yet every stab feels as if he's trying to split you in two. You arch your head back, finally breaking the kiss as your mouth falls open to let a series of drawn-out whimpers tumble from your swollen lips.

The coil in your gut tightens as he keeps plunging deep and pulling out almost all the way before repeating it over and over again, slow and deliberate, forceful and with a strength that makes your thighs twitch, the repetitive motion causing your walls to burn despite the water lubricating them.

Your head starts spinning as your muscles starts contracting, tightening around his hard member, and once he notices the strain on your body, he moves faster, pistoning in and out, pushing your back against the rock with every motion, not caring about scraping your skin, though neither do you, as his quicker pace drives you towards heights you haven't expected to reach this fast.

You moan louder, quicker, your heart hammering inside your chest as your fingers dig into his wet locks, your body tensing up under his relentless assault. Each stroke sends shivers down your spine, each deep plunge is like a small lightning bolt crashing through your nerves, each thrust makes stars dance behind the eyelids of your tightly squeezed shut eyes.

Your whimpers are as erratic as your breaths, met by his deep grunts and strained groans as he holds his fast and steady rhythm until he can feel your walls clamping down on him hard, yet he keeps going, burying his face in the crook of your neck as you start to convulse against him.

The coil inside your stomach tightens, tightens more, and then, it explodes with a force that makes you cry out loudly, your voice carried away by the soft breeze, as your orgasm crashes through you like the biggest tidal wave you've ever experienced. Lights flash in front of your eyes, your limbs twitch uncontrollably, the movements of your body no longer in your power as you cling to Sebastian as if your life depended on it, as if you would be dragged away into the current if you wouldn't sink your nails into his shoulders.

Your orgasmic contractions make him stutter, his hands desperately gripping your bum cheeks as he presses you against the rock, trying to hold on as his own orgasm hits him with almost the same force. He groans loudly into your ear, his warm mouth pressed to your shoulder before he sinks his teeth into your skin as you feel his cock twitching inside you after he finally stills his rapid pace, buried deep within your tight spasming walls as he paints your insides with his thick seed.

You moan under the combination of sensations, your arms wrapped around his neck, your legs holding him like a vice as you keep him sheathed within you, your hearts beating frantically against each other. The shudders subside slowly, though occasionally you feel something like a pinch inside you, causing you to shiver all over again. You imagine it's his cock twitching, leaking the last drops of cum into you, as his body relaxes against yours.

Eventually you regain your composure as your limbs react to your commands again, and you loosen the tight grip of your legs around him, allowing him to lean back and slip out of your warmth. Your walls clench around his seed trying to seep out and the water trying to seep in, the mixture of warm and cold essences causing goosebumps to ripple over your skin. He releases your bum, and you're sure you'll have his hand imprints burned into your skin as a long reminder of your passionate experience.

You let your legs slip away from him, sinking deeper until your toes touch the ground beneath you, your chin tilted up as the water splashes against your face. You relax your sore muscles in the cold water while you look up at him. He smiles at you as he grabs your face gently, keeping you afloat and standing while simultaneously holding you still so he can claim your trembling lips for a sweet, slow kiss that takes your breath away all the same. Your hands grip his waist as you pull him against you, your bodies smacking together under the surface once more.

“I guess I can add one thing to the list of why the Black Lake isn't so bad after all,” he whispers hoarsely as he breaks the kiss to catch his breath.

You laugh softly, submerging your mouth to ease the burning of your swollen lips before you lean back up to kiss him again, water splashing around you as you throw yourself against him. He grabs one of your legs and hooks it around his hip as he deepens the kiss. You feel the cold current brushing against your heated centre again, a welcome refreshment after the exhausting rubbing and clenching, and you could swear you could still feel his cock twitching inside you even though it brushes against your stomach now, spent and relaxed.

You don't pay it any mind as you kiss him hungrily, rubbing your pelvis into his almost needily. He groans into your mouth, looking at you out of hooded eyes, before he complies and brings his hand back to your folds, gently caressing them before dipping his fingers back into your warmth. As he curls them inside you, you gasp against his lips, your eyes flying open as a deep shudder jolts through your body. As expertly as he usually fingers you, always finding the right spot to stimulate, you feel as if there's something else pressing against your walls, adding to the sensation.

Your breath quickens, and you can barely think about it as you come around his fingers once more, completely overwhelmed by the sudden orgasm piercing through your nerves. Tumbling against his chest, you hold onto him breathlessly, too light-headed to wonder about anything at this point. Your muscles contract, and he keeps stroking your insides with his fingertips, what he usually does to ease you down from your high, but this time it feels as if he's only pushing you further, up and up, the gentle touch too much to handle as you keep whimpering helplessly under the constant strain to your muscles.

It's when you feel both of his hands on your cheeks that your eyes fly open in slight shock, because the teasing continues inside your walls as if his fingers were still in your warmth. Your eyes wander over his freckled face, and for a moment you want to share your concern, but then you just press your lips together and smile bravely, silently enjoying the echoes of his touch – or at least you think, and hope, that's what it is.

He kisses you softly. “Are you okay?” he whispers as your body is still tense and shaking in his hold.

You nod, unable to trust your voice so you keep quiet as the sensations within your core continue to pulse through you. Luckily you're still submerged in the water, so the twitching of your limbs isn't as noticeable. He watches you closely out of dark eyes before he scoops you up into his arms and starts carrying you through the deep water towards the shore. You wrap one arm around his neck and lean against him, your other hand on your stomach. A sudden shiver makes you gasp, and even more so when you feel something pushing against your palm – from inside your body.

← CHAPTER 1 - // - CHAPTER 3 →

Notes: Body horror incoming? Maybe! Stay tuned! And thank you for reading!

[ MASTERLIST ] [ AO3 ]

#mysmut #smut #reader insert #x reader #female reader #f!reader #fem reader #dirty mind #ao3 writer #ao3 smut #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian x reader #sebastian sallow x reader

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vibratingskull · 12 days

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Mermaid!Thrawn chapter 9

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

You lay against the guardrail, wind in your hair, ocean spray in your nose. The boat speeds away from the shore swiftly, jumping on the waves.

“You know where you want to stop, (Y/n)?” Mr Vanto asks. “Not now, sir. I wanna go farther. “ You respond, “You’re a lucky gal, we even have a dolphin with us today!” He notes. You lean over the guardrail to observe the sea, and a dolphin appears, swimming swiftly next to the boat, its scars identifying it immediately.

Thrawn.

He swims in front of the boat to guide you and speeds up even more. You turn to Mr. Vanto “Follow that dolphin, I will dive with him.”, you take your wetsuit and enter the cabin to change. “Did you patch things up with Eli?” He asks loud enough for you to hear through the wood of the cabin. “No…” You admit, piercing your heart. “That can’t do, young one! Life is too short to sit angry at friends.”, “I know sir, I know… I try to speak to him, but he evades me.”

“Didn’t he invite you for dinner?” Mr.Vanto insists through the wall. You purse your lips, “I came to understand it was more Eli’s mother's idea.” you respond forcing down your mane in the combination. You reappear outside with your air tank and your flippers. The boat speeds up on water, following Thrawn’s dolphin form easily, you look back to see the cliffs of chalk diminishing rapidly. The beach and port are long gone. You lean over the guardrail, eyes fixated on the dolphin jumping before the boat. You fear several times that they will hit but Thrawn swims and evades gracefully each time.

When you came to Mr. Vanto you didn’t think he would say yes to bringing you with him, but he did. While you’ll be exploring the ocean’s depths he will try to fish in this new spot.

You see the dolphin disappearing deeper into the ocean, it must be the location.

“Stop here, Mister. I will dive here.” You warn him, “All right, be careful with all of this... equipment.” He stops the engines looking at your air tank and suit, "Yes sir!” you promise and let yourself fall backward into the water. The coldness bites your skin despite the wetsuit, you let yourself sink a bit deeper before unfolding your body and looking for Thrawn.

Less than a minute after you see familiar shining red eyes approaching, swimming almost lazily toward you. He circles your body several times as he always does before extending his clawed finger in your direction. You present your palm and he gently grazes it with his claw as usual.

This is your greeting. A thing only between the two of you. You observe him swimming fully underwater, his long hair crowning his head and floating around his beautiful face. His long tails undulating as he moves.

He is such an elegant and graceful creature you realize. As beautiful as in the legends, you would gasp before such a regal being if your lips were not wrapped around an air tank tube. As he keeps circling you, waiting for you to follow him, your latest discussion comes back to your mind.

“No.” He said plainly, “They refused.”You lowered your shoulders, of course, it was too beautiful to be true, visiting a mermaid city would be too perfect to be possible. But apparently, the mermaids in charge refused your demand.

It was less than one week after you asked Thrawn about seeing where he lived, and just by his expression when you finished speaking you knew it would be complicated. He was not pleased by the idea, and his kin even less.

You looked at him suspiciously, gauging him up and down, “Did you even ask? I know you didn’t like that idea at all.” You demanded. “You are right. I will not let a single human find our home and threaten us. But I chose you for the mission and you accepted, so I was ready to make an exception, for you. My superiors did not see the situation as I did and refused to access your demand.”

You snort, amused. His superiors? Threat? Mission? Do they have a military of any sort? “You speak like a soldier.”, “I do not know what that word means, but I am what you call a warrior. My mission, the reason for my existence, is to protect my fellows from any rising threat.” He said that with such an intense gaze you pressed your legs tighter to your chest in a soothing manner.

Back inside the cave where you met each other, protected from the blazing sun and sharing a new piece of salmon, you casually spoke. You asked questions about mermaids and he responded when he could, his protective mission asking him to keep some information hidden from you.

“I have another proposition to offer you.” He said after finishing his raw salmon, “I may not be able to bring you to our city, but would visiting my hideout would interest you?”

You looked at him gingerly, munching on your fish. His hideout? What does he mean by that? His home? Where he sleeps? His “no women allowed” space?

“Your what?” You asked, suspicious of what he was proposing to you. “My treasure collection hideout.” He reformulates, “Ooh! With all the pieces of art you collected?”, “Indeed” He confirmed, “Would it be acceptable to you?”

You nodded enthusiastically, gulping down your last bite of fish “Yes! Of course, I imagine it is isolated from the city then.”, “It is quite far away indeed. They do not appreciate me bringing back human artifacts, they ordered me to get rid of them so I hid them away.”

And here you are, swimming alongside him, getting deeper until you can see some reefs piercing the ground. You feel he is controlling his swimming speed to accommodate you, you know how truly fast he can be...

You navigate through the reefs, slaloming between deadly long spikes that could gut a boat easily. You suddenly feel his hand take yours, you realize his hands are large, way larger than yours... But soft and... inviting. He very gently pulls you forward, inviting you to follow him through the maze of cavities and rock arches. He knows perfectly where to go, and which path to take to allow you to pass with your air tank strapped to your back, it is probably why he circled you earlier, to get an idea of its dimensions.

And finally, you reach it. You see an opening in the black rocks and he heads towards it without hesitation and without releasing your hand despite being in a more spacious area. You enter the cave, holding your breath.

You see nothing. Obviously.

You take your light torch and flash it around the cavern. The natural form of the cave is chaotic but you can immediately see that everything is organized and placed very meticulously. Thrawn lets you go to let you observe as you please. Contrary to you he doesn’t seem to need any light to navigate in this pitch-black area.

You wander inside. There are a ton of items, cutleries, jewelry, fabrics and costumes, hair pins, actual statues,... And very old ones at that! None of those things are modern in the slightest.

Did Thrawn visit an unknown site full of untouched antic boats... Or is he much older than you first anticipated? How old is he exactly? What’s their lifespan?

You see his shiny red eyes moving around in the cave’s darkness where your light doesn’t shine. He lets you explore at your pace, visiting his cave on his terms.

The jewels shimmer under the light, shining bright. The boxes containing the valuables are literally vomiting jewelry and cannot be closed back. Pearls, gold, diamonds, necklaces, rings, and earrings, ancients witnesses of a distant path. You observe them intently, terribly curious. Thrawn suddenly appears at your side, startling you. He takes one beautiful ring, set with a big white diamond. You flash the light on it to observe it better, it must be worth a lot!

Out of nowhere he takes your hand and passes it onto your fingerring to contemplate; Your heart jumps in your chest, why this finger in particular? Why a ring? What is he-

“I had the occasion to observe humans, alive and dead, wearing matching rings on this particular finger through the years. Almost all adults wear one with another adult, but never the young. Is it the symbol of something important in your society?” He asked, rotating your hand in his to admire the diamond on your finger.

Oh... Oh.

Your heart calms down, he simply doesn’t know about wedding rings. You nod at his question.

His voice sounds... Quite different underwater. It is still deep and... Rich, but it sounds lighter? Like you were meant to hear him underwater. His voice is really beautiful, both on land and under the sea but it sounds almost musical here, like an added depth. Their vocal cords must be different than human’s.

“You can keep the ring.” He simply says. “It suits your eyes.”

...

Is he serious?

That thing must cost an arm! You can’t accept it. You shake your head and put back the ring in his palm. He considers you, almost surprised, almost... taken aback. Like he was pained you refused his present. But that expression disappears so quickly you must have dreamed it. He silently puts the ring back in the box and starts swimming alongside you, explaining to you where and how he found this or this artifact.

You even find painted portraits in their frames. They all have a weird greenish substance on them, soiling the true colors. You scrubs some with your nail, curious. “I am especially interested in those type of art pieces, but they dissolve and disappear so quickly in salted water.” He sounds almost disappointed, “I found a mixture of algae that can prevent the degradation and preserve them but as you can see it taints them with a green shade. I lost so many of those pieces before finding the correct formula...” He sounds pained like this loss was truly heavy on his heart. You put your hand on his shoulder and sign “okay” to him, he nods back, his stern expression and tone back immediately, “I find less and less of those in your new ships. Did you stop creating them?” he asks.

You nod again. “I see, a pity.” he simply responds. “Now you seem to have those rectangular realistic depictions.” He opens another box to take out a photographic picture in another greenish shade, “The formula is not the same and the material cannot be preserved indefinitely but the hyper-realistic style is fascinating. Some lack colors and are in black and white. I have no idea how you achieve such prowess, especially on such small formats, will you be able to explain it to me?” He inquires and you can hear and see true hope in his eyes and voice. You realize he really, really is passionate about arts and is craving knowledge.

You also realize his eyes are... extremely expressive. He seems to have full control over them but when he does let an emotion slip through, his eyes let you know without a doubt. His expression was as impassible as ever, but his eyes spoke the truth of his hopes and expectations.

How could you say no to such gorgeous eyes?

You nod again, completely entranced by your discovery. You would promise him anything for those shiny eyes... You slap yourself mentally.

“I thank you. I have to be honest, meeting you gave me hope to understand your art better, especially the newest techniques. I thank you for indulging me.” You nod again enthusiastically. He is a fricking merman, a mythic creature, of course, you are going to indulge him!

You keep swimming deeper into the cavern and you take sneaky looks at him, not flashing the light directly at him, but just enough in his general direction to be able to detail him discreetly.

His muscular and tall stature that intimated you the first time now appears... comforting, reassuring, and... terribly inviting. You would love to roam your hands on those large pecs and mighty shoulder blades. You feel your heart speeding and your throat drying as you detail his... utterly gorgeous body.

You already noticed that he was handsome in his own alien way, but at this very second it seems to hit you like a ton of bricks. This man is really, really well-made.

Are you... crushing on him?

No, surely not

But...

Are you actually?

He turns his head towards you, wondering why you suddenly slowed down, letting you admire his gorgeous face behind your goggles, hiding where your gaze explores his body. His, obviously, enchanting red eyes, his long, luscious hair, his turned-up nose, his sharp cheekbones and exotic forehead bumps. A truly harmonious and symmetric face... Truly beautiful.

And the richness of his deep blue skin...

As you stop moving entirely, too lost in your contemplation, Thrawn starts circling you slowly, his burning gaze on you, not leaving you for a second.

An alarm starts rigging in your mind. Is it... a predator tactic? A hunting technique? A deep instinct deep inside him ordering him to corner the weak prey?

It is terrifying.

It is... thrilling

Now that you can fully admire him in his liquid element, his true gracefulness and elegance irradiate from him, as his carnivorous and deadly features... You are suddenly hyper-aware of his shiny fangs and the claws of the hands that hold your so gently...

He seems to very slowly swim closer and closer to you, threatening to hug you in a deadly constrictive embrace with his full body and tail.

You gasp around your air tube, feeling his piercing red gaze burning your skin off your body. You suddenly feel exposed and naked in front of him.

What if... He lied? What if there was no city, no other mermaids, no mission and this is how he tempts his prey in his lair? What use does he have for those claws and pointed teeth if not to tear soft flesh apart?

“You are a peculiar being, (Y/n).” He speaks with his melodious voice, “You are surrounded by art and wonders but focus on me instead.” He sounds almost amused. Almost. “I understand species through their art and humans are truly... interesting. Complex and savage at the same time...You have all my interest and attention.”

This time you gasp so hard you actually spit out your air tube. You try to catch it back in a panic but Thrawn swiftly catches it and presses it back against your mouth. He watches you eagerly wrapping your lips around the mask’s tube for that sweet, sweet air, prompting him to tilt his head, squinting at you, “Truly peculiar indeed...”

You take deep breaths to calm down, realizing that you lost a lot of air in that short moment and you are using even more trying to calm down. You look up at your watch to discover that your air supplies are critically low. You desperately sign “surface” several times as you taught him beforehand.

Without any warning he swiftly grabs your hand and starts swimming at full speed, pulling you with him like you weight nothing. You exit the cavern so quickly the sudden light burns your eyes.

And he stops dead in his track.

You look around confused and discover another mermaid, guarding the exit.

Armed.

And visibly pissed off.

She opens her mouth to shout something you don’t understand. Thrawn responds, calm and serene, but in the same alien language. They exchange several lines, the female more and more infuriated and Thrawn seems more and more pressing.

You try very hard to be forgotten, hiding behind the huge stature of Thrawn but fully knowing she couldn’t have missed you when your watch starts beeping suddenly.

Air tank empty.

The mermaid switches her blade towards you in a very swift and practiced movement. She presses it at your throat, dangerously.

You feel your lungs pulsating with the lack of air.

Thrawn calls for her calmly, in an appeasing manner that could calm down an enraged bear. Thrawn gently pushes the weapon away from you, speaking softly. She claps something back sharply, pointing at you.

You squeeze Thrawn arm as a warning, feeling your vision darkening as your lungs feel like exploding.

He says one last thing to the woman that seems to take her aback, or at least take her by such surprise she lowers her weapon entirely and opens her mouth agape.

Suddenly, you feel Thrawn arms grabbing your legs, holding you bridal style and swimming straight up towards the surface at full speed.

You pierce the surface brutally. Thrawn readjust his grip on your bust to keep your head well over water.

You don’t react, don’t move, don’t tear the mask off your face to take a liberating gasp of air. And that is not normal.

Thrawn takes the mask off your face himself and gently shakes you, “(Y/n)?”

Nothing

He presses his ear against your breast. Your heartbeat is feeble but still here, worryingly weak. What he cannot hear however is the air entering and leaving your throat and lungs.

He takes your cheek with his clawed hand to raise your limping head up. “(Y/n), open your eyes, this is an order.”

Nothing.

He looks around to locate the boat. Nowhere to be seen, you’ll never reach the land in time.

He pulls your face closer, pinching your nose, and leans towards you. He presses his lips on yours, pushing his air inside your still lungs. He opens his gills wide to gather as much air as possible for each breath, holding you tight against his body to prevent you from sinking in the cold water. He opens your mouth wide to have better access to your trachea. He pushes air deep several times for two long minutes, his lips clasped on yours in a tight embrace. He has to make sure to not hold you too tight or he’s going to break your bones, to not accidentally bite your tongue off with his long teeth, to not inadvertently slash an artery with his long, sharp claws.

Humans are such fragile creatures but also reckless despite their weaknesses. He could hurt you with each of his movements, possibly killing you if he is careless.

But Thrawn is anything but careless.

He is conscientious and delicate. He modulates his strength to not hurt you in any way, he minds his teeth to not bite your tongue coming back to life, he positions his fingers for his claws to simply rest on the wetsuit and not pierce your flesh.

He holds you like something precious to him.

In some way... You are.

You are his partner in his mission, his teammate, and the key to helping him accomplish his capital mission. He cannot let you die without trying to save you. He is a predator, not a monster...

Suddenly you came back to life in his deep kiss, jerking forward to spit the water clogging your lungs and cough hard. He holds you above water as you almost dived your head back underwater with your large jerking motion, curling over yourself as your body contracts painfully to dislodge the rest of the water still inside.

You suddenly push him away, to his surprise. “You kissed me?!” You asks out of yourself, not knowing what kind of reaction you should have.

He brings to his secret lair, circles you in a weirdly sensual and deadly manner, drags you around like a sack of potatoes, and finally kisses you????? What is wrong with him?

“You were unresponsive and the boat was not reachable in a timely manner. I did what I must to save you.” He simply speaks like it was a very normal occurence.

“You...!” You cannot even finish your sentence with how confuse you are.

You cannot with this man! He toys with you for months and then plays the benevolent savior like he cares? The audacity of this man, the insolence the... The... HIM! JUST HIM!

“I advise you to calm down, losing consciousness may have unpredictable effects. I advise you to see one of your healers once back on shore.” He softly says, his two hands well visible in an appeasing manner. “Yes, thank you, I know!” You clap back.

The last thing you saw was the mermaid blade against your throat and when you open back your eyes Thrawn is kissing you deeply in a tight embrace.

Like...What the fuck? Could someone explain for once? Are all merpeople bipolars?

“Manage your efforts and listen to your body’s signals.” He keeps advising calmly.

You press your mouth in a thin line, trying to calm down. He did it to save your life, nothing more, nothing less. You do not know the significance of kissing in his culture.

You breathe deeply, feeling anger subsiding, but still confused and dizzy “All right.” You concede. “Good.” He nods satisfied, gently backing away.

“Thrawn, wait... I’m sorry.” You call him back, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”, “And I took no offense.” He simply replies, “On my end, I did not meant to shock you.”

You extend your palm to him and he gently grazes it with his claw.

All is well and forgiven. Or at least pushed under the rug...

The boat appears on the horizon, coming for you. “It is time.” Thrawn says evenly, “Will you explain your modern art techniques to me at our next meeting?” He says hopefully, “Yes of course.” You nod, “I thank you. Travel back safely.” He bows his head to you and dives underwater to disappear.

As the boat slowly approaches your rendez-vous point you cannot help but touch your lips, still feeling the ghost of his lips on yours. Shocked and deeply moved...

He kissed you...

@blueninjablade3 @al-astakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @pencil-urchin @twilekchiss @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay, @obbicrystaleo @germie2037 @davesrightshoe

#mermaid au #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn x reader #thrawn x you #thrawn x f!reader #mermaid x reader

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kissingghouls · 1 year

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The Prince

Part One: The House //ao3 // Part Two // Part Three missed The Count or The King?

Vampire Terzo x Female Reader

Summary: An unconventional summer job turns out to be way more trouble than you thought. // Part 3 of the Suck Club Series 💕

tags: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, horror themes, vampire violence, violence, blood, smut, a dash of enemies to lovers, and more tags on ao3

could not have done this without @ramblingoak. thank you for the encouragement, editing help, letting me cry sometimes, and making me pretty things. 💖💖💖

Part One – The House

This was not how things were supposed to go. Of all the worst-case scenarios you tried to prepare for, this was so far out of left field you hadn’t even considered it. It left you weak and vulnerable, sporting a split lip and bruised knuckles. This was definitely not how things were supposed to go. You blocked one blow and dodged the next, using the momentum to send the heel of your palm smashing into your attacker’s face.

Instantly, he dropped to his knees and wailed in pain. Blood gushed from his nose, pouring freely between his fingers and dripping onto the expensive rug.

“Terzo!” You shouted, trying to get the vampire’s attention. He didn’t even flinch.

Fuck.

Your opponent took the opportunity to dive at you, taking your legs out at the knees. Landing hard, the breath knocked painfully from your lungs as you hit the floor with a dull thud. He crawled over you, blood dripping from his face onto your clothes. That asshole actually smiled at you, teeth stained as crimson as the rest of his face as he brandished something shiny and sharp.

“What are you trying to do?” he asked as he pressed the metal stake into your sternum. He leaned into the weapon, the pressure pushing against your chest. “Are you trying to save him?”

Your answer was little more than a shout, the piece of metal now dangerously close to snapping the bone.

This was far from the summer you’d hoped to have.

A nice, relaxing summer job by the seaside. That’s what you were supposed to tell people you were looking forward to most. You even practiced it in the mirror a handful of times, trying to make your fake smile fit perfectly around the words. Trying to make your life look comfortably “normal” from the outside.

But “normal” didn’t weigh your backpack down with stakes and poisons. “Normal” got to vacation and play in the ocean, relaxing whenever it felt like it. You couldn’t relax until all this was over.

Until Terzo Emeritus was dead.

Outside the window, the tree line sped past, bright green smears against a cloudless sky as the train roared toward the tiny town. The car jostled slightly as the wheels followed the slow curve of the track, bringing you parallel with the southern edge of the coast. Further along the horizon, that brilliant blue dipped down to meet the ocean beyond the jagged, rocky cliffs that cut a harsh line against the shore. It was the kind of sight that probably looked amazing at sunset, but instead of picturing it you turned your eyes back to the screen in your hand.

“…the grandest of all the summer homes of the time: Meliora House. The Gilded Age estate rests on a breathtaking fifteen acre plot overlooking the ocean. The grounds are covered in spectacular gardens…”

You squinted at the image, tuning out the narrator’s droning voice. You’d seen the special a hundred times by now, knowing exactly when the angles of the shots changed and the timestamps for each room of the ridiculous mansion. The ballroom, the reception hall, the conservatory. Rooms encased by ridiculous amounts of marble and ornamental plaster designed to impress and shame every other asshole with money in the late 1800s.

What those magnates didn’t know, and the documentary failed to mention, was just how impossible it would be to compete with the Emeritus family. Back then, they were considered little more than a group of eccentric brothers who came from old money. As true as it was, no one realized how old the money and the brothers truly were. They’d had hundreds of years to amass the fortune required to build the most impressive house on the block and even more time left to enjoy it.

What did money matter when you would live forever?

The gentleman seated next to you leaned over the armrest and softly cleared his throat. “It’s closed.”

You slipped your headphones from your ears, quickly pausing the video to look over at him. “Sorry?”

“Meliora House,” he said with a kind smile. He was an older man with the kind of soft, wrinkled face that reminded you of your own grandfather. He pointed toward your phone as he continued. “The family closed it for the season. Said it needed renovations or something. Hope that’s not where you were headed.”

You shot him that perfect, practiced smile. “Oh, no. I’m afraid I’m here on business. No time to visit all those old mansions.”

“Ah,” he said with a nod. “What business are you in?”

“Extermination.”

“Heh, that like pest control?”

“In a way. I deal mainly with large predators. The kinds of things that are dangerous to the human population.”

He blinked. “Like…bears?”

“Something like that,” you agreed with another smile.

The breaks squealed below. The grinding sound of the train slowing to a stop thankfully cut off any other questions the man might have had. You slung your heavy backpack over your shoulders and gripped the handle of your suitcase until your knuckles went white. It was now or never.

The iron gate of Meliora House stood tall in front of you, a small, tasteful “closed for the season” sign dangling from the middle. You slipped through, following the tree-lined drive toward the house. It grew taller and wider with each step, its stone façade blotting out the sky. None of the usual adjectives suited the property. Grand. Stately. Ostentatious. All of them paled in comparison to the real thing.

Meliora House was built under the Emeritus family name, but it quietly changed hands in the 1920s. Shuffling the property through shell corporations over the last one hundred years was enough to make people believe the brothers who built the mansion were long gone. Like other mansions in the area, Meliora House was regularly used as a wedding venue and opened to tourists in the summer under the disguise of preserving the history of the grandiose home. Unlike the other homes, Meliora House was still under private ownership and had not been gifted to any preservation society. That small thread had been enough for you to unravel the history of the notorious vampire family over the last century.

As soon as they announced the house would not open for the season due to needed “repairs,” you knew exactly where at least one Emeritus vampire would be. It took a little more research to figure out which of them would take up residence in the old mansion. Secondo was heavily favored after word spread that his favorite club had burned to the ground. You were happy to play along with the idea, even encouraging others to believe it, but you knew he was far too flashy to find solace in the antiquated summer home. It was much more likely to be occupied by one of the younger Emeritus brothers.

Terzo and Copia leaned more old school than Secondo, both having heavy preferences for castles, chandeliers, and from what you heard, interesting clothing choices. But Count Copia had reportedly coupled up with a younger vampire and would most likely be returning to his castle for the summer, leaving a trail of bodies in his wake. That left only Terzo and his companion demons.

It was pure coincidence that you found the employment ad they’d placed. But it was a series of careful, calculated moves that secured you the position. You weren’t going to miss the chance to take out one of the brothers.

Inside, the mansion swelled around you, endless stretches of veined marble floors and archways leading to the kinds of rooms “normal” people had no use for. Even you had to admit the video hardly did Meliora House justice, getting the scale of the grandeur all wrong. It was a remarkable sight, like a relic stuck frozen in time, but you couldn’t help but think of all the other things unlimited riches could provide.

It was vastly different from the tiny one room loft you called home.

Ahead of you, the caretaker Omega rattled on as he’d done in the video, hands making broad sweeps as he spoke. Neither of you mentioned the odd silver mask that covered his face during your initial introduction or even during the assessment of your responsibilities. You saw no point in talking about it now either. Your resumé alluded to the fact that you had seen some weird shit in your time working for other prominent families with strict NDAs and you weren’t about to blow your cover in the first five minutes.

Another staffer, Alpha, sat at the bottom of the stairs with his masked head in his hands while somewhere above him glass shattered.

“Your turn,” was all Alpha said as he stood and moved past the two of you.

“What the hell are two still doing here?” a voice rang out angrily, echoing against the vaulted ceilings.

The three of you turned your attention toward the landing. The vampire wore little more than an annoyed look as he sneered at his demons, black hair framing his face as he rested his hands on his slim hips. Even half-dressed, he commanded the room in a way photos could never hope to capture.

“Well?” he huffed, his odd white eye seeming to glow with his irritation.

“We were just leaving,” Omega said quickly and spun around to head for the door.

Alpha caught him by the collar, keeping him from getting away. “This was your idea,” he hissed.

Terzo groaned. “You don’t need my permission. You have the summer off, just go. Get the fuck out.”

“Um, sir,” Omega started carefully with a nervous shake in his voice. “We—well, sir, remember how we talked before? It’s a lot of work to keep up the house and we thought—”

“He thought,” Alpha corrected.

“Right. Eh, well, this is the assistant I hired to help you.”

The vampire groaned and took a step to the side, leaning over slightly. His painted face was set in a frown as he squinted down at you, his actual expression unreadable. He crossed his arms over his bare chest and studied you a beat longer. He looked younger than you expected, the evidence a little more visible on his lithe frame than his face could show. A pair of grey sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, but as he shifted his stance, they almost gave up completely. There wasn’t much of the vampire left to your imagination—the thatch of black hair and the very distinct outline of his dick were hard to miss.

Fucking vampires.

“Oh, come on,” Omega hissed and rushed up the stairs. He gripped the waistband of Terzo’s pants and yanked them up enough to cover his boss’s decency. “We talked about this.”

Terzo slapped his hands away and started shouting, the hint of his accent becoming stronger with his frustrated emotional state. “What is this? What are you doing? I put on pants. What more do you want?”

“Sir, please,” Omega pleaded. “We have company. This is why we have the pants rule now.”

“Why are you doing this? Who are you calling ‘sir?’ What the hell are you wearing?” he yelled and flicked the metal mask covering Omega’s face.

“I—we—”

“No. You get out of my house, now,” he ordered, pushing Omega away once more. He stomped down the stairs, pausing in front of you as he landed on the main floor. He tilted his head as he looked you over, eyeing you curiously, appreciatively. “You can stay.”

He turned on his heel and headed in the direction of the dining room without another word.

Alpha sighed and shook his head. “I’ll be outside.”

Omega approached you slowly, his voice low. “He’s…Mr. Emeritus has been under a lot of stress recently. I’m afraid he’s not himself. I apologize for his outbursts, but I don’t think I can guarantee it will be the last.”

“Omega, it’s fine. Really. He’s far from the first difficult client I’ve had,” you said with a slick smile.

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “He’ll probably keep to himself most of the time. Mr. Emeritus can be a bit peculiar about his privacy, so don’t be surprised if you don’t see him for a couple of days. He’ll show up eventually.” He leaned in closer to whisper, “I think he’d die if he went without attention for too long.”

“I heard that!” Terzo snapped from the hallway. “Stop calling me Mr. Emeritus and get out of my house!”

Omega quickly shook your hand. “Well, good luck,” he mumbled as he stalked off.

The heavy front door closed with a loud slam as the two demons made their exit, leaving you and the vampire in silence. He turned and closed the space between you before dipping into a deep bow.

“Buonasera Signora.”

“Uh, hi?”

His head snapped up, a playful grin resting on his painted mouth. He took your hand and brought it to his lips, barely ghosting a kiss against your knuckles. “Welcome to Meliora House. Please allow me to—” He paused and looked around the reception hall. “Bellezza, where are your things?”

“Right here?” you replied with a shrug and motioned to the small suitcase at your feet.

“No, but…where?” He looked at you like he was about to short-circuit. “That’s all you have? For the entire summer? Stai scherzando con me?”

“You’re wearing a lot less than this right now.”

His brow furrowed. “I have closets, bellezza. Many closets.”

“Well, good for you, I guess?”

He blinked rapidly. “Sì, it is good for me? But you…this cannot be enough? How is this enough?”

You folded your arms over your chest. “You do realize that not everyone lives in a Gilded Age French chateau, right? Like, you’re aware that some people live in studio apartments?”

“Yes, bellezza. I’m not an asshole.”

You snorted. “If you say so.”

He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head, mumbling in Italian. “At least let me show you to your room. Where you can put your one bag.”

Six days. Six excruciatingly long days trapped inside a vampire’s fucked up approximation of a summer home. If you weren’t already here to kill the vampire, the last week would have easily driven you to murder him. Even in a house this size you couldn’t avoid Terzo for long. You’d been assigned the room directly across the hall from him, the one boundary he chose to respect amongst the countless others he ignored. While he never entered your space, it didn’t stop him from creepily lurking in the hallway at odd hours.

No matter how badly you wanted to get it over with and take him out for good, you couldn’t rush this. Vampires were always stronger than they appeared. It was a fact you couldn’t afford to forget, even if he was small and odd. And mouthy.

Terzo never ever shut up.

Meliora House might have been empty of other people, but it was filled to the brim with all things Terzo Emeritus. He left things everywhere, a bizarre collection of designer clothing shed wherever he felt like it. A path of destruction and debris always followed him, like a one-vampire tornado tearing through every room of the mansion he passed through. And when you weren’t stuck cleaning up after Hurricane Terzo, his voice could be heard on every floor, belting out anything from opera to modern top 40.

He didn’t seem to have a care in the world. It never once occurred to him that his doom could be across the hall, lying in wait for the perfect moment. And you were, of course. You were studying harder than you ever had for any test, memorizing his movements and routines. There were weapons planted strategically throughout your room, everything within arm’s reach in case the vampire became too bold or too hungry. In reality, there was little-to-no risk of that happening. Most of the time, Terzo forgot you were even there.

It was almost humorous to watch this powerful immortal be repeatedly surprised and sometimes startled by your presence. Not a single thing you knew about the fearless killing machines seemed to apply to the third Emeritus. As far as you could tell, the most dangerous thing about him was an addiction to sappy low-budget romance movies. Which he watched constantly. At all hours. At full volume. With a soundbar.

If you had to hear another big city woman fall head-over-heels for a small-town baker, you were going to burn the entire place to the ground.

Your respite came in the form of the company car Omega had left for you to use at your leisure. The temperature had dropped after sunset, the dark clouds of a storm rolling over the ocean. It was the perfect night to drive along the scenic route and lose yourself in your thoughts without the constant noise and mess of the creature that dwelled within the mansion. You pulled your sleeves over your hands and walked a little faster toward the car, uninterested in getting caught in the rain. As you slid into the seat, you reached over your shoulder for the seatbelt when the dome light burst to life, illuminating the dark interior of the vehicle.

The vampire was in the car.

Blinking in disbelief, you shook your head and reached across the center console, prodding at his body in the hopes that you were hallucinating. “What the hell are you doing?”

Terzo shrugged from the passenger seat, the soft leather creaking under him as he leaned away from your threatening hand. “I’m bored.”

You poked him in the side, confirming he had really just climbed into your car without asking. Ok, maybe it was his car, but Omega had left you the keys. “You’re bored…so you just…”

He turned to look at you, his white eye shining oddly in the dark. “Just what?”

“People don’t really tell you no, do they?”

He shrugged again and focused his attention on the storm clouds in the distance. “I don’t really know many people.”

You kept quiet, opting to start the car instead of trying to tackle Terzo’s existential crisis.

As you pulled the car onto the main road, you focused on slowing your heart rate. Being this close to the vampire physically without a weapon wasn’t really part of your plan. There wasn’t anything you could use to defend yourself in the car either. Unless you wanted to count that tiny vial of pepper spray in your bag. You doubted he would even blink at that.

Your body jerked involuntarily as Terzo shifted in his seat. He leaned his elbow against the window as he pointed his body toward you, his head lazily resting on his hand.

“Is it the storm?” he asked.

“What?”

“Something is making you nervous. Is it the storm? You’re…jumpy.”

“No,” you sighed, running your hand through your hair. “Can I be honest with you?”

“Ah,” he said softly, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “It’s me.”

“Oh, you fucking wish,” you choked out, holding back a laugh.

“Bellezza,” he began, his voice sultry and low. “It’s ok. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, eyes darting over the road as rain began to pelt the windshield. “I am not afraid of you.”

He nodded once, his stupid smirk turning into a smile.

“I’m not! It’s just…we don’t really know each other, you know? And you just kind of jumped in the car? It’s a little unnerving.”

“I told you I was bored.”

“Sure, but most people, you know, ask.”

“Oh.”

The quiet lasted only seconds before Terzo began flicking every switch and turning every dial within reach. He turned the heat to full blast and, despite the rain, held down the button for his window letting it descend completely as water splattered the interior and his clothes. Slowly, he let the window rise halfway before bringing it back down again. When the window held no more joy, he leaned across the console and started fucking with the radio.

“Can you stop?” you snapped, fingers itching to slap his hands away.

“What does this do?” he asked, clicking several buttons repeatedly.

“I don’t know,” you answered, taking a measured breath to keep from screaming at him. “Isn’t this your car?”

“It might be, maybe?”

“Shouldn’t you know how your car works?”

“There are A LOT of buttons here!” He emphasized the statement by pressing as many buttons at the same time as he could reach. The air was on now, cold blowing straight in your face. “Omega usually makes me sit in the back. Not as much to do back there.”

“I can see why,” you ground out through gritted teeth.

The rain shifted to a heavy downpour, the drops loud as they bounced off the car. Terzo reached up and pushed one more button. The moonroof slid open, torrents of rain soaking the two of you instantly.

“Oops” fell from his lips with a childlike innocence that could not possibly be real.

You jerked the car to the right, pulling onto the gravel shoulder as you slammed on the breaks and threw the car into park. You flung open the door and stomped to the edge of the scenic cliff the road followed, rocks crunching under your feet as you came to a stop. Bending at the hips, you began to scream at the ocean.

“Bellezza, what are you doing?” Terzo yelled as he ran over and pulled you away from the edge.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re insufferable?”

He bit his lip and nodded. “Sì, Reginetta tells me this.”

“Ok, well, whoever that is, they’re right.”

“Eh, she’s mio fratello’s girlfriend—”

“Not the point, Terzo,” you shouted. “You have two choices, Emeritus. You can get in the back and stop touching shit or you can walk home.”

“I’ve upset you.”

“Yeah,” you replied flatly.

“Mi dispiace, bellezza,” he offered solemnly, bending into a deep bow. “I did not mean to upset you. I will keep my hands to myself.”

“Just get in the car, Terzo,” you instructed, shaking your head.

The two of you began to walk back, Terzo falling behind you as he made to climb into the back.

“Look, you can sit up here if you swear you won’t touch anything else. Deal?” you offered, thinking better of having the vampire at your back.

He placed a hand over his heart. “On my Mother’s grave, bellezza.”

“Oh my god, it’s not that serious. Just get in.”

You couldn’t wait any longer. You had to kill him and soon, otherwise it might cost you your sanity.

Killing a vampire was not as easy as books and movies made it out to be. Sure, the methods were mostly correct: stakes were remarkably effective, as was beheading. Fire was often too messy and risky to guarantee much of anything except structural damage. Crosses and holy water were complete bullshit, but modern hunters had found an effective way of debilitating the soulless monsters.

By some happy accident, an inventive hunter found a way to produce a toxin that caused a paralytic effect in vampires. It made the difficult and often extremely dangerous task much more manageable for a team of one—provided there was only one vampire you were after. Too many new kids had underestimated their enemy only to stumble on an entire nest and become breakfast.

There was no way in hell you were going to become a victim of Terzo Emeritus.

You propped your boot on the antique chest at the foot of your bed, carefully slipping the loaded syringe against the leather. Your weapon rested against your spine, tucked neatly into the waistband of your jeans. There was no more time to waste; sunrise was in less than an hour and if you didn’t make a move soon, you would lose your chance and your nerve.

The solid wood door creaked no matter how quietly you tried to open it. Normally, the sound was covered by the blaring copywrite-free scores and shitty dialogue of those awful movies Terzo consumed like air. But tonight, the mansion was disturbingly quiet. Crossing the hall, you skipped the areas of the old floor that groaned the most, hopping from one foot to the other until you reached the vampire’s bedroom.

You leaned into the door, turning the handle slowly and hoping the thing gave way without a sound. It swung wide, the scent of fresh-cut flowers punching you in the face. You paused at the threshold; lip worried between your teeth as you scanned the room. You thought you’d prepared for everything, weapons at the ready, senses dialed to eleven—but you had never once considered the interior of the vampire’s room.

The space was light and open, a splash of soft pastels, gold, and plush velvet. Gauzy curtains swayed in the breeze from the open balcony doors, the thick, heavy blackout curtains pulled far back. There were white roses everywhere, no surface left untouched by a vase of at least a dozen or so. A massive bed encased in pintucked velvet in a soft lilac color lay against the far wall, its gold filigree headboard stretching halfway up the vaulted walls. Above, a chandelier adorned with crystals and sculpted roses hung in a circle of ornate plasterwork.

The idiot vampire lived in some Marie Antionette Rococo nightmare. But that didn’t trouble you the most. Of all the ridiculous things that made up Terzo’s bedroom, there was one particularly important thing that was missing: him.

The bed was suspiciously empty, a mountain of decorative pillows still in place like it hadn’t yet been touched. You rolled your eyes, a heavy sigh heaving from your lungs. As if the vampire needed to be more annoying, he had completely ruined your plan. Another quick look past the dark doorway of his bathroom confirmed he wasn’t in his suite. Unless he was somewhere lying in wait for you.

You gripped the stake at your back, slowly sliding it out of your waistband when you heard it. As you moved toward the balcony, a soft, melodic voice floated up from below. There was no way it could have belonged to the irritating hundreds of years old vampire, and yet there he was barefoot in the garden singing a solemn tune.

It was beautiful.

Quickly, you retreated from his room, snaking your way down the marble stairs and through the empty ballroom. Killing the vampire on the lawn wasn’t your preferred method, but he forced your hand. A steady chant of now or never repeated in your head with each step as you bounded off the terrace toward him. You reached behind you, fingers secured around the stake as you moved closer.

Terzo stopped singing and cast a weary glance in your direction before shaking his head. He turned his attention back to the delicate blooms of the soft pink peonies that lined this section of the gardens, kneeling in front of them. “It’s late, bellezza,” he said quietly, running a finger through the petals of an open flower. “You should be in bed.”

“Technically, it’s early,” you countered. “Shouldn’t you be inside? The sun is about to come up.”

He shook his head. “Don’t worry about me, dolce. A little sun won’t hurt me. Come, sit.”

You shifted from one foot to the other, weighing your options.

“I won’t bite,” he offered with a coquettish grin.

Stupid fucking vampires.

“What are you even doing out here?” you asked as you dropped onto the grass next to him. Carefully, you folded your legs under, a hand coming to rest just above the syringe. He could move faster than you, but fuck if you weren’t going to put up a fight if you had to.

“What are you doing out here?”

“My job?”

He snorted at that. “Sì, I forgot. Hired to babysit a grown man.”

“What’s your definition of grown?”

“What’s yours?”

“I mean, I thought you’d at least be able to dress yourself,” you teased, gesturing toward the vampire’s overly casual crop top and tiny shorts.

He smiled as he stretched out on the lawn. “You’re welcome to borrow anything you’d like.”

“Hard pass.”

He shrugged. “You’re the one sleeping in your jeans, bellezza.”

“I don’t—you know what? No.” You moved to stand, but the vampire wrapped a hand around your wrist. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m sorry, bellezza.” He let go of you and sighed. “I’m afraid I can’t do much of anything right these days.”

You rolled your eyes. “Are you always so fucking maudlin?”

He scrunched up his face in deep thought. “No, actually. This is somewhat new for me.”

“What? Forlornly walking through the gardens at night while singing isn’t your favorite pastime?”

“My brothers would like you, dolce,” he replied with a soft chuckle. “I am sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” you admitted. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

He cracked another smile, his head lolling over to look at you. “Why would you? You said yourself we don’t know each other.”

“You’d be surprised what I’ve learned about you in the last few days.”

“Would I?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow. “Tell me, dolce. What is it you think you know?”

“Oh, you know,” you started, holding yourself back from mentioning the whole 900 year old vampire thing. “You can’t sleep without the TV on. All your comfort films involve a woman falling in love in a small town she doesn’t want to be in, but learns to love by way of handyman dick—”

“That doesn’t tell you anything!”

“It tells me you’re anxious about something, otherwise why would you rewatch the same three movies with the same basic plot on a fucking loop for a week? Which, by the way, you should probably get your hearing checked too.”

He frowned at you as he sat up, pulling a handful of grass from the lawn and letting the blades fall through his fingers. “So what?”

“So, nothing. It doesn’t mean anything, it’s just an observation. But if mystery millionaire bachelor is what you’re looking for, it’s not really what you’re giving off.”

He laughed softly to himself as he stood. He leaned down, plucking one of the beautiful peonies from the garden and held it out to you. He raised an eyebrow as you hesitated to take the thing from him before relenting. “You’re not as mysterious as you think you are either. Good night, bellezza.”

You turned to watch the insufferable ass saunter back inside his ridiculous mansion. Terzo Emeritus knew nothing about you. You’d made sure of that before you arrived. Whatever he thought he knew was all part of the bullshit cover story you landed on his front door with.

You groaned and flopped onto the grass; limbs splayed every which way. You were letting the vampire get in your head, something you absolutely could not afford to do. You had eighteen hours to come up with a better plan.

Pretend everything was normal. Go about your day as scheduled while avoiding the vampire as much as you could. The plan you settled on wasn’t the most inventive, but it was better than acting on impulse and getting yourself killed. You neatly tucked away the weapons from the night before, slipping them under your pillow to hold while you slept. It did little to comfort you, but at least they were there. Now you had nothing to keep you safe, just an empty hope that the vampire would leave you alone.

If only your stupid job wasn’t to tend to him.

You knocked on his bedroom door, pausing to wait for a response. The house was quiet again, the loud sounds of the TV dulled somewhere around noon. With no sign of the vampire, you sighed and pushed your way into the ridiculous room. The vampire was there, stretched out on his stomach on the bed that might as well have been a fucking wedding cake in an outfit that could not have been comfortable.

Who the fuck lounges around in leather pants?

You cleared your throat, but Terzo made no move to acknowledge you. “Um, didn’t you hear me knocking?”

“Yes,” he said sharply and turned the page of the book he was holding. “Can’t you see me ignoring you? Now, go away. I’m busy,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

You moved further into the room, squinting at the cover of the book. A handsome cowboy dressed in red stared back at you with a damsel in distress pinned to his side. “I can see that. Moving on to romance novels, huh?”

He looked over the top of the book, an increasingly familiar deep frown setting into the lines of his face paint. “Is that why you’re here, bellezza? You wish to be romanced?”

You coughed out a laugh. “By who? You?”

The frown reached his eyebrows, a crease forming between them. “I don’t think anyone has ever laughed at me before.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry. It’s just…you’re really, really not my type.”

He nodded, his expression relaxing as he raised one eyebrow. “Ah, sì. Women?”

“No…well, ok, yes. Sometimes.”

Women? Sure. Vampires? Never.

He shrugged easily. “I would not judge you, bellezza. I have had many adventures in my day—”

“Ok! I don’t want to hear about your depraved sex life—”

“Depraved?!”

“Oh my god. I’m not doing this,” you huffed. “Do you want clean sheets or not?”

“Oh!” He perked up immediately and hopped off the bed, his sour mood disappearing as his feet hit the floor. “Are they still warm?”

“I—maybe?”

“Grazie mille, fiorellina,” he sang as he swept past you. He reached over and pressed his finger against your nose, grinning as you swiped at him. “Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone, eh?”

Oh, you were going to fucking kill him.

Night fell on Meliora House. The moon, round and full, reflected off the calm ocean just beyond the reach of the grounds. You stared out at the water, lingering just a beat longer in the window of the sitting room, surrounded by the opulence of a forgotten era. It may have been a giant waste of money, but the house was starting to grow on you. Even more reason to make a move and get the fuck out as fast as you could.

Stilted dialogue backed by a Christmas tune bounced down the hall, signaling the vampire was at least in his room. You traced your steps back, skipping the creaking spots just as you’d done the night before. This time, you were better prepared. Armed with weapons strapped to your thighs and loaded syringes tucked into your boots, you quietly slipped through the door.

Bursts of red and green color lit the room, flashes dancing from the screen on the wall. Terzo lay motionless atop a mountain of pillows and blankets, cradled in the kind of luxurious comfort only he could afford. He would have looked so peaceful if it weren’t for the man leaning over him, a stake raised high over the vampire’s heart.

There was no time to think about your actions. You hurled yourself across the room, vaulting off the edge of the bed to slam the sole of your boot into the other hunter’s face. He stumbled backward, a sickening grin sliding across his face as he spat out your name.

Who the fuck?

It was enough of a distraction for him to land a solid blow to your gut. Of all the fucking ways this whole operation could have gone wrong. Part of you expected another hunter to show up eventually, but you were so sure you’d be gone, and the vampire would be dead before you had to worry about it. Whoever this guy was, he didn’t seem interested in combining forces.

You worked too hard to get yourself here. All that training and research and torment you fought through and for what? For someone else to show up and take it from you? You weren’t going to let that happen.

Your opponent swung fast, catching your lip and splitting it before you could pivot away. But he was young, inexperienced, and too quick to celebrate, letting himself get carried away enough that he didn’t expect the blow you landed at his ribs or the next. You blocked and dodged, feet moving fast as he came at you. The heel of your palm snapped his nose, sending him to his knees.

“Terzo!” you shouted as you turned. Your stomach dropped as the vampire failed to move or acknowledge you at all. That little fucker had poisoned him.

Your attacker lunged at you, knocking you off your feet and sending you crashing to the floor. Your chest burned as you struggled to catch your breath, struggled to pull yourself away from the other hunter. He had you pinned, blood splattering from his nose and onto your face as he closed a hand around your throat. You clawed at his wrist, feet kicking wildly as he denied you air. He smiled down at you as he pushed the silver tip of the stake against your skin.

“What are you trying to do?” he asked cruelly, shifting his weight to press the weapon to your sternum. “Are you trying to save him?”

Your answer was little more than a shout, the piece of metal now dangerously close to snapping the bone.

A pained cry left your lips, the sting of metal slicing into your chest as the weigh on top of you doubled. Over your screaming assailant’s shoulder, Terzo’s mismatched eyes locked on yours. His expression was feral and predatory, maybe a touch protective as he opened his mouth wide. You closed your eyes as tight as you could, not wanting to see. You heard it all—the sound his fangs made as they cut into the flesh of the man’s neck. The grunt of pain that left your attacker as the artery burst under the pressure of the vampire’s teeth. Hot, thick blood spilled over your face and neck, crashing like a copper-scented wave but you didn’t dare look. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

The weight lifted from your chest, finally allowing you to take a full breath. The air around you was soaked in the disgusting taste of blood, that metallic twinge that coated the entire room. You finally opened your eyes to find Terzo standing over you, the lifeless body of a vampire hunter still clutched in his grasp.

Red dripped onto everything around you, pouring freely from the space where the vampire had bitten your attacker. It dribbled out of the man’s throat and onto the vampire’s bare chest and down, staining the silk of Terzo’s pajama bottoms as he drank from the man for what felt like hours. When he’d finally had his fill, he tossed the body aside, careful to keep it from falling back on you.

You wanted to run. You needed to run, but your body was in such a state of shock that you couldn’t push yourself up. Once all that adrenaline wore off, you knew you were in for a world of hurt if Terzo didn’t kill you first.

But he didn’t make a move to attack you. Instead, he offered you a hand that you were too shaken to take. He bent down and hoisted you to your feet without a second thought or seemingly any effort at all. You swallowed hard, realizing you were chest-to-chest with what you’d been taught was a soulless monster.

And he’d saved you.

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears, drowning out the sound of his voice as he poked and prodded at you. The sting of your tongue running over your busted lip combined with the sharp taste of blood—your own and whoever the fuck that guy was—brought you back to your disturbing reality.

Terzo wasn’t going to kill you.

“Did—did you just save my life?” you asked, your voice hoarse from the hunter’s hand squeezing your throat.

“It only seemed right since you were trying to save mine,” he countered.

“I—”

“It’s nothing, bellezza—”

You cut him off by slamming your mouth against his. It was an ugly, brutal action, barely capable of being called a kiss, but the way his arms locked around your waist told you he didn’t care. Without a word, he pulled you into the massive bathroom, the horrible pink tiles sending a shock to your brain.

He moved away from you just long enough to reach into the shower and turn the taps. He returned, hands moving fast to pull your bloody clothes from your body. He smirked at the sound of your favorite knife clattering against the floor as his pants joined the mess of material on the floor. He picked you up, maneuvering you under the stream of hot water, the red slowly washing away from your bodies. Steam began to rise in the little glass room, the air thick and humid as Terzo pressed you against the wall. His mouth was on your neck, his tongue and teeth dancing playfully against your skin. You gripped fistfuls of his hair, a low moan leaving his throat as you pulled him off.

“No biting,” you ordered flatly.

“I wasn’t—"

“Bullshit you weren’t.” You let a hand fall away from the hair on his head, opting to run it through the patch on his chest that grew thicker as you trailed further down. His eyes snapped shut, mouth forming an O shape as you wrapped your fingers around his annoyingly impressive length. Slowly, you pumped his cock in your fist, squeezing as you reached the base.

“Don’t tease, bellezza,” he growled as he crowded you against the shower wall. He pressed his lips to a space below your ear, working at it until he coaxed a soft moan out of you. He reached between you, fingers brushing yours as they dipped into your entrance. He urged your leg around his hip with his other hand as his thumb lazily pressed against your clit.

“Now who’s teasing,” you hissed, trying to angle your hips for better contact.

He grinned as he pulled away and placed his hands on either side of your head, trapping you under him. “Così bella.”

Your eyes met his. “Are you going to keep being weird or are you going to fuck me?”

He rolled his eyes, letting out a heavy sigh as he dropped his arms. “No patience, bellezza.”

Whatever argument you were about to make died in your throat, replaced by a surprised squeal as he picked you up. Your legs locked around him, back resting against the warm tiles as he lined himself up and slid the head of his cock through your folds. He pressed against your entrance, a slight whimper leaving your mouth as your cunt stretched around him. He kept his eyes trained on where he slowly disappeared inside you, his grip tightening with each push and pull. He slowly pumped into you, taking his time before burying himself completely.

He closed his eyes, letting his head rest against your shoulder as your body adjusted to the fullness of his cock.

“Terzo?”

He snapped his hips forward, a slick smile gracing his face as your eyes rolled back. He set a rough pace, his fingers pressing bruises into your hips as he held you there. He fucked you against the wall, pounding into you until you were whining and begging.

“Terzo, I—”

He angled himself just right, finding that perfect spot inside you that made you shut up. You had never come so hard or so fast in your entire life, but you locked your arms tight around his neck as stars danced in your vision. And he was just as content to repeat the action, trying to coax the next orgasm from you while his thrusts began to stutter.

“I—” he choked out.

“S’fine,” you mumbled, too blissed out to care. “Don’t stop.”

He nodded once, his pace picking up as he pressed his face against your shoulder. He came with a low moan, his cock emptying pulse after pulse into you as the water began to run cold. Clarity hit you both as he lifted his head, those mismatched eyes locking onto yours.

“I—we should—” he started nervously, moving to set you down.

“Yeah. Ok,” you agreed stupidly as you cleared your throat.

Absolutely not how the summer was supposed to go.

thank you for your time! please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list! xo Ghouls

#my writing #my fics #suck club forever #papa emeritus iii x female reader #vampire terzo #papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #vampire terzo x reader

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metallicaislife · 8 months

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Daydream Pt 2

A/N: this is a follow up to Daydream

Daydream Pt 3

Genre: Angst with a hopeful ending

Word Count: 889

Warnings: Drinking alcohol and mentions of Cliff's death

I was walking down the street minding my own business when I accidentally ran into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” I said.

“Y/N?” They said at the same time. A voice I hadn’t heard in person in years. I looked up and my eyes widened.

“James?” He looked so different and yet exactly as I remembered.

A smile broke out on his face, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

After the accident, I unintentionally drifted apart from the rest of Metallica. They were busy with tours and I filled the hole in my heart by working more and keeping myself busy. Months went by, then years slipped through my fingers in the blink of an eye.

I was brought out of my thoughts when James brought me into a hug.

“I’ve missed you.” He said. I held back tears and hugged him back.

“I’ve missed you too.” I told him.

“Do you have time to grab a drink?” He asked as he pulled away. I looked at my watch and nodded. “Great!” He grabbed my hand and my heart skipped a beat.

James and I had always been close before we drifted apart, he was my best friend, I still considered him that despite the years we’ve spent apart.

We weren’t far from a little dive bar so we went in and he pointed out a small table and said he’d be over with drinks shortly.

I sat down, I couldn’t calm my heart.

I was brought out of my thoughts again as he sat across from me placing a Mojito in front of me and taking a sip of his beer.

“You remembered my drink?” I asked.

“Of course, I remember lots of things about you.” He replied, “How are you? What have you been up to?” He asked. He didn’t give me time to process his first statement.

“I’ve been well. Nowadays all I do is work. How about you? How are you? I listened to ‘And Justice for All’, it was really good.”

“I’ve been fine. Thank you, I appreciate that, I’m glad you’re still listening to us.” He grinned, “we’re actually getting ready to release an album soon.”

“I’ll always listen to you guys, I’m a day one fan and I’ll brag about it to anyone. I’m excited to hear your new album.” I smiled and he chuckled.

It was as if no time had passed at all. He told me stories of shenanigans he and the rest of my friends had gotten up to in the past few years. We conversed with ease, I missed this so much.

“You know, I had the biggest crush on you.” James confessed.

“Me?” I asked, pointing at myself. James chuckled and nodded.

“But you were Cliff’s girl, and I respected that. I’m just curious, and you don’t have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable, have you been in a relationship since Cliff?” James asked. I took a deep breath processing his confession.

“I’ve been on dates, but I haven’t been in a relationship. It isn't because I think I had one shot at love and Cliff was it. I’m just scared. I don’t want to give myself so wholly to someone when there is a chance they could be gone in the blink of an eye.” I answered, my throat growing tight with emotion. James grabbed my hand and gave a comforting squeeze. He didn’t say anything, but just knowing he was there and being able to share this with him helped.

“Sorry.” I said and wiped a tear, “let’s circle back to the fact you had a crush on me.” I said as a grin took over my face. James shook his head with a small chuckle.

“You’re still stunning.” He said. I could feel my cheeks heating up. “But that’s a lot of information. We can circle back to that another night.” He winked.

“I’m sorry I never reached out.” I apologized.

“I didn’t reach out either.” He said.

“Let’s not go years without seeing each other again.” I said.

“Now that we’ve crossed paths again, I’m not letting you go.” He said firmly.

I smiled softly at him in adoration.

“If I’m going to be stuck with anyone I’m glad it’s you. I know it’s silly, but I still consider you my best friend.” I replied. He smiled at me.

“Can I walk you home?” He asked, I nodded.

He settled the bill, despite my offering to pay.

Then we walked in a comfortable silence with his arm around my shoulder.

“Okay but like how long did you have a crush on me?” I pestered.

“We can talk about it another time.” He answered.

“You brought it up!” I jabbed him playfully in the ribs. He held his ribs pretending I’d actually hit him hard.

“Yeah, and now I’m telling you to wait. Can you be a good girl and be patient for me?” He asked. I halted as my cheeks caught fire. He looked back and chuckled. He pulled me back up to him and kissed my forehead.

I’d gone years without seeing my best friend, and now I don’t think there is going to be a day that goes by where we don’t see each other. The thought makes me happy, but most of all it makes me feel hopeful.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to request or chat :)

-Isa

#metallica #metallica x reader #metallica imagines #metallica scenarios #james hetfield #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield metallica #Spotify

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puddle-nerd · 4 months

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Flirt

Summary: Guess he really was trying to flirt with you after all… Not that you were complaining in the least.

Prompt #3 for my submission for #𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒𝐃𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

Story Tags: No use of Y/N, Female Reader, Omatikaya | Blue Flute Clan, Na’vi Language, Friendship, Flirting

Na’vi Translation: Iknimaya – (Na’vi for “Stairway to Heaven”) is a treacherous but fundamental rite of passage in which a young Na’vi hunter must select, capture, and successfully bond with one of the ikran who nest in the Hallelujah Mountains Ikran – also known as a banshee are large, dragon-like aerial predators that can be found roosting on the various cliff sides on the Hallelujah Mountains often being used by the Na’vi for traveling long distances, for hunting from the air, or even during times of war Kelku – home | house Syaksyuk – also called “Prolemuris”, they are chattering, non-aggressive tree dwellers that lives in the canopy, as opposed to the dangerous forest floor and are similar to the monkeys and apes of Earth Uniltìranyu – Dreamwalker

AO3 Link

It was a rare day when you didn’t want to do actual work of teaching Jake the ways of your people – you usually had a very good work ethic amongst the people of your village, so when you wanted to skive off like you did today… instead of teaching him anything super important like you were supposed to, you decided to take a run through the forests of your home and were also watching his reaction as he took in the beauty and marvel of your world. So full of many beautiful colors and so much life. You ducked around tress and dodged vegetation, giggling as the Dreamwalker loped after you, your amber eyes sparkling as you noticed that way that he switched between chasing you and admiring everything that he didn’t have on his own home planet. You sniggered and came to a halt, laughing as he absently lurched into you, his golden gaze stuck upwards upon a conspiracy of syaksyuk feasting on fruits some meters overhead, their blue and green patched skin good camouflage when they weren’t swinging through the trees or gliding through the air with their skin flaps.

“They will not hurt you, Tsyeyk Suli,” you commented.

Jake glanced down at you and then back up at the small-ish creature. He grinned and watched as a mother syaksyuk held her baby her front and was able to grab another fruit to feed herself and the infant creature with her other limb.

“Come,” you murmured, tugging on his arm.

Taking off into the trees, you came to one of your favorites and began to climb, nimbly scaling the moss-covered bark upwards. Jake was improving in skill and remained only slightly behind you as you both rose higher and higher up the gigantic sapling. And when you got to one of the top branches, he made a noise of awe, just as you had hoped to garner from him. You grinned and gazed out at the picturesque landscape of your forest and sighed, unable to imagine anything more beautiful than this. And in the distance, you could see Hometree, at least a dozen of ikran flying around its upper branches.

“When you are ready, Tsyeyk Suli,” you told the Dreamwalker, “you will perform your Iknimaya and bond with your own ikran. It is… a most freeing feeling… bonding and flying with them.”

“So, it is one of your all-time favorite feelings?” Jake asked, watching the dragon-like creatures dive and flap through the air playfully for a moment longer. You nodded and let out a contented sigh. The two of you sat down upon the moss-covered branch together, his knee brushing against the outside of your thigh and he asked you curiously, “What is another of your all-time favorite feelings? Or… uh, what is one of your favorite things to do besides flying? Maybe something we could do together?” You raised a naked brow bone at him and grinned as his sapphire cheeks flared a darker color and he stumbled over his words.

Was he attempting to flirt with you?

You grinned and asked, “Can you swim, uniltìranyu?”

And that was how you and Jake found yourself at your favorite swimming hole after another run through the forests. Luckily, there wasn’t very many people there to spoil your time with him, just a couple of mothers and their childlings at the far, shallow end of the lake and you dove into the refreshingly cool water, smirking as Jake sauntered into the water much more sedately behind you, a grin splitting his face nearly in half. You splashed him when he got too close and then it devolved from there, swimming around each other, smacking and throwing water at each other and just enjoying the day as you saw fit. His hands seemed to linger every time he got close to you, his grip possessive as he pulled you close before you escaped with a squeal each time.

When the two of you had begun to tire, you crawled out of the lake and settled upon the lush grass next to each other, his tail coming to intertwine with yours. “When I become a full member of the Omatikaya, what other kinds of things can I expect?” he broke the silence with that question. You rolled your head towards Jake and cocked a curious browbone at him. You admitted that you didn’t understand his enquiry and he sighed, rubbing at his face before trying again. Jake bit his lower lip and rolled onto his side, propping his chin upwards with a bent arm, his muscles flexing under your gaze. He explained, “I am only considered one of The People after my second birth, yes?” You nodded, agreeing with his question. “Once I am a full member… will I be allowed to… have my own home like I have seen others have?” You weren’t sure but you felt as if he changed his question at the last moment. You nodded again, expounding on his knowledge as you said, “You will be able to have your own kelku. You will also be able to choose a woman – or a man – to mate with as you like,” Jake smirked, “as long as they choose you in return, uniltìranyu.” His gaze swept over you and grinned, meeting your gaze with a heated set of golden eyes, “I have that to look forward to.” You flushed as he winked your way as well. Guess he really was trying to flirt with you after all… Not that you were complaining in the least.

𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸 · ─────── · 𖥸

Originally Posted: 03 February 2024 Word Count: 927

@crybabies-heart, @cryingwhilereading, @ikeyniofthetayrangi, @erenjaegerwifee, @bambithewriter, @lloreya

AO3 Link

#𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐢𝐞𝐬𝟏𝟒��𝐎𝐋𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 #avatar #na'vi reader #jake sully #jake sully x reader

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christiansorrell · 8 months

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Play-By-Blog #1: The Isle by Luke Gearing

Welcome to my large-scale play-by-post of The Isle by Luke Gearing! We are playing this adventure with its original system, The Vanilla Game (although this will likely be adjusted somewhat to fit the Play-By-Blog format). This is the first proper entry, but you can check out PBB #0 to get a feel for the ideas behind this play-by-blog concept and at character creation. For now, let's lay some groundwork.

How Play-By-Blog works:

I write up the situation, NPCs, and more, just like a DM.

You vote in the poll to help decide the character's course of action.

I roll the dice, resolve actions, and write them up next week.

So on and so forth for the rest of the adventure!

Notation:

[Text in brackets is out-of-character text!] "Non-italicized quotes denote text from the original adventure!" "Italicized quotations denotes NPC dialogue."

Last week, LOADS of you (over 150 people) voted for our character's class and Magic-User won in a landslide. Using that, I randomly rolled a character (using this Vanilla Game character generator). Let's get to know them a bit before we dive in.

The Player Character: Medon Girdou - Magic Cutpurse

Medon Girdou, a cutpurse turned unlikely wizard, is in a bad way. You don't stage a solo raid on a place like the isle if things are going well. Somewhere back out in the world, there are forces calling for Medon - calling on their debts, calling for their death, or calling them home (when they'd rather be anywhere else). Now, the chance of riches, enough to possibly settle the score, has brought them here to the isle.

[Because Medon is braving The Isle alone, they are coming in at Level 3 to help turn the odds very slightly in their favor. This isn't their first raid.]

[We'll let any background and whatnot build out during play. Feel free to propose your own ideas about what kind of person Medon is and what may have come before but remember, Medon's true character will come out during play and be determined by the actions they take!]

With their katana in one hand, spellbook in the other, and a pocket full of cheese and lead figurines, they step onto...

THE ISLE

"The isle is tiny, a mere 40 acres of forbidding rock and low grasses. Seen from the sea, the monastery buildings stand adjacent to the peak of the isle, lit by a fire atop a tower. The monks never let the fire go out.

"Cliffs rise above the bitter sea, mauled by waves and weather. Fallen stones jut like Frisian horses, big enough to skewer whales. The abbot knows this, because he has seen it."

You've convinced Cioran, a local fisherman, to grant you passage to the island, claiming to be a pilgrim in search of your god. Once a month, he delivers supplies to the monks on the isle out of some sense of obligation you can't quite place. You watched him sit and listen to the sea in the dark of night for hours aboard the boat.

Cioran drops you at a small cove on the island's eastern side [C], wanting to see you on your way before sailing around the island to the main jetty. He's not sure how the monks would take to an unexpected visitor on his boat, even if you are a pilgrim. He'll check this cove again in a month, if you are looking to return to the mainland. His ship slides away quietly around the northern cliffs.

You are alone.

A bloated corpse, fought over by a dozen or so gulls, is bobbing facedown in the water of a small, rocky alcove.

A stone-carved staircase leads up out of the cove, coated in wet, slimy moss fed by the ever-humid conditions. [Saving Throw to not fall down the stairs and take damage: Success!] Taking your time, you manage to safely climb to the top and look out across the rest of the isle.

[You can see out to 3, 4, 5, and 6. 2 and 1 are partially obscured.]

To the north [3], you see a squat formation of man-made stone some 30 or more feet high, scars and bird shit marring the surface.

To the northwest [4], you see a collapsed building of some sort, a loose pile of rubble.

To the southwest [5], you see a scenic view of the western sea atop of an hill topped with an outcropping of rocks.

To the south [6], you see the Monastery, the reason you came to this place. The supposed home to a number of riches, meant to bring glory to a god but that do little more than languish here in obscurity when they could change everything for you, if only you can get to them.

Beyond these places, you can make out a partial view of a sizeable collection of graves to the far north [1] and the upper branches of a large tree to the northwest [2], past the collapsed building.

The choice now, of course, is...

You can now read PBB #2 HERE.

#ttrpg #indie ttrpg #fantasy #vanilla game #the isle #play by blog #play by post #luke gearing #meatcastle PBB

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sidsinning · 2 years

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OOF OK THIS ONES PRETTY DEEP STRAP IN

It’s hard to talk about Ariel without diving into the movie itself so this gonna be long lol

Ariel is actually an amazing character for half the movie RIGHT up to the point she enters the whole voiceless arc. She's so multilayered and her actions in the movie make a lot of sense because of her age and strained relationship with her father. People call her spoiled, a brat, or dumb bc she gave up everything she had for “a boy”. Which if you’ve seen my track record by now, you’ll know I disagree with lol.

Ariel is free spirited, adventurous, naive, daring, bubbly, curious, etc. She knows she doesn’t want to just be a pretty bird who sings to please everyone, but that’s the role she has been condemned to. No one sees Ariel, they see her prized voice. The beautiful princess with the angelic voice. She is told what to think and want by everybody around her and when she tries to express otherwise, no one listens to her. Everyone listens to her voice, but not what she’s saying.

1.) Ariel is not selfish or spoiled. She is someone who knows she has a (mostly) loving family. She has been forced into hiding her true thoughts and desires because her father only reacts negatively, always screaming at her and silencing her whenever she tries to explain herself. She doesn’t constantly complain or snap at people when she doesn’t get what she wants, only getting angry when her father screams at her first and when Sebastian snitches on her which causes her entire safe space to be destroyed.

2.) She. Is. A. Teenager. She is in a very tumultuous time in her life with many emotions running rampant which, if not properly cared for, WILL cause her to make rash decisions and rebel. I am not only referring to the Big Moment where she becomes human, I mean those subtle actions like swimming to the surface when forbidden to and secretly hoarding countless human artifacts in a small cave. Small little things that are the brightest part of her day. It is only when her father is at his most abusive, angrily destroying all her most valued possessions right in front of her, does Ursula take advantage of her, stealing her voice to make that horrible deal, IMMEDIATELY when she is at her most broken down.

Now, I know people immediately run to “wow, she gave up her entire amazing life and precious family just to be with this dude who doesn’t even know she exists just like that?” No. She has always desperately wanted to be human and explore what it’s like up on land for who knows how long, it’s Ursula who used her intense (and first!) crush on Eric to sweeten the deal. So, it wasn’t just for a boy.

See. Look at all that delicious character building. She has an I Want™ song and everything.

AND THEN THE VOICELESS ROMANCE ARC

Listen up I know what people say to defend this. Eric was entranced by Ariel’s voice just like everyone else when he first met her, but through those 3 days he had to get to know, and fall in love with, the real Ariel who wasn’t this angelic siren he pictured in his head. She puts forks in her hair, blows pipe smoke into people’s faces, rides horses across cliffs for the lols. When Ariel is in the human world she isn’t solely focused on Eric, she is living her dream, excitedly walking through streets on her feet as she’s always dreamed, exploring what the town has to offer.

But,,,they literally never properly communicate with one another on what’s going on in each other’s heads. Ursula says Ariel needs to make Eric fall for her in 3 days without her voice and Ariel is like, “How do I do that without talking???” Ursula basically goes lol men don’t care what you have to say you just need to be pretty.

And I know Eric doesn’t only like Ariel for her looks but,,,Ursula wasn’t exactly wrong??? Ariel doesn’t let him know about her interests, thoughts, feelings, nor does he ask for them. They go on the equivalent of one date where both seem to wanna see each other more after lol. Bc of that all the true love talk is very meh to me.

Basically once she becomes human, Ariel remains mostly passive for the rest of the movie. Her dad saves her from the contract, Eric saves her from Ursula (though I acknowledge her small lil save to Eric beforehand), then she becomes human forever and sails off into the sunset. The lesson she learns is sort of unclear here, even though she apologizes to her father. All her issues and mess ups are fixed for her in the end and she gets what she wants. It’s just unsatisfying to see how little of a role she plays at the end of the movie.

So, I don’t think Ariel is very admirable tbh, but I do think she is one of the most relatable princesses. A rebellious teenage girl with an overbearing father. She isn’t quite the strong feminist icon like Mulan or anything, but I do appreciate how much thought was put into her personality. She’s a fully realized and 3 dimensional person- emotional, driven, flawed, charming, gullible, bright, impulsive, etc. Which is really progressive looking at where she is in the timeline of Disney princess films. A step in the right direction. It's mainly the ending where I have the most criticism for with these movies lol.

SORRY THIS WAS LONG BUT MY FEELINGS ON TLM ARE EVEN LESS BLACK AND WHITE THAN SOME OF THE OTHER PRINCESSES

#ask #the little mermaid #ariel #sidrabbles #disney

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foxintheferns · 2 days

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Wild Heart - Chapter Five

A Twilight-Paul Lahote Fanfiction

Be sure to read the Previous Chapter !

Harley Sullivan’s POV:

When I woke, it took my brain several moments to recall the events of the evening before. My heart jumped firmly against my rib cage as I joltingly remembered the plans for the day. Cliff diving with my four new friends: Jake, Seth, Embry and Jared. I sighed and rolled over onto my stomach, letting my face smush into my pillow, clenching my eyes shut and telling my anxiety to go fuck itself.

It was 7:45 in the morning. The boys were coming by the cabin around 10 to pick me up before we went to the cliffs.

I decided it wasn’t worth showering, considering I’d be bathing in the Pacific Ocean in a few hours, but tried my best to make sure I didn’t look too disheveled. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, my hot cup of coffee steaming in its purple ceramic ‘I <3 Maine’ mug on the bathroom counter. I met my own eyes in the reflection, and tried to decipher what I saw in them. They were pools of deep, grayish green. My mom had always told me that my eyes were like the forest; that ever since I was little, my emotions could be seen in them, rolling like wind through trees, gusts of joy, of love, of hurt, of rage. She was one of the only humans on this planet who had understood me, had seen my affinity with feeling so passionately as a strength, not as a weakness or burden. I’d always wanted brown eyes, like her. They were warm, gentle, soft. But they glowed with rich color and sparkled with light when she laughed or sang or danced. The green of my eyes reminded me of my father.

I tried to understand what I saw in them now, but they only stared back at me expectantly. Maybe there was a sparkle to them, now. They looked less dull and flat than they had even mere weeks ago. I pulled a brush through my long hair, knotty waves still present from the salty breeze on the beach the night before. I brushed my teeth, washed my face, and put some deodorant on, then anxiously went through my wardrobe in my mind to figure out what I’d be wearing. I didn’t really have swimwear, considering cliff diving or swimming at all weren’t particularly on the forefront of my mind when I’d moved here. I’d given a lot of my clothes to Naomi when I left, who eagerly accepted my hand-me-downs. I knew I had one black cami bra that would be comfortable enough to cliff jump in, and I hoped that pairing it with some of my black boy-short undies would help it pass for a bikini. I wasn’t particularly overjoyed to be the only girl swimming, but I was excited to be trying something new. Doing something fun. And, I had a funny feeling that the boys would go out of their way to not look at my body too obviously. They were all pretty respectful, especially Seth. I couldn’t deny the way that my chest fluttered at the thought of taking my clothes off in front of Jake, though, and tried to push that to the back of my mind. I spent the few hours waiting for the guys to arrive, adding more wood to the stove and reading one of my Jane Goodall books. I’d brought a whole set of novels with me, many of the books old and weathered from the times I’d read them over the years. I eventually got antsy and did some stretching on the living room floor, trying to remember random poses from the few classes I’d taken during one of my fleeting hyper-fixations on Yoga a few years back. In the middle of a deep breathing session in cat-cow, I was ripped from my relaxation with a heavy knock on the door. I gasped audibly and fell onto my elbows on the wooden floor. I’d been expecting to hear footfalls and voices outside before a knock, considering four larger than average men were going to be arriving at the house. But I hadn’t heard them approach at all.

I stood, rearranging my hoodie down over my shorts as it’d ridden up throughout my stretching session. I skipped over to the door, my white knitted socks slippery on the wooden floor. I pulled the door open, unsurprised to see Jacob’s face first. A smile broke out across his features, and I saw his eyes flicker down my legs briefly. A chorus of ‘hey’, ‘hi’, and ‘good morning’s rang out and I laughed, holding the door open wider and stepping aside to welcome them in. Behind Jake, Jared and Seth stood smiling, and behind them, Embry stood next to another face that I didn’t recognize. Jacob jutted his thumb behind him and over his shoulder at the unfamiliar addition to our little group, a stocky, built young man. He was shorter than the others, although still taller than the average man. He had thick muscle wrapping around his arms, neck and shoulders, and shaggy hair that curled around his ears.

“This is Quil, a buddy of ours. He wanted to come along, hope you don’t mind,” Jacob said with a grin. The boy named Quil smiled wide, throwing an acknowledging nod my way. I shook my head.

“No, I don’t mind at all! It’s nice to meet you,” I said, beaming back. Quil returned the greeting with a confident demeanor, and the five of them stepped through the doorway. I heard the murmurs of comments on the mysterious tiny cabin they’d known for years but never seen the inside of as they entered. Everyone but Jake, who stayed by my side while the other boys wandered into the living room, Seth crouching by the fire while Embry sat down on the couch with Quil and Jared. They were already continuing a conversation they must have started on their way here, and I was amused by how immediately they made themselves at home.

It was a small couch, but the boys made it look ridiculously tiny. I had to stifle a laugh.

“So, ya scared?”, Jacob asked with a smirk, his arms crossing as he eyed my face, trying to read my expression for a whisper of fear.

I narrowed my eyes as I stared back at him. I hesitated, crossing my arms to mirror him, staring back defiantly with my chin in the air before I let my shoulders and arms slump in defeat. I realized he’d probably see right through any feigned bravery I plastered onto my face.

“Yeah…,” I mumbled with a shrug, a bashful smile creeping up onto my lips. He chuckled, his eyes remaining on my face as I glanced down to the floor, moving over to my hiking boots and grabbing them before sitting down onto the ottoman in front of the couch.

“Well, don’t need to be. We’re doing the easy spot, like we told you. Plus, it’s like the perfect day for it. 70 degrees, not too windy, even down on the beach,” he mused, watching me as I bent over to pull my boots onto my feet.

I nodded, trying to ignore the racing of my heart as I yet again realized what I’d gotten myself into. This is what I wanted though, isn’t it? New friends and experiences. After fighting with my bulky hiking boots, I was laced up and ready to go. Behind me on the couch, the boys were looking through one of my spotted owl field journals. At the snap of Jacob’s fingers and a flick of his head towards the door, all four boys were up and crossing the room, leaving me sitting on the ottoman and staring at Jake in amazement at the utter control he seemed to hold over the group. He waited patiently by the open door, then awkwardly looked outside before turning his gaze back at me.

“Erm… you comin’?” He asked gruffly, not understanding my moment of hesitation.

I stood up, stretching and grabbing my red backpack off the couch that had my spare clothes, towel and essentials, throwing it over my shoulder.

“Hope you don’t expect me to listen to you like those goofballs do,” I said, reaching out to poke him in the side as I grinned up at him. He dodged my hand effortlessly and smoothly while managing to still hold the door open for me. I slid past him, his woodsy smell filling my senses briefly, and he followed me out onto the porch, firmly closing the door behind him.

“Don’t worry, I don’t,” he grumbled dramatically.

….………….………….………….………….………….………………………

The hike up to the road wasn’t a short one, nor was it easy. My thighs and calves burned by the time we made it through the vast and seemingly never ending green of the forest. The light peeking through at the top of the final climb showed me just how steep the remaining section was. I stopped to catch my breath, my heart painfully pounding and sweat pooling under my shirt and across my lip. I stopped at the base of the hill, hunching over to breathe.

“Jeez, thought you were an experienced hiker, Sully!” Jake’s voice rang out from the front of the group.

I glanced up, searching for his face. When my eyes met his, I saw it was painted with that playful smirk of his.

“Sully?” I asked between pants. I hadn’t heard that nickname since high school.

Jake and the other boys chuckled. Seth, who was the closest to me, put his hand on my shoulder gently.

“It means you’re part of the club, don’t worry. It’s a shocker when these knuckleheads actually call me Seth. Last names are kinda the norm here.”

Seth had been by my side for most of the trek, encouraging me when I’d first expressed distaste for the sheer vertical climb of our summit.

I nodded in response, not really caring for anything much more than the sensation of feeling far too hot under my sweatshirt. I held up a finger for the boys to wait. They all shot each other perplexed looks, which I ignored.

I pulled my pack off my shoulders, letting it slump into the ground. Hooking my fingers under the hem of my hoodie, I pulled it swiftly over my head, shaking my hair out as it pulled through the hole. I wrapped the hoodie around my waist, tying it tightly at the top of my shorts and then bent to pull my pack up onto my back. When I looked up, all five of the men were pointedly avoiding looking my way. I realized with a sharp flow of blood to my cheeks that I’d only put on the black bra I planned to swim in, and had forgotten to put on a shirt underneath the hoodie in my nervous preparation for the outing. Jake shot one quick look at my face before nodding curtly and looking up the trail, prompting the group to continue.

“Just this last little bit, then we’re at the truck,” Jacob called from the front of our little posse. I felt much cooler now, the air lightly running through the trees flowing across my chest and under my armpits. I let out a long sigh, and heard Seth’s soft chuckle from beside me.

I was too exhausted to care about defending my ego when we made it to the top. How were they not as tired as me? I was indeed an experienced hiker, but the sheer steepness of this path was one of the most difficult I’d come across. I decided to blame it on their sheer size difference. Their legs were all long enough to make it easier, surely. It took everything in me to not sit down on the side of the road that the trail finally led us to. My breathing began to settle and relax as the ground flattened. My muscles ached, but it didn’t feel terrible. The feeling was one I missed, I realized. I was coming back to my body still, after years of being an empty vessel for pain, and physical sensations such as this were a kind reminder of that, I decided.

An old, black pickup truck sat along the road next to the tree-line. Jacob strode over to the driver’s side, pulling keys out of his pocket with a jingle and shoving them into the ignition. I stood along the road beside Seth, who looked over at me with a grin.

“You did it! Nice job,” he said excitedly. His compassion was so genuine and reassuring; it was impossible not to smile back.

I exhaled and nodded.

“Thanks, Seth. You’re a good hiking buddy.”

Jared, Quil, and Embry all piled into the backseat of the truck. Jacob slapped the side of the truck from out of his window, whistling at Seth and I.

“Let’s go, kids, we don’t have all day,” he called across the seat out the passenger window. I scoffed and walked with Seth to the passenger door, which he opened for me. I threw him another smile as I pulled myself up and into the truck with a grunt. My legs were a bit shaky from the climb. I plopped down onto the bench seat next to Jacob, accidentally falling against him in the process. I muttered something that sounded like a ‘sorry’. His lips were pulled together tightly, an attempt to not laugh at my struggle. I pulled my backpack onto my lap and huffed, stubbornly refusing to meet his gaze. Seth got into the truck next to me, pulling the door closed behind him.

After a long and windy drive up the rocky jut of mountain along the pacific sea, we finally arrived to the location of our day’s adventure. I felt a jolt of excitement and fear as Jared’s long arm pointed from the backseat at our cliff jumping destination.

“There she is,” Quil exclaimed proudly.

It was slightly lower down than the road we slowly came to a stop on, tucked up above a small inlet that shot off from the main beach below. The water was calmer than the day before and the sun was able to shine directly on it now that it was almost noon. I smiled eagerly to myself at the prospect of the sun warming the rocks despite the constant cloud layer in the sky.

With a shudder of old metal and engine, Jacob turned off the truck and pulled the key out, stuffing it back into his pocket. He glanced over at me with a slightly different expression than I’d seen before, one of contemplation and hesitance, and my eyes narrowed slightly. An impish smile pulled up onto his lips.

“Ready?” He asked smugly as he popped the driver door open and pulled his tremendous frame out of the truck.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I mumbled as I followed him out the same way.

A/N: yall please this took SO long I am so deeply truly sorry, but now im back! I missed writing this story so much so please let me know your thoughts! Chapter 6 already in the works hehe

Who’s excited for Paul to meet our girl? 🙋‍♀️

➡️NEXT CHAPTER

Taglist: pls let me know if you’d like to be tagged for the next chapters!

@carrrieeexu @living-that-best-life @hotheadwolf @avis15 @gugi7171773 @neo-grey @bbywonu @wilmasvensson @lostwandererkat @littlep2014 @cyuuttee @itsthesamegen @a-moonchilds-life @Elleirbag50 @Foxmp

#twilight #fanfic #imagines #paul lahote #paullahote #twilight imagines #fanfiction #paullahoteimagine #twilightfanfic #twilight fanfiction #twilight fandom

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freesia-writes · 1 year

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Tech, Phee, and a Fix-It Fic

Took this post from @ashyybees-art and ran with it, though it totally got away from me. It should have been wayyyy shorter and more simple. But, alas, here we are. Also... this was really hard to write cause I'm not a huge fan of Phee just yet. :/ Sorry. Prolly cause I was elbows deep in my own Tech/OC fanfic when she came onto the scene. But it's a lil somethin to hold us over with a happy headcanon until we get further news in season three. <3

Words: 2k SPOILERS for the season 2 TBB finale! -=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Phee had always told herself she would be independent. Capable. Self-sufficient. Strong. She didn't need anyone but enjoyed the company of others… a little too much, recently. The squad of "deviant" clones had left a lasting impression in her life that she hadn't quite been able to shake, especially the demeanor and appeal of one bespectacled crew member in particular.

So when she put a tracking beacon on the Marauder, she told herself it was for practicality, for protection. She wasn't one of those clingy sorts who got too attached and fawned over someone; she was a clever and skilled woman who thought of backups and contingency plans for herself and those she… loved? It wasn't something she would utilize unless she absolutely had to; better to have it in place and not need it than to wish she had.

Something felt different the night they left. Omega, typically delighted to share anything and everything with her, had been uncharacteristically cryptic about their covert mission. She'd made an attempt to get a clue from Tech, but he was even more shifty than usual, and eye contact was enough of a struggle to get from him, let alone a straight answer. She couldn't tell if he was distant because of stress or anticipation, or perhaps she had done something to offend him? Perhaps he had changed his mind from the warmth and interest he had shown when they first arrived on Pabu?

Regardless, she had responded to his nervous little goggle adjustment with the typical flutter of the heart and a small smile. She knew him to be incredibly proficient, unassumingly strong, and incomparably intelligent. So they parted with a casual farewell, and she anticipated the next time they would see each other. Perhaps he would share what had been weighing so heavily on him for this particular mission.

She couldn't sleep that night, alternating between tossing and turning with anxious hypotheticals and drifting into periods of sleep that were punctuated with disturbing nightmares. This was unusual, and in the wee hours of the morning she gave up, heading to the balcony of her home to watch the sunrise. It wasn't an obsession, or a need to have him in her sight the whole time… just an undeniable sense of foreboding. She doubted he would react favorably to her shadowing him, but perhaps if he didn't know…

Breakfast found her equally unsuccessful in focusing on anything else. The nagging feeling had only grown, to the point that it was becoming unbearable. She hit her limit. An hour later she was prepped and in her ship, activating the tracking beacon. She'd just take a look, a quick fly-by, to assuage the unrelenting plague of worry.

It wasn't her first time having to sneak past Imperial ships, and she transmitted a trusty clearance code that hadn't failed her yet. As she descended, the radar's beeps came more quickly. She dropped into the atmosphere and her eyes were met with towering rock formations poking above the clouds; it was impossible to tell how far below the planet floor was. Her heart leapt in her chest -- there was the Marauder! It was neatly folded against one of the cliffs, perched on a perfectly-sized ledge. No sign of light or activity, however, so she took a gentle loop to see where they may have gone.

Sudden alarms notified her of the approach of incoming craft, and she peeled away to avoid being seen, diving down toward the forest canopy. Her ship was small and easy to navigate, and she lowered it into a small clearing as a handful of Imperial fighters shot overhead. She whipped out her electrobinoculars, following their path, and the scene that met her eyes made her stomach drop to her feet. Blaster bolts flew between skyrail cars, and the ships pelted them with shots on a fly by before arcing through the air to come around for another run. She spotted Hunter's red bandana leaning out the window of one of the cars as he sent a few shots at the opposite car, and then a swinging figure caught her attention.

She gasped aloud. Tech. Dangling far below the cars by a single wire, attempting to climb but moving too slowly as the fighters approached yet again. Her mind raced. What could she do? She wouldn't be able to launch fast enough before they came by again, and even if she did, she would likely be shot down, outnumbered as she was. Before she had the chance to think of any other options, a single blaster bolt fired from Tech's suspended form, breaking the skyrail coupling, and he began to free fall, along with an entire car following above him.

Simultaneous fear and focus kicked into high gear. She plotted his trajectory, fighting down the waves of nausea that broke upon her, and began to sprint into the forest. The trees and rocks seemed to reach miles into the sky above her, a sickening realization, and she picked up the pace, gasping for air but refusing to slow down.

Crashing through a wall of bushes that scraped along her arms, she let out a cry as she saw his crumpled form ahead, unmistakable with the white armor and colorful accents. His backpack, cracked in half, dangled from a sharp branch above, and his helmet had splintered, scattering shards across the clearing. Collapsing to her knees next to him, she gently rolled him onto his back, taking a sharp inhale at the horror she saw. His fall had been broken only by tree branches, each one leaving a mark as it hit him with full force. One had whipped across his head, shattering his goggles, which dangled from one ear, and horribly disfiguring his face. Dirt mixed with blood and bone, and she fought to maintain consciousness. She didn't know how extensive the damage was, but she had to get him somewhere, anywhere, and fast.

***

Shapes and shadows, muffled sounds… Waves of pain… Dreams of light, always ending in darkness. Weightlessness and water began to form in his mind. The rhythmic sound of mechanical breathing. But all was dark.

Suddenly, weight returned. He was being moved; the ground was shifting below him. He was lying on his back, as far as he could tell, but movement was nearly impossible. Everything felt so heavy, as if he were made of the thinnest glass and could shatter at a moment's notice. And the darkness, the murkiness. He thought his eyes were open but there was nothing but shadows, appearing from nowhere and startling him, taking form and then melting away.

The whirring sound of servos grew nearer, accompanied by a robotic voice, "CT-9902, can you hear me?"

It took a few swallows to remedy a dry mouth despite the recent emergence from water, and his voice cracked as he spoke, "I can."

"I am your assigned 2-1B medical droid. You have sustained heavy damage."

"Diag… diagnostic report," he breathed, fighting a rising sense of panic at the unresponsiveness of his vision. He tentatively attempted to move fingers and toes, shifting his weight to and fro, but he could see nothing but vague patches of dark and darker. As the droid recounted his injuries, his claustrophobia grew. It was irrational. It served no purpose. But the inability to snap out of it, to look around at his surroundings, felt suffocating. Focusing on the droid's analysis as a way to ground himself, he calculated the possibilities of his future.

It wasn't a fruitful endeavor, nor did it have its usual soothing effect. He had always been one to successfully employ mind over matter, logic over emotion. But the sensation of being trapped within his own body was a novel one that was proving to be insurmountable as of yet. The droid finished its debriefing, machinery indicating some kind of movement, and the pit in his stomach grew heavier.

"Where am I?" he asked with a gravelly voice.

But there was no reply.

Time stretched into eternity, and his ability to analyze and predict was significantly less sharp than he was used to. His nose was assaulted with the sterile scents of a medical bay and his ears picked up every beep, whoosh, and whir. His mouth felt dry and metallic, and the sensations throughout his body were a myriad of pain, awareness, and comfort. But his vision was gone. Almost entirely. He assessed the likelihood of what had happened, slowly bringing a hand to a heavily-bandaged face. His eyes were not covered, however, confirming his fears.

Solitude usually didn't bother him, but he found himself yearning for his brothers. The factual analysis of his situation did nothing to improve his mental state. He needed answers, and patience was not a prominent strength of someone who had been able to make things happen quickly and effectively his whole life.

"Well… You've certainly looked better," came a familiar voice, breaking him out of his morose reverie. It was not a voice he had expected, but it was an improvement to the circumstances nonetheless.

"Phee," he said quietly, "What happened?"

He felt a weight on the side of the bed, accompanied by a shifting shadow overhead, then the gentle, warm touch of a hand to his bare cheek that made him flinch involuntarily. A quiet sound of sympathy came from her, and the hand disappeared.

"You decided to go flying without a jet pack," Phee answered, "And the local landscape seemed to have an issue with that. Particularly the trees. And the ground."

"It was necessary," he replied, still struggling to speak more than a short sentence at a time. "My vision is impaired?"

"Your whole body is impaired," she said, attempting to keep it light, though the gravity was betrayed by the emotion in her voice. "You're lucky to be alive. But yes, for now."

Tech let out a small sigh, resting his head back on the pillow in defeat, "That is not ideal."

"You being alive is all that matters. You hear me?" she said with empathetic conviction.

"I do," he answered, resigned to the fact that a satisfactory response would require more stamina than he could afford. Phee rose to her feet.

"Good. Now you work on healing so we can get out of here."

***

The process was painstakingly slow, even with the miracles of bacta and medical droids, but finally the day arrived that they would be able to return to Pabu. Tech managed to shower and prepare on his own, feeling along the walls and fumbling about for each step. The whoosh of the door notified him of someone's arrival, and the identity was quickly confirmed by that euphonic voice.

"What are you wearing?" Phee asked as she saw him. He was wearing the medical bay defaults, which looked similar to his blacks, but had folded and tied an extra shirt around his eyes like a bandana. She wanted to laugh and cry simultaneously. "I think Hunter has already claimed that particular fashion statement."

"It is likely that the appearance of my face is disconcerting, considering the damage from the fall. I did not want to be the cause of any detestation."

"Detestation! Listen to you. Come here, Brown Eyes," she invited, drawing close. "I'm taking this off, alright?"

"You may have to select an alternative term of endearment," he said as she gently pushed the makeshift bandana up and off his head. His face had indeed healed, but the rich brown eyes that had so captivated her were covered in a thick layer of milky white, and moved unseeingly in her general direction. Scar tissue tracked from his temple on one side to his ear on the other, creating a knotted texture on his previously sharp profile. He dropped his chin a bit, in a posture of shame, and her heart broke.

She dropped the folded shirt on the nearby bed, reaching for his hands with her own. His startle reflex had diminished only slightly; it would take a while to get used to a world of shifting shadows. She traced her hands up his arms, feeling him stiffen slightly at the touch, then up to his cheeks, cupping his face with as much tenderness as she could convey. She gazed into those eyes, wishing he could see the emotion on her face as she did.

"You're not gonna get off the hook that easy," she said, gently brushing his cheekbones with her thumbs. "Besides, Brown Eyes, the phenotypic eye color for all clones is brown, you know, even if you can't see them," she said with a grin that could be heard in her voice.

And for the first time since the accident, a small smile curved the corner of his lips as well.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Requested Tags: @32rotations @cocolinagoodnight @thenonsensebatch

If you enjoyed it, feel free to check out other works on Wattpad or Ao3. :) Got a full-length Tech fic, a short cute "first date" with Gregor, a short-ish rivalry of Tech/Crosshair fighting over you, and an ongoing full-length canon-aligned backstory on Howzer. :D

HANG IN THERE TIL SEASON 3! Much love!

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mlchaelwheeler · 2 years

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Why Mike and El Shouldn't (And Won't) Be Endgame

Before I start this analysis of sorts, I just want to say that yes, I do believe byler will be endgame, but I will be taking an objective perspective to Mike and El's respective characters, as well as their relationship with each other. That aside, let's dive in!

Mike and El meet at a very eventful time in both of their lives. For Mike, his best friend of 7 years has just gone missing. For El, she's just escaped a prison (the lab) where she's spent her whole life. They are pushed together by a mutual need: Mike needs El to find Will, and El needs Mike to survive the real world, and stay away from the "bad men." It's clear throughout S1 that Mike and El have created a special bond--while some call it romantic, I don't think that's really on their minds. What they want (and need at this point) is a strong friendship.

El has just escaped from the only place she's ever known, thrust into a new world she knows nothing about, and in which she knows no one. Should she be jumping into a romantic relationship 2ish days after meeting Mike? No, she absolutely should not. I doubt she even understands what romance is, let alone the difference between being Mike's friend or his girlfriend--to her, they likely mean the same thing: Mike cares about her. It's the same for Mike. S1 shows (and tells) us over and over again that Mike isn't thinking about El as a possible girlfriend. Lucas tells him: "if you love her so much, why don't you marry her?" Dustin questions why Mike doesn't understand why Lucas is upset and has to spell it out that Lucas is jealous of El--jealous that Mike is wasting time on her when they could be looking for Will at the lab. Even Nancy asks Mike if he likes El. To all 3 of these querys, Mike responds negatively or is confused. He clearly isn't thinking about El romantically, but he is starting to realize maybe he should be, since everyone is asking him about her.

For me, S1 is the purest and best form of Mike and El's relationship. It's their true dynamic together before they're forced to conform to outside expectations. Once S2 starts, we see El watching romantic soap operas on tv, likely shaping her view of what romance is like. After her rushed kiss with Mike in the S1 finale, she's likely realizing that this means she's Mike's girlfriend now, and should be initiating romantic interactions between them. From the soap operas, she's getting a very over exaggerated view of what romance is--however, she has no way to tell that it's not realistic. In soap operas, people break up all the time and get back together the next episode. It's normal, right? She sure thinks so. This will go on to skew her views of her relationship with Mike. No matter what they go through, or how he treats her, it will always work out in the end. That's how the soap operas go anyways. El is clinging to a sense of perceived normalcy because she so desperately wants to be normal for once.

While Mike doesn't see El much in S2 (he's with Will all season), he calls her on the radio every night since she goes missing. Lots of people read this as romantic and a big love confession of sorts, but I think Mike would've done this for any one of the Party. Time and time again, we're shown how loyal Mike is to his friends--remember, this is the same Mike who jumped off a cliff to save Dustin's teeth!! He obviously felt massive guilt over El's "death" in the S1 finale. She slept in his basement, helped him find Will alive, relied on him to keep her safe from the "bad men," and then "died" keeping him and his friends safe? No wonder he called her every night hoping she was still out there--after all, he did see her that same night outside his living room window, so he did have a reason to hope she'd actually hear him. Again though, if Lucas or Dustin would've disappeared instead of El, I think Mike would've called them on the radio too, trying to reach them. Remember, all throughout S1, Mike believed (not really) that Will was dead--and even saw his body!--but still attempted to contact him over the radio multiple times. If he did this for Will, obviously he would for El too. These are parallels that should be noticed together.

Moving on to S3, this is the first time we see Mike and El as an actual couple. This is obviously the first relationship for either of them, and it's made clear from the start of the season that they're not better together than they are apart. Whereas their interactions are sweet and inclusive of their friends in S1 and S2, come S3, they're ignoring everyone in favor of constantly making out. They don't even really talk to each other! When Mike tries singing, El tells him to stop and just resumes kissing him. When Mike tries to find El a gift at the mall, he is unable to do so--not because he doesn't have enough money, but because he has no idea what she'd actually like.

The sad thing is, no matter what he'd pick out, El would probably love it, because it's from Mike. S3 makes it clear El hasn't grown her sense of identity at all since escaping the lab--nearly 2 years prior! She sadly asks Max at the mall, "how do I know what I like?" She's never actually stopped to consider what she might enjoy because she just always goes along with whatever Mike or Hopper tells her. That's not really anyone's fault, it's just how it is because they're teaching her about the normal world. She's been learning so much that she hasn't had time to stop and think about what she enjoys. Luckily, the break she gets from Mike allows her to explore other possibilities--new styles, new food, and new friendships. Her time with Max is the time when she arguable gets the most growth character-wise in the series. She can focus on herself without being caught up in Mike.

I should also point out here that the story makes it clear that El only grows as a character when she's apart from Mike. This is intentional--when she's Mike's girlfriend, she is stagnant as a character. In S2, her solo adventure to discover her past helps her understand her roots and develop her powers. She becomes more independent--traveling to Mama's house and Chicago by herself, which is a huge step for her after not leaving the lab for 12 years. Then, she gets back to Hawkins and "defeats" the mindflayer, but from that point on her character falls short, as she goes back to Mike. She regains this sense of independence and agency in S3 after she breaks up with Mike, and has more development up until she loses her powers. When 3 months go by, and she's moving, she seems to be back to how she was before the breakup--completely dependent on Mike. We see this again in the opening of S4. Her room is a literal shrine to Mike! She has't made any friends, has isolated herself emotionally and physically, and is sending letters full of lies to Mike. When Mike arrived in California, they go back to their old S3 selves, but things are a bit off because El's covering for her lies. She's obviously angry because Mike can't tell her he loves her, so she's in tune that something in their relationship is wrong. Unfortunately, El sees her worth as being tied to her powers, so when Dr. Owens gives her the opportunity to get them back, she jumps at the chance. Maybe Mike will love her if she goes to become a superhero again. After all, that's why he "fell in love" with her in the first place right? Because she used her powers to find Will and save them from the demogorgan?

El's narrative has been building up her independence since the beginning of S2. She has to realize that her powers do not define her--she's worth so much for just being her! If Mike tells her he loves her just after she gets her powers back, it will feel cheap. El should be affronted by this, and should rightfully call him out. Mike can find thousands of other reasons to love El besides her powers! If he can't say it, well, there must be a deeper reason. I think that by diving into her past, El has been able to understand her trauma more fully and grow from that, triggering her hopeful resurgence of independence. However, the story has made it clear that she can't do that while being in a romantic relationship with Mike.

Speaking of Mike, let's look closer at how his interactions with El have changed after becoming her boyfriend vs when they were just friends. I think everyone can agree that Mike and El were adorable in S1. Their smiles, their understanding that they were both missing something (a home and a best friend), and their actions say it all. However, these are all platonic things, and I think they both viewed themselves as just friends until other people brought romantic feelings into the equation. In S1, Mike shows lots of emotion when interacting with El: his smile and voice after she saves him from the cliff ("El, you're not the monster, you saved me. You saved me!"), explaining what friendship is, setting up the basement fort for her, yelling at Papa as he takes her away, etc. Mike also shows emotion with her in S2, before they're properly "together." However, his interactions with her feel much more forced and unemotional with her from S3 onward. He doesn't even seem a bit sad after El breaks up with him--if anything, he seems offended, not something someone who just lost the love of their life should feel. When he tries to clue El into his feelings in the grocery store, he stutters around the real words, unable to make eye contact or say "I love you." When she confesses her love to him before moving away, he doesn't respond and looks downright confused after their kiss. When she confronts him about "from Mike" in S4, Mike is stiff and unemotional as El sobs in front of him. He blames other people for their problems when the real problem is himself. This isn't the same Mike as S1-2, where he would've shown at least some emotion and done anything to make El feel better.

These are key narrative choices that the show has been pushing to show that something's not right--things are not as they should be. If we step back and look at Mike and El's narratives as a whole, it's clear that they're both worse versions of themselves when they're together. Mike becomes an unemotional puppet of himself, simply going through the motions of being in a relationship. El becomes completely dependent and lost in a fantasy world of soap opera-type relationships, and is unable to cope with faced with real-world problems. If the show has constantly pushed this idea, how does it make sense that they'd end up together? Why stunt the development of 2 main characters just to have Mike and El end in a romantic relationship? It's clear that they're the most genuine with each other--and the rest of their friends/family--when they're platonic with a capital P. The narrative isn't building up to a big romantic confession, it's leading to a mutual understanding that they never shouldn't rushed into a relationship they neither wanted nor understood in the first place.

#these are my thoughts on these 2. i think they're the bestest besties tho <3 elmike >>>>>#i was very objective. but it's clear that mike is worse with el. who is he better with??? will. that's who #ok thanks for coming to my ted talk #mike wheeler #jane hopper #byler #stranger things #stranger things analysis #sarah.txt #meta

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tongue-like-a-razor · 2 years

Text

Tailspin | Chapter 4

Maverick x Female!Reader

Ahh this was such a crazy scene to write! Mostly action and no romance in this chapter (I had to throw in some planes because, you know, Top Gun XD), but I promise that the fluff and sexual tension are coming! Gahhhh I can't wait haha

Summary: The story of Pete “Maverick” Mitchell’s wild descent into love with none other than his number one rival’s girlfriend.

CW: love triangle, emotional infidelity, slow burn, tension

Chapter 3, Chapter 2, Chapter 1

You walk into the hangar near the end of the day. The sun hangs low in the sky, hovering just over the horizon where it paints the clouds in orange and rosy hues. You see Tom and Ron heading toward you after their last flight of the day and you wave at them.

Tom grins at you, lifting his helmet off his head and tucking it under his arm. His chute bag is hanging off his shoulder. His face shines with sweat and, as he approaches, you can see beads of it running down his neck and under the collar of his shirt.

Behind his head, you see two jets zoom across the desert. Then, suddenly, a resounding boom erupts from the field as one of the Tomcats pulls into a vertical climb.

Tom twists his body to look up at the plane. When he turns back to you, he's wearing a disgruntled expression on his face.

"Show-off," Ron mutters, grabbing a green apple from the bowl set out on the desk in front of the chalkboard. He gives it a few swipes across the front of his green flight suit and takes a bite.

You glance up at the F-14, still shooting straight up. The second fighter is in pursuit, but has noticeably fallen behind. Tom shakes his head, putting his arm around you and giving you a kiss.

"Missed you," he says.

You give him a smile. "Good day?" you ask.

Another roar rolls over the hills and you both look in the direction of the noise.

"That idiot's going to get himself killed one day," Tom grumbles under his breath.

You watch the plane tilt right, then left, then right again, rocketing through the air while the F-5 prepares for landing. Tom pulls on your hand but you're still watching Maverick swerve expertly through a range of mountains in the distance before coming back around. You smile to yourself; he'd told you that when he's up there, you would know. And he was right. The control with which he maneuvers his aircraft is unmatched.

"He's just wasting fuel now." Ron shakes his head. "He's in full afterburner for fuck's safe."

Tom sets his jaw, refusing to look back at the airfield. "Viper's going to ground his ass for good this time."

You watch as Maverick does another steep climb only, this time, instead of a graceful dive over the cliff, the plane slows to a near halt, and the rumble of the engines dies.

"Tom?" you say hesitantly, feeling your voice catch on something in your throat.

But Tom's already turned around, he's already let go of your hand and, with a perplexed look on his face, he's walking back toward the strip. "What the fuck?" he says slowly, the last of his words falling away into silence before all hell breaks lose.

Tom turns back to look at Ron and you blanch at the horror twisted into his features.

"They've stalled," he breathes.

"They what?" you start, but Tom flies past you toward the stairwell.

"They've stalled!" he cries, swinging the door to the staircase open and disappearing through it.

Ron bounds after him and you, taking one last look at Maverick's plane as it starts to descend with its nose still pointing upward, race after them, your heart pounding so hard you could feel it in your temples.

"Their engines died!" you hear Tom screaming as he blows into the tower.

"Ghost Rider, come in. Come in, Ghost Rider. Do you copy?" Jester yells into the radio when you rush into the room. "Who's up there?" he hollers at the three of you.

"Maverick and Goose, sir!" Tom responds.

"Get me Viper! I can't get a hold of them, their comms are down," Jester growls.

Several other officers come hurtling into the tower, gunning for the windows.

You feel your body shaking uncontrollably as you watch Maverick's plane turn downward, the drop accelerating so quickly that it seems they'll crash within seconds.

Tom is shaking his head. "He can't restart the engines."

"Why aren't they ejecting?" Ron watches the fighter dive in awe.

"Oh my god," Tom mutters. "He's trying to save the plane. Goddamn it, Maverick!"

He runs over to Jester just as you hear Maverick's voice over the radio. "Tower, this is Ghost Rider. We've suffered an engine stall."

Jester grabs the mouthpiece of the radio and brings it to his face. "Why are you still in the plane?" he roars. "Eject! Eject!"

"I'm going to bring it back up, sir," you hear Maverick's voice, steady as ever. "I can get the fans going again, I just need more airflow."

"Is that why he's nose down?" Ron gasps to your right. He shakes his head. "That's brilliant," he whispers.

You can barely control your trembling body as you take a few steps forward.

Jester yells into the radio. "Don't be a hero, Maverick! Eject, that's an order!"

"Sorry, sir," Maverick replies. "I can't do that."

Tom's alarmed gaze jumps between Jester and the Tomcat. He brings a hand to his mouth.

"Why the hell not?" Jester cries.

There's a strained silence on the other end while the officers crowding the tower continue hollering at the plane.

Then Maverick speaks. "Goose's handle won't budge. Malfunction."

Jester stares at Tom, wide-eyed. Then, he mutters. "Get everybody the fuck out of here."

Tom clenches his jaw and salutes Jester. Then, he starts rounding up the other officers.

Meanwhile, Jester yells into the radio. "Maverick, if you keep diving, you're both dead. You need to eject now!"

Maverick doesn't respond.

The rest of the pilots shuffle out through the doors and Tom comes up to you, putting a hand on your back. "Let's go," he says quietly.

You blink over at him in a daze, your eyes stinging as a rush of tears spill over your cheeks.

"Maverick, save yourself!" Jester yells again. "It's either one of you, or both of you, you hear me? Don't make us bury two pilots today."

You follow Tom into the stairwell. He grabs the metal railing and hops from one landing to the next, right over the stairs. He makes it down three flights of stairs in under two seconds – before you even reach the first landing.

He's running toward the crowd of pilots on the tarmac and you run after him, although your legs feel like they might give out at any moment.

You stop at Tom's side and look up at him as he watches the plane. He's holding a clenched fist to his mouth. "He's not going to eject," he mutters. "Goose doesn't have flight controls in his cockpit. And he won't leave Goose."

The crowd of spectators is silent now that Maverick's plane is just over two hundred feet above the ground. He's still in a purely vertical dive, seconds from impact.

You clutch Tom's hand and shut your eyes tightly. Then, you hear the roar of an engine and your eyes snap open to see Maverick's Tomcat level out shakily before pulling up and over your head. The crowd of pilots roars and you see Tom close his eyes and let out an unsteady sigh. He chuckles, shaking his head, before lifting his eyes to see the fighter plane returning toward the airstrip.

Tom looks down at you. "He's got some balls," he says, still in disbelief.

You nod wearily, your head swimming like the dusty landscape in the distance. Your body feels suddenly weightless as you're overcome by a delirious sort of joy. A kind of thrill that spins the world and shifts everything out of focus. The crowd cheers around you but you can barely hear the sound. You're in a trance, a dream. And the joy you're feeling is such a rush that it sends you reeling. You reach out and grasp Tom's arm for support.

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking down at you with concern.

You're not sure how to answer. On the one hand, you're elated. On the other, you think you might puke right then and there.

Perhaps once they've landed, once they're safe back on solid ground, you can breathe again. But what about tomorrow? And the next day? When they climb back into that cockpit. Will you ever be able to breathe peacefully again?

The burst of happiness turns sour, and you feel sick to your stomach. No, you're not okay. But one thing is certain: you'll never forget the first time you saw Pete "Maverick" Mitchell fly.

Read Chapter 5

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