#our gardening rates are reasonable. i promise. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sea-lanterns · 11 months

Text

OUR BELOVED EMPRESS

synopsis: empress! AU with the liyue women as your courtesans.

featuring: ningguang, beidou, keqing, ganyu, yelan, shenhe

rating: 18+ n.s.f.w (men and minors dni)

warnings: switch! gn! afab reader, reader is referred to as pretty, beautiful, etc. polyamory, mentions of harem, reader is referred to as the "empress." arranged relationships, established relationships, finger.ing, scissoring, semi-public s.ex, fucking in an alleyway, biting, pining, cunnilingus, dirty talk, mastur.bation, not entirely proof read.

art credits: moonlight garden

NINGGUANG

Courtesan Ningguang! Who was the first courtesan presented to you by your father. A woman of high class and influence; the Tianquan of Liyue herself. It was a no-brainer that she would be the first potential candidate as your wife, as not only was she an influential figurehead, but she was someone who was intelligent and cunning. Two wonderful traits for a queen consort to have…

Courtesan Ningguang! Who arrives at your palace in the fanciest of attires. Golden nails brushing up against your hand before pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “It is an honor to be in your presence, my empress…” she whispers seductively, looking up at you with red ruby eyes. “…and an honor to be your first courtesan.”

Courtesan Ningguang! Who serves as a reliable shoulder for you to lean on whenever your family is in peril. Assassinations, business problems, drama within the harem. Ningguang serves as the voice of reason and someone who can soothe the stress in your body. She may be a busy woman, but she always finds time to free you of your worries, ending the day with massages or gentle kisses to your temple that leave you feeling red.

Courtesan Ningguang! Who gets along with pretty much all the other courtesans except Courtesan Beidou. She had some beef with her prior to joining the imperial harem and sometimes gets annoyed whenever the pirate woman gets too rough with you. “Beidou, I think our empress would enjoy it if you didn’t throw her over your shoulder…” She rolls her eyes when she sees Beidou running out of the palace with you in her arms. Not liking how her beloved empress’ body was always manhandled by that giant brute.

Courtesan Ningguang! Who always snatches you away from the pirate whenever her back is turned. Wanting some alone time with you after having to share you with her the whole day. “Worry not my dear empress, I’ll treat you much softer than that barbarian of a woman…” She gently places you on the bed and smirks suggestively. “Let me massage that sore skin of yours…”

Courtesan Ningguang! Who enjoys taking her time in thoroughly massaging your body. Your shoulders, your back, your breasts… She loves how her dear, beloved empress writhes under her touch and moans into the pillows. “Does that feel good, my empress? Shall I go lower…?” Her silky hands trail down your stomach like a pathway, “I knew it, my beloved is all so sore…”

Courtesan Ningguang! Who has you arching your back off the bed while she thrusts her fingers into your cunt, sopping wet smacks echoing throughout the room as her palm slaps your clit over and over. “My beautiful empress…all wet and squirming for me…” her eyes glazed over with lust before pressing dark lipstick stains against your body, spanning from your neck to your thighs. “Squirming only for me…”

Courtesan Ningguang! Who has you wrapped up in her embrace while kissing your neck and cleaning the release off your thighs. She adores taking care of you after sex, and will often stay close to you to keep you grounded after your high. “Feeling better?” She’d murmur against your ear, pressing another small kiss to the shell, “Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll warm up a bath for us soon…”

Courtesan Ningguang! Who keeps you warm in the bath with her body, humming a small tune in the spacious tub while washing the sweat off your body. “My beloved empress, I promise to always take care of you…” she whispers, using a small washcloth to wipe off your temple lovingly. “That is my promise to you as your first courtesan…”

BEIDOU

Courtesan Beidou! Who offered to be your second courtesan after spotting your beauty wandering at the docks. What’s a pretty face like you doing around such dangerous and smelly terrain? Don’t worry though, Captain Beidou will keep you safe. Both on the docks and in your palace because now she intends on marrying you…

Courtesan Beidou! Who shows off her impeccable strength and muscle, impressing your father as you needed someone strong who could pass that on to your heirs. Beidou loves spoiling you with her strength, and you oftentimes find her lifting you into her arms to carry you from place to place.

Courtesan Beidou! Who has some beef with your first courtesan: Ningguang. She doesn’t like how prissy and strict Ningguang can be, so she often sneaks you out whenever you’re spending time with her. Practically kidnapping you in your own home, as she throws you over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes and laughs while carrying you to her secret spot. “Don’t worry my empress, we won’t get caught. I’ll make sure of it…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who is the rebel of the imperial harem. She’s the one who sneaks you out the most and helps you do risqué things like sneaking out to see the Lantern Rite without guard supervision. “We don’t need those pesky guards, you have me…” she’d always say, pressing a kiss to your worried little brows. “I’ll keep you safe, my sweet empress…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who chuckles and covers your mouth as you both hide in the bushes of the royal gardens, making out under the moonlight in order to have a little midnight rendezvous with just the two of you. “Naughty little empress…” Beidou purrs, groaning in your ear as she sits you on her lap, “Playing hooky with the pirate, eh? Pretty thing like you was just craving for some fun…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who rubs her large, calloused hands over your folds and sinks two massive fingers inside. “Shhh…there are guards nearby…” she’d whisper into your ear, chuckling quietly at the way you rode her fingers so desperately behind the bushes. “Hah…such a desperate one…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who holds you close to her and smirks when she overhears guards trying to find their missing empress. The other courtesans worried sick for your whereabouts, when you were just sitting behind the bushes getting your brains fucked out by the second courtesan. Whimpering and shaking under the captain’s touch, as no one has ever treated you this roughly before…

Courtesan Beidou! Who chuckles as you climax all over her thighs, stroking a hand down your spine before kissing you tenderly. “You did so well, my empress…” she murmurs out huskily, making sure you are kept warm as she drapes her cape over your shoulders. “Rest now, you precious thing. Your captain’s got you from here…”

Courtesan Beidou! Who sneaks you back into your room with your nude body clinging onto hers. She makes sure her muscular body covers you entirely, as she tucks you into bed and pets your cheek endearingly. “Sleep now, my dearest ocean pearl, I will ensure everything is settled with the others.” And with a gentle kiss from the huge, burly pirate, she leaves to go settle your whereabouts with the other courtesans, making sure her dearest empress was safe and sound…

KEQING

Courtesan Keqing! Who was the third courtesan recommended to you by the first courtesan: Ningguang. She is a member of the Liyue Qixing and due to her high status as the Yuheng, it made her a very strong candidate for Queen consort and your potential wife.

Courtesan Keqing! Who is the most uptight out of all the courtesans in your harem. She’s the one who keeps you in line whenever you act up, and is the one who scolds you most of the time whenever you sneak out with the other courtesans. (Cough. Beidou and Yelan. Cough) She doesn’t mean to be so hard on you, but you are the empress of Liyue! You needed to be prim and proper!

Courtesan Keqing! Who takes up the responsibility of helping you manage your extracurriculars. Whether it’s dance practice, embroidery or managing certain affairs, Keqing is always the one helping you and making sure you understand what to do. “Like this, my empress,” she says for the sixteenth time, cupping your waist as she guides you to the music of the zither. “Eyes on me, a royal must never look at their feet…”

Courtesan Keqing! Who is prickly on the outside but sweet on the inside whenever she’s alone with you. Keqing hates to admit it, but her empress is someone she cares very deeply about, and she wants to see you flourish into a beautiful and powerful leader for Liyue. “My empress, please, allow me…” she murmurs softly as she helps tie the sash to your robe. “Honestly, next time you should let me dress you in the mornings…”

Courtesan Keqing! Who can’t help but think dirty thoughts about her empress all day long in that little head of hers. Her mind runs vivid with wonders of your naked body and she can’t help but touch herself late into the night while thinking of you. “My empress…” Keqing moans out softly, fingers rubbing at her folds while she spreads herself out on her bed, masturbating to today’s image of you practicing calligraphy with her in your office.

Courtesan Keqing! Who’s always been unable to hide her lust for you. The way your hands move so delicately over the paper, writing in quick, languid strokes that have her going crazy. “Ah…!” Keqing gasps as a deep, burning ache in her core begs to be satisfied. “Forgive me, my empress…” she mumbles to herself, heart racing like crazy as she realizes she’s touching herself to her beloved empress.

Courtesan Keqing! Who jumps when she sees you standing at the door, smiling softly at her lewd display. You wanted to help her? Touch her? Her empress!? Keqing blushes at the thought and tries not to get too excited. “O-Only if you insist, my empress…” she murmurs softly, feeling your body dip into the bed and roam your hands all over her. “Oh…”

Courtesan Keqing! Who’s not the same, strict person she is when she’s in bed with you. Her body reacts ever so sensitively to your touch, as she lets you explore her body quietly under the moonlight. “Hah…now don’t be a tease…” Keqing chuckles nervously, “You know I hate it when you test my patience.”

Courtesan Keqing! Who is more than eager to help guide you on how to touch a woman. Her voice alike to that of her tutor persona, except this time she was teaching you how to fuck her. “Just like that, my empress…” she pants out breathlessly, shivering as you insert a finger into her folds, “You've always been such a quick learner…”

GANYU

Courtesan Ganyu! Who was the fourth courtesan recommended to you by both Ningguang and Keqing. The secretary of the Qixing and a half adepti that possessed impressive capabilities, she impressed your father as well as he knew that a Qilin would protect you and bring good fortune to the family. (And produce strong Qilin heirs…)

Courtesan Ganyu! Who is the gentlest and sweetest out of all your courtesans. She’s the one who tries to sneak into your bed in the middle of the night to snuggle with you, which often leads to you waking up to a sleepy Qilin woman resting on your chest. Sometimes you can catch her snoring in her sleep, but you don’t mind it because she’s just so damn cute…

Courtesan Ganyu! Who despite being so clingy, knows to maintain a certain degree of professionalism as she’s the one who takes care of the dreaded paperwork. As a secretary of the Qixing, she has her fair share of experience when it comes to tinier affairs, so she’ll always offer to help you, even when you insist you have it under control. “Please don’t overwork yourself, my dear. I’ll take care of it as soon as possible…”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who despite being so soft and gentle, has a strong, protective side whenever you are threatened. “Get behind me, my empress. I’ll take care of him!” She exclaims rather protectively, making sure you stay behind her while she charges a cryo arrow at the intruder. “Ah, he’s gone now, my dear. Are you okay? Were you frightened?”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who is the best at calming you down whenever you get into a dangerous situation. While the other courtesans are busy dealing with whoever threatened or harmed you, Ganyu is by your side and holding you tightly against her body. Soothing you with her touch as she makes sure her darling empress isn’t harmed in the slightest. “Do not fret, my love. Beidou, Yelan and Shenhe have gone after the assassin. They won’t threaten you again…” she presses a small kiss to your cheek and makes sure you’re calmed down before heading back into the safety of your room, holding your hand every step of the way.

Courtesan Ganyu! Who sees you’re clearly frightened for your life and tries to calm you down by distracting you with intimate touches. Her fluffy blue hair tickles your skin as she cups your cheek to make you face her. “Why don’t we do something to distract ourselves,” she whispers shyly, a blush overcoming her features. “I'll help you forget all the anxiety you felt today…”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who is lying on her back with her cunt squished against yours. Gasping and moaning as you rut into her thighs and try to scissor your way to an orgasm. “Ah…mnngh…you’re doing so well, my empress…” Ganyu pants, her soft skin sending you into another plane of ecstasy. “So good…so good…keep moving— nngh…hah…~”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who wants only the best for her beloved empress so she pulls you down halfway to meet for a kiss. Hips melding together in sticky, wet squelches as she pants and lolls her tongue out into yours. “Is it good…? Do I feel good…?” She so desperately wants to please you, it makes your heart melt and you can’t help but groan. “I take that as a yes…hah…I love you, my empress…”

Courtesan Ganyu! Who lies beside you after cumming all over your thighs, pulling you close so she could lay by your side like the loyal courtesan she was. “I’m glad you felt good, my dear…” Ganyu whispers sweetly, before brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. “I will always keep you relaxed, that is my duty as your beloved courtesan…”

YELAN

Courtesan Yelan! Who becomes your fifth courtesan after saving you from a bunch of bounty hunters holding you hostage. After making sure you were safe and sound in her arms, she feels something stir within her chest when she gets a closer look at your face. To the public, your face was often hidden behind a thin, lacy veil in order to conceal your identity. However, as your veil is pulled back, Yelan now had a full view of the beautiful empress underneath. A sight that left her speechless and with a desire to become yours…

Courtesan Yelan! Who isn’t seen around the palace as often as the other girls due to her missions, but always makes sure to greet you in your room whenever she gets back. “Hey, darling. Missed me?” She’s perched lazily on your balcony with a Glaze Lily in her hand. “I got you a lil’ something on my mission. No need to thank me…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who, like Beidou, will often sneak you out into the city to experience things you’ve never felt before. She takes you around to see all that Liyue has to offer, and encourages you to try ordinary things that you may or may not have tried. “Here, try this. It’s called a kebab.” Yelan chuckles as you look at her with confusion, wondering how on Teyvat you eat this without utensils. “Pfft, you just bite the food off the skewer, empress. Here, let me show you…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who enjoys showing you and teaching you the simpler things in life. You may be a sheltered empress, but Yelan can show you just how fun an ordinary life can be. “Who knew the empress could be so messy when they eat…” she chuckles as you struggle to eat the kebab stick off the skewer, wiping the sauce off your lips with a napkin. “You’re just so cute…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who takes you by the hand to pull you into a dark alleyway. She just saw a few guards patrolling the area and had to act fast, pushing you up against the wall and shielding you with your body. “Apologies for the tight space, my empress…” Yelan chuckles, cupping your cheek to look at her, “We just have to stay here a little while longer…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who sees her sweet little empress getting shy for being in such an intimate position. She can’t help but tease you more as she leans in closer to tilt your chin forward. “You know, since it’s so dark, no one will be able to see their beloved empress getting naughty with her courtesan…” she trails a hand down to your ass and cups it, giving it a teasing squeeze. “Some ordinary people fuck in alleyways when they have the chance. Would you like to try, my dear empress…?”

Courtesan Yelan! Who has her empress pinned up against the wall with their robe pulled up and exposing their privates. Yelan kneeling down to your glistening hole and spreading it open with her thumbs. “Oh, how precious…” she purrs to herself, giving it a sensual lick. “It even puckers when I breathe…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who cannot believe she’s giving head to the empress in such a dirty and dimly lit alleyway. She had to admit, seeing her empress whimpering and begging for more in a place this low class was really turning her on. “Yeah? You like that…?” Yelan laughs into your cunt, pushing her nose deeper against your clit, “You like getting eaten out in a dirty alleyway? My, my…you surprise me everyday your majesty…”

Courtesan Yelan! Who is so proud of you when you climax all over her face and paint her tongue white with your cum. She wipes the residue off her face and stands up to kiss you, letting you taste what you accomplished in that dirty, dark alleyway with her. “You did so well, my dear…” Yelan whispers, quickly fastening your robes back on so the two of you could leave. “Come on, it’s about time we head back to the palace…”

SHENHE

Courtesan Shenhe! Who was the sixth courtesan presented to you by Cloud Retainer herself, an adepti that your father greatly respected and admired. Cloud Retainer promised your father that her disciple: Shenhe would bring great strength and protection to your family, as well as ward off any evil spirits that dare threaten your bloodline. Though heavily antisocial and a bit…intimidating to your father, he accepted her into the family and made her the sixth courtesan in your harem.

Courtesan Shenhe! Who is very quiet and doesn’t interact much with anyone but you and her fellow courtesan: Ganyu. She’s quiet, awkward, and doesn’t know what to do, so she just follows you around like a curious little puppy and hopes for the best. While others may find this annoying, you yourself didn’t mind and allowed Shenhe to follow you around as she pleased. Acting like a bodyguard of sorts among your courtesans as she is the only one who is stuck by your side at all times.

Courtesan Shenhe! Who seems so dangerous and intimidating to others, yet soft and gentle around you. She loves how you cup her face and treat her so kindly, her heart thumping whenever her dearest empress kisses her, and palms getting sweaty because she just adores you so much. “…Is my face that fun to hold?” She asks when you do this for the umpteenth time. She doesn’t mind it, in fact she seems to enjoy it. “If that is what my empress likes to do, then so be it…” You are the only one in the world who could touch her like this…

Courtesan Shenhe! Who is like a tall guard dog whenever she accompanies you outside the palace. She stands protectively by your side, keeping watch of any activity or accidents that could harm her beloved empress. “…The road is slippery. Should I carry you? I don’t want you to fall.” Before you could even respond, she picks you up anyway, “…I’m carrying you.”

Courtesan Shenhe! Who is so strong and agile that she manages to take you across Liyue with just her arm strength alone. Taking you to a private spot in the mountains so the two of you could have a private picnic date together away from the other courtesans. “Is the ground soft enough for you, my empress?” Shenhe tilts her head and makes sure you’re seated on a comfortable patch of grass. If sitting on the ground isn’t to your liking, then perhaps it’d be best to sit on her lap instead. Which you do.

Courtesan Shenhe! Who quivers under your touch as you caress her face lovingly, her muscles easing under your hold as she allows herself to indulge with you for once. “Your majesty…” she can feel herself grow hot as you press a kiss to her temple, groans rumbling from her throat as she yearned for more. “I want…more.”

Courtesan Shenhe! Who can’t stop herself from pushing her beloved empress down to the ground, the red ropes trying to suppress her carnal desire for you as she kisses and bites your neck with want. “Ganyu taught me how to properly please you…” she mumbles against your skin, her hands moving down to unfasten your sash. “I will do my best. You can count on me, my empress.”

Courtesan Shenhe! Who uses the skills she learned from other courtesans to pleasure you as best as she could. Slender hands lifting your thighs up as she slots her cunt against yours rather harshly. “Mnngh…Courtesan Ganyu taught me that this was called scissoring…” While groaning out her words, Shenhe begins rutting her hips into yours to try and replicate what Ganyu described. “Is this right? It feels right…nngh…” She tries her best to hold in her moans but it just feels so good. Though her moves are sloppy and you barely feel any good rhythm, you could tell Shenhe was enjoying herself and that was all that mattered to you.

Courtesan Shenhe! Who tries her hardest to get you off but it just isn’t enough. She’s not that experienced in pleasing a person compared to the other girls but that’s okay, you’ll teach her… “My empress…? What— oh!” Shenhe’s eyes widen as you gently flip her over, deciding she’s done enough to please you for one day. “…I see. You wish to teach me how to scissor properly? …Very well.”

#ningguang smut #ningguang x reader #beidou smut #beidou x reader #keqing smut #keqing x reader #ganyu smut #ganyu x reader #yelan smut #yelan x reader #shenhe smut #shenhe x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin women smut #genshin women x reader

2K notes · View notes

1800-fight-me · 1 year

Note

request:

ig it’s not a request but a loose idea,,

maybe aemond and his lady wife only have had vanilla sex not because either of them want it to be spicy but because aemond thinks his new quiet little wife won’t enjoy anything other than missionary … but maybe they’re walking together in a secluded part of the gardens and catch aegon with a woman doing some spicy things and aemond sees the way his wife stares before she blushes furiously and he decides to to take things to the next level with her later on

New Experiences

Aemond Targaryen x Petite!Female!Reader

A Practice Makes Perfect Fic - This can be read as a stand alone fic or part of the series!

Rating: Explicit- MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Warnings: Semi-rough sex that turns into soft and loving smut... oops

Word Count: About 2.5k

Synopsis: After a walk in the castle gardens that leads to an unexpected show, you and your husband try something new.

Author’s Note: I'm back!! I'm so sorry it has been so long since I've posted, life has been absolutely insane but I'm so happy to have finally had time to write and get this out!

Aemond Masterlist

You bounced up and down on the balls of your feet as you waited for Aemond to meet you for a walk in the gardens.

He’d been fairly busy as of late and you were excited to have some time alone with him.

You smiled brightly at him as you spotted him walk towards you.

He truly is the most handsome man in the entire seven kingdoms in your opinion.

His long silver hair looked so pretty as it swayed back and forth as he walked.

“Hello, little wife,” he purred as he pulled you into his arms and placed a soft kiss on your lips.

“I have missed you,” you said sweetly.

He smiled, a soft upturn of his curved lips, and nudged his nose against yours before he kissed you once again.

“You are too sweet, I shall lose myself in you if I let myself indulge too much,” he whispered against your wanting lips.

“Indulge away, dear husband,” you whispered back and surged up to fully press your lips to his.

He groaned softly, low in the back of his throat, before he pulled back and looked at you.

“You test my self control, beautiful. I thought you wanted to go for a walk,” he said.

You smirked at him.

“That is true, I suppose,” you said, but still you clung to him.

“Come, let us walk for at least a little while before I drag you back to our rooms,” he said with a kiss to your temple.

“You would not meet much resistance,” you promised as you looped your arm in his.

He led you to walk along the path and appeased you as you prattled on about how pretty the flowers were.

He told you about his day and smiled at you warmly as you told him about yours.

You were content, happier than you ever imagined you could be. Aemond truly was the perfect husband and you took joy in being his sweet little wife.

As you turned a corner to a more secluded part of the garden, which you were certain Aemond had led you into for a reason, you might still be new to sex but you were not ignorant of your husband’s intentions and desires, you gasped at what you saw.

Aegon was buried deep inside a woman, her back to him as she bent over and rested her hands on the bench before her.

They both groaned in pleasure before he noticed you and Aemond.

You whirled around and buried your face in Aemond’s chest.

He wrapped his arms around you and cradled the back of your head.

“Really, Aegon? In public where anyone could see you?” Aemond said sharply.

Aegon chuckled.

“Were you not coming here to do the same?” he challenged.

Aemond scoffed.

You peeked at Aegon and the woman and he caught you and winked at you.

His hands continued to grip her waist tightly and he did not pull himself out of her.

She did not seem too embarrassed by her predicament.

You quickly hid your face in Aemond’s chest once more.

“Shameful,” he scoffed at Aegon before he led you safely away.

“Hypocrite!” Aegon yelled at his younger brother and laughed loudly.

Your mind raced. You had never witnessed such an act before and Aemond had certainly never taken you in a position from behind like that. It looked…. rough, but the woman seemed to be enjoying it.

Aemond had always been gentle with you since you’d been wed to him a couple months ago, and you enjoyed it immensely.

But you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d enjoy something different just as much.

If perhaps it was you and Aemond in that position….

“Are you alright, little love?” Aemond asked as he stopped and led you to look up at him and meet your gaze.

“Y-yes,” you breathed out as you stared up at him.

He was beautiful. The way he moved, the way he spoke, the way he looked at you with such care and devotion.

You wanted him.

“I am sorry you had to witness such depravity. A proper lady such as yourself should not be subject to such things…”

He trailed off as he spoke.

His brow furrowed as he studied your face.

Then he narrowed his eye at you.

Your husband had become all too skilled at reading you and your expressions.

“Tell me, my sweet little wife, what are you thinking about right now?” he asked as he leaned down close enough that his nose nearly touched yours.

You struggled to think straight with his welcomed intrusion into your space.

“I….”

“Tell me,” he whispered.

“You have never taken me in such a way. I-I couldn’t help but wonder if…”

You felt like you could burst from embarrassment.

You dropped your gaze from his and he surprised you when he pressed a firm kiss to your lips.

“If?” he asked, a murmur against your lips.

“If it would be enjoyable for you to be, perhaps, less gentle with me?” your voice was practically a squeak due to mortification by the time you finished your sentence.

He chuckled darkly and kissed you firmly as he pulled you tight against his body.

You whimpered and melted into his body.

“I would be more than happy to indulge your curiosity,” he said as he pulled back and stared at your lust filled eyes.

————

“You will tell me if anything is too much, yes?” he demanded between harsh kisses as he kicked the door closed behind the two of you.

“Yes,” you gasped as he lifted you up and shoved your skirts up.

You wrapped your legs around his trim waist and held onto his shoulders as he continued to kiss you desperately.

His tongue pillaged your mouth as he walked to the nearby table, the one he usually used for letter writing and things of the like, and shoved everything off it.

He dropped you down onto the table you gasped.

His predatory smile only made your toes curl as he surveyed you like a feast he was soon to

devour.

You grinned.

You entangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him back down to kiss you.

His hands moved to the lacing at the back of your dress, but quickly he lost patience.

He instead gripped the bodice and ripped it in a display of strength that had you gushing with another wave of desire.

He managed to remove you completely of all your clothing quickly, with a few more rips, until you were bare before him.

“Too much?” he asked as you stared at him aghast.

He pulled off his eyepatch and shirt and your mouth watered at the expanse of pale muscled skin you saw, your husband’s body was a sight you would never tire of.

“Absolutely not,” you replied.

He pressed his lips to yours once again as he kissed you and filled you with his desire.

Your hands trailed down the expanse of his tight torso and landed on his belt.

Your hand drifted lower, to grip his hardened length, and he groaned into your mouth as his lips continued to move against yours.

His hands gripped your waist tight, tight enough to bruise, and you loved it.

You yanked off his belt, and with his help, removed his pants as well.

His hands drifted lower.

“I am ready, I want this to be about your pleasure, fill me now,” you gasped as you bit down on the most sensitive spot on his neck.

He let out a low sound, practically a snarl, before he pulled back from you.

He stared at you and he breathed heavily.

You batted your eyelashes prettily at him as you returned his gaze and offered him your bare body for his enjoyment.

He pulled you off the table and against his body.

He kissed you one more time before he spun you around so your back was pressed to his chest.

You could feel his hardness against the curves of your ass and whimpered in desire.

“You,” he murmured in your ear, “my sweet little wife, are fucking perfect.”

You shivered.

He pressed down on your back so you bent down and rested your front upon the table and bared yourself to him.

He groaned at the sight of you from behind, wet and desperate for him.

He trailed his fingers lightly down the length of your spine and your toes curled in anticipation.

“Aemond,” you whined in impatience.

He smacked your ass lightly and you gasped.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Please, I need you,” you said breathily.

Your heart pounded as he stretched the moment until it was nearly excruciating.

You wanted him so much you couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t form words.

“As you wish,” he said softly before he pressed himself inside you in one swift and deep thrust.

You choked at how deep he felt inside you.

“Oh shit,” you groaned.

Your husband was well endowed, that you already knew, but he had never felt quite so large as he did at this angle.

He chuckled darkly and leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

His hair fell around his shoulders and tickled your back.

You shivered once again.

He trailed his lips down the length of your back until he stood fully straight again.

You couldn’t help the mewls that fell from your lips.

And then, finally, your dragon filled you with his fire and passion in a way he never had before.

He grunted as he thrust in and out of you so hard and deep that the table beneath you shook.

He gripped the flesh of your hips tightly and held you in place as his pace somehow increased.

Your wanton moans filled the room and made music as they intertwined with his low groans.

There was a spot deep inside you that both you and Aemond were familiar with, but no position you tried before had ever given it quite this much attention.

He hit that spot over and over inside you and the pleasure was so intense and overwhelming it was nearly painful.

Your pleasure built and built as he buried himself deeper inside you than he had ever reached before, over and over and over again.

“Aemond,” you gasped.

He stopped his thrusts momentarily and you whined.

He leaned down and pressed his sweat glistened chest against your back as he laid his weight atop you.

You let out a high pitched whine at the feel of more of his skin against yours.

He ran his hands all the way up your sides, arms, until finally he placed his hands atop yours and laced his fingers with your own.

He ran his nose softly against your cheek and hummed in contentment.

You sighed happily.

You craned your neck and pressed your lips to his.

He kissed you, slow and sweet before you released his lips and laid your head back down on the table.

He began his thrusts once again, but this time, slow and more shallow.

Your pleasure was not diminished, however, it felt just as wonderful, just more intimate.

His cock rubbed against that same spot within you, slowly and smoothly, continuously and repeatedly.

‘Mmmm,” he moaned in your ear.

“Oh gods,” you breathed out.

“You are perfect, little love,” he murmured and slipped a hand from yours.

His large hand found your waist once again and then slipped around the bend of your hip to the front of you.

You gasped as his long fingers found your bundle of nerves and began to draw circles around it.

He continued a steady and even pace as he touched you.

Your sounds of ecstacy increased in volume and he groaned along with you.

You felt the tension in your body grow and grow as his fullness pleased you more than you ever thought possible.

“Let go,” he whispered and you did as he bid.

The tension inside you snapped and you came, and clenched down on his hardness as you did.

He muffled his own sounds of pleasure as he bit down on the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

The pain only intensified your pleasure and you could not help the volume at which you called out his name.

He found his own release shortly after you, and spilled himself deep inside of you.

You both panted as you caught your breaths.

You turned your head and he kissed your wanting lips.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips.

“And I love you, dear husband, but I fear you are crushing me,” you said breathily.

He chuckled and hauled himself off you.

He helped you stand upright and laughed pridefully once more as you clung to him due to your unsteady legs.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before he scooped you up and held you to his chest.

He carried you over to the overstuffed chair before the fire and sat down as he held you on his lap.

You nuzzled your face into his throat and he hummed in satisfaction.

He rubbed his hand up and down your back.

“Are you alright? I fear I was too rough-“

“No, it was perfect, you were amazing, I feel wonderful,” you said as you pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat.

“Good,” he said lowly as he continued to rub soothing circles into your skin.

“Though that was my favorite dress,” you said lightly.

He laughed in surprise.

“Then I shall have another made for you, little wife, but I cannot bring myself to apologize,” he said and you could hear the smile in his voice.

You giggled.

“No apology is necessary,” you reassured and he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

You both fell into a contented and satisfied silence as he held you.

Then you remembered that it was surely only mid afternoon and he must have duties to attend to.

“How long before you have to go?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“We merely intended to go for a short walk in the gardens, I fear I have taken you from your afternoon responsibilities,” you said with a yawn.

He laughed softly.

“No, my sweet wife, I had no intention of only taking you for a walk. I cleared my entire afternoon,” he replied.

“Aemond!” you said in shock and surprise before you laughed.

“It is your fault for tempting me so,” he said heatedly.

You huffed a laugh.

“Whatever shall we do with an entire afternoon, just the two of us?” you teased.

“Hm. I can think of a few things,” he said, his voice low and deep as he turned your head and pressed his lips to yours once more.

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fluff #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x wife!reader #practice makes perfect #aemond #aemond targaryen x y/n

623 notes · View notes

millersdjarin · 1 year

Text

Some Invisible String

Chapter IV: When You're Young, You Just Run

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (afab)

Rating: E (eventually)

Summary: Ten years after Reader left Joel for reasons he still doesn't know, they find themselves together again in a town called Jackson. Joel has questions he's too afraid to ask; and Reader dreads having to give the answers.

Chapter length: 4.2k

Warnings/Tags: injury recovery, light angst

Chapter III

Series Masterlist

notes: second to last chapter ahhh! thank u for reading and enjoying this fic with me, you're all just great humans!

Joel takes me up a nearby hill outside of the town’s walls, through old trails, over fallen trees and across the crunchy snow. I wrap my arms around him, pressing the side of my face into the back of his jacket, and I tell myself that it’s to shelter my face from the oncoming icy wind.

The view up here is incredible, stretching across the entire town and all the way to the hydro-plant beyond. Mountains surround us, covered in white, with light grey clouds hanging low over them and blue skies higher up. I can see birds of prey soaring up above us; could probably hear them if I listened closely enough. Despite the wind and the gentle crunch of Felix’s hooves on the snow, it’s so silent out here.

These days, silence isn’t necessarily the same thing as safe, but Joel tells me that this is one of his regular patrol routes, and he knows it well. If anything’s hiding somewhere, he knows where they’ll be.

So I just enjoy it.

Eventually we find our way to a building that looks half-snowed under. It’s not entirely covered, though; it’s a lookout post, probably used for fire watch way back when. A decent size, but only a square, the windows are mostly boarded up, except for one on each wall. Joel unlocks the door and the five padlocks that hold it shut. Before leading Felix inside, he helps me down, holding my weight until I’m stable.

Once we’re all in, and Felix is munching happily on the net of hay that’s already strung up in here, I take a moment to look around. There’s a hunting rifle propped up in the corner, along with some ammunition, and a bow sitting next to it with a few arrows strewn across the floor. A wicker bench, like something from a garden furniture set, is in front of one of the windows, complete with a pillow and a blanket. In the other corner there’s a fold-up chair beside a locked case, presumably full of more supplies.

“We keep it stocked for an emergency,” Joel explains, leading me over to the bench. I can manage without my crutches now, but the cold makes it harder, so he supports me around my waist until I’m sitting down. “People’ve got stuck here in blizzards before.”

“Thought you said this place was safe?” I joke.

He chuckles and grabs the blanket, wrapping it carefully around my shoulders. “It is. I promise. Here, put your leg up.” He gestures for me to turn in my place, taking a gentle hold of my ankle. Following his guidance, I lift up my leg and grimace at the discomfort. It feels better for having it up, though.

“Warm enough?” Joel asks.

“For now,” I say. “Depends how long you keep me here.”

“You make it sound like I’m holding you prisoner,” he pulls across the fold-out chair, takes off his backpack before sitting down opposite me.

“I mean, I can’t exactly leave on my own right now,” I smirk, gesturing to my leg.

He reaches into his backpack and pulls out his canteen. “How’s it feeling?”

“Better. A lot better.”

“Amazing what a little rest can do, huh?”

“Yeah. You’d know.”

He looks up at me and raises an eyebrow. “Really, with the sarcasm?”

“We all know you don’t know how to just stop and rest,” I say. “Don’t think I’ve seen you chill out since…well, ever.”

He holds up his flask like it’s proving a point, and gestures to the room around him. “What does it look like I’m doin’ now?”

The light from the windows surrounds us, casting shadows over his face. His cheeks are flushed pink from the cold, his lips just a little blue. It takes me a moment to gather my thoughts enough to respond, but before I can, he reaches into his pack and pulls out two…whisky glasses?

When he opens his flask and pours it, I expect to see water. But, nope. A golden amber liquid flows out into the glasses, and the smell hits me in an instant.

Yup, that’s whisky alright.

“Joel,” I gasp teasingly, “are you usually such a rebel on patrol?”

Grinning lopsidedly, he hands me one of the glasses. “This ain’t a patrol,” he says. I take it from him, and our fingers brush together for a second. “And it’s good for warmth.”

“Ah. And here I thought you were finally going to chill out.”

“Alright, alright,” he shakes his head and uses his own glass to gesture to mine. “Drink.”

“What are we drinking to?”

He doesn’t answer. He looks up and takes a good sip, smacking his lips after he’s swallowed. I watch the movement in his throat; his Adam’s apple bobbing down then up again. His eyes follow the glass as he lowers it again.

I wait for him to speak. Nervous, I lift my own glass to my lips and take a sip. It’s good. The best I’ve had in years, actually. The warmth goes all the way down my throat and to my insides, spreading through me in an instant. It makes me shiver in the best way. “Damn,” I say into the quiet. “That’s good shit. Strong, though.”

Joel nods in agreement. “Best in my collection.”

“Collection, huh? You’re living it up here in Jackson.”

“Sure am,” he smiles, wry. Tips his glass at me, then takes another sip. A small moment of quiet passes. “What brought you to Wyoming?” He asks then, surprising me. “Were you comin’ to Jackson?”

“No,” I almost laugh. “How would I have known about it? And besides, if I’d known there were so many people here I’d have stayed well away.”

“People find us in all sorts of ways. You’d be surprised how fast news travels.”

I shrug a shoulder and take another drink.

“So where’d you go?” He asks. Then, as if he wanted to word it differently, “I mean—where’ve you been? Since you…since we parted ways?”

“Here and there. I wanted to go South for the winter, but my plans went South instead, I guess.”

“You were alone when we found you,” he says, glancing up at me. “Have there been…any other groups since the old days? Friends…partners?”

I shake my head. For a moment, my thoughts are too bleak to say anything. I think of what it was like to be a hunter. It was hell. Carnage every day and night. Tommy and I used to talk of leaving; Joel was always reluctant, saying that we were safer staying put. He was probably right—that is, if my feelings hadn’t gotten in the way.

After that, it seemed better to be alone.

“No,” I answer eventually, staring solemnly down at my nearly-empty drink. It’s giving my head a nice buzz. A little burn in the back of my throat. If I really let myself, I could believe that we're in a cabin in the mountains during normal life, on vacation, sitting and enjoying a drink on the stoop before heading to bed.

“You…you’ve been alone this whole time?”

“Yeah,” I sigh.

He’s surprised into silence, it seems.

I glance up at him and catch him staring. He looks away straight away, but I see something on his face. Something sad. A slight crease in his brow, his mouth open a little like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing; like what he’s hearing devastates him.

“Jesus Christ,” he curses eventually, just a breath. Staring at nothing, he shakes his head. “You survived on your own all this time.…”

“Yeah. I mean, I wouldn’t have survived this,” I motion to my leg, “if I’d been alone last week. But other than that…yeah. Just me. Sometimes it’s easier like that. Easier to slip past people unnoticed.”

He still looks upset. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something, then closes it again. I want him to look at me so badly that it hurts. I want him to turn to me and let the morning sunlight shine on his face and make all the coldness around me fade away.

I never thought I’d see him again. I thought I was dying, I thought I was hearing things when his voice came to me.

“Joel…” I start, finding a lump in my throat I hadn’t noticed before.

“You didn’t have to leave,” he says before I can say any more. Finally, he looks at me, and there is so much sadness and regret in his eyes that it actually hurts. “You hear me?” He asks. “You never had to leave. Back then. You could’ve stayed.”

“Joel…I already told you, I couldn’t let myself…”

He sighs. Looks away again, down at his glass, shaking his head over and over so much that he must be getting dizzy.

“Joel,” I say again. It feels like the only thing I can say that makes sense. “You don’t…we don’t have to talk about this…”

“Yes, we do.”

“…Okay. Yeah. You’re right.”

“I need you to hear me,” he says. Then his eyes meet mine, and it’s different. More intense, purposeful. I couldn’t look away even if I tried—even if I wanted to. “You didn’t have to leave. You told me why you left, and I’m telling you, it wasn’t…you didn’t need to.”

I shake my head. “I did,” my voice comes out as nothing but a whisper. “I did, Joel. I couldn’t—I couldn’t keep how I felt to myself, I couldn’t keep it in check…”

“Goddamit, you’re not—you didn’t have to keep it in check!” He raises his voice just slightly. “I’m trying to tell you that I…I had those feelings, too. Okay? It—it wasn’t just you.”

Oh.

I freeze.

Oh.

“…Oh,” because suddenly the racing chaos of my mind is silenced to just that one syllable.

He holds my eyes for another long, piercing moment, then looks away. Briefly he seems to consider something, his jaw working away as he thinks, and then he puts his glass on the floor and runs a hand over his hair. Jesus. The silver flecks in it are shining in the sunlight.

“I get why you thought you had to leave,” he says, quiet again. “I do. And honestly, I’m not sure I could say I wouldn’t’ve done the same thing if I were you. But I…if you’d just told me back then, if I’d known…”

Somehow, I manage to swallow the emotion in my throat enough to say, “Would it have made a difference?”

“It would have made every difference.” He says, with a tone that says Are you kidding me?

“Oh,” again. Dumbly. “But…it’s not like we could’ve…we could never have been…” I know what I’m trying to say, but it won’t come out. How do I express that I just never saw a way for a relationship to work? That I never saw how we could possibly fall in love and be together and act like everything was normal, like there wasn’t enough blood on our hands to fill a bathtub?

I close my mouth and regroup for a second. Or, try to.

“I just,” I say, my voice coming out smaller than I’d expected, “I thought I was protecting you.”

Resting his elbow on his knee, he runs his hand over his mouth, rubs it across his beard. He does it a few times as he stares ahead at nothing again, deep in thought.

I watch him, silent. Waiting.

Then, he takes a breath. “Do you still feel that way now?” He drags his eyes to me, and holds them.

I swallow heavily. Wide-eyed, I stare at him. “I…” yes. Of fucking course I do, Joel. I loved you then, and I love you now. I will always fucking love you. “Yeah,” I admit. I can’t lie to him, and really, there’s no point now, anyway. “I do. I never stopped.”

For so long, he just stares at me. Nervous, I fiddle with the fabric of my gloves, pulling at loose threads, unsure how much damage I’m causing to them because I can’t fucking tear my eyes away from Joel’s, despite the fact his gaze is making me lose my mind. I decide to take the gloves off, suddenly feeling closed-in by them.

I keep trying to speak, to fill the silence somehow, to try and mend a wound that I’m not sure is even still open anymore. It feels like it’s closed: the chasm of questions and pain between us is different now. Lighter. Like how Joel looks lighter these days, without the weight of the world on his shoulders, that’s how it feels in the air between us.

When he speaks again, I’m not expecting it, despite the fact I’ve been waiting with bated breath. “I missed you,” he says.

Oh, God.

“I missed you so goddam much, you know that?” His eyes flick to the space on the bench beside me. Without thinking I shift my leg, moving it off so there’s space for him if he wants.

“I missed you,” I say, my voice cracking a little from the truth of it. The gut wrenching, undeniable truth in just those three words. “Joel, I…” As I’m shaking my head, lost for words that better convey what I’m trying to say, Joel gets up and comes to sit beside me. I turn to face him, finding the backs of my eyes stinging with tears.

(I swallow them down so hard that it hurts. I’ve cried enough. I’ve cried enough over him.)

“Hey…” he says, dipping his head to catch my eyes that have somehow fallen from his. He puts his finger under my chin, holding it up and propping his thumb on the point. He took his gloves off when he came inside, so his bare skin is against mine, his fingertips cold and calloused but fuck, so perfect. Catching my gaze again, he looks so deeply into my eyes that it’s like he’s searching my fucking soul. “Don’t look away,” he says.

I shake my head. My hands are trembling in my lap. Heat is blooming from my stomach to my chest, threatening to burst out of me at any moment because fucking fuck, I never thought Joel would touch me like this. Holding me tenderly, not because he’s patching a wound or inspecting one, not to get me to look in his eyes to stop me from passing out from pain; no, holding me because he wants to, because he wants to be close to me, wants to feel me like I want to feel him.

At least, I hope that’s what he wants.

The way his eyes flick down to my lips gives me a little more confidence.

“Joel…” I whisper into the inches of empty space between us. I can feel his hot breath brushing against my face. “Joel, you don’t have to…you don’t have to forgive me, you know that, right?”

Surprising me, he laughs. Shakes his head a little, smiling at me with crow’s feet around his eyes, the sunlight glinting into the flecks of grey in his beard. Could I reach out and do what I’ve always wanted to? Touch him there, run my hands through the coarse hairs, maybe even feel them on my face?

“I know I don’t have to,” he says, still chuckling. “But I do. Even though I wish you’d have made a different call, or at least told me you were leavin’…”

“Joel…”

“—I’d say we got pretty lucky, findin’ ourselves here again.”

He’s so close to me now that I have to look between each of his eyes in turn. I could do it forever. He’s so close. I’ve wanted this for so long.

I never thought I’d see him again.

Let alone have this.

“Yeah,” I manage to whisper. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Now, if you don’t mind,” he shifts his hand from under my chin to my cheek, pressing his palm against my jaw and smoothing his thumb over my skin, “I’d like to do what I’ve wanted to do for a damn long time.”

I nod before he even clarifies. I’d let him do anything. Fucking anything.

He sighs before closing the distance between us, like he’s relieved. Like he’s saying, Finally.

My agreement doesn’t make it out of my lips because he’s pressing his to mine, capturing my top one between both of his, and—

Holy shit.

It’s the softest kiss I’ve ever had.

So tender. Like he’s just testing the waters. Asking me a question. He barely even lingers for a few seconds.

But, Jesus Christ.

I find myself letting out an embarrassing whine when he pulls away and tries to meet my eyes, his eyebrows raising, checking it’s okay; but I can’t wait, I can’t fucking wait or hold back any longer—

I pull him in by the lapels of his coat and push my lips back into his, barely even having time to open my mouth. He groans against me and I feel the vibrations of his voice in my fucking mouth.

It’s crazed at first, finding a rhythm; messy and uncoordinated but all I can hear is his lips sucking at mine and him trying to find his breath amongst the mess of our mouths. It doesn’t take long for it to flow, to work, to understand the push and pull of each other and I lean into it with everything I have. He’s breathing into my mouth, his breath hot and sweet, and his lips have gone from cold to hot in the blink of an eye.

He’s got two hands on me now, grasping at the back of my neck with his fingers pushing up into my hair from the roots. My hat slips from my head. He uses the extra space in an instant, gasping happily against my mouth when he can get his fingers up the entirety of the back of my head, threading them into my hair. Goosebumps spread across my skin, and not from the cold.

At last, my hands are where they’ve always dreamed of being. On either side of his face, fingers running through his beard. I can hear it; the hairs brushing across my skin and under my nails. Lightly, I curl my fingers so my nails scratch his jaw. He likes it; moaning softly as he tilts his head to the other side, barely pulling off of me before our mouths are together again.

Alas, though, as much as my hands have found their home, there is so much more of him to discover. One of them slides back into his hair and I swear to God he fucking whispers my name against my tongue as I take a handful and tug.

Soon I’m shrugging him out of his jacket after pulling on the zip, and he’s doing the same, undoing each of the buttons on my coat while I suck kisses to his cheek, his beard, wherever I can get to him.

As soon as our coats are on the floor, he unwinds my scarf and throws it on the floor, and makes the most of having new access to my neck. Hungry, he dives in, his mouth already open as he mouths at the expanse of my neck in long—but not long enough—kisses.

“Joel, oh, my God,” I gasp when he sucks particularly hard on the spot where my neck meets my shoulder. My hands are in his hair again, anchoring him to me. A bolt of pleasure comes from my neck to my brain, goes straight between my legs.

It’s as he kisses me again and I start to fumble with the buttons on his flannel that he makes a different noise in the back of his throat. A soft protest, I think.

“Hey,” he pants, breaking off from my lips and taking a gentle hold of my wrists, stopping them in their work.

I’m completely out of breath. I’ve not been this out of breath from something good in fuck knows how long. My lips are swollen, I’m sure they’re bright red, and I can feel wet patches on my neck. “You okay?” I ask with my hands settling on his chest.

He laughs, breathy, “Never better. I just…want to make sure that we…” he has to swallow and catch his breath for a moment. As he does so, he lowers his head and kisses up my forearm, all the way to my elbow. His hands caress the underside of my arm like it’s something he treasures. “God, I want this to go further, but I said we’d be back in an hour and I know Ellie’ll come lookin’ if we’re not…”

Still panting, I laugh a little. All I can do is press my forehead against his.

He lifts up my hand and puts it over his heart. Even through the flannel of his shirt I can feel it pounding. A gasp pulls into my throat at the feeling.

“Besides, it’s cold as hell, and I’d really like you to be warm and comfortable before we…”

He’s right. Goddamit, he’s right.

Resigned, I nod. We sit like that for a minute, just coming down, catching our breath. His lips are pinker than I think I’ve ever seen them. I think I was sucking at them even more than I thought I was; the pink colour fades gradually into his skin like smudged lipstick. I wish now that I’d had chance to suck at his neck, to mark him like I’m sure he’s marked me already.

Then, it hits me.

That I never even thought I’d get to touch his fucking beard.

Let alone suck his neck.

“God,” I whisper, mostly to myself. My voice cracks a little, and I’m not sure it’s just from the blinding desire still throbbing between my legs.

“You okay?”

“I just…yeah. Yeah, I’m…I’m really fucking good.”

He laughs. Keeping one hand over mine where it stays on his chest, he brings the other up to cup the side of my face. Our foreheads are still resting on each other and his palm is so warm against my cheek.

I’ve wanted this for so long.

I have to tell him. He knows, but I have to tell him. “I’ve wanted this for…forever,” I confess, probably only finding my confidence because we’re too close for him to look at me. With my spare hand I hold the side of his neck, the tips of my fingers brushing into his beard.

“Since the moment I saw you,” Joel’s voice is gravelly as he nuzzles his nose into my wrist, “I wanted this.”

I can’t help it.

I lean in and kiss him again. Close-mouthed and quick, but just because I can.

He takes a deep breath. Holds it a minute, then lets it out, his sweet breath brushing against me once more. I want to taste it again. Feel it going into my lungs. Feel it on my neck, on every inch of me.

“We should head back,” he says, reluctance coming from his very core. “You’re gettin’ cold.” He squeezes my cold hand.

“You’re the one who took off all my winter gear,” I retort with a happy smirk.

“Yeah, alright. You started it, though.”

“Um, you pushed my hat off as soon as we got started…”

“The hat thing was a mistake.”

I remember how it felt to have his hands spread out over every inch of my head, and shudder. “Oh, no, it was no mistake, Joel.”

He laughs. “Come on. Let’s wrap back up. I’d love to say we can pick up where we left off as soon as we get back, but I’ve got patrols today, and Ellie wanted me to take her riding…”

I hold the back of his neck. As much as I absolutely would let him take me right here on this freezing wooden floor, I don’t mind waiting. For the first time in decades, I feel like we might just have time for it. Like everything doesn’t have to be a rush. “It’s alright,” I say, meaning it.

“I promise, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Mm. I’ll hold you to that.”

“Good.”

After another—very restrained—kiss, we start wrapping up again and pack up to head back. In the back of my mind as we potter around each other, I feel the horrible tendrils of doubt try to creep in around me. Wondering: what if this is all too good to be true? What if there’s no way we can make this work? I was never even going to stay here, but does he want me to now? Is that where this is going?

But then Joel takes me in his arms before we step back outside, and holds me like it’s the first time.

And it is, really. He’s only ever done this before when I’ve been hurt or sick.

And for that moment as his hands press into my back, my mind is quiet.

{chapter 4/5}

notes: thank u for all the support and love on this fic, it means the world to me, i'm so glad you're enjoying it! there's more where this came from and i'm just so grateful to y'all for reading this <3 ps: the next chapter will have smut (YAY)! also, if you're reading this the weekend i post it (21st jan 2023) then please send me smut requests for joel miller or din djarin <3 love u xo

taglist: @rosymythologies @lover1307 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @pinkrose1422 @lavenderhhze @abbyhaslongshorts @trippoverrt @emilianamason

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #my fics #my fic: joel #my fic #some invisible string

193 notes · View notes

rorywritesjunk · 3 months

Text

The stars in their courses will run and bring their hearts earthward to hear her.

Buggy brings his son in to the bakery to get a treat for his birthday. You like decorating cakes. Rating: PG-13ish. Warning: These two are trying their best. Birdie’s got some issues. Buggy’s got some issues. Together they have a subscription. Talk of child abandonment, Buggy doesn’t want to talk. Communication!! Is!! Important!! These two are really trying with that but it doesn't always go well. Both accidentally insult the other but it's okay. Both are sensitive about some things. A/N: Now that Birdie has a name I think of her a lot tbh. I'm having fun with these two just... having lil issues about what they should or shouldn't do. But as I've said, they're trying.

Title comes from “Girl in the Garden” by S.J. Tucker.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7

Chapter 7

You regretted sleeping in your room the next morning. Between the uncomfortable mattress and waking up from the little sleep you had to Darby's cries for you, you wanted to cry yourself as you went about the kitchen preparing breakfast, balancing a clingy and sniffing toddler on one hip while poking at the eggs with your other hand. Buggy tried to take the boy back to give you a break but any time he tried Darby would cling tighter, so he gave up, instead taking over cooking breakfast.

Exhaustion was very much a thing you dealt with all day. Putting Darby down for a nap, however, was the easiest part once you said you would take one as well and that the two of you could be in Buggy’s bed. That seemed to be a good idea to him, even if naps were dumb.

Lunch was simple because it was uncomfortable to be on your feet for very long. Darby wasn't as clingy so he was fine to sit at the table with some crayons and paper while you cooked. Buggy eventually showed up, frowning when he saw the scowl on your face.

“What did I do now?” He asked, wondering if he forgot to do something to help you out. He was trying, really, but he still had a ship to run. You sighed heavily and closed your eyes, wincing as you shifted your weight from foot to foot.

“Well, you got me pregnant. That's what you did.” You reminded him. “The kid's been moving around and it feels weird, my back hurts, my feet hurt, and you better not get me pregnant again after this kid.”

Buggy smirked at the mention of again because to him, it meant maybe you were warming up to the idea of a relationship with him. He couldn't necessarily promise it wouldn't happen again, but he could at least help you out with this current pregnancy. He walked over and wrapped his arms around you, hugging you from behind as his hands went to your stomach, lifting it up gently. It took you a second to register what was going on, but the relief you felt on your back had you leaning back into him as you let out a sigh of relief.

“Ho-how did you know to do this, Buggy?”

“Read some things.” He shrugged. You tilted your head back to look at him with a frown.

“You read?”

He had every right to look offended by your question and you felt bad, that wasn't necessarily what you meant, so you backpedaled immediately.

“What I meant is, you read up on pregnancy stuff?”

“Yes, as soon as you told me I found some things to read.” He grumbled, keeping his arms around you as he rested his chin on your shoulder. He could have left his arms and walked away, but he enjoyed this closeness. “I wanna make sure you and the little brat are taken care of, y’know?”

“Thanks.” You mumbled as you closed your eyes for a moment. “Can you just do this until the baby is born?”

“Maybe, you gonna sleep in our bed tonight?” He asked cheekily. “I know that mattress of yours is shit. You sleep better in our room. You know it’s going to feel better.”

“D’you have to keep saying ‘our’ room?” You asked with a sigh. “Are you still falling in love with me even when I feel like shit?”

“Considering I'm the reason you look like shit, yes.” He kissed you on the cheek but you turned to glare at him. “What?”

“I said feel like shit, not look like shit, you asshole.”

“Same thing.” He shrugged, not loosening his hold on you even as you tried to pull away. “Now, now, babe, just relax.”

“You're an asshole.” You sighed. “I need to get lunch finished. And then Darby wants to learn how to bake bread, but he and I are both going to need another nap somewhere between that and dinner. I have too much to do.” You tried again to get away but he kept you from moving. “Buggy-”

“You sit your ass down and I'll finish cooking, okay?” He said as he finally let you go before giving your ass a pinch. You turned and swatted him for that. “What? Babe, I'm capable of making lunch for my kid and you.”

“Fine, make lunch. I need to sit.” You sighed as you started to walk away, but he tugged you back over to him and kissed you on the cheek again. You let him, returning the kiss before you paused and realized what you did. He winked at you as you headed back to the table beside Darby, cooing over his drawings as he happily showed you his artwork. Buggy watched the two of you for a moment before turning his attention back to lunch, managing to stop it from burning.

Buggy insisted you take a break for the day. He handled anything Darby needed, which his son was fine with but he wanted you to be involved. The three year old was definitely attached to you, loved calling you Mama, and even when Buggy explained that you were laying down to rest, Darby made sure to go find you anyway, ignoring what his dad just told him.

He barged into the room, saw you on the bed with your back to the door and hurried over. Buggy caught him by the arm before he could disturb you, but you turned your head to look at them with a frown.

“I thought I was allowed to rest.” You mumbled as Darby squirmed in Buggy’s arms. You sighed and patted a spot on the mattress in front of you. Buggy plopped the toddler down and Darby crawled over to you. You wrapped your arms around him and kissed his little face all over while he shrieked in surprise before giggling and trying to get away from you. “You are just the cutest, Darby. I love you so much.”

“Really?” Buggy and Darby both asked at the same time. That caught you off guard, so you looked up at Buggy as you hugged Darby.

“Yea…? I love this little kid, he’s wonderful.”

“You haven’t known him that long.” Buggy frowned. You rubbed Darby’s back as he snuggled up against you, making himself comfortable.

“Isn’t that what I said to you when you admitted you were in love with me?” You asked. Buggy shrugged and you reached for him, grabbing his hand and tugging him closer to the bed. He hesitated just for a moment before climbing into bed behind you, one hand going to your stomach while the other went to Darby, stroking the back of his head gently. “You’re slowly growing on me, Buggy.”

“Oh, so my charming personality is winning you over then?” He smirked as he nuzzled your cheek. “How could you not fall in love with me? I am great, you know.”

You chuckled softly and looked down at Darby. “Daddy is silly.”

“He is!” Darby agreed. Buggy huffed and ruffled his son’s hair.

“Don't betray your dad, kid.” He grumbled as Darby just grinned at him. “Turning my kid against me. Mama’s mean.”

“Mhm, and Mama wants a nap.” You told him as you closed your eyes. “We gotta talk about baby stuff at some point, Buggy, but not now.”

“Baby stuff?” Buggy repeated. “What kind of baby stuff?”

“Later.” You yawned as you snuggled Darby some more. He yawned as well and blinked up at you. It wasn't long before you dozed off. Buggy didn't move right away and neither did Darby, with the latter dozing off eventually while Buggy remained awake, hugging you close to him.

“What baby stuff?” Buggy asked a few days later at breakfast. You looked up from cutting Darby’s food for him. Buggy was watching you as he ate. “Well?”

“Well, you know, I should see a midwife or doctor at some point. And unless you still have things from when Darby was a newborn, then we'll need things like diapers and clothes.” You explained as you pushed Darby's plate back over to him. The three year old was happy to start eating. “Maybe we need to stop off somewhere for this sort of thing.”

“I… don't have his baby things.” Buggy frowned. “Had to repurpose some of it for new garments as he grew older and wore things out.”

“That's fine! I just need some basics then.” You told him as you started to eat. “I'm not concerned about getting a crib, if you take the lid off my trunk then the baby can sleep in there. I can make it cozy.”

“What?! No, the baby will have a crib!” Buggy looked at you in shock and mild disgust. Why would you want the baby sleeping in something other than a crib? “We can get one on the next island. My baby isn't sleeping in anything other than a crib!”

That seemed to strike a nerve but you just shrugged. “We had to get creative at the orphanage. If you want a crib then you're buying it.”

“Fine!” He snapped back, surprising you and Darby. His son looked between the two of you before reaching out for you, and you pulled him into your lap. Buggy felt bad for startling his son but he was bothered by how casual you were about this. “Look, this isn't the orphanage. My kids get a bed, understand? Darby had a crib and it was rebuilt into the bed he had now, and I'll do the same for this brat. So I'm getting a crib.”

“Okay, Buggy.” You pulled Darby's plate closer to him so he could keep eating. You said nothing as you are, occasionally checking in with Darby to make sure he was okay. Buggy watched the two of you for a bit before he got up and left. You sighed and looked down at Darby. “You okay, sweetheart?”

He nodded and finished eating before leaning into you and making himself comfortable. You wiped his face clean with a napkin and kissed him on the forehead. He beamed up at you and you smiled, touching his cheek gently before tightening your arms around him.

“You're a good boy, Darby. I love you.”

“Love you, Mama.” He snuggled up against you.

“So, should we talk about breakfast?” You asked Buggy as you tucked Darby in for his nap. You knew he was standing in the doorway, you had heard him walk up. He avoided you since breakfast, disappearing into the ship somewhere as he dealt with the crew. You were fine with that, wanting space from him anyways. “Because we probably need to.”

“What's there to talk about?” He muttered as he came over to check on Darby. His son was clutching his stuffed toy as he started falling asleep. “You make this look so easy.”

“Yea, after he cries and fusses and scowls at me, it's super easy.” You chuckled. “Today he glared at me which was a little startling. He looks so much like you when he does that.” You turned and ushered Buggy out of the room, shutting the door behind the two of you. “He called me a mean Mama when I told him it was naptime. It was pretty funny.”

“He called you mean?”

“It’s fine, Buggy. Kids do that.” You assured him. “He didn’t mean it.”

Buggy frowned and crossed his arms. “Still…”

You led him to your shared bedroom and sat down on the bed, looking up at him. He sighed and sat down beside you. You reached over and patted his arm carefully.

“I’m fine with the baby having a crib, I just wanted to make things easier for all of us.” You told him. “But if you’re really in love with me, you can’t get upset with me if I bring up my past. It’s not fair. I turned out fine, okay? And… this kid will be fine, and Darby is fine.”

Buggy nodded and looked down at his feet. He didn’t really want to have a conversation, he wanted to just ignore it and hope it disappeared, but you were right. He couldn’t get upset like that if you mentioned the orphanage. He just kept having thoughts of what if that happened to Darby or to this baby? What if Darby ended up in one because Buggy had been too late, or what if you dropped the baby off because you didn’t want a reminder of him? You told him you would have never done such a thing, but could he believe you? He was in love with you, he knew it. He never met someone like you before, so kind and caring, especially to his son. How could he not?

He rubbed his face and turned to look at you, taking in the sight of you leaning back on one hand while the other rubbed your swollen stomach. Pretty soon you would pop, giving Buggy a new kid to worry about and take care of, and he was nervous to have help this time. He got by okay with Darby. There were mistakes, sure, but Darby was always safe. That’s what mattered to Buggy.

With a sigh, he leaned forward, letting his head rest against your stomach. You let him get comfortable, running your fingers down his neck and arm slowly, letting him relax against you. Buggy was pretty sure he felt the baby moving, pushing against him as he laid there. It was such a weird feeling to him. He never got to feel that with Darby, but having you onboard meant he got to experience these little things. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to relax.

“Fuck, I love you.” He mumbled. “So much, babe.”

#buggy the clown #birdie x buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x you #opla buggy the clown x you #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy x oc

21 notes · View notes

writingwhimsey · 13 days

Text

Married to The Enemy- Shingen Ch. 19

Warning: NSFW, 18+ content, fluffy, spicy, super loving, body worship, oral female receiving, PIV

Chapter 19

Shingen led Ava out to the garden, his arm wrapped around her waist as they walked. After her being distant for two weeks, he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to keep her close. He wanted to indulge himself just a bit, especially after her confession. The garden offered them the perfect place to be alone…and a selfish part of Shingen had wanted to have Ava to himself for the rest of the evening.

“It’s a beautiful night out.” Ava said, looking up at the stars.

Shingen smiled as he looked at her…the stars were nothing compared to the beauty that she held. “It truly is, especially now that I have my moon goddess at my side once more.” He was then giving her waist a squeeze, pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head.

Ava smiled, leaning more into him as they continued to walk. Shingen could tell she had something on her mind…another reason he had wanted to steal her away. “Again, I would like to apologize…”

Shingen cut her off, placing a finger on her lips. “You’ve nothing to apologize for, Ava.” He assured her. “We may have not spent any time together these last two weeks, but I feel closer to you now. Especially knowing you return my feelings.”

Ava’s cheeks reddened, but she smiled and then kissed his finger that was pressed to her lips.

Shingen grinned. “My goddess is feeling affectionate.” He declared slowly removing his finger from her lips.

Ava smiled. “Very affectionate, actually.” She answered.

“Oh?” Shingen asked, they had already stopped walking at this point. He turned to her and wrapped both of his arms around her waist, pulling her close. “Does that mean I can have some more kisses?”

Ava smiled as she lifted her arms up to wrap around his neck. “I was thinking…of something a little more.” Her cheeks were red and she bit her lower lip coyly.

Shingen felt his heart rate pick up. He had to fight the urge to scoop her up into his arms and carry her to bed right that instant. “Oh?”

Ava nodded. “I’m going to go back to my room. Come by in about fifteen minutes.”

“You are planning something?” He asked.

Ava nodded. “I think you will like it.” She replied, stretching up to place a light peck to his lips. “Do you think you can wait?”

“I am a patient man…though this will be the longest fifteen minutes of my life.” He replied.

Ava giggled. “I promise it will be worth the wait.”

“Oh, I know you are.” Shingen replied, pecking her lips.

Ava giggled and blushed, kissing him once more before pulling away and heading inside, leaving Shingen to ponder just what she would have waiting for him.

Ava…

After parting ways with Shingen…and once I was out of his sight, I practically ran to my room in a hurry to get myself and everything else ready. Saki had already set out candles and the incense I had requested. All that I had to do was light them. That was the easy part.

Once I had all of that taken care of, it was time to get myself ready. Saki had laid out a special sleeping kimono for me. It had been a parting gift from the other seamstresses at Azuchi. It was made from a rather thin pastel pink silk. I took off my regular kimono and folded it up neatly and slid into the silk one.

I draped the thin silk over myself and loosely tied it, leaving it mostly open. I brushed one shoulder down so that it barely hung on my arm and my cleavage was nicely exposed. I took my hair down and quickly raked my fingers through it, letting it fall in waves down my back.

I felt so giddy as I inspected my reflection in the mirror. I hoped Shingen found me as sexy as I felt. It was funny, I felt as nervous and giddy as I did on our wedding night when I had thought it would be our first time.

Almost as soon as I was finished there was a knock on my door. “Ava, may I come in?” Shingen called.

“Come in.” I called, trying to make my voice seductive. I turned as the door slid open.

Shingen’s gray eyes were instantly on me, a look of desire flashing through them. His breath seemed to catch in his throat. “You look…stunning.” He told me as his eyes continued to drink in my form. He quickly shut the door behind him. He smiled as he looked at me and then at the room. “Candle light and incense…?” He made his way over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me close.

I felt my cheeks flushing slightly. “I…I know it’s far from the first time for either of us, but since it’s our first time together…I wanted it to be special.” I confessed, as I rested my hands on his arms, feeling the bulging muscles beneath his sleeves.

Shingen’s eyes were warm. “As it should be.” He replied. “And…you’re sure that you’re ready?”

I nodded. “Yes…I…I want you, Shingen. And I want to share all of me with you.”

Shingen’s breath hitched. Then a seductive smile graced those handsome lips even as a fire burned in his eyes. “Perhaps Yuki is right that you are an enchantress because your words work magic.” He murmured before capturing my lips in a heated kiss.

I melted into him as his tongue slid inside my mouth to twist and tangle with my own. My knees gave out and the only thing holding me up was Shingen’s strong arms. Slowly, we broke our kiss, both of us panting. He grinned at me as he scooped me up in his arms. “I’ve got you.” He said as he carried me over to the futon, laying me down gently before climbing over top of me.

My breath caught in my throat as I looked up at Shingen. His large frame fully encompassed my smaller body. I felt my heart rate picking up already.

Shingen lifted a hand to caress my cheek, “That’s quite the lovely flush and a rather heated look in your eyes.” He mused, leaning in to kiss me lightly on the lips. “I wonder what other looks I can bring to this beautiful face as I worship my goddess tonight.”

“Oh…I have a feeling you’ll be seeing lots of faces.” I replied.

Shingen gave a warm chuckle as he leaned in to kiss my lips and then down the side of my neck, over my exposed collarbone and shoulder. As he kissed me with those warm lips, those incredibly large and impossibly strong hands began to roam over my body, spreading heat and pleasant tingles over my body, even through the thin fabric of my sleeping kimono.

“Mmm…Shingen…” I moaned as I reached my own hand for him, fingertips reaching inside the front of his kimono and tracing over the hard muscles of his strong chest…which I had a feeling would make a nice pillow for me later.

“Mmm…your touch is truly divine, Ava.” Shingen murmured against my neck. His hand reached for the sash that was loosely tied and gave it a gentle tug. “And you’re a generous goddess, allowing me such easy access.”

I felt my cheeks heating up. “I…didn’t want to waste time…” I replied.

Shingen grinned at me as he undid my sash, my kimono falling open and revealing my body to his appreciative gaze. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.” He told me, his eyes drinking in every inch of my form as if he had been a man lost in the desert and I was an oasis. “Every part of you is absolutely perfect.”

I felt my entire body flush with pleasure from his praise. In the past I had always had the urge to cover myself the first time I went to bed with a man…but with the way Shingen was looking at me, I had no such desire. I wanted to continue to feel his heated gaze on me.

“So…you’ve been imagining?” I asked, a coy smile on my face.

Shingen’s fingertips began to trace delicately over my skin. “I am a man and you are the most stunning woman my eyes have ever beheld.” He replied. “How could I not want to imagine?”

I could tell his words weren’t empty flattery. There was no faking that look in his eyes. Hungry and sincere. Passionate and warm. A moan slipped past my lips when I felt Shingen’s calloused fingers trace over my nipple. “Mmm…Shin…gen…” I moaned, arching into his hand.

“I want to touch and kiss and worship every part of you.” He told me as he leaned in and began to kiss over my heated flesh.

“Mmm…that sounds…nice…but I…”

Shingen looked up at me as he gently caressed my thigh with his other hand. “But what?”

“You’re…not the only one who has been imagining.” I replied, reaching my hands towards the sash at his waist. “I want to see you, too.”

Shingen grinned at me. “I can’t ignore such a request from my goddess.” He replied, allowing me to untie his sash and then shrugging out of his kimono.

Somehow he looked even larger with no clothes on. I was able to see all of the muscles that had been hidden and hinted at beneath his clothes. Perfectly broad shoulders…perfect pecs… washboard abs…bulging biceps…perfectly sculpted thighs…he called me a goddess, but he was the one who had a truly divine body.

I reached my hands to forward, trailing my fingertips over his hardened muscle. I guess swinging around a great sword is one way to get the body of a god. “And you called me perfection…” I murmured.

Shingen smiled as he leaned in, his face over mine. “I take it my goddess is pleased?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.

“Very.” I answered.

“Well, you’re about to be even more pleased.” He replied before capturing my lips once again, his tongue delving into my mouth. He tasted so sweet.

I moaned into the kiss as I felt his large hands roaming over my body. One hand massaged a breast while the other teased my thigh, fingers tracing over the flesh before giving a gentle squeeze.

I wrapped my arms around him, my hands roaming over the muscular lines of his back. Every part of Shingen was pure perfection…and the way he completely covered me with his body… it was amazing.

I arched my back, pressing myself closer as Shingen continued to kiss me and find all of my most sensitive places with his hands. His hands were clearly skilled and I was quickly becoming putty in those large masterful hands.

Our kiss ended, only for Shingen to trail kisses down the side of my neck, over my collarbone. “Every part of you.” He murmured against my heated flesh. “I will worship every part of this beautiful body. Let you know how much I cherish you. How much I desire you.”

His actions and his words only added to my growing desire. His mouth came to my breast, drawing a nipple between his lips, flicking it expertly with his tongue, causing electric thrills of pleasure to flow through me. “Nhg…Shingen…” I moaned.

Shingen released my nipple only to move to my other breast and repeat the process. I arched into him, wanting more of his touch and kisses. Once he had finished, he trailed kisses over my chest and the valley between my breasts before moving to my sibs, my side, and my tummy.

“Mmm…you’re so soft and supple…” He murmured as he spread loving kisses over my lower belly. “So perfect…” He continued to kiss lower.

“Your…your kisses…feel so good…so warm…” I gasped out.

“I am glad.” Shingen replied, turning those gray eyes to my face as he placed a kiss just below my belly button. “May I?” He asked.

I nodded. “Yes…please I’ve…been wanting you to touch me there…”

Shingen chuckled reaching for my legs and then resting my thighs on his shoulders. He kissed the inside of my thighs before dipping his head down and those warm lips were on the center of my heat.

I gasped when I felt his tongue slide out, circling and flicking and twisting and twirling in ways I didn’t even know were possible for a human tongue to move, over my sensitive bud. “Ahn…Sh-Shing…gen…” I moaned as he continued to devour me as if he were a condemned man and I were his last meal.

“Hmmm…” He hummed into my heat even as he continued to kiss and lick me. My hands moved of their own accord going to fist in his hair as if I could hold him there. I bucked my hips, seeking more as my release drew nearer.

I could feel that coil winding tighter and tighter and soon my release was barreling through me. Strong and powerful. Shingen continued to stimulate me, drawing out my release.

When he slowly pulled away, I was beginning to come down from my pleasure high. “Hah…Shingen…that…was amazing…”

Shingen smiled as he moved to hover over me once again, licking his own lips, which were still glistening with my release. “You taste even sweeter than I imagined.” He told me.

“You…imagined that too?”

Shingen nodded. “Yes…I had dreams about it in fact.” He answered. “Though nothing compares to reality.” His arms wrapped around me as he began to reposition himself, his lower body between my legs.

“I…I’ve maybe had some similar dreams.” I replied. “Especially after our first kiss.”

Shingen grinned. “Well, I’m glad I could make your dreams come true.” He said. “And what else did you dream about? Perhaps…this?” He asked as he slowly slipped himself inside me.

I gasped as my body stretched to accommodate him. Shingen was large everywhere. “Mng…y-yes… though reality…is much better.” I agreed.

Shingen let out a groan once he was fully sheathed inside me. He stayed there a moment, letting me adjust to his size. “Reality…is indeed better.” He told me.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and smiled up at him. “Shingen…I’m glad…I married you.”

Shingen’s cheeks reddened slightly. “As I am glad…I married you, Ava.” He replied before capturing my lips once again and beginning his thrusts.

My hips bucked to meet each of his thrusts, not wanting to miss a second of the pleasure he brought me. I could feel my pleasure building once more and my body clung tighter to Shingen. The feeling of his large frame pressed against mine, just the lightest of pressure as he made love to me…it sent me over the edge and I was soon falling into another round of blissful pleasure, my vision sparking white as another powerful release hit me.

“Sh-SHINGEN!” I called as I came undone.

My release soon pulled Shingen into his own and he groaned my name. “Ava!”

We were both panting as we descended from our shared pleasure high. We still clung to each other, Shingen still resting inside of me. Neither of us ready to part in any way yet. Shingen’s gray eyes looked deep into mine. “You are amazing, my goddess.” He told me.

“I could…say the same about you.” I replied.

“I hope you know…this is only the beginning.” He told me. “I need all night to truly worship every part of you.” He was then kissing me once again. This would be the most pleasurable evening of my life and the first of many.

Tag list: @limonzu @zulablaise @tele86 @selenacosmic @kisara-16

#ikesen shingen #ikemen sengoku shingen #shingen takeda #ikemen shingen #otome shingen #cybird shingen #ikesen #ikesen au #arranged marriage au #ikemen sengoku #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #fanfic #ikemen series #otome boys #fanfiction #cybird

18 notes · View notes

crazyk-imagine · 1 year

Text

Don’t Fear the Beast or Inanimate Talking Objects

Pairing: Beast!Nick “Goose” Bradshaw x Belle!Reader Characters: Beast!Nick “Goose” Bradshaw. Belle!Reader, Tom “Iceman” Kazansky (brother), Rick “Hollywood” Neven (brother), Charlotte “Charlie” Blackwood (sister), Penny Benjamin (Sister), Mike Viper” Metcalf (Dad), Pete “Maverick” Mitchell (Lumiere), Marcus “Sundown” Williams (Cogsworth), Sam “Merlin” Wells (The enchantress), Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe (Henry “Wolfman” Ruth) (Coatrack), Peppermint (the horse [a true icon]) Adam, Gaston, Le Fou, Carole Bradshaw (briefly mentioned), Sydney (Belle’s mother) (briefly mentioned) Warnings: Angst, fluff, mix of two versions of this movie, I have no regrets, sad times, mentions of death, Bradley adopting reader as his mother, Hollywood and Iceman are big brothers, Charlie and Penny are big sisters, chaotic family energy, this has consumed my thoughts for this entire week, Nick being depressed over losing his lovey Carole, the castle has terrible weather, this took a minute for me to write Word Count: 13,897

Top Gun: Disney AU

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

You had a feeling something was wrong all day, your stomach constantly in knots your anxiety causing your heart rate to skyrocket.

It was unusual for your papa, Mike, to not return the day he is supposed to. And if he knows he won’t, he sends word, so you and your siblings won’t worry… especially with the story of the lonely beast who roams the abandoned castle somewhere in the woods.

The story has always been your brothers’ favorite and the very reason they continue to join the hunting parties the people in town have been because they “want to protect the family.”

And there’s no way Mike would ever return during the night since his eyesight isn’t the same as it used to be (no matter how much he tries to deny it).

Another thing he would never do is let your most prized possession, your family horse, Peppermint, loose.

Your siblings know never to let anything happen to her; she was the last thing ever given to any of you by your mother, even if your family say she’s yours.

You can’t reminisce long as the sound of her neighs gets you to push yourself off your knees and quickly exit your small vegetable garden.

You’re quick to grab her reins and slowly place your hand on her head in the space between where her eyes meet (her favorite spot to be pet and the only place that can calm her down). You gently shush her, never removing your hand. “It’s all right, Peppermint. You’re safe now.”

You swear she understands you because it looks like she shakes her head, deep breaths huffing out of her nose as if she disagrees. “Where is papa?”

She takes a gentle step forward, trying to burrow her head into your hand. “Oh, no.”

The sound of your name diverts your attention away from your beloved horse.

“Rick.”

He closes the front door behind him. “What happened? Where is father?”

“I- I,” you struggle to respond, not having an answer yourself. “I don’t know.”

“What are we going to do?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know but I will find out, okay?”

“What do you mean? What does that mean, Belle?”

You purse your lips at the nickname your family hasn’t used since you were a child. You grab his arms, looking him in the eye. “I will be back. But, if I’m not. I need you to-”

“I’m not going to think of that because it’s not going to happen. I know you and I know you will bring our father home... just give me-”

You shake your head, “no. You are not coming.”

“I am your brother-”

“You are the youngest-”

“I’m older than you.”

You click your tongue, “still the youngest, but I will return. I promise. I just,” you glance over at the garden. “I need to find someone to tend the garden.”

“The garden.” His eyes widen as he thinks about what you’ve said. “The garden!?”

You nod, “yes, the garden. Don’t- I’ll be back.” You run to town knowing who you need to talk to will be there.

You stop, taking a deep breath before entering the town; you look around to see if anyone (who could tolerate you was nearby), you’re in luck. “Oh! Oh! Yes!”

You run over to Sam, typically known Merlin by those who don’t like him.

“Sam! Sam, dear!” You take a deep breath as you run to him. “Sa- am.”

He smiles upon your arrival until he sees your hunched over, out of breath position. “Deep breaths. In… and out. Again.”

“I know how to breathe but,” you take a deep breath, “thank you nonetheless.”

“Of course.”

“Now, the reason I rushed over is to ask you for a small favor?”

“And what favor is it this time?” He asks, with a raised brow.

You tend to ask him favors a lot, most of which consist of borrowing sugar or if he could help you find a screw so your papa can fix your clock, the one gifted to you by your mama before she passed since your siblings never want to help you with these things.

You shake your head. “I need you to watch over the garden… papa has not returned, and I fear for his safety. You know of the stories.”

“Which stories? Everyone in town is fearful of the woods for many reasons,” he points out, but the expression on his face doesn’t match his words which you ignore due to your worry of your papa’s safety.

“You know,” you lean forward as if you’re sharing a secret. “The stories of the beast.” You forgo the unnecessary details of the abandoned castle seeing as he was the one who told you about it, even though hardly anyone knew this minor detail... something you don’t find to be weird.

“You think he has wandered into the castle?”

You sigh. “I would most certainly hope not but he had asked me if I wanted anything when he decided to come back from his trip. Of course, I told him no seeing as he had too many items to get from the lists my sisters left, but he wouldn’t accept that answer. I fear he had stopped somewhere dangerous to get me such the thing I asked for, when he knew we could go on a trip to the nearby town and get it there. Oh.”

The man shushes you. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’ll turn up before you can even exit the town line.”

You squeal, hugging him. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Sam. I will not forget this. The youngest of my brothers will be home but you know how none of them appreciate the love of the garden.”

He nods, “I do. Now, go home and pack a bag.” He pulls the blanket off his basket and hands you a few rolls he bought from the baker earlier along with a medical herb mix he makes for anyone who gets injured.

You shake your head, “oh, I couldn’t.”

“You can and you will. It will help you on your journey.”

“Okay. Thank you again, Sam.”

He smiles.

You run back to your home, grabbing your coat and bag with necessary items for any scenario you could think of on the spot; the book that you never take out lays at the bottom followed by some medical wrap, ointment, Sam’s “magical” herb mix as well as the rolls and a small handful of food suitable for humans and animals.

You want to pack more but there’s hardly any room for other things. “These are necessary items,” you tell yourself. “That’s all I can bring with me. It's okay. You’re okay,” you tighten the grip on the strap of your bag. “He’s okay.”

After getting Peppermint ready and grabbing the spare key for Sam, you return to where you last saw him.

Rick stands in the doorway. “I don’t like the thought of you leaving on your own.”

You nod, “yes well. If I don’t do it, we may not have a father anymore. Now move, Rick.”

He doesn’t.

“I said move.”

He gives in and takes a step back. “At least let me come with you.”

“No,” you shake your head. “I need you to stay here. Tom is working out of town so that he can have enough money to leave home while Charlotte and Penelope are out trying to find new fabric so that they can have new dresses made for them. One of us must be here.”

A heavy sigh slips past his lips. “Fine but, I’m not happy about this.”

“I know,” you smile before pulling him in for a hug. “I will be back before you know it.” You prepare Peppermint for the journey and take off back to your dearest (and only friend).

He turns to the sound of Peppermint’s hooves clopping against the dirt floor.

You reach into your bag for the key, holding it out for him to take. “I’ll be leaving now. If papa and I do not return before tomorrow…” You gulp.

He nods, pocketing the key before patting your shoulder in a comforting manner. “I will make sure you both return, if that is the case, you have my word.”

You resist the urge to smile, knowing full well that he and Rick would be the first ones to lead your search party. “I know I’ve said this before but... thank you.”

And you’re off.

You hoist yourself up on Peppermint's saddle and crack the reins, putting your faith into her to guide you to your papa’s last location.

She slows down once the two of you reach the blocked entrance of the forest where the beast has been rumored to reside.

“Is this where you came from?” You ask out loud, voice low, close to a whisper. “How did you two get in?”

As soon as those words are said, the splintered branches and thorny vines begin to retract themselves, creating a walkway for you to ride through.

Peppermint takes a step back; your hand instantly reaches her “special spot.”

“We’ve got this.” You pat her head before clutching the reins, “we can do this.”

There’s no turning back now, it’s now or never and you have your mother’s genes.

You crack the reins once more and run through, glancing over your shoulder to see the entrance return to its original state. You shake your head; you can’t focus on that and return your focus onto your current mission.

The wind continues to get harsher and colder; you lower your head to protect yourself, putting your full trust into your precious horse.

She slows her pace, but you can’t bring yourself to raise your head until she comes to a full stop.

It's even worse than you realized, the castle from all the stories is… beautiful.

The gray clouds that disturb the clear skies near the village and the fog on the lower levels may be enough for other people to turn around and leave but not you.

It fills you with a sense of nostalgia, reminding you of your older sister during childhood when Charlotte asked to hear a short story about your mother.

He couldn’t bring himself to tell you kids a lot, but he went into more detail about your mother’s hobby, painting and how her work wasn’t for everyone.

Later that night, your papa would tell you how he always admires you for finding the beauty in dark and twisted things because he couldn’t always do that himself which is why your mama’s paintings are covered and collecting dust.

It’s obvious how much it still pains him to talk about her.

You were about the age of ten when you found out what happened to her and your oldest brother, Tom, was the one to tell you. You don’t think it’s a moment you’ll ever forget and only because you found out the truth.

He tucks you in while your papa was working downstairs.

“What happened to her?”

“To whom?”

You ignore his gaze. “To mama.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t respond for a few minutes. “Do you remember when I told you of the plague that started to invade our first home?”

You nod. “As much as she tried and prevented us from getting it, she wound up getting the plague herself.”

“She did?”

He nods. “But she was never alone even in the end, she was still surrounded by those she loved... now it’s time for bed.”

You realized that night how much your father has truly done for you and your family even as he was dealing with heartache; he had whisked you all away from your first home to make you all stay healthy and safe.

And, after twenty-two years, he still loves her even as his life has changed and become darker; you still do your best to cheer him up, even if it’s only temporary... Which is why you can’t give up.

She stops a few feet away from the front steps of the castle.

You dismount from Peppermint and slowly walk towards the building, wary of where you step because of the icy grass and cracks in the ground. You hope your papa didn’t fall; you swear you hear the ground cracking as you hopped off her.

Her neighs pull you out of your thoughts, Peppermint nods towards the side of the building. You turn and walk in that direction only to find a few fallen petals, putting you on high alert.

You follow the trail and find a rose smashed into the ground due to large animal like footprint. You hold the dead rose in your hands. “Oh no.” Your head snaps up after a shingle falls, cracking on the ground, your eyes shift towards one of the many roofs to find a shadow staring.

A gasp escapes you; you push yourself up and move away from the area. Glass crunches under your foot, breaking into a million little pieces; you to look down.

You bend down, wiping away the small pile of snow (which is only on this side of the castle) that covers the item and find your father’s pocket watch. You quickly put it in your pocket before looking up, finding nothing there. “It must have been my imagination.”

You tighten your grip on your beloved Peppermint’s reins and walk back around towards the, now, open entrance of the castle. “I’ll be right back.”

Her defiant neighs and stomping of her hoof stop you.

You pet her, assuring the horse that you’ll be fine and won’t be long. You furrow your brows at the sight of the slightly ajar door, but your sense of worry overtakes your common sense. Your fingertips barely brush against the creaky door as it opens further. You take careful steps inside, not wanting to fall with the poor lighting hiding the dark floor.

The door slams shut, you jump and turn at the echoing boom!

You take a second to think about what just happened. “Don’t worry. You’re inside, you’re safe.” Your mantra doesn’t ease your anxiety or heart as you continue through the castle.

A faint echoing thump piques your interest.

‘Papa?’ You run up the stairs, searching for the noise and eventually you find yourself in a dungeon.

The thumping becomes louder and clearer than it had been before the closer you get to the staircase; you rush down the spiraling staircase, keeping one hand on the wall so you don’t fall. You pause when you notice how narrow and long the walkway is.

Even with how dark it is, you can still see the cracks wherever you step, concerning you for yours and your papa’s safety.

You carefully step forward, slow enough to apply a little pressure needing to see if it's safe enough for you to walk and once you do, you grab the source of light to your right off the shelf and continue.

The gasp escapes you before you can stop it. “Papa!”

He looks so defeated and scared.

Mike calls out your name, his hands wrapping around the cell door bars, keeping him steady. “You must leave. The- the stories-”

Your eyes bounce around all over, in search of something. “Where is the key?”

“You have to leave before he finds you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not going to leave you here to suffer. You’re needed back home, and I will make sure that happens.”

He’s shocked. “But- but you have to.”

You shake your head, “I can’t. I will not lose another one of my parents. You have much more to teach the others, things I cannot.”

He softly says your name.

You don’t respond and ignore him until he says your nickname. “Belle. Belle. Stop.” He grabs your hand, holding it tight to get you to stop.

You stare at him with sad, tearful eyes and he only smiles in return. “It’s okay.” You lower your head.

A heavy thud against the last step gets you to flinch and snap your head over in that direction.

‘The shadow from outside.’ Your heart beats faster, filling you with worry and dread until it disappears.

The cell door opens, both of you are hesitant to move before you rush to pull him out.

“We are leaving,” you throw his arm over your shoulders. “We’re leaving and we’re not turning back.”

Your papa doesn’t fight you nor does he say anything as you two exit the castle.

“How do we get out?”

“I have to go back,” he mumbles.

“No,” you argue. “You are not going back to that dreaded place. It- the beast let you go. Why else would the door open?”

“He didn’t,” he shakes his head. “The beast told me if I leave, I will only have twenty-four hours to see my family again before I have to return.”

“Twen- twenty-four hours?! That’s not enough time to say goodbye.”

The conversation dwindles from there.

You two manage to make it back to your home before it gets dark.

“Rick!” You call out for your brother, “Rick!”

He runs out of the house, the tension leaving his shoulders at the sight of the two of you. He calls out for the two of you as he rushes over to help your father off Peppermint.

“Have the others returned yet?” As soon as you uttered those words, your other siblings rush out the door, calling out for your papa.

Once Rick, Charlotte, and Penny take your father inside, Tom turns to you. “What happened?”

You explain that he was out to get the things from the list you all had given him, and Peppermint was the one to return, leading you to an abandoned castle.

He raises a brow at the mention of the castle. “An abandoned castle?”

You nod, “yes. Why do you sound as if you don’t believe me?”

“I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to.”

He clears his throat, “let’s go inside and enjoy the fact that father is home.” He stops, “one more thing. Stop giving your key to that man.”

“Sam? He’s harmless.”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Yeah, well. I do. He’s nicer to me than everyone else in the village other than the librarian Adam or that buffoon Gaston when he’s trying to make Penny jealous.”

“Stop talking to him.” He walks ahead of you, leaving you to look back at the village.

Your shoulders sag, you know what you need to do.

You prepared dinner as you planned and enjoyed what you knew to be your last night at home.

Once everyone cleaned up and went to their rooms, you sneak downstairs, grabbing your coat and bag before mounting Peppermint’s saddle.

“This is the last time you’re going there. I promise.”

And you’re off.

She stops at the entrance once again.

“We need a way in.” You stop for a minute and think.

“I am... trading my papa’s place with me?” You tilt your head when the entrance opens again. You shake your head, knowing you can’t focus on it any longer.

You grip the reins as tight as you can before cracking them.

You hop off Peppermint and pet her one last time before trying to let her go. “Run home, Pep. It’s not safe for you to be here.”

She nudges her head in your hands.

You sigh, “you can’t fight with me on this.”

You can’t resist those eyes, “fine but you stay here until I can find a safe place for you.”

You slowly enter the castle, not expecting to see candles lit or there to be less cracks in the floor, maybe you should have paid more attention to your surroundings before you ran in search of your papa.

The door slams shut behind you, you jump turning around to look at who it was only to find a rocking coat rack. “Odd.”

“You returned?” The low, deep voice says as it echoes throughout the first floor. Your poor heart can only take so much more.

“Uh- yes,” you slowly respond, searching for him.

“You returned in place of your father?”

“I did. He needs to be in a place where he can be properly taken care of and continue to look after my family.” Your hand rests on the pillar, adjacent from the stairs, as you peek around the corner only to find nothing.

“The thief has a family.”

You furrow your brows, taking offense to his comment.

“He is not a thief!”

The beast jumps down a few feet behind you and shakes the ground, your arms circle the air as you try to keep your balance before turning around.

“He stole the one thing that is precious to me. He is a thief,” his voice lower and more menacing than it was earlier.

“He is not a thief! He was trying to get the one thing his youngest child asked for because he knew it would make her happy!” You shout at him, chest heaving, eyes full of fire, something he hasn’t seen in a very long time.

The beast scoffs, ignoring the nostalgia that tries to worm its way into his cold heart. “You are to have dinner with me every day.”

Your head jerks back. “What if I don’t want to?”

“You’ll have dinner with me, or you will starve.”

You furrow your brows not understanding where he thinks he has the right to control you and what you do. “I will do whatever I want to do. You are not the boss of me!”

“Fine!” He whirls around, “see if I care whether you live or die!”

And he runs up into one of the wings, no longer wanting to see you.

You can’t believe the nerve of the- the- your eyes widen. You gave attitude and talked back to the beast from the stories you’ve been told about for as long as you can remember (since you moved to the village). “I just- oh my,” you take a deep breath and try to calm yourself.

“You held yourself together. Better than I ever could,” a male voice says.

You whirl around, finding no one there. “Who said that?”

“I did.”

You look down and find a candelabra there. Your eyes widen and you fall back into the nearest chair. “I’ve lost my mind. I’ve lost it and it’s never coming back.”

“Don’t say that mademoiselle.”

“I’m saying it.”

An awkward silence fills the air.

“Maybe having dinner will take your mind off things?” He weakly offers.

“I think I need to sleep right now. I can’t- I still don’t believe everything I’ve seen today.”

“Follow me.”

You lay in bed, dressed in the night gown that was laid across the bed (after a long fight with your inner conflict about if you should or shouldn’t wear it).

It takes a long time until you can go to sleep and when you do, you dream of strange things such as a man dancing around with a woman in a ballroom.

The pillars look the same as the ones you saw in one of the main rooms earlier.

You don’t know who they are or why you’re dreaming about them or even how you remember them when you wake up. Sitting up in bed, looking around the room, you realize how stuffy it is.

You need to get out of this room and learn more about your new… place of residency.

You barely make it down the stairs to the main room you were in the night before when the candelabra interrupts your thoughts.

“Good morning, mademoiselle.”

You slowly turn, staring at the object. “Good morning,” you slowly say.

“Oh, forgive me. I never told you, my name. I am,” he spins around, “Pete, Maverick to others.”

A smile stretches across your lips, “it’s nice to meet you, Pete. I was going to do some exploring since this is where I’ll be... from now on.”

“Ah, you can visit any place here you’d like but- uh- don’t go to the west wing.”

“What’s in the west wing?”

“Nothing-”

“Lots of damage. It’s dangerous for you to explore.”

You furrow your brows at the sight of the clock. “And who are you?”

He stutters, not entirely sure if he should tell you or not.

“This is Marcus, also known as Sundown,” Pete says, introducing his friend.

“It’s nice to meet you, Marcus. Are there any more of you or is it just you two here?”

“Oh, no,” the candelabra shakes his head. “There are more of us, very few though. Most of them got away before they could be touched by the spell.”

“How many of you are there?”

“Too many to count.”

You fall back into the nearest chair when the tea cart bumps into your side.

“Oh, sorry dear. The young prince isn’t so good with directions,” the tea pot tells you as she offers you a kind and welcoming smile.

“Yes, yes. Sorry, miss,” the second teacup apologizes.

“It’s alright,” you smile back at him.

“You must need something to warm you right up and I know just the thing.” A cup of tea comes towards you.

“Be careful, Chip.”

“Yes, mother.” He turns back to you, “hello there.”

“He- hello. I take it you’re Chip?”

“Yes, miss.”

“Should I be drinking from him?” You turn to the tea pot. “It doesn’t seem right.”

“It’s alright,” she assures you. “It won’t hurt him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Okay,” you take a sip and pull back when a bubble pops.

“Chip! How many times have I told you not to do that?”

“Sorry, mother.”

“Oh no. It’s okay, he’s having fun.”

“Don’t encourage the two. They’re handfuls already,” she jokes.

A coatrack hops closer to your small group.

“And that,” Pete begins. “Is our favorite of us all, the ever so silent, Leonard also known as Wolfman.”

“I take it he talked a lot?” You ask.

“Yep, you could never get him to shut up.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Leonard.”

He waves a wooden post in return.

“Sorry about them dear. Oh, I almost forgot, I’m Mrs. Potts and the boy blowing bubbles is my son Chip and this one behind me is the young prince, Bradley.”

“It’s very nice to meet you all.”

“You’re pretty,” Bradley gushes before hiding behind Mrs. Potts.

“Thank you, Bradley,” you offer a gentle smile. “And you are a handsome young boy.”

“You don’t know what I look like.”

“You have a kind personality, that makes you extra handsome,” you whisper as if it’s a secret the others shouldn’t be hearing.

He giggles and spins around the other boy.

None of you knew but the beast formerly known as King Nick (Nicholas Bradshaw the II) was in his secret passageway, listening and watching over his boy as he had begun to do after the passing of Queen Carole but more so when the curse was placed on the kingdom.

Part of him wonders if you’ll be the one to break the spell while the other part wants nothing to do with you to spare him from any future heartache.

Maybe tonight he’ll eat dinner with you, apologize for his behavior.

He shakes his head, “no, no. She is not the one. She-”

An earthquake shakes the building, small debris falls from the ceiling.

He runs through the walls, not caring if he makes any noise.

He takes careful, steady steps into the room not wanting his heavy footsteps to cause another petal to fall. He sighs at the small, broken rose.

Once the shaking stops, you glance around the room.

“What was that?” The older woman sighs.

“Another petal has fallen,” Marcus chimes in.

“What- what does that mean?”

“If the last petal falls, the curse takes place and we all become objects while my father remains a beast,” Bradley answers you.

“You’re all cursed?” Your voice comes out as a whisper.

“Sadly, yes,” the tea pot informs you.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, dear.”

“How did-” You glance back at the two boys and decide not to ask now, you don’t want to bring up any bad memories. “When did it happen?”

“We’ve lost count over the years that have passed,” Pete tells you.

“Oh.”

“That’s enough of that,” the clock interrupts. “I think it’s time for lunch.”

“Okay. Am I going to get another dance number with all the utensils and plates?”

“You never know, mademoiselle.”

You narrow your eyes at Pete.

A few days later…

The others have things to do, and you’re left alone so you take this opportunity to venture around the castle. Nothing fun or very interesting in, what you assume, and hope is the north wing. Same thing with what you do know as the east wing (the sign was helpful).

You take careful steps as you walk into this wing since it’s more run down than any others you’ve seen so far. Your head snaps to the left, eyebrows knit together when you see nothing there.

Maybe it was nothing.

You continue and slowly open the creaky door, silently groaning to yourself as the creak echoes.

Once the door is open wide enough you walk further into the room, eyes catching the sight of the not dead rose trapped in a glass confinement.

You tilt your head trying to figure out why because the rose should be dead along with the fallen petals.

Nick’s shoulders sag as he walks up the steps, so much for taking a nap.

This time though, he woke with less heartache than the night before.

He knows he’ll never be able to forget her, his beloved wife, Carole.

She was his everything and always up for an adventure, which coincidentally is how the two found each other in the first place.

If only they had taken precautions and checked to make sure there were no bees.

They knew her family had a history of being allergic to bees, but she was lucky enough to have never come across any… until the search for the most majestic deer anyone could see came about.

Sometimes he wishes he never wanted to try and hunt the creature but then he comes to the realization that there was nothing he could do.

He shakes his head to forget his cries for her and how Bradley would never see her again.

His large body walks through the door without noticing the door was already open, not until he lifts his head to see you staring at the glass with a confused expression, he can’t focus on that for long as his nerves and heartbreak take over.

“No! Don’t touch it!” Nick rushes over towards it. “You were told to stay away from the west wing!” He growls at you, spit leaving his mouth landing on your cheeks and forehead. He takes a step closer, “you could have ruined everything! Ruined my chance to save my son!”

You step back. “I’m- I’m sorry- I-”

He stops moving and lets out everything he was feeling in that moment, what he felt when he lost Carole, when he was turned into this- damned thing, and what (he thinks) it would feel like to lose his boy.

A deep growl comes from the back of his throat. The vibration of the powerful noise is more than enough to cause the room to shake, the slashed painting on the wall rattles behind you, terrifying you to your core.

You don’t wait until he’s finished before running out of the room, down the stairs, and out the doors.

None of the cursed servants and prince can stop you even as they call out for you... not even the youngest of them all.

You hope you're close to the end of this hellish nightmare as you begin to slow your pace, unable to sprint anymore.

You’ve exerted too much of your energy to keep going and force yourself to slow down taking deep breaths as you stand hunched over with your hands on your knees.

Growling comes from your left; your head snaps up.

Your eyes widen at the wolf, and you begin to think. ‘I could outrun a wolf… can’t I? How fast are they?’

Until four more stand beside it.

You blink away your tears, taking slow steps backwards.

Maybe if you moved slowly and cautiously away from them, they wouldn’t see you as a threat, although you know better; the illogical part of you can’t help but take over during this time.

A flash tosses one of the wolves away.

You shout out, “behind you!”

As a wolf lunges at the beast, you were so terrified of before you ran out here and grab a stick, doing your best to quickly shove it off him.

All the wolves leave before the beast could harm another.

You don’t know if you should try and help him not… even if he is technically the reason you left.

“Are you going to help me?” He grumbles under his breath, and you just- you want to smack him.

A heavy sigh comes through your nose before you can stop it.

“Oh, and now she’s mad.”

You scoff through your nose.

“A thank you would be nice.”

“I wouldn’t have been out here or almost died if it wasn’t for you.”

“Ungrateful.”

“Ungrate-” You stand in front of him, one hand resting on his chest while the other latches onto his arm. “You are in no condition to walk back on your own.”

“Oh, am I not?”

You narrow your eyes to him. “And what do you suppose we do? I don’t think either of us have much of an option, right now.”

A familiar neigh stops you before you could answer him. “Perfect timing as always, Pep.” You turn back to the slumping lump of a beast.

“Now, get on.”

“I’ll crush it.”

“You won’t. She can handle it. It’s either this or you die in a blizzard... which won’t happen.”

“Why not?” He asks, lying on the back of your beloved horse with his chest on the saddle.

“I won’t be the one to tell your son his father died because of his pride.”

No other words were exchanged between the two of you that night or the following two nights as he rested.

While you comfort the young prince, your second oldest sister, Penny asks your brothers and father if she could ask Gaston for help, to which they denied her.

None of them wanted to deal with the man whose ego is so big, he can’t walk straight (they make jokes about how he always manages to walk into a mirror, even though that happened one time when he still ate three dozen eggs).

She clicks her tongue in disappointment, stopping her foot for extra flair.

“Penny,” Tom starts. “We don’t need to involve that idiot; he’s done nothing but try to ruin us. Why would we start to give into him and his demands now?”

“He is good. He will help is. He told me so himself.”

“And you truly believe him? Even after he told people of rumors about you.”

“That wasn’t him.”

“Well, it certainly wasn’t the old man that did it,” he looks off into the direction of Sam.

She stomps her foot and walks away, slamming the door to her shared room.

“Nice,” Rick comments with sarcasm.

“I didn’t see you jumping in there to help me.”

“I thought you had it handled.”

“If I had it handled our sister wouldn’t be out there with that- that beast!”

Rick takes a step back, looking at Tom, trying to get a read on him and it’s clear that he feels like it’s his fault even though none of them had control over this situation. “None of us could have ever known that this is what fathers' trip would lead to.”

“I should have known. I’m the oldest, I look out for us. I told him he didn’t need to take this trip.”

“You didn’t?”

“No.” He shakes his head, “but he was sure he did, and it made sense why he thought so.”

“Why?”

“Penny and Charlotte were out of dresses.”

Rick smacks his brother's arm, understanding that his only way to deal with this is through humor, even if it's only temporary. “What do you plan to do?”

“I’m not involving that imbecile, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, but haven’t you heard his story about how he ate three dozen eggs to help him get large and after started to go for four dozen once he was large.”

Tom narrows his eye at his younger brother, “you know I do and that’s exactly why.”

You gently wipe away the blood. “You can go to sleep you know. No one is going to hurt you.”

“I know no one would hurt me.”

“Someone’s cocky,” you mumble.

“What was that?”

You shake your head. “Nothing.”

He hisses and tries to pull his hand away.

“Hold still. I’m almost done and then you can rest some more.”

The others watch as you take care of him, wondering what’s changed for the cold-hearted king to be so… kind to you after everything that’s happened.

You place the wet rag back into the bowl, placing it on the table beside his bed. “I’m going to put this on your wounds.” You lift the bottle Sam gave you a few days earlier.

“What is it?”

“A gift from a friend.”

“And how do I know you’re not actually trying to poison me?”

“If I was, you would know and why would my friend try to poison me?”

“I don’t know.”

“That wasn’t a very good question to ask.”

He doesn’t say anything and grumbles under his breath, low enough for you to not hear what he says.

“You’re not going to complain or anything as long as you want someone to take care of yo-our wounds.” You cringe at the thought of saying “take care of you”.

You barely know him and already find yourself enamored with him.

Oh no.

He doesn’t say much else and moves when you tell him to.

“Now, that your wounds are taken care of. I’ll see myself out. Get more rest.” You rush out before he can try and argue with you.

The others follow in your footsteps, leaving their king and prince alone.

“Papa?”

“Yes, Bradley?”

“Do you think she will be the one to break the spell?”

Nick doesn’t turn to look at his son. How can he answer a question like that when he doesn’t know himself? How can he move on from Carole?

She was the love of his life.

Maybe that’s why he can’t.

He feels that if he does then he and Bradley will forget her and he could never bring himself to do that, even if he does struggle to talk about her.

“She’s a very nice person.”

Nick hums, faintly listening to his boy as he goes on about her family and the sacrifices they’ve made. He furrows his brows, “what do you mean?”

“About what?”

“The sacrifices her family has made. What do you mean by that?”

“Oh. She told me when she was a baby, her mama got sick, and her family had to leave making her papa sad. And her big brother has been working hard to make sure they can all buy things they need while her sisters search for husbands and her other brother stays to help her papa with his creations.”

“And what of her?”

“She can’t leave her family alone. They need someone to look after them.”

“Who takes care of her?”

The boy furrows his painted brows. “I don’t know.”

That’s why you chose to trade your life for his.

Nick holds back a groan thinking back to the number of times he called your father a thief. “When did you find this out?”

“Not long ago.” Nick imagines, if his boy was human again, he would have shrugged.

The boy yawns for the third time today.

It’s as though time is running out faster than he would have hoped for.

The two Bradshaw’s fall asleep, one dreaming of a time when he could have fun without worrying about breaking into pieces; the other, he dreams of dancing with the one he is to call his wife.

You, more or less, have the same dream although this one turns into a nightmare with two women dying.

You push yourself up, no longer feeling the need to sleep. You couldn’t tell who either of the women were at first.

But the more you think about it, you slowly begin to see who it is.

As you sit in bed, analyzing all that you dreamed of, you knew one was your darling mother while the other was Bradley’s mother, the beast’s first love. You still cannot wrap your mind around the fact that you keep dreaming of her.

Maybe sitting in front of the fire would help you fall back asleep.

You take the blanket off your bed and wrap it around your shoulders as you tiptoe out of your room and down the stairs until you make it to the main room.

The fireplace is already going by the time you sit in the chair.

You let your mind wander, curious as to what your family is doing.

Hardly anyone sleeps soundly in your family’s home anymore as they continue to work on a plan to bring you home.

“Why can’t we leave and try to find it?” Charlotte asks.

“Because, as I’ve said before, Char. We don’t know where it is. How many times do I have to tell you that,” Tom tells her.

“I don’t know, I didn’t hear you. Tell me again.”

Mike does his best to clear the tension between your siblings.

“Enough.”

They don’t stop, it’s like they don’t even hear him and continue to bicker at one another.

“Enough!”

They turn towards him, giving him their full attention.

“You two are adults and will act like it because you are not the only ones scared for the safety of your sister.”

They lower their heads, muttering apologies.

“We need to focus on figuring out where that damned castle is so we can bring Belle, home.”

Rick doesn’t want to ask but knows if he doesn’t, no one will. “Do you remember where it is? You said it was surrounded by the forest; how did you manage to make it through?”

“I,” your papa pauses, thinking back. “I just- there was an opening.”

“Where?”

“There was- there was just an opening.”

“We need to know where she went, we need to know how to find our sister.”

“I understand that. I know better than anyone how it is to miss someone but there wasn’t anything significant that could help us.”

“What if we talk to Gaston?”

The three men turn towards Penny.

“He might be able to help.”

“We’re not going the idiot so he can flex his muscles,” Tom explains to her.

She rolls her eyes, “he wouldn’t do that.”

“He does it all the time and it’s annoying because you get distracted and that’s not gonna help us.”

She huffs, “do you want to find her or not?”

“Of course, we do but we’re going to do it without him.”

“Have any of you told anyone anything about Belle’s current... predicament?” Rick asks. He remembers the weird looks the people in town were giving him earlier that day.

“Why do you ask?” Charlotte chimes in.

“You don’t want her to talk to Gaston about this but, I felt eyes on me as I walked through town earlier.”

“But you always have eyes on you. We all do,” Tom argues.

“I know, I know.” Rick starts, “it just- it felt like there were more eyes on me today and I feel like people are noticing that she isn’t home. I think they’re starting to talk about it.”

“Ignore anything they say. We’re bringing her home no matter what it takes, you got it?” Tom gives his siblings a stern look.

They nod, not giving him a verbal response.

Sometimes it’s better to go along with what Tom tells em rather than try and argue with him. “It’s too late for us to go out tonight but first thing when we wake up, we’re searching for her.”

Your papa and younger brother nod.

“We’ll stay here in case she comes back,” Charlotte adds.

It was agreed that this was the plan and if they couldn’t find you tomorrow- they’re not thinking about that because they won’t stop.

They’ll keep going until they can’t any longer.

You wake up to find yourself in the bed that’s been deemed as yours. You furrow your brows, knowing for a fact that you did leave this room at some point.

Part of you wonders if it was a dream or if the beast carried you back here.

You find a book on the nightstand and fight the urge to smile before dismissing the thought, not being able to imagine him doing something so kind… even if you did recently help him with his wounds.

You get dressed and don’t plan on asking him if he did or not, it’d be easier to forget your crazy thought than try and dig for information.

You don’t find anyone in the hallway or near the stairs, other than the echoing putter patter of what you assume to be the hunting dogs, remembering the brief description of how Bradley’s mother passed.

You feel for the boy, knowing how he feels especially since it happened when he was so young and why… Nick acts the way he does.

You consider yourself lucky since your papa never lashed out at any of you. You know what you’re going to do today.

You walk along the lower hallways, stopping when you spot a familiar tall figure speaking to his son.

You find yourself standing beside the doorway, unsure if you should leave or not, knowing that the floorboards would creak underneath you.

“She is a nice person.”

“So, I’ve heard,” his father mutters before setting his son down onto the table so he can search for another book. “You should smile at her.”

“Why would I do that, Brad?”

“She doesn’t have many friends and I know you would like her.”

“I don’t think anyone could befriend a beast,” he mutters under his breath. “That sounds like an interesting idea.”

“She likes to read.”

“Does she now?” He asks as if he doesn’t already know.

If the boy was human, he’d be nodding. “Yep! And she’s read a lot of the books we have here.”

“Oh.”

“I think she’d like to visit our library.”

“Interesting.”

“Her favorite is also yours.”

“Really?”

“I think she’s a good person to talk to… she would understand why you’re angry if you told her more about mama.”

Nick spins around, “what do you mean? Did you tell her of your mother?”

“Only after she told me how her mama died a few months after she was born. Her papa doesn’t talk about her.”

He sighs. “I don’t want to burden anyone else with knowing about your mother.”

“She would be happy to listen. She smiles every time I talk about her.”

“And how many times has that been?”

The boy doesn’t respond for a few seconds, trying to figure something out. “Twice.”

“And she was nice enough to take the time to listen to your ramblings?”

The teacup jumps up in happiness. “She did. She only got sad when she told me how no one from her family can speak of her without getting sad or not wanting to speak of her at all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Tell her.”

“I’m with him.” Pete pops up out of nowhere.

Nick purses his lips, not liking when the two agree (ever, it never turns out well). “I can’t just tell her. She won’t understand and I- I wouldn’t be able to explain it to her.”

“Then take the time to explain it to her,” Pete adds with a “duh” tone.

“I’m not doing that. She doesn’t like me and I’ve- I’ve grown to accept that.”

“But-”

“Enough Bradley, it’s time for your lessons with Miss Potts and Chip.”

“He’s not wrong, you know.”

“Can it, Mav. It’s not happening.”

“But she still has it.”

“No. No one else has that loving feeling but-”

“You know it’s okay to open up your heart. She would want you to be happy, that’s all she ever wanted.”

“How can I be happy when it feels like I’m betraying her?”

“That just proves you loved her with all that you could.”

“So, that means I have nothing left to give?”

“N- No, I meant that you loved Carole with all that you could. Now, you have a chance to prove to yourself that you’re not the grumpy old man you pretend to be.”

“I’m not a grumpy old man,” Nick mumbles.

“Oh, you’re right. You’re an angry old man who pretends his heart is ice-cold and black, like he’s not worthy of finding someone new to love.”

“I’m done with this conversation.”

“Only because you know I’m right.”

Nick walks out of the room before he grabs his friend and throws him out a window (again). He huffs, debating on walking through the walls today.

‘Maybe I should try and show her kindness? Perhaps the book isn’t enough.’

He walks down the hallway, his ears twitching when Miss Potts' voice echoes through the hallway.

He steps closer, hiding behind the door, watching as the older woman talks to the kids and you.

“I wish I could help more around here. I feel like I’m not doing much.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that deary,” Miss Potts assures her.

“I can’t. At home… at my family’s home we would always be doing some kind of chore especially since our papa is getting older and can’t do a lot without getting hurt and prefers to be working on clocks as well as any other item that need to be fixed,” you smile, thinking about it.

“I hope they’re all okay.”

“I’m sure they are,” Miss Potts tries her best to reassure you.

You shrug, “perhaps.” You push yourself out of the chair. “Excuse me, you two have lessons you should be doing.”

You exit the room in search of something else to do.

The tall beast managed to scurry away before you could get closer.

Nick watches from a distance, realizing how sad you must be... away from your family. He knows what he needs to do.

You stand in the very same ballroom that continues to haunt your dreams. You hadn’t the faintest idea who the woman is in your dreams, and it makes you sad when you think about it because after learning about how Bradley’s mother passed, you believe it’s her.

You just- you don’t know why she’s haunting you in your dreams. You take a second and close your eyes, thinking back to when you would dance with your brothers and sisters.

It was a happy time; none of you had nearly as many responsibilities as you do now.

“What are you doing?”

You flinch, not expecting anyone else to be here. “Uh,” you spin around, staring at him. “Nothing?”

Nick raises a brow, “it didn’t look like nothing.”

“I was- uh- just- uh-”

He continues to stare at you, waiting for your response.

“I was… just remembering when my siblings taught me how to dance.”

“Oh.”

“We always dreamed of being grownups and dancing in such a magnificent ballroom, you know, like yours.”

“Would you…” His words become quieter making it harder for you to hear. “I was wondering if you- if you wanted to dance?”

He hasn’t been this nervous to ask someone to dance in a long time.

Maybe it was a good thing.

Your lips form into an “O” shape. “Or not, I get it-” “I would love to.”

With the way you two stare at one another, it’s clear to see how surprised both of you are.

“Tonight?” “After dinner?” You two ask at the same time, chuckling at one another’s response.

“After dinner,” you nod.

“I’ll see you then.”

You run in the direction of your room, needing to change into something more suitable for dancing.

Dinner was wonderful as always but this one seemed to be more special than any previous meals.

You slowly walk down the staircase, seeing Nick across the way. A small smile gracing your lips, your heart races at the thought of dancing with him.

It scares you, how excited you are to dance with someone who wreaked havoc into your life.

He holds his hand out, waiting for you to come down the last few steps.

You slowly place your hand into his much larger paw, guiding you down the final staircase.

He carefully steps forward, not wanting to overstep his boundaries or startle you.

You step forward, leaving the proper amount of distance between you two.

He leads, taking a step forward, you take one backwards, continuing this until he changes things and spins you around.

You’re free as you continue dancing with him, not thinking of anything else other than the fact that you’re enjoying yourself at this moment, more than you have in a long time.

Once it’s over he invites you to his library, the one place Pete and Bradley were nice enough to show you the other day.

Part of you wished you could have read something with him…

‘Maybe another time.’

“I have something I want to show you.”

You follow him without saying another word, curiosity overpowering any other thought you have.

“The one who cursed me gave me this, along with a few other things as you know.”

You reach out to touch the book but pull away before you could. “What does it do?”

“It’s a cruel joke.”

“Why?”

“It was designed to take me anywhere in the world, show the world of the beast that I am.”

“And you chose to show me, why?”

“I think it’s time I- I show you I can be the person they tell you I am.”

“And who is that?”

“Someone who can brighten someone’s mood when they’re upset.”

You smile to yourself, maybe you haven’t given him the benefit of the doubt.

Yet again, all you’ve ever come to know with him is his anger, you haven’t been given much of an opportunity to see any other side of him.

“Where to?”

You whisper, your family’s old home. Where you lived when you were only a few months old.

You look around, a sad expression on your face as you see the unfinished work, unmade bed, and the closed trunk off to the side.

“Oh, Paris? Interesting choice,” Nick comments, not paying all that much attention to you. “Should we go see the Ei-” He turns around. “What’s wrong?”

You wipe your cheek. “It’s- I- this was my home when I was- uh- when I was younger. This was the last place I ever saw my mama.”

“Why is that?”

You can’t find it in you to answer him as you find a special rose pen that you know belonged to her.

“This is a doctors mask.”

You nod, gulping down whatever spit had built up in your mouth, although you know what happened to her that doesn’t stop you from answering any questions he may have. “She was sick, and we had to leave. We- we couldn’t stay here.”

You wipe the corner of your eye. “I never knew what our first home looked like. I wanted to see the last place she was in before she passed. But I-” You take a deep breath.

“I understand. We can return, if you’d like.”

You nod, “please.”

You two return to the castle.

“I need to- I need-”

“You need to what?”

You spin around, looking at him. “I need to- to- to see my family.”

“What?” He whispers.

“I need to see my family. I- I need to see if they’re alright. I haven’t been able to see them in a long time. I’m worried about them. Please, if… if there is any compassion left in you, let me go see my family just- just this once and I will never ask you for anything again.”

He doesn’t respond nor does he make any movement.

“I- no- forget it, forget I said anything.”

He opens a drawer and pulls out a mirror. “Use this.”

“What?”

“If you wish it, you may see your family.”

“I- how does this work?”

“Another gift.”

You lift the mirror, “I wish to see my family,” you whisper.

An image of your family arguing with Gaston concerns you, more so when it pans on the man forcing your family in the back of a familiar wagon.

“No. No. No,” you mutter. “What is it?”

Nick comes to stand beside you, seeing the traumatizing scene. He knows what needs to happen, deep down, he would do the same if the tables were turned. “You need to go.”

“What?”

“You need to go help your family.”

“But I-”

He shakes his head, “it’s okay. I understand.”

“I will-”

“Don’t- don’t say anything. Your horse is going to get waiting outside.”

“I- I can’t thank you enough.” You bunch up the skirt of your dress in your hands, keeping hold of the mirror.

“Go.”

Your eyes fill with tears because of your family’s current predicament and the fact that you have to leave him.

“Thank you.” You don’t look back as you run down the hallway or down the stairs or out the doors, only when Peppermint is close to the broken forest entrance do you and it breaks your heart to watch the sad beast man hang off one of the roofs.

It reminds you of the first time you saw him.

“Faster, Peppermint,” you crack the reins.

“I was the one who had it all,” he mumbles when your figure gets further away from the castle.

He slumps down, mindlessly wandering through the castle.

“Father?”

He turns, placing one paw on the staircase railing. “Bradley?”

“Where is she going?”

“To her family.” He returns to his previous task and continues up the stairs.

“You let her go?” Pete asks, unsure if he could believe it.

“He loves her too much to keep her when she’s clearly needed elsewhere,” Miss Potts adds.

“Oh.”

“Are we ever going to become human?” Chip asks.

“I don’t know, Chip,” she responds.

You keep your attention focused in front of you.

You don't know how much further you have to go but you know that you're close, you can sense your family is near as Peppermint gallops closer towards the entrance of the village.

As soon as she makes it through the entrance of the village, you immediately hear the cries for help from your family members and the angry comments coming from the villagers (who never liked you or your family ever since you arrived).

When Peppermint swerves around the wagon you immediately hop off with no sense of the possibility of accidentally injuring yourself.

Your only concern is your family’s safety.

You swirl around to face Gaston with an expression of rage clear on your face.

He immediately ignores it, of course.

“I command that you let my family go,” you say angrily as you stare into his cold eyes.

“They've done nothing wrong. Why must you do this to us we've done nothing wrong to you or anyone else. My sister has cared for you for all this time, and you treat her like this? Have you no compassion?”

He lets out an airy chuckle, one that makes you uncomfortable. Of course, he does; he's never taken a woman seriously a day in his life and why would he start now.

His uncaring attitude earns chuckles from a few of the villagers behind you, but you don't pay attention to them. “Why would I listen to a woman like you or your sister?” He grins at you, it’s the kind to send a shiver down your spine, dare you say it appears to be a sinister smirk.

The more he talks the more it annoys you and feeds into your anger, but you stop and think, realizing you can't let this anger get the best of you because if you do, you may lose your family forever, and you will not let it happen.

“Why is it that you’ve locked up my family?” You ask him, thinking it’d be best to ask him straightforwardly instead of waiting for when he’ll throw you into the wagon, leaving you to rot with your family.

You can’t let this happen; you have to return to the one… you hold dear to you. Your heart aches, you have much more to lose than just your family here. Again, he chuckles, now it’s not nearly as evil as the first one and yet it still sends a shiver down your spine.

“You know,” he starts off, “your father- he- uh- he seems to have lost his mind. Why you ask? Well,” he pauses clearly trying to come up with a lie for the villagers to believe.

As much as you hate to admit it, the villagers would probably believe anything he says because he's a war hero, meaning they respect him too much to disagree.

Or maybe because they fear for their safety and their lives since they know what he’s capable of.

“You see,” he begins again. “Mike has begun to say some strange things which raises alarm about his mind.” He fakes sympathy when he says, “we fear for the safety of you and your family.”

You know he's lying, but how can you prove it when none of the villagers have ever liked you?

Is that why he’s saying these things because he knows none of them will believe you if you try to tell the truth?

Why would they believe you when you say it is Gaston who has lost his mind and not your papa?

You gulp down whatever saliva has built up in your mouth, your hands are sweaty, leaving marks on the mirror as you tighten your grip. “Why- why do you think my father has lost his mind?” You weakly ask, having a feeling about what he's going to say.

“Well, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it?” Gaston starts with a knowing tone and a supercilious stance.

You hate it.

He slaps his hand on the wagon door, alarming your family.

They all look up through the tiny window to see you there with no wounds and not looking as if death is waiting for you (as few have thought a few times since you’ve been gone).

Their concerning expressions slowly diminish at the site of you and soon their brows furrow, you know it's because of the way you're dressed and the fact that you're not dead because of some beast that your father had seen.

They slowly begin to believe him more now.

You immediately rushed towards the wagon; your hands touched the wood door as if you were trying to touch your family members themselves.

You wonder if it would be wise to try and break the lock now but know that if you do then something bad will happen. And you don’t know if the villagers will try to remove you from them or if Gaston will order something else to occur; the thought of any of it happening scares you.

‘Maybe,’ you think. ‘Maybe it would be wise to “listen” to what he has to say and play along with his games until it’s over.’

You lean in whispering, “I will get you out of here, you will be free, and we will be together, but I need you to trust me. Can you do that?”

Tom and Rick glance at one another, they have some idea as to what you may ask of them, but it still raises alarms in their heads.

Maybe it would have been best for you to not ask them for help but what else can you do in this dire situation?

You turned to see your sister’s nod knowing that they’ll follow orders to get out and regain their freedom.

Poor Penny is crying along with Charlotte but the second oldest of the two is more heartbroken than any of you... which, of course, makes sense since she believed that she was in love with Gaston, and he returned those feelings. It pains her to think that he used her.

As much as she wishes to weep, she knows she cannot at this time.

She pushes all her thoughts about him aside, knowing that she needs to be focused so she can listen to what you have to say and help the rest of them get out.

For once, neither of your brothers nor your Papa say anything as you whisper to them a foolproof plan.

The man who can eat far too many eggs (for your comfort), pulls you back and away from your family, you jerk your arm within his grasp trying to get away from him.

As you struggle to remove yourself from him, he manages to grab the one thing that you brought with you from the castle.

When you see what he has in his hands, you gasp.

He’s going to figure out how to use it and show everyone the beast Nick.

You can’t let it happen, they can’t see him; if they do, they’re only going to want to hurt him, and you won’t- you don’t know if you’d survive that. You reach for it only for the irksome man to raise his arm, keeping it away from being within your reach.

“Give it back to me, Gaston. It’s not yours.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s yours either.”

“It is- give it back.”

“No.” He lowers his hand, inspecting it himself. “How do you use it?”

“I’m not going to tell you that.”

“It’ll save you and your family.”

“No.”

“You don’t care about their safety? Some daughter slash sister, you are.”

You groan, reaching for it again. “I need it. Give it to me.”

The same smirk he gave you hasn’t left his face once since you arrived, it only became worse as time went on, just like now. “Show me the beast.”

An image of the sad beast pops up.

“Look,” he spins it around, showing the others.

“Look at his fangs. Those horns. His claws. He will kill us all if we don’t do something about it first.”

“NO!” You cry out.

“Kill the beast!”

“Stop it!”

Gaston grabs your arm. “Le Fou, open the door.”

He does as the larger man tells him to.

“Stop- don’t listen- please,” you struggle to fight his grasp. “Let me go! You’re making a mistake. He is kind and- and he has a family. He wouldn’t harm any of you unless provoked.”

The man scoffs, “you’ve fallen for such a hideous beast. Have you no shame.” He snickers, glancing over at your sisters. “Good thing I didn’t bring myself down to your level and marry one of your sisters. I would die if I was intertwined with such nonsense.”

As soon as you're tossed inside, the door closes, you slam your hands onto the door, not caring about getting a splinter. “Let me out! Let me out! He’s not the beast you think he is!”

“Belle.” “Belle.” Your family calls out for you, pulling you away from the door.

“I think there are a few other things we need to worry about.” Mike holds you in his arms. “Breath, sweetheart. I need you to take deep breaths so we can help you. We can’t understand you, if all you do is scream and plead.”

“He is not who you think he is. He is a kind man who had been upset for a long time and if I don’t get back, they’ll- they’ll-” You wipe away your tears and reach into the corset of your dress, pulling out a small rod. “Use this to pick the lock.”

He gives you an impressive look. “I knew I taught you well.”

“Hurry up,” your brothers say to him.

He shrugs them off and continues to pick at the lock.

Once it clicks open, it falls to the ground.

He pushes the door open, purposefully bumping into the man that Gaston assigned to stand guard.

Your brothers push themselves out and grab the man, forcing him inside.

“Grab the lock,” Tom tells Charlotte.

She grabs it and quickly clicks it into place.

“Not all of us are going to be able to get to the castle on your horse,” says Rick.

“Not all of us have to go.”

“But-”

Numerous neighs disrupt your minor argument.

“Looks like we won’t need to worry,” Penny comments. “Come on.”

“No,” Mike pushes you towards your horse. “You go. We’ll be right behind you.”

“What?”

“I can see it, you know.”

“See what?”

“Your eyes, she had those eyes from the moment we meant up until the very end. You’ve found love within him. You can save him, but you must be quick.”

You crack the reins and take off.

“Please take care of him,” you hear as you pass through the entrance.

You know its late wife calling out to you.

There’s no other reason for her to be doing this, if she didn’t want her family to be happy and the least you could do is respect her wishes.

“I promise,” you whisper.

You arrive at the sound of angry shouts and echoing gunshots.

You look up and find it’s the beast Nick to be the target. “No,” you mumble and run up the stairs.

The cries of a young boy follow behind you, you turn to find the young prince flying, catching him before anything bad could happen to him. “Bradley. What were you doing?”

“I’m defending my home.”

“You can’t be doing things as dangerous as that. What would-”

Another echo.

Your head snaps in the direction of the forbidden west wing. You tighten your grip on the boy and run. “Gaston! Stop this!”

Nick’s head snaps in your direction, he whispers your name before pushing himself back to jump in your direction.

He grabs one of your hands, being careful not to do anything too fast to harm his son. “You returned,” he mumbles, face full of shock and awe.

You nod. “I did.”

He grunts, falling to his knees.

Your head turns to see the smug smirk hanging from his lips.

“Stop,” You place Bradley on the ground before putting yourself between the hunter and Nick.

“What are you doing?”

“I will not let you die at the hands of this man.”

Gaston throws his head back and lets out a hearty, belly aching laugh. “You’re protecting this- this beast but not those of your kind?”

“He has been kinder than you ever have!”

“I doubt that. Now, move out of the way and let me kill my latest prey so I can-” the bridge beneath him begins to crack but he pays no attention to it. “Finish him off and hang his head on my wall.”

Just as his finger touches the trigger, the bridge gives out beneath him; he couldn’t run away if he tried to.

Your eyes widen, not looking down too frightened to see him lay dead on the ground.

Although his personality was brutish and vile, it is still a human being that died today.

You spin around, checking on him.

“You're bleeding too much. We must get you medical attention.”

“I don’t- it’s time.”

“No,” you shake your head, in denial. “We can get you help and-”

He grabs your hand. “I don’t have much time now. I can feel myself slipping away.”

“N- no, you don’t- you don’t feel it. Don’t say that. What about- oh, Bradley,” you lift the teacup carefully before placing him on Nick’s abdomen.

“Bradley.”

“What about the curse?”

“It’s too,” he closes his eyes, letting out a deep and slow exhale. “We’re out of time.”

“But she can-”

“No.”

Sam walks up the stairs, not giving anyone a second glance.

He knows exactly where to go and what’s happened between the two of you, but his curse is in place and it’s up to you now to break it.

The ground shakes violently as the last petal falls.

More than half the staff have become a stiffened furniture version of who they used to be, Pete, Marcus, and Leonard were the last ones.

Leonard waves one last time before rocking side to side as he takes his final form.

Pete turns to Marcus, prepared to make a final speech but can’t find it in him to do so.

“Until we meet again,” he whispers, to the antique clock.

Nick and you begin sobbing as Bradley’s face is wiped away and he looks like a real, non-living teacup.

“Please don’t leave me,” you whisper, holding his cheek, wiping away his tears.

“Could you- could you ever find it in you to love a beast like me?”

You sniffle, “I can’t.”

“I... see.”

The life drains from his eyes after hearing those words.

You gasp, covering your mouth.

The last words he will ever hear from you are a lie.

“I already do,” you whisper as tears trickle down your cheeks, landing on one of the few blood stains of his shirt.

You continue to weep onto him until your family arrives and pulls you away. You lean onto your father and wet his shoulder with your love and grief-stricken tears.

You can’t help but think, had Gaston moved his arm a few inches to the left, he would have killed Nick instantly, forbidding you from having those last few seconds with him.

A gasp is all that enters your ears before your sisters tug on the sleeves of your dress.

“Stop tugging on-” Tom stops talking at the interesting sight.

“Tom, what- holy sh-” Rick stops when he sees what his siblings see.

“Belle,” it whispers.

“No,” you shake your head.

“The curse is fooling me,” you mutter.

“Darling, you need to look up.”

You open your eyes, glancing at your father.

He gestures for you to turn towards where the love of your life lays, dead.

You do as everyone wants you to and your jaw drops. “No.”

“It’s me.”

“No.” He whispers your name. “You’re not real.” He takes a step forward, his hand cupping your cheek.

“You saved me.”

“No- I- I didn’t.”

“You did. You saved us.”

A light tug on the skirt of your dress alerts you. You look down and find a young boy standing there. Your eyes water as you bend down, standing on your knees. “Bradley?”

He nods, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “Oh my- you- your both-” He can’t hold himself back and launches himself into your arms.

You gasp and let out an airy chuckle as you squeeze the boy.

The king kneels on one knee beside you two, petting the back of his son's head. His eyes focused on nothing but the two of you.

You lean over and let yourself fall into his embrace with Bradley since he won’t let go. “You’re here.”

“I am,” he mumbles into your hair. “We need to get up though. I need to see if everyone is all right.”

Tom and Rick help you get up, giving Bradley the ability to maneuver himself tighter onto you.

You all walk downstairs to see everyone hugging. “What happened?”

“The warlock who cursed us, erased us from the villagers' minds.”

“Oh.”

“Shouldn’t he be clinging to you instead of me?”

The man only grins in return. “He likes you.”

You narrow your eyes to him. “Don’t make him sound like a dog.”

A fake beast-like growl comes from his chest. “I’m not. I’d never do that to my boy.”

“Okay.”

He searches for someone in the crowd in front of the castle.

“Goose!”

“Mav!”

The two men run towards one another, hugging each other tightly.

Rick leans down to whisper, “shouldn’t he be embracing you like that?”

“I have Bradley to make up for it.”

“But-”

“Quiet, Rick.”

Your brother raises his arms, backing away.

They release one another and Pete walks closer towards you two. “I knew it.”

“Knew what?”

“I knew it would be you who would break the curse and get the scary beast to become a fluff ball again.”

“Ah.”

“No more talking.” Nick pushes himself between you two. “We have a celebration to plan.”

“We do?” You ask.

“Yep.”

“Like what?”

“The reunion of our people, a potential courtship, and the celebration of Bradley’s birthday.”

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“What you just said there, you know the thing about a potential courtship?”

“Oh,” he lets out a soft chuckle, “you mean that thing? That’s a- that’s nothing,” he quickly adds trying to brush it off.

“It’s not nothing if you felt the need to mention it,” you point out.

The surprised look on his face lets you know he's been caught.

The snickers from your brothers, Pete and Leonard around you don’t help him either.

“I liked it better when you didn’t talk,” Nick tells him.

“We all know you’re lying. And you’ve missed my voice,” Leonard teases him.

Marcus shakes his head.

Part of him feels as though he shouldn’t have mentioned it now, like maybe Nick should have waited but the other part of him was just too excited to hold it in any longer.

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time and he’s going to bask in every moment for as long as he can which is probably why he quickly added the word, potential.

He glances down at you once more and the look on your face tells him otherwise.

Dare he say, you’re happy at the thought of being in a courtship with him? If not that, then he’s putting too much thought into it but, he knows you.

He can’t hold back any longer and takes a step forward, cupping your cheek before leaning in to place a gentle kiss on your lips, slowly deepening until he pulls away for air.

For you, it was more than enough in that moment… until your siblings let out fake gagging noises behind you.

Everyone takes their time returning to the village, wanting to use every moment to rekindle and rebuild relationships that have… been on hold.

The last few to take their leave is your family, only after giving you long hugs, muttering kind remarks while your second oldest brother makes jokes.

You turn to the side and find familiar faces.

Sam and Carole watch all of you with happy smiles on their faces.

The warlock guides the woman closer to the forest before they disappear.

To this day, you still don’t know if what you saw was real or not.

A few months later you and Nick are engaged, the weddings coming up faster than you realize.

Bradley runs around the hallways with Chip, their laughter bringing a sense of peace for you and your fiancé.

“Hello,” he says, reaching for your hand as he kisses your knuckles.

“It’s never going away, is it?”

He chuckles. “I happen to find that to be very rude you know. I’ve been working on this for a long time,” he pets his mustache.

“I know,” you nod. “It was there the same time I was here, maybe longer.”

“And it's here to stay.” He pauses, his lips tugging upwards into a playful smirk. “How would you feel about Bradley having one when he’s older?”

“Did that curse take away your brain too?”

He scoffs, “I’m serious.”

“So am I.” You sigh, “I don’t think he’ll follow in your footsteps.”

The boys come rushing up the stairs, coming to a halt before they could run into either of you.

“Mama, look.”

Your left eye twitches. “Oh, how fun. Please make sure your mustaches are off before dinner.”

They nod and take off.

You turn to him, narrowing your eyes at his pathetic excuse of hiding his amusement. “You are evil.”

“I am not. He got that idea all on his own.”

“He is your son.” You turn and walk away, feeling that enough was said and he would understand.

“I thought he was ours?”

“Until that mustache is off, you’re claiming him.”

He grumbles under his breath, whispering his sons name. “Bradley. Bradley.”

A few months later you and Nick are officially married and during the big dance, Pete and Penny announce their courtship (which was no surprise) before the night was over.

Tom found himself a nice young woman, Sarah, who is his current business partners sister.

They settle down in town so they’re close to family and for him to be able to continue with his business.

Rick met a nice young woman, Antoinette while he went to the neighboring village to get a new saddle for his horse, Wood (gifted to him by your husband).

Charlotte wants to go off and live the life your mother couldn’t, travel and share her art skills with the world, not quite ready to settle down yet… until a year later when she returned home engaged to a man named Adam.

By that time, you had your first daughter, Sydney-Carole (named after your mother and Bradley’s). He was so happy to hold his little sister, always careful and sitting somewhere since he was still a small child.

Pete and Penny married shortly after your second daughter; Aline was born.

Tom and Sarah moved a few towns away when she became pregnant with their second child.

Right around that time, Rick and Antoinette decided it was time to go to back to her hometown when she got word of her sick father.

Charlotte and Adam stay in the same house as your father, helping him and selling her art until he passes.

By the time Bradley and Chip were thirteen, Sydney-Carole becoming an energetic eight-year-old, and Aline barely turning five; it was a big surprise when you found out you were pregnant again, this time birthing a boy, Phillipe.

Nick was happy to hear that there was finally gonna be another Bradshaw boy in family.

Bradley was happy that he would be able to have someone he could pass off his “wisdom” too (a thought he got from his father).

As you watch the kids run around in the garden, you can’t help but wonder how different things could have been had you not asked for that rose and realize, you wouldn’t trade anything in the world to not be where you are now.

Nick exits the back and stands beside you, enjoying the sight of all the children playing together while you bask in the peace of knowing that this is what your papa would have wanted.

All his grown children still having monthly dinners so that parents could bond and chat while the children play.

62 notes · View notes

thestalwartheart · 5 months

Text

20 questions for fic writers

Thank you for the tag, @aniron48 ❤️ This was such a nice way to wrap up this year, and to remember what I'd written!

Tagging @cicerfics @dixkens @dassandre-00qpidsarrow @boffin1710 @samanthahirr and whoever else wants to play along!

Answers under the cut!

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 82! I feel like I blacked out and blinked and woke up with a horrifying number of fics!

2. What’s your total A03 word count? 385,997 😨

3. What fandoms do you write for? James Bond mostly. Also Glass Onion/Knives Out. I don't write for The Witcher anymore, but I have in the past. On my laptop is a lot of unfinished Star Trek fic - mainly Kirk/Spock - and a crack at some Arthur/Eames (from Inception).

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

being with you (is the best of all)

date, interrupted

the places you leave in the dust

a rank above

by any other name

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do try to, and I mostly succeed. I like to thank people for investing their time with my work, and I also like getting to know people in fandom. There's still 100+ comments I need to get back to, and some of them are very old. I will get to them though!!! I promise!

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Anything involving the MCD tag. There was also a short called garden that was very sad for other reasons.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Either being with you (is the best of all) or dispatches from the division.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not really, though I've had a few rude comments and bookmark notes. One person let me know across three chapters that they hated my characterisation of Bond so much they were tempted to rewrite the ending! But most people are lovely. The Bond fandom is small and most of us have our heads screwed on the right way.

9. Do you write smut? Frequently and without shame. There are 29 E-rated fics in my backlog for your reading pleasure.

10. Do you write crossovers? I have a Knives Out/James Bond crossover series where Bond and Blanc are detectives competing for Q's attention.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware of!

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes and I am endlessly grateful for people who are more talented with languages than I am ❤️

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Just a team poem for 007 Fest, though I have worked with beta readers.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship? Kirk/Spock forever.

15. What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I had a multiverse fic I posted a chapter of that I don't think I have the energy for anymore. I was so undecided about the ending that I lost interest in writing it.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I'm good with characters and details. My writing has been called immersive by a few people, and I do really pride myself on building atmosphere. I think I can turn a good phrase occasionally too!

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I need to get better at proofreading for typos. I'm quite lazy with plotting and planning as well. I definitely need to work on that for an original novel I'm writing!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? I only do it if it's necessary, and I'm so glad AO3 now has a hover feature for immediate translation. One of my pet peeves at uni was how often scholars used random French and Latin words or phrases when they didn't need to!!!

19. First fandom you wrote for? HP, probably. Or Glee. Those fics have been purged from the internet now 😂

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written? Either dispatches from the division or the WIP I'm in the process of posting now, called the age of change.

Shout out to everyone who has made it to the end! As a reward, please enjoy this picture of my cat flopped over in her cat tree ❤️

#my fic #ask meme

11 notes · View notes

jiliansky-blog · 1 year

Text

Tale as old as time. Day 5. Healing

Pairing: Morpheus x FairyReader

Rating: PG

Words: 2400

Notes: Aesthetic is not mine, but I found it fits

This night I saw that man again. This time he was in a cell. And I supposed I should thank the story Morpheus told me. But I still felt lonely. In the morning I found a long green dress with a long dress train. It was a nice dress. Mother would approve of it. Then I saw a bouquet of beautiful flowers. Morpheus was trying. I hope he felt well. As usual, I heard knocking on the door. I opened the door myself. “Hello, Lucienne”, I said. “Good morning, my lady”, she said. “You looked beautiful as always. Did you sleep well? Do you like your new dress”. “Thank you”, I replied with a smile. “Everything is well. How is lord Morpheus?” “He is better, lady Eveline”, Lucienne replied. “I thought perhaps you want to have breakfast with him?” “I would like to”, I said. “But what about him?” “He doesn’t mind”, she paused and then continues. “I dare to say he enjoys his company. But he doesn’t know how to express his emotions”. “I’m glad to hear it”, I admitted. “Then are you ready to go?” she asked. I nodded and followed her to Morpheus’ room. He was sitting already on the bed and dressed only in some black robe that reminds me of the smoke. I still saw a lot of his white skin. It doesn’t bother me. Some fairies don’t like clothes too. “Good morning”, I smiled, when he looked at me. “How do you feel, lord Morpheus?” “Better”, he replied. “Thank you”. “Will you allow me to check your wound after breakfast?” I asked. “I will”, he replied in his short answers. “Does the Lord of Dreams need to sleep?” I asked when we started our meal. “Not necessary”, he replied. “But I can sleep and rest to regain my strength”. “Do you see dreams or nightmares?” I asked. There came silence. I thought he doesn’t want to answer, but then he speaks. “Sometimes”, he said. “But my subjects wouldn’t bother me on their own will”. “Do you see my dreams?” I asked. “Why do you ask?” he replied. “Some nightmare is bothering you?” “Not a nightmare, no”, I said. “It’s nothing important”. “I can see dreams, but it takes effort to separate alone dream”, Morpheus answered after a minute. “And I try not to watch dreams of those who are close to me”. “Oh, alright”, I answered. “You can tell me if nightmares will bother you”, he said.

“Thank you, lord Morpheus”, I smiled. “You can call me just Morpheus”, he replied. “We are engaged. It would be right”. “Then you can call me Eveline”, I said. “Maybe, if you feel well, you can join me on the walk? Later that day”. “It would be my pleasure”, he almost smiled. He was surprisingly gentle and polite when he wasn’t angry. But I can understand why he was so angry because of his statement. “You are a powerful being”, I admitted. “Can you take off this curse?” “I’ve already tried”, he answered. “Turned out to be I can’t break the curse of…another powerful being”. “Another being?” I asked. “Do you know who cursed you?” “I have my thoughts”, he said carefully. “Tell me”, I said. “Please, I want to help”. “I need to have proof first”, he sighed. “And then I will tell you”. It was reasonable. We can’t accuse other gods or creatures without proof. So I agreed. He relaxed a little. “Do you like my gifts?” Morpheus asked finally. “Flowers and dresses?” I asked and smiled. “Yes, thank you very much”. “I’m glad”, he nodded. “And I promised not t unleash my anger on you. You are not guilty of this curse”. After breakfast, Morpheus apologized and disappeared to work in the Waking world of people. I was left alone again or so I think so. “Hello, princess”, Matthew joined me in the garden. “Hello, Matthew”, I smiled to him. “Your relationship with the boss is better now”, he admitted. “I hope so”, I noticed. “But he can be unpredictable”. “Yes, he is”, the bird chuckled. “We are all grateful that you decided to stay after this accident”. “I can be endangered you”, I sighed. “Boss won’t allow anything bad to happen”, the raven replied. “He can be a Nightmare, but he still has his power”. “That’s good”, I smiled. “I’m glad that he is not injured hard. I wanted to help but I almost made everything worse”. “In your defense, anyone gets scared by a boss’ demeanor”, he admitted. “The ruler of nightmares and all this stuff”. “And a nightmare he became”, I said thoughtfully. “Perhaps, it was what someone was thinking of him. What if he offended someone and that is the repayment?” “Matthew?” I asked, not sure if the raven is still there. “Yeah?” he answered. “Did Morpheus offend someone recently?” I asked. “As far as I know he has a lot of…misunderstandings with a lot of creatures and people”, he replied. “Boss has a difficult character”. “Yes, I noticed that”, I said. “But it won’t make it easier to figure out who is standing behind this curse. And he doesn’t want to tell me about his suspicious”. “He needs time”, said the raven vaguely. “Does the curse have a time limit?” I asked. “I read that sometimes it must be broken during a certain period”. “I heard something about one month”, he replied. “It’s less already”. “One month… and it has been started just before my arrival”, I said. “It’s concerning. I have a bad feeling about it”. “So am I”, Matthew said. “Someone should be offended so much”, I remarked. “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

“I’m going to gather information”, I said, “Gladly, our relation with Morpheus improved. Maybe, he will tell me later what happened”. “So you are not going home”, he admitted. “Not now”, I smiled. “That’s good news”, he said. “Boss will be glad”. “I know”, I admitted.

Later that day I heard knocking at the door when I was reading in my room. Of course, it was Lucienne. I was surprised. “Lord Morpheus said you wanted a walk with him”, he said. “I need to lead you to the throne room to meet him”. “Oh, very well”, I smiled. “Then lead me”. “I’m so glad that you stayed, my lady”, she said. “So I heard”, I nodded. “I’m not my mother. She would leave on the first day and leave him in the Hell”. “Queen Tytania is ruthless”, said Lucienne. “She said that queen should be ruthless”, I replied. “Lord Morpheus also should be ruthless sometimes”, she said. “Without some rules and decisions dreams and nightmares can consume him or the universe will collapse. But he doesn’t like it”. “Really?” I asked. “No, once upon a time he has to finish someone’s life or the universe would die”, Lucienne replied. “He doesn’t want to, he befriended her until he couldn’t buy any more time. Until it was almost too late”. “Oh, that must be terrible”, I sighed. “Yes, it damaged his soul”, she sighed too. “He always does what should be done, but it makes his damage as well”. Finally, we got the throne room. The king of nightmares was already there, waiting. It was weird seeing his scary figure in the light of the day. “I’m ready to fulfill my promise, Eveline”, he said. “I’m glad”, I smiled. “How do you feel? How are your wounds?” “I’ll be fine”, he replied. “Thank you, Lucienne. You can go”. And I heard the footsteps of the librarian. I was no longer afraid of Morpheus. And I wasn’t angry with him. I felt curiosity. “I don’t remember when the last time I show someone the Dreaming was”, he admitted and gave me a hand. I took it and we walked through the castle and to the garden. I want to ask did he show it to his past lovers but changed my mind. “I didn’t think you would want my company when I. In this. Form”, he admitted. “You surprised me, Eveline”. “Yes, my mother always says it too”, I replied. There came silence. I started to think that their relationship wasn’t good. Or they don’t end well at all. “She thinks a kindness is a weakness”, I said. “I can believe it”, he replied. “She would leave me there”. “I’m not here”, I said. “I can see it”, Morpheus replied. “That is why you stay? Is it an act of kindness?” It seemed to me that he was offended by a thought. I didn’t find it offensive, but perhaps he understood wrong. “No”, I said. “I indented to stay unless you want to scare me one more time. But now I know your form and it won’t be easy”. He chuckled. He wasn’t cold anymore.

“You’re fearless, princess”, he noticed. “Good to hear”, I smiled. “I understood that your…outburst of anger on the first day was connected to your statement. But please, don’t shout at me since I’m not the one, who cursed you. I’m trying to help”. “I understand”, he sighed. “I will try. To hold my temper”. “Thank you”, I smiled. “And I will try to help you”. “You can. Perhaps. By staying”, he said suddenly. “Really?” I surprised. “Yes”, he nodded. “I will make my amends. For how I treated you in the begging. There can’t be forgiveness for me”. “I have already forgiven you”, I smiled. “Just don’t repeat this behavior, please. I like being here. Your realm reminds me of mine, and not at the same time”. “It should feel like home”, he nodded. “Like shelter”. “It is”, I smiled again. “And your…subjects are nice to me”. “I’m glad”, he said with relief. Silence. I started to worry, that he disappeared without warning, but then he spoke again. “I wish the Dreaming become a home for you if you…want to stay longer than one month”, Morpheus said. “Thank you”, I felt warm. He can be charming. “You can do whatever you like here”, he continued. “Only you shouldn’t touch that flower. It is very fragile”. “I got it”, I smiled. “It’s important to you, isn’t it?” “Yes”, he nodded. “I won’t let anyone touch it”. “I won’t”, I said. “Now, if you excuse me, I need to make some things done”, he said. “Of course”, I replied and he went away. I couldn’t keep him from his work. I continue to walk around. Suddenly I saw a new view. A small house full of flowers. I smiled. I was sure that Morpheus made it to please me. And it worked. I gladly went there.

I returned to the castle when the sun began to set down. The flower house was wonderful. He knew what I love. “Are you alright, lady Eveline?” I heard Lucienne’s voice. “Yes”, I answered. “Why shouldn’t I be?” “You were away for a long time”, she said. “Lord Morpheus made me a gift and I enjoyed it”, I smiled. “I’m happy to hear it”, Lucienne replied with relief. “Are you looking for me to tell you about dinner?” I asked. “I hope, Morpheus will join me. I would want it”. “You are right”, I heard a smile in her voice. “The dinner is soon. And lord Morpheus promised to join you”. “Good”, I smiled. “I want to thank him for the gift”. “Lord Morpheus is an attentive lover”, she mentioned. I blushed at the thought. I didn’t think about it yet. But I will someday if I stay as his fiancée and his queen. “I’m sorry”, said Lucienne. “I misstep”. “Everything is alright”, I said. “Don’t worry”. “Do you like him?” she asked. “I don’t know, he is a charming companion and suitor”, I replied. “But it is too early to tell”. “I understand”, she said and doesn’t ask anything anymore. And then she left near the dining room. Everything so changed since I was there the last time. But this time Morpheus was waiting for me without darkness.

“Thank you for the gift”, I smiled and sat. “It is beautiful”. “I’m glad you like it”, he nodded. “It was very thoughtful and sweet of you”, I said. “What brings joy to you?” “I didn’t think about it”, he replied. “Your company for now”. I blushed. He is trying to make it work between us. Or is he like me? “You can every dream make true”, I said. “I can”, he replied and started to eat. “I’m lord of Dreams”. I started too. I noticed that shyness wasn’t his best feature. But his was more than god. It can be understood. And I was glad that he listened to me. “Why do you want me to fulfill the arrangement?” I asked. “Because I liked you”, he replied honestly. I blushed again. Mother always said that I’m beautiful. But I didn’t expect to take the attention of the Lord of the Dreams, who must saw many beautiful women. “I’m flattered”, I smiled. “I’m flattered too, that you agreed”, he smirked. He made it on purpose. He made me blush again. “So what is our plan?” I asked. “You said you wanted to break the curse”, Morpheus said. “Yes, but you didn’t give me any clues”, I admitted. “Don’t you want the curse to be broken? I’m pretty sure your subjects don’t want to be invisible too”. “It’s not that simple”, he said. “I told you, I will tell you when I’m sure”. “Very well”, I said. “Can I ask you a question?” “Yes”, he nodded. “Have you visited the world of people recently?” I asked carefully. “In this form”. “No”, Morpheus sighed. “Turned out I can’t change it anywhere”. “Oh, so now you are visiting people only in dreams”, I admitted. “Yes”, he said. The rest of the evening we were talking about dreams and the human world. I have never been in the human world. “Perhaps, you wouldn’t find it interesting”, he admitted. “Why not?” I smiled. “Humans don’t believe in magic and fairies anymore”, Morpheus said. “Perhaps, that’s the reason why fairies don’t want to show up there anymore”, I admitted. “Mother told me something about it”. “Perhaps”, he nodded. Soon the dinner was over and I admitted that it was a good day. I enjoyed Morpheus’ company and hoped that the next day will be the same. “You need to rest”, he said. “Maybe”, I said. “Have you enjoyed this day?” he asked when he wanted to take me to my room. “I enjoyed it very much”, I smiled. “Thank you. Will you keep me company tomorrow?” “If you want to”, Morpheus also almost smiled. “I want to”, I replied. “Then see you tomorrow, Eveline”, he answered. “Good night, Morpheus”, I smiled again and entered my room. This time I was falling asleep with a smile.

@shadowqueen1318 @mypsychoticlove @justathirstyhoe @ladymoztaza

#dream x reader #sandman x reader #morpheus x reader #The Sandman #sandman fanfiction

25 notes · View notes

ruiniel · 2 years

Text

In bloom

Characters: Glorfindel, f!Reader

Relationship: Glorfindel/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit 🔞

Count: 2.6k

Tags: oneshot, Imladris, post-LOTR, human!reader, f!reader, reunion, feels, intimacy, light smut, yearning, vaginal sex

Summary:

A friend and I had this writing exchange where we'd give each other a set of characters + a word/sentence in Quenya or Sindarin as prompts, and build around those.

So last year I wrote this short oneshot for @pickingfightswithsprites, who gave the prompt for some 🔥 Glorfindel x (human) f!Reader, which I'm posting here

The great courtyard bustles with movement. There is a shift in the wind, carrying with it the clopping of hooves and the whinnying of horses. Travelers speed through the gates as the household of Imladris—what little remains of it—rushes to meet the returning company and aid with their wares.

This marks the end of another expedition in the far southern lands, and judging by the letters, it will not be the last, with many joining the King in his efforts after the War.

A mild breeze gushes in the air, infused with the fragrance of gardens in bloom. You watch the Elves before you—lingerers, not yet having taken the journey to their Undying Lands; some are not ready to abandon the shores they know, others stay for reasons you cannot understand. They tarry here, in a changing world free of shadow for the first time in Ages.

You search the arrivals, craning your neck to see better; shoulders squared, restless fingers worrying at the loose thread of your sleeve. It would be a lie to say the past months were anything other than constant, agonizing loneliness; that time didn’t sludge and crawl through its days. You see the black-haired twins dismount, worn and battle-weary, their eyes like quicksilver. There are none wounded from what you can tell, and that is a measure of comfort. Your eyes skim over the gathering again and at last, you see him.

The weight of his gaze on you proves too much, and all sounds fade to the errant beat in your chest. Welcoming arms hide him from you but you keep staring, choking on your own relief.

You feel the fool standing here like this and before you know it, you’re slowly turning on your heel, walking in the opposite direction away from the rising cheer.

The stable entrance strikes your sides as you rush through, the smell of fresh hay and horses a balm to your stupor. Come to an abrupt halt you clutch the rails of one stall, taking deep breaths; the air will not reach; you’ve overwrought yourself again.

The wooden doors creak and soft footfalls draw near, attuned to the drum of your heart; the subtle rustle of chainmaille joins in, both a blessing and a damning to you. In your sudden fit of cowardice, you remain still, staring emptily ahead.

Pressure tightens around your shoulders, gently, drawing you into familiar warmth. Your chin tips down to the vambrace adorning a forearm, to the gilded rayed sun upon it. You fall against his armored chest, the cool plate hard on your back.

“As careless with yourself as ever,” comes the soft rebuke. His voice, how you missed it. It is the same—vibrant, grounding, with a warm undertone.

You grip at his forearm with shaking fingers, tracing the carvings. “I worried.” You have questions, but your last shred of strength is dwindling fast, and words are scarce. “When no missives reached us in the past months, I thought...”

His other arm wraps around you. “They forced a change in our strategy. There was no time to send word.”

The stable doors open anew, and commotion fills the silence, like bursting mayhem to your ears. Your body softens against him, until he is all but supporting you. Sleep. Rest becomes a dire need as your head lolls to the side, all your worries having spent you.

“I must see the others. Promise me you will go rest?” he asks.

Soft gold brushes your cheek and nose. You’re dizzy; it’s been so long since you held him, felt him, smelled him, had him. “I… promise.”

His fingers tighten on your shoulder like a silent vow and then his warmth is gone, leaving you bare and cold, but relieved.

Sunlight sifts through the stained glass window. Seated on the edge of the bath amid rising wafts of steam, you watch the rays of green and red dancing on the water’s surface. You awoke recently to birdsong and the sweetness of lilac and butterfly bushes outside. Your wayward thoughts rise and crash in uneven order, settling on the memory of his promise.

You hear him enter soon enough, and at the sound of his light tread, you gain your feet and seek him with eager steps, just in time to see him discard his sullied cloak, casting it aside. His bright eyes alight on you, and as before, your body sees fit to rebel—heavy like lead. Perhaps you must still accept this is reality, and not a figment of your yearning or the torment of your pining. You take quick strides, closer.

Glorfindel stands before you with the ghost of a smile on his face, as dusted with travel as his clothes. His plate armor is gone. There is a tightness in his stance, present whenever he returns from these overlong trips. His boots are caked in mud and your gaze sweeps over him, finding a healing bruise or two upon his temple and cheek; his long hair is unkempt, windswept from the ride.

“You look...” you dare take a step, then another, until you’re close enough to see the warm pulse at his neck.

A faded smirk, revealing impish dimples. “Filthy?”

You scoff—or sob, you cannot tell—falling against him in your struggle for purchase. “You said it, not I,” you rustle, breathing in his scent, gasping at the sudden vice of his hold; you’d forgotten his strength. “Come,” you urge, but he does not move; nor can you, with his fingers hooked into your back. Gently, you pry yourself free and bind a hand around his wrist, leading a slow retreat to the bath chamber. Once there, you face him, reaching for the stiff collar of his tunic, your fingers circling and undoing the coppery studs one by one.

His hands twine in your hair as your touch drifts to his chest, lower, working until the garment comes undone, and you ease it off his shoulders. When you seek his gaze, you notice how he follows your every move, lips parting when your trembling fingers reach the waist belt of his trousers to undo the fastening at the front. Your hands slip easily beneath the fitted material, over warm skin and hard muscle; his palm finds your inner thigh, trailing upward. You lift your head to him, sighing as his thumb finds your center, drawing small circles through the wispy silks of your robe. The closeness, his lips on yours, all skew your balance like a blade shearing through bone and sinew; you whimper and he releases you only to shed his boots and trousers before crushing you to him again, whispering in your hair words in every language he knows. Struggling in his hold with some success, you lead him to sit on the heated marble edge.

Yet standing, rapt, you wallow in the beauty of him: the heave of his chest, his strong thighs. His skin, warm freckled gold from months spent training in the burning sun. His strong-veined hands, settling heavily on your waist.

“Á helta.”

“What… what does that mean?” you ask, bemused at his use of those alluring, ancient shards of High Elven, always like forgotten spells falling from his lips.

Glorfindel hums and his gaze softens, a patient hunter in wait. His smile becomes crooked. “Strip.”

You grin, an eyebrow raised in derision and eager fretting, but you’re already tugging at your robe. You want him to see you, want to remember his face as he looks and lingers on every fleeting, imperfect part.

When the cloth slips down your shoulders Glorfindel wordlessly reaches for the unfastened sash at your middle and wraps each end around his fists, and pulls, ordering you down to him. You cross your bare legs around him and he turns, stepping inside the bath and sinking to his knees with you held fast in his arms.

He sighs, leaning back, immersing you both in liquid warmth as you press your lips to his forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth. “I want to help.”

He frowns, hand sleeking over your rear. “I’d say you already are.” He holds your hips down, and you feel the truth he speaks.

“Before that,” you murmur, a palm to his cheek.

Glorfindel tilts his head so he can nibble on your shoulder. He strains up against you once.

“That’s torturous,” you murmur even as he releases you.

“Believe me, I know,” he returns with half a grin. Then, “Show me.”

It has been so long, your words feel awkward and strange in sharing. But the bond you share, that blazes for something, anything of each other. His uncontrollable shudders are your own; you’re just as weak. You glide to the other end of the bath, propped against the edge, a tapping hand to your chest in bidding.

Glorfindel follows, turning and resting in your arms with his golden head over your heart. There are the reassuring breaths beneath your skin as your palms slide over him, moving to his shoulders, remembering. Your touch eases along his arms, kneading and unraveling knots of tension. In no time at all his body feels heavier against you, his head lolls to one side. “Is this good?” you ask.

“Ná...” he coos, hands skimming along your thighs in the water.

You settle in your shared silence for a while. It is always like this; you’ve gotten used to it by now.

“Do they rankle?…” you ask after some time.

No answer, and with his face turned away, you wonder if he’s actually fallen asleep.

“What is it you are asking?”

You bite on your lip. You dare not ask what he’d done, what he’d had to do all those times, and Glorfindel never spoke of it, for which you assume there are principled reasons. “The places. The people, the memories.”

He sighs as you take his left hand in both of yours and gently press along its length. Your chin rests on the crown of his head. He wrote to you often during those first months away, but his letters only ever covered mundane topics, mentioning nothing else; and you, you never asked but always wished you had.

“Estel does what he must,” Glorfindel says. “There will be yet more unrest before his rule is settled.” He turns his head, his cheek pressed to your naked breast, murmuring: “He will call his banners again come autumn.”

Your hands freeze for a breath before resuming their task.

“I am not going.”

Pure, unmatched relief. “How so?” you ask weakly.

Glorfindel is silent for a long while. You keep to your pleasant toil, lifting his other hand, massaging his palm, circling his knuckles with slow movements.

“The nights...” He gently stirs, rises and turns to face you, his wet hair a deeper gold streaking down his chest, shining rivulets pouring from its tendrils. “The nights were the hardest.”

“How did you make do?”

He brings you in, and cool air meets your skin as you stand in the bath together. “I thought of you,” Glorfindel says and lifts your wrist, pressing an open-mouthed kiss inside your palm. “Of this.” He lifts you easily in his arms.

The longing of ten long months breaks you like a wave crashing against the stones. Your head rests on his chest, eyes closed to the thrum within, and you soon feel the soft sheets beneath you—then him, trapping you with his body. His touch feels rougher now, prowling up your legs, around your waist, cupping your breasts. Harsh fingers, coarse from wielding deadly blades; now they wield you, strong and feverish on your skin. He grabs your chin and takes your mouth and though his kiss melts you it soon becomes painful, and drawing scarce breaths you break away, palms pressing against his chest.

In sudden clarity Glorfindel pauses; his weight is less on yours, his labored breathing hot on your neck as he hides his face into you. “Too much too soon… Forgive me.”

The last you want is a retreat. “No.” You need him back. “... I like it this way. I like you this way.” He takes his time, usually, but now this rush and the fervor and his febrile touch are in themselves a thrill leaving you powerless, hopeless with need.

The Elf slowly raises his head, smiling—he was always dangerous that way. The sun fades beyond the tall windows, dimming your surroundings to layers of twilight. His forehead rests on yours as you run a hand through his wet hair, feel the tip of an ear. His arm reaches under you, locks around your middle, his other hand cupping your head. Soft lips press to your ear. “I want inside you.”

A violent shiver races through your every nerve, where you crave him to the point of breaking apart. Before you can speak he reaches to feel you, wetting his fingers on your slick, and you cannot stifle your moan in time. “It seems you do as well,” he adds, sounding so very pleased.

“I missed you,” you choke and with a graceful arch of his back you feel him, the head of his arousal hard against your mound. With a shift of his hips, he finds you; his breath catches, and you gasp. Pleasurable flickers arrow up your body and your hand runs down fine skin, settling on firm muscle, leading him deeper, reveling in the irate rhythm of his heart against yours. He slips halfway in, hips swaying left and right, stretching you a little, attuning to your sighs, his kiss soft and tender.

“You cannot imagine the things I’d do to you,” Glorfindel whispers. “But slowly,” he rises propped on his arms, and the first long, unhurried thrust proves his intent. Your trembling thighs clench around him, your palms frantic down his chest, and you look to where your bodies are joined before your head falls sharply back against the pillows from another thrust. He leans over you, mouth alighting on your chin, movements building to a pace.

You taste the sun on him. He breaks away to glance at you briefly before his lashes flutter closed, a slight frown on his face; his thrusts follow your moans, stopping each time moments before you peak to steal a kiss, to nip at your skin. You raise your hips, changing the angle as a firm hand to your shoulder holds you down. You’re seldom in your right mind in these moments, and he’s learned to read you so well—every sigh, every breath and moan and what they mean, what they beg for.

Suddenly Glorfindel lifts you to him, turning with you both until you straddle him and he’s on his back, hands on your hips; thrusting upward once, twice, again and again, his unyielding grasp anchored in your flesh as you ride him to oblivion, moaning shamelessly into his smile. He takes over when you tire, ceasing only when you arch your back drowning in shudders of delight, shivering and falling over him, panting and stunned by the scent of heated skin.

His slow teasing resumes, his hands running soothingly along your back. “Took you longer than I recall,” Glorfindel whispers breathlessly, settling into languid movements, grinning through his abandon.

You hide your face in the crook of his neck. “Too much for you, my lord Glorfindel?” In the gloom, you kiss his cheek, lick his lips, suck on his playful tongue.

A low rumble rises in his throat, his hand drifting to your lower back. “Have a care,” he warns, and you feel him pulsing inside you, hard and unspent. “The night is still young.”

“Unlike you—”

Your teasing ends in a yelp when your world shifts and tilts, and you’re trapped beneath him again. You gaze up at a soft smile, in contrast to the fiendish light in his eyes. “Remember,” Glorfindel murmurs against your lips, a thumb caressing your temple, “You started this.”

*terms in Elvish (Q) from realelvish.net

#glorfindel x reader #lotr x reader #glorfindel x you #ruiniel:fanfiction #middle earth imagine #elf x reader

98 notes · View notes

fanby-fckry · 5 months

Text

A Far Cry From Eden

Chapters: 1/?

Word Count: 682

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Warnings: Past Character Death, Misogyny, Religious Content, Religious Guilt

Relationships: Eve/Lilith Morningstar, Past Adam/Eve (Hazbin Hotel), Past Adam/Lilith Morningstar

Characters: Eve (Hazbin Hotel), Lilith Morningstar, Mentioned Adam (Hazbin Hotel), Mentioned Lucifer Morningstar

Additional Tags: Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Canon, Rare Pairings, Gay yearning, Pre-Femslash, Pre-Relationship, my depiction of Eve might get steam-rolled by canon so I needed to write this NOW, Eve goes to Hell, because the REAL Hell would be eternity with Adam

Series: Part 1 of Women of Eden

Summary:

Eve wasn’t sure how long she wept, but it felt like an eternity. Truly, it would’ve been an eternity if not for the hand that entered her vision and pulled her from her despair.

“Come, darling,” said a voice like the sweetest melody. “Even the Fallen need not remain on the ground.”

Despite spending her life repenting for it, Eve is sentenced to Eternal Damnation for the Original Sin. Betrayed by her God and separated from her family, Eve finds salvation in strange places – namely, in the arms of Lilith Morningstar.

Tears streamed from Eve’s eyes as she hurdled down into Hell. They stung her eyes and turned her vision red, but it was only after some made their way into her mouth that she realized she was crying tears of blood.

Hair that had silvered with age darkened to the brown it once was in her youth. Short, bony horns sprouted from just behind her hairline, and vestigial wings burst from her shoulder blades. In one moment, she saw her skin as it was when she lived in Eden; in the next she saw the skeleton beneath.

Eve screamed in anguish, in heartbreak, and in spite. Hadn’t she been a good wife? A good mother? Hadn’t she repented for her sin in the Garden? Hadn’t she been punished enough?

When she hit the ground, Eve felt more pain than she had ever known. It was worse than any injury, worse than the pain of childbirth, even worse than the loss of Abel and Cain.

She felt the betrayal of the God she had dedicated her life to, the final severance between herself and her children – who were either cursed to walk the Earth forever or promised an Afterlife in Heaven – and the destruction of everything she’d ever known.

And Eve wailed, laying in the crater she made when she Fell. She had no will to rise, no reason.

She had given everything to her God and her husband, and this was her reward. It was all for nothing. She’d never see either of them again. Adam was in Heaven – he’d passed years before her; he’d visited – and Damnation was about as Godforsaken as one could get.

Eve felt as broken as her promise in the Garden. As bitter as the aftertaste of the Forbidden Fruit. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.

Seas of red tears poured over her cheeks, because once again, Eve was paying for her sin with her blood.

Eve wasn’t sure how long she wept, but it felt like an eternity. Truly, it would’ve been an eternity if not for the hand that entered her vision and pulled her from her despair.

“Come, darling,” said a voice like the sweetest melody.

Eve looked up and saw – for the first time in her existence – a woman who was not her kin. Long platinum hair cascaded over her shoulders and kissed the ground beneath her feet. Her silver eyes shone like moonlight, and she wore a dress blacker than the night.

She was blasphemy and salvation, she was glory and grace and safety and sin, and she was the most beautiful person Eve had ever laid eyes on.

“Even the Fallen need not remain on the ground,” said the woman, and Eve took the hand she offered.

“What is your name?” Eve asked, as the woman helped her to her feet.

“Lilith,” the woman answered.

“I’m Eve,” Eve told Lilith, feeling rather unsteady on her feet.

Lilith smiled. “Of course you are,” she said. “Who else would you be?”

Eve didn’t know what she meant by that. In fact, she found it difficult to even begin to think of what Lilith might mean – too lost in flaxen locks and moonlit eyes.

“Welcome to my kingdom, Eve. It’s no Heaven, no Eden, no Earth – but it is home. And I hope that one day, you might come to love it as I do.”

It was then that the pieces fell into place. Lilith: The woman Eve’s husband cursed with his dying breath; the one who was cast from Eden for wanting to lie above him rather than below. Lilith who cavorted with devils, with Fallen archangels, with the very serpent that had fed Eve the fruit that would be her Damnation.

Lilith who treated Eve with kindness from the very moment of their meeting; who spoke to her with endearments in a way her husband had never cared to; whose appearance left her awestruck in a way God had long-since been unable to.

And Eve knew then and there that she would follow Lilith across Hell and back again.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #lilith hazbin hotel #fanby’s fuckery #fanby’s fics

4 notes · View notes

ronearoundblindly · 1 year

Text

The Stark Legacy (13)

Summary: Tony leaves for a long-term, interstellar mission.

Warnings for meh lousy parenting. Tony is still struggling. Rated Teen/Mature so 15+ only, please! Short chapter. WC ~1k

Deflection, part of Book Two: Mind (see previous or series)

CHAPTER THIRTEEN—July 2038

Tony couldn’t really focus on just one piece of the globe below, a vast marble rippled with land and sea, oasis and desert, life and death. The Avengers’ Satellite Station had launched only six years ago; it had taken that long to recover his wits and the integral structure that had exploded with…Pepper. This orbiting bulk was the reason her Memorial Garden had taken so long to build, and his mourning was the reason this orbiting bulk had taken another half-dozen years.

Orbit had its advantages, however, because it’s easier to notice a massive, red sinkhole leading to hell when staring down upon it. They may have never seen Mephisto coming from inside the Earth if not for being able to view a thousand miles within the space of an arm against the thick, triple pane fiberglass. That didn’t prepare Tony for who he would, and wouldn’t, see down there. Ever since Wanda had cut him off from such vivid experiences with Pepper, Tony lost so many of the minuscule details that kept her feeling real, kept her close to him. The delayed slipping away of his memory felt all the more tragic, for he had truly lost Pepper Potts long before he gave up on her. Loss seemed as inevitable as the rotation of the Earth below. You could change perspective to keep seeing what you wanted, but the surface would never stop moving away from your gaze.

Tony could sense a tentative presence at the door. He dropped his crossed, contemplative arms, turning to invite Maria inside. “What is it, Hill?”

The agent entered, holding up a slim file.

“It’s from the watch list. He was first mentioned in our interrogation of Simon Marshall, a pharmaceutical terrorist trying to create an ingestible drug to produce super soldiers…and he managed to alter several people. The unfortunate side effect was also to turn them into psychopaths.”

“To be fair, he probably just nudged them there,” Tony allowed. “Gimme.” He snatched the file from the agent. “Lem-u-el Dor-cas?” he snorted. “That is officially one of the worst names I’ve ever heard. It’s not even a syllable—it’s a letter away from Doctor Dorks. Are people trying to make us not take them seriously? What’s this guy done that’s so bad, eh?”

“He may have been behind the stolen shipment of bio-samples last year.”

“Two letters away from Dork-Ass. I mean…come on. At least Klaue could be, ya know,” Tony looked up with outstretched fingers on an ominously tense hand, “scary, sorta.”

“Stark, this doctor has not only been linked to Professor Marshall but has also been linked to some created mutants. Unfortunately we do not have much information on those individuals or their abilities yet. We only know these were not given a little pill. Best guess so far is genetic manipulation.”

Tony shut the file and tossed it onto the nearest table. “Easy. Have Point Break electrocute him and send me the crispy bits. Next.” He looked around the lab, pushing some useless part over.

“That’s the thing, sir. Thor is currently off world helping the Guardians with annihilation—” she checked the file, “—Annihilus, ’scuse me, so you’re going to take the lead on this—”

“Are we trapped down there?” Tony gestured back to the view-ports.

Maria, after years of practice, snapped back and forth between Tony’s mangled thoughts easily. “We have protection, sir, more than most. You’ve put quite a bit of armor around the world now.”

“Yes, but how will people get away,” Tony whispered, “if I’ve locked them on a dying rock.”

“Sir?”

Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t. Build a wall and moat to keep the enemy out, and still all you’ve done is kept your loved ones in the crosshairs and the target on your forehead. He thought of a promise he once made Pepper. “Hill, why didn’t you have kids?” He blurted after a bright bit of light in Florida caught his eye. Maria replied with a touchy and annoyed expression. He continued, “if you’d had children, at what age would Disneyland be out of the question?”

Maria hesitated, confused, but Tony did not let her form an answer before trying to dismiss the wayward thought. “Nevermind.”

“Sir, Sam may not—”

“So Dorkmeister-Flex is where exactly now?”

“The bad doctor was last credibly identified in Morocco. The Atlantian King Namor is concerned at that proximity to his nation.”

“So what you’re saying is I get to go on a lovely vacation and possible Safari hunt?”

“Stark—”

“Don’t worry. I won’t raid the mini-bar this time.” Tony launched into the air and via comms added, “and keep the missions coming. Friday will keep a running tab.”

“Of course, sir,” his AI promptly answered.

“Tony,” Maria jumped in before Stark could swivel quickly out of the room and ditch the station’s monotony, “Sam Wilson woke up.”

“Duh,” Tony brushed, tapping his glasses, “Friday is keeping me apprised.”

“And I’d say she’s too old.”

“I update her regularly.”

“Samantha, Tony, for Disney,” Maria clarified, but Tony didn’t miss a beat.

“On second thought,” he said, “I think Thor and Quill may need some adult supervision. You know how their pissing contests can get,” he twiddled his fingers in front of him, “messy.”

She held up the file, wiggling it to keep him on track.

“T’Challa can handle that, land and sea united and all. I’m contacting—what did Quill call this new ship?—Blondie?” Tony disappeared in the space-safe, modified quinjet. He had a fleeting thought that perhaps he should make a pitstop on Sakaar and take a break from the relentless passage of time. Time only served to remind him of what he’d missed and could never have back.

[Ch 14: Rusted]

[Main Masterlist]

#tony stark fanfiction #tony stark fic #tony stark angst #tony stark feels #alternate universe #avengers endgame #slow build #slow burn #tony stark's daughter #original female character #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #the stark legacy #series #marvel au #mcu au #marvel fanfic #comic crossover

12 notes · View notes

connan-l · 1 year

Text

Meandering Souls - Day 2: Door 2 - Gardening and Botany

Fandom: The House in Fata Morgana

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Relationship: Giselle & Yukimasa Aida, Yukimasa Aida/Pauline Asama, Yukimasa Aida & The White-Haired Girl

Summary: Until their souls cross path once more in the boundless sphere of fate.

The Maid teaches Bestia how to plant flowers; something he might've done before, a long time ago.

[A collection of unrelated one-shots for the @fata10thanni prompts:

Day 1: Door 1 - Mirror

Day 2: Door 2 - Gardening and Botany

Day 3: Door 3 - In the Shadows]

______________________________________________________________

Link on Archive of Our Own

______________________________________________________________

Notes: I’ve actually hesitated for a while to write something with Javi for this one. I went with Yukimasa in the end cause it’s still *his* door, you know? But I don’t really like it in the end so I wonder if I would’ve done better to go with Javi instead like I planned initially… Oh well. Sorry Javi, one day I’ll write something about you, I promise.

Also, just like in the first prompt with the Rhodes parents, Pauline’s mother’s name Filippa here is also her official name, in case you didn’t know.

______________________________________________________________

The manor’s garden didn’t look much like an actual garden and more like some untreated, wild forest.

Bestia didn’t know where he’d got this certitude, given he’d obviously never seen a normal human’s garden before, but somehow he was sure of this. A fact he was aware of innately.

Maybe he’d noticed without realizing it when he’d stopped at that village—

But no, he would not dwell on this.

Just thinking about the village was enough to make him nauseous.

Instead, he reported his gaze on the Maid, sat next to him, who was currently dirtying her hands in the ground .

“Do you understand now, Master?” She asked, after pulling out some more herbs and burying yet another seed. “Come on, give me a hand here. I might be a maid, but it is only the two of us here; and it is quite rude to watch someone work without helping, would you not say?”

Bestia did not understand. The Maid had solicited his help for gardening, but he couldn’t make sense of the reason why she bothered with this. She was weeding out , digging a small hole , then putting a handful of seeds into the ground. She did this almost every day. It seemed so useless to him.

“Why?” He managed to articulate, words still so foreign to him.

The woman stopped, then looked up at him. “Why am I doing this?” She inquired.

She was always surprisingly astute to understand him even when he barely managed to put together comprehensible sentences. Her hand, as white and ethereal as the moon, came resting on her cheek in a thoughtful gesture. Bestia thought about how strange it was that her skin was completely clean despite the fact she’d been twiddling dirt for over an hour now.

She truly didn’t feel human at all, even when she was doing the most basic of tasks.

“My, that’s a good question. Gardening can be useful to grow food, but what we are planting here is not food, so I can understand your bewilderment. Indeed, I suppose you could say there is not much purpose in planting flowers…”

A melancholic expression spread on her face, and Bestia felt more and more confused by the minutes. Why was she even spending time on this if she agreed it was useless ?

As if she’d just read his thoughts, she quickly continued: “There is no purpose… and this land has been cursed and dead for centuries. I doubt anything would be able to grow in it anymore, to be honest, but…”

Suddenly, she looked at him; jade eyes shimmering, enrapturing . “But I love roses. They are the flowers of love. And I know she loved them , too, so I am doing it for her.”

“For her.”

The Maid looked down at the ground, face perfectly blank, but an odd little smile stretch ed her red lips.

“For when she’ll come back.”

Bestia did not ask her who she meant by that.

Not because he was not curious, but because there was something, somewhere, in her voice, that told him it was a secret he had no right to be privy to.

So he simply helped her plant the seeds in silence.

______________________________________________________________

“Tsubaki?”

Yukimasa nodded at Pauline’s curious tone and eyes while she stared at his bag of seeds.

“This is what they’re called. That’s the name for Japanese camellias.”

“Ooh.” Pauline blinked at the seeds, looking at them fixedly as if she was trying to find something hidden in there. “But why does that has anything to do with me?”

He sighed. Sometimes, some part of his mind thought that if he was a normal man, he probably would feel embarrassed by this of interaction with Pauline.

“I… wanted to give you flowers,” he admitted. “And… because you always asks me so much about my home country, I thought… maybe you’d like some Japanese flowers…”

Not like Yukimasa knew much of anything about those , even less so about Japanese ones. Or about gardening, really. He'd always been a man of the sea; he'd never really had to deal with working the land before then.

“…But it’s not like you can just find those around here, so I asked your father, and he told me about how your mother has a garden and loved gardening, so…”

As the words finally started to get to Pauline’s head, a big smile spread on her face and her dark eyes shined with excitement.

“Yes, she has! Does that mean you’re asking for us to garden together?!”

“Well—”

“That sounds like fun! I’m not all that good at it, Mom always tells me I just make a mess of everything and so she generally want to keep me away from the garden— but if you’re here with me then she’ll probably agree! C’mon, let’s ask her!”

Before Yukimasa could reply , Pauline pulled on his hand and hurried him inside the family house. Her mother Filippa did seem quite reluctant at first to let Pauline anywhere near her garden, but with the condition Yukimasa had to keep an eye on her they finally got access to it.

Although Filippa had initially been a gainst her daughter having a foreigner for lover, she’d quickly warmed up to Yukimasa because of “how well-mannered and gentlemanly” he was, and she’d been very amiable towards him ever since. Sometimes, she even actively favored his opinions over Pauline’s and was also very enthusiastic at the prospect of them getting married.

Maybe he should feel a bit bad over deceiving Filippa so overtly when he was anything but an ideal future son-in-law, but it wasn’t like it was in his interest to try to disprove her.

He’d been deceiving Pauline for longer than that too, anyway.

“Okaayy, so they’re in! Do you think we need to do anything else now…?”

Pauline spoke cheerfully before patting the ground in a gentle way, as if she was afraid of disrupting the task she’d just accomplished.

They had finally put into the ground the seeds, and it had… certainly been interesting to watch Pauline make such a mess around her in so little time. Not only were her gloved hands completely covered in dirt, but so were her hair, face and clothes; and this despite her mother having insisted for her to take on an apron to protect herself. Yukimasa could now definitely understand Filippa’s initial reluctance about letting her daughter anywhere near the fresh ground .

But he supposed he shouldn’t be that surprised — Pauline was always like that, after all. So deeply e arnest and intense about everything she was doing that it ended up scattering this energy everywhere around her.

“Those are just normal seeds,” Yukimasa finally replied. “There’s no need for anything else. Just water them.”

“Hmm, I see…” Pauline patted the freshly-covered hole a little once again with the tip of her fingers. Yukimasa was the one who had no experience in gardening, and yet Pauline was always asking him for instructions. “Heheh, well, I can’t wait to see them finally bloom! I wonder what they’ll look like… and when they’ll bloom…”

As she seemed to get lost in thought, Yukimasa stared at her in silence. Her round, pale face was peppered with brown mud all over. It didn’t suit her, he thought, to be dirty like that.

Pauline had to always be clean and pamper, that’s just how it should be.

So before he could think about it, he reached out towards her and wiped out the mud off her face. Pauline, snapping out of her reverie , shrieked in surprise and blushed heavily, her cheeks feeling suddenly very hot under his fingers.

“Y-Yukimasa— What are you—”

“You were dirty.”

“O-Oh… Right…” After realizing what he meant, she giggled awkwardly. “I-It’s always like this with me, right? I just can’t seem to do anything right…”

“You planted the seeds right enough.”

“H-Huh? Oh…” For some reason, she appeared surprised at his comment; and then a gentle smile spread on her face. “Right, I guess so…”

She then looked around her, as if checking if there was not her mother or anyone else around, and then leaned in; briefly putting a small kiss on the corner of his mouth, as feeble as a butterfly.

Yukimasa could feel from here some dirt residual rest on his cheek as a result of this, but as Pauline pulled away and smiled shyly at him, he decided he didn’t mind it much.

“I don’t… know when they’re supposed to bloom,” he finally declared, then looked down at the seeds now deep in the ground.

Captain Asama had been the one to tell him those were red camellias, but he had not added anything else. A long time ago, Yukimasa had heard from his grandfather that red camellias in their culture symbolized a noble death for Japanese warriors, as well as love.

Romantic notions that didn’t fit him in the slightest.

But he had thought they fitted Pauline.

“Oh… well, that doesn’t really matter.”

He lifted his eyes towards the young woman in front of him, the lover he didn’t love , and she was smiling at him, like always.

“I’m sure they’ll be here when you come back either way.”

______________________________________________________________

“What are you doing in the garden?”

A soft, gentle voice shook him out of his thoughts, and when he raised his head a blur of green and white greeted him.

Michelle was looking down at him, curiosity printed all over her face; although he knew she technically wasn’t able to actually look at anything at all.

Bestia hesitated for a moment, not certain of what he should reply, because he wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. The one who had dragged him out there in the first place to take care of the garden — the Maid, or the Witch, or whoever she was — had been nowhere to be seen; so to say the truth, he had no need to go there anymore.

But he’d noticed something unusual today, so he had to check it out.

“The flower,” he finally said.

He could see Michelle tilt her head in confusion.

“Flower?”

“Rose,” he clarified. “She… The rose planted there, it bloomed.”

The young woman’s red eyes widened in understanding, and they seemed to shine in excitement. Bestia wasn’t really sure why, as he should be the most surprised out of the two of them. The Witch had made sure to tell him this land was dead and cursed and that nothing could grow in there anymore. It was strange this single rose had managed to bloom, then, wasn’t it?

W ell, it wasn’t like he had any experience in gardening before anyway. He was just a beast.

“My, you planted roses? It sounds wonderful. I didn’t know you liked gardening.”

He didn’t. No more than anything else. It was the Witch that had planted them, but somehow he didn’t know how to properly explain it to Michelle.

(Or, at least, he didn’t think he liked gardening, but—)

The woman knelt down next to him, not caring about sullying her pretty green dress, and then with svelte fingers she patted around delicately, searching for the flower. At some point, Bestia decided to help her out, and with his much bigger hands he grabbed hers, pulling them towards the rose.

“Oh my,” she said, her small fingers gently caressing the petals. “It seems very pretty. What color is it?”

She raised her head, and for a minute, Bestia suddenly saw the figure of another person.

Another young woman, with black hair, earnest eyes, covered in mud from head to toes.

“I’m sure they’ll be here when you come back either way.”

“…White.”

“White roses, huh?” Michelle brought her fingers on her lips thoughtfully. “If I recall correctly, they symbolizes purity and loyalty. My mother told me so, once. Meanwhile red roses are for love and passion.”

Bestia wouldn’t know, but somehow, that seemed right.

“Do you… want it?”

“The rose? Oh no. I think flowers are prettier when they’re left alive and in the ground, don’t you think?”

“…Not particularly.”

Michelle chuckled, then looked down, as if trying to look at the flower despite her impaired vision.

“Why did you plant these?”

“Sorry?”

“I mean, there must’ve been a reason, no? Did you plant them for something?”

There was no reason, of course. Bestia hadn’t even really planted them, it had been the Witch. And even the Witch hadn’t seemed to expect for those to really bloom.

He wondered if she was satisfied even just a single one did bloom , wherever she was now. Maybe she hadn’t even noticed it.

But even so, the words left his mouth before he could think over them.

“It was for someone. When she’ll come back.”

Michelle stayed silent at that.

When Bestia came back to the garden the next morning, however…

The white rose the White-Haired Girl had touched had turned red.

6 notes · View notes

taliaxlatia · 2 years

Text

Rating: T Summary: If they are ever to regain the closeness they once had, Xemnas has to find a way to make up for what his former self did to Xigbar. (AKA, stabbing him and turning him into a Nobody.) This would be easier to do if Xigbar wasn't hiding from him. Word Count: 2853 Notes: Apprentice Xehanort uses the name "Another" in Xemnas's memories.

XXX

The World That Never Was fits Xemnas in a way that Radiant Garden never fit Another. The dark sky provides no false promises. The twists and turns of the Castle are as bleak and empty as his hollowed-out mind.

As his hollowed-out body, now.

It’s better this way. It must be.

Even if Braig—Xigbar—can’t understand. Even if his horrified face haunts Xemnas’s dreams.

Xemnas floats a few inches from the floor of the Altar of Naught. There’s no real reason to, except that he can, and he might as well make use of the magic this new state has given him. He had always been slightly envious of Braig’s space-distorting abilities.

“What shall I do, old friend?” Xemnas sighs up at the empty sky.

No moon. No stars. Nothing that should remind Xemnas of him.

And yet.

“Hearts are the source of all misery. This has never been more true than in my own case. Without that burden within me, there is no reason that I should… that I should miss you.”

He shivers, just briefly, from the cold that his new coat can’t ward off. He imagines that a friendly arm slung around his shoulder might provide the warmth that he lacks.

He has no way of testing that hypothesis, however. Even if he were to search the winding halls for his oldest friend, Xigbar would elude him. Xemnas’s wanderings have proven fruitless so far.

“The beginning of this new world… I had hoped to share it with you.” He folds his arms tightly behind his back. “We still share the same goal, do we not? To understand the secrets of the heart… without allowing it power over us. As its power once puppeted even me.”

He clenches a hollow fist over his hollow chest. Though the “heart” is a metaphysical force, its lack stills the drum beneath his ribcage. Nothingness is all that flows through his veins, now.

“Know this. If I had been in full possession of my faculties, I would not have taken you so carelessly.”

If not for the thump-thump-thump, the pressure in his chest, the memories being squeezed into his mind. A life he never lived. A name that wasn’t his, that he’d cast aside long ago.

Xehanort’s name. Xehanort’s heart. Xehanort’s keyblade—

(Stabbing through the chests of his fellow apprentices, of his friends, staring at him with that eye, staring through his soul and cutting him to pieces, sifting him apart nice and neat until he’s no longer Another, just Xehanort and Terra and no one no one no one—

Until Braig’s words slash him like knives. The name they chose together discarded, in favor of Xehanort, Xehanort, Xehanort. Accusations Another can’t refute. Not when he’s barely holding himself together, all spit and glue as the voice in his head laughs, taunts—

“How long did you think you could pretend, boy?”

“Another” is just a vessel. A tool, a shell, a stepping stone from the past into a future he has no say in. The memories he’d worked so hard to understand avalanche around him, until he can’t breathe.

Until that thorned keyblade is piercing Braig’s chest, heedless of Braig’s outstretched hand or the horror in his wide, golden eye. Another’s puppet arms won’t let him catch Braig as he falls. Won’t let him grasp the glowing heart that emerges from his chest.

But Another feels it—a heart stronger than any of those he’s studied. Stronger than Even’s or Ienzo’s, or Aeleus’s or Dilan’s that will come after it. Not overflowing with light or darkness, but packed tightly within its ephemeral container, dense as a neutron star. Holding more something than any life should contain.

And then it’s gone.

Braig is gone.)

Xemnas floats forward to grip the ledge that surrounds the rooftop. He has no fear of falling, but something to hold onto grounds him, so to speak.

If he can just put this into words. If he can just stop reliving that awful moment, that loss of autonomy, that loss of trust…

“I cannot say I would not have taken you,” he murmurs. With the blank sky as his only witness, he may as well speak freely. “It is clear that I could survive my heart no longer. And to enter this new life without you… it would have filled me with terror. If I were capable of feeling such a thing. Regardless, my actions have done nothing to preserve our bond. Is there no way that we can begin anew…?”

The sky doesn’t answer. He is unused to silence, to the lack of quips and laughter. He would even accept shouts filled with anger, if it would blot out this emptiness.

He cannot exist with his heart. He cannot exist without it. What a useless paradox.

“I suppose I should exercise patience. We are the only beings who can comprehend each other. We are nearly on even ground, this time… though I do not wish to think what may happen if you dig up that ground. You know me too well, old friend. You would make a formidable enemy.”

No terror strikes him as he voices the possibilty. Only deep, aching emptiness.

He misses his heart. But, perhaps more than that, he misses his Braig. His Xigbar.

His grip briefly tightens on the ledge.

“With this in mind, I cannot allow your silence to persist. Even if forgiveness is beyond my reach, I must know your intentions. For the sake of our goal.”

He turns away from the endless night, facing back towards the Castle—

And towards Axel, who is sipping on a smoothie.

Xemnas blinks. Axel adjusts his straw, letting out a loud, plastic squeak.

“Huh. Guess this isn’t the bathroom.” Axel looks back and forth. “Yep. No toilets up here. Carry on, Boss.”

He gives a grin and a lazy salute. It is… disorienting, to say the least. Losing his heart seems to have only made the teenager more bold.

Should Xemnas do something? He never said Xigbar’s name aloud, and Axel doesn’t personally know any of the Organization’s members beyond Saix. There is little Axel can do with this information—particularly now that Xemnas is incapable of feeling embarrassment.

Axel heads back to the stairwell before Xemnas can come up with a suitable punishment for eavesdropping—one that would not only incriminate him further.

It is of no importance, then. Xemnas should direct his efforts towards the matter at hand. But where to find Xigbar, when his attempts have proven futile so far?

“Hmm…” Xemnas’s eyes narrow in the direction Axel had left.

Perhaps the younger Nobody’s interruption had been of use after all.

XXX

Nothingness comes to Xemnas’s aid, in the form of a shroud of invisibility. He had tested the spell while walking past Xaldin, and even the attentive ex-guardsman hadn’t noticed Xemnas’s presence.

Now it is Xemnas’s turn to keep guard. He hovers just left of the bathroom door, prepared to wait for as long as the task takes. This is the only bathroom in the Castle that currently has running water—a welcome gift, courtesy of the Dusks who live in the Dark City below. A couple of the creatures had experience with plumbing in their past lives, Lexaeus had told him. There is still much to study about the Nobodies they share this world with. Perhaps they will be the key to the Organization adjusting to their own lack of hearts.

Xemnas’s inability to feel boredom serves him well as he keeps his vigil. Vexen enters and exits the bathroom without looking up from his stack of notes. Losing his heart has done nothing to deter his research, it seems. Other than that, nothing of interest occurs until the door opens from the inside, though Xemnas has not seen anyone else enter since taking up guard thirty minutes ago.

“Rollin’ off the rails on a crazy—oi!” Xigbar sings before plowing directly into Xemnas’s invisible chest. Xigbar bounces backward, gripping the towel at his waist.

The towel. Which, unless you count his eyepatch, happens to be his only raiment.

Hmm. So physical, hormonal reactions were not eliminated with their hearts. He will have to make note of that.

“What in the…?” Xigbar rubs his face, leaving his eyepatch askew.

Muscle memory has been left untainted as well. Xemnas is helpless to fight it as he straightens Xigbar’s eyepatch.

Xigbar lurches back. His expression is blank, unfazed despite everything.

“Seriously, Xemnas? You can’t even let a guy take a shower in peace?”

Xemnas unweaves the cloaking spell. He cannot feel disappointed by Xigbar’s words, but the emptiness grows and grows.

He wants nothing more than to tangle his hands in the coarse hair on Xigbar’s chest. To pull him close, in the hopes that two empty beings might fill each other.

“We need to speak,” he says instead.

“We need to, do we?”

“Please.” The word slips out so quickly, it surprises Xemnas himself.

Xigbar’s brow quirks.

“Heh. Ain’t this rich…” He shakes his head. “Sure, why not. What’s the worst you can do? Kill me again?”

Xemnas opens his mouth, but before he can think of what to say, Xigbar continues.

“You gotta at least let me get some pants on, though.”

Xemnas carefully looks away. He never expected to miss Braig’s crass jokes about undressing.

“Of course.”

Xigbar grips his wrist, just long enough to teleport them both to… Xemnas isn’t sure where. It doesn't appear to be a location within the Castle. The sparsely furnished room looks like the victim of corrupted data—angular bed and dresser clipping into the walls and floor, the texture pattern of the gray carpet repeating in squares ad nauseum. It’s difficult to look at.

Xemnas looks through the window for refuge, and sees the Dark City’s towering skyscraper. Garish cyan and chartreuse flicker across the screens at its top—

(Braig carrying Another to bed, his eyelids fluttering to read the end of his report before Braig gently pulls it from his hand.)

(Braig teaching him to shoot his mysterious weapons, laughing loud and deep when Another clips one of Dilan’s sideburns instead of the target.)

(Braig’s empty form beneath him as Another falls, the traitorous heart finally torn from his own chest. Together, one last time.)

“Man. For someone who wanted to talk so bad, you’ve sure clammed up.”

Xemnas turns back to Xigbar, who had donned his black trousers while Xemnas was distracted. He’s still shirtless. Xemnas wonders if this is some sort of intentional punishment.

“My apologies.” He licks his lips absently. “The view is quite… distracting.”

“Beats that gloomy Castle, for sure.” Xigbar snorts. “If I had a bathroom in this place, you’d never catch me going up there.”

So that’s how Xigbar had managed to elude him for so long. If not for the plumbing situation, would Xemnas ever have seen Xigbar again?

He doesn’t want to think about that.

“I have missed you,” Xemnas admits while leaning against the windowsill.

Those are the wrong words, judging by Xigbar’s disbelieving cackle.

“I’ll buy that. Your aim was always pretty lousy.” He snickers. “Now, why don’t you cut the crap and tell me what you actually want?”

Xemnas turns to face him, fighting through the pangs of nothingness in his chest.

“I have never been more serious, Xigbar. What came to pass in Radiant Garden…”

Xigbar steps forward, jabbing Xemnas’s chest with his index finger.

“What ‘came to pass’? You ripped out my heart, Xemnas. I was kind of using that, y’know.”

Xemnas closes his eyes, letting the full brunt of Xigbar’s feigned anger wash over him. It’s better than nothing.

“I know,” he whispers.

Xemnas had wanted that heart. Braig’s heart, with all the heady emotions swirling within. Now thanks to his hubris, it’s forever out of reach.

“I should have stopped. I should have listened to you, about the dangers of my true memories. You were never meant to pay the price for my mistakes.”

He opens his eyes to see Xigbar blink.

“That sounds suspiciously like an apology,” Xigbar says slowly.

“It… is.” The words scratch in his throat, and he swallows.

Pride had gotten him into this situation. Casting it aside is the only way he can escape.

“I’m not Xehanort. This I swear on my nonexistence. But, when I unlocked his key… his portion of my heart gained control.”

(Teaching him a lesson about what comes from getting attached. Ripping away the few connections Another had made. Hollowing out vessels for a plan Another doesn’t understand.)

(Leaving him no choice but to hollow out himself.)

Xigbar frowns and scratches the side of his face.

“I ever tell you how I got these?” He asks, gesturing to his scar and eyepatch.

The question catches Xemnas off guard. As much as he would like to continue the current subject, the forbidden information is too tantalizing to pass up.

“No. You did not.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so. Seemed kinda rude to make ya feel guilty for something you couldn’t even remember.”

Xigbar plops down on his bed, making it clip into the floor briefly before rising to support his weight. Xemnas takes a tentative step towards him.

“I… did that…?”

“Eh. Depends on who you count as ‘you.’” Xigbar laces his fingers behind his head, kicks his bare feet up on the footboard. “The old man used me as bait, pretty much. Got Terra to let his darkness loose on my face. Worst makeover I’ve ever had, that’s for sure.”

Xemnas can’t feel guilt. Maybe that’s why Xigbar waited until now to tell him.

He wishes he could, though. He wishes it wasn’t too late to make things right.

“I am sorry,” he says, regardless.

“I’m not looking for apologies. The point is, this ain’t the first time I’ve been collateral damage. My own fault I keep sticking my hand in the snake’s den, right?”

“No.” Xemnas sits at the edge of Xigbar’s bed. If Xigbar doesn’t want him there, he’s more than capable of moving. “You trusted me. You gave me a second chance at life, and in return, I stole yours.”

“‘Trust’ is kind of a heavy word. I was just curious, that’s all.”

“...I see.” Xemnas slumps a bit.

“Well, at first, anyway.” Xigbar sighs. He sits up, crossing his legs beneath him. “Look. I believe you—about not meaning to kill me, I mean. I can’t think of any other explanation that makes sense. But ya can’t blame a guy for still being wary, y’know?”

Of course. Of course it would not be that simple.

“I know.”

“I mean, how do I know the old man isn’t gonna puppet ya around again?”

“Because I tore him out.”

Xigbar starts. Was he not aware that Xemnas is a Nobody, as well? Or does he think that Xemnas lied about his missing emotions, for his own personal gain?

“Prove me, if you desire.” Xemnas gestures to his own chest.

“Ah. I see how it is.” A familiar twinkle returns to Xigbar’s eye. “You still can’t get enough of me, huh?”

Without blood, Xemnas is physically incapable of blushing. His face feels cold, rather than warm, as the void in his veins tries to flush his cheeks.

“I am only trying to provide you with the most convincing evidence.”

“Sure you are.”

Xigbar blips into Xemnas’s lap. Xemnas holds his breath, not daring to move, lest he accidentally push his friend away again.

“Alright. Let's have a look-see.” Xigbar unzips the front of Xemnas’s coat, only to groan at the black undershirt beneath. “Oh, come on. If you really wanted to get back together, I thought you would slut it up a little.”

Xemnas makes a choking noise. Not out of embarrassment, of course—he cannot be embarrassed any longer. But it would be impolite to leave Xigbar’s teasing without some sort of reaction.

“Does that mean… you would be willing?” he asks quietly.

Xigbar hums as he removes his gloves, exposing cold hands that he slips beneath Xemnas’s undershirt. Xemnas shivers, trying not to lean into the touch too desperately.

“I’m doin’ some considering.” Xigbar grins.

His hands splay across Xemnas’s chest, in a way that once made his heart thump, thump, thump. The silence leaves space for Xigbar’s uneven breathing.

“May I… consider… as well?” Xemnas asks, gaze flickering to Xigbar’s bare chest.

“Ever the gentleman.” He laughs. “I should say no, after all the hell you put me through, but… well, I’d be lying if I said becoming a Nobody didn’t make you even easier on the eyes. …That’s one of the reasons I was ignoring you, actually.”

Xemnas sits up a bit straighter, practically purring. “Really?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. Not real fair of you to kill me and look hotter about it.” Xigbar scowls.

His hands untangle from beneath Xemnas’s shirt. He’s getting some mixed signals, here.

At least, until Xigbar squirms in his lap, ending up straddling Xemnas’s hips.

“Now, are you gonna make it up to me or not?”

Xemnas doesn’t waste time removing his shirt before pulling Xigbar’s face to his.

#xigxem #xigbar #xemnas #kingdom hearts #fic tag #tali writes #forgot to crosspost this here

13 notes · View notes