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#the wind and the sun and the sand and the sea
honeymaki · 10 months
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What about fairies that live around rock pools and tide pools and dance in the moonlight and collect pearly shell fragments to use as dinner plates and have stained glass wings with sea weed for dresses and crabs as pets, and sing into their reflections and kiss their siren sisters on the cheeks for good luck and tickle the limpets and lead little girls to the best spots for seeing starfish and who leave hide in the sea foam and play in the early morning waves and sometimes visit their neighbours who live in the rivers and ponds that feed into the sea ☆*゚¨゚゚・*:..゙
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nedpng · 6 months
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currently sobbing in the corner of my office because i randomly started missing my cat
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chillyfeetsteak · 5 months
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I first became fascinated with it a few years ago when I noticed it out an airplane window on a flight from Texas to Southern California. In an expanse of endless desert, suddenly, a vast body of water. When I got home, I immediately looked it up on a map. The Salton Sea.
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It’s the largest landlocked body of water in California. It sits right on top of the San Andreas Fault at over 200 feet below sea level. It is more than twice as salty as the Pacific Ocean. It is completely toxic. And I had never heard of it before then.
(photo essay under the cut)
In the early 1900s the Colorado River was diverted through a series of irrigation canals in order to provide water for the farmlands of Imperial Valley. One of the head-gates broke during a flood, and the desert basin filled with water for 2 years before it was fixed. The unexpected lake soon became a popular vacation destination; it was stocked with fish, and resorts and hotels popped up along its shores. It became known as a great place for sport fishing, waterskiing, and yacht parties. Big name celebrities visited. At one point, it had more annual visitors than Yosemite.
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Salton Sea has no outlet, and is only filled via agricultural runoff. As the water evaporated in the hot desert sun, the lake became more and more saline. Chemicals began to build up from the run off causing toxic algae blooms, and mass die-offs of fish and birds started in the 80s. By the 90s, the beaches were littered with fish gills and bird bones and the resorts were abandoned. The lake began to dry up as irrigation run-off was diverted away. The exposed lake bed is also toxic, and the high desert winds kick up the dust, making the air poisonous. 
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Despite the unpleasant odor, the noxious air and the summer temperatures regularly reaching 120°, a renaissance of sorts began in the early 2010s. Artist and nomad colonies began to spring up around Salton Sea. Bombay Beach, once a popular resort destination, is now mostly a ghost town, but the folks who remain have turned the ruins on the shores into an outdoor art installation gallery where the found-art sculptures are cyclically destroyed by the elements and then replaced with new ones. Many of the houses and RVs in town are themselves art pieces.
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In nearby Slab City, a settlement of off-the-grid lifestylers, you can find even more folk art. Salvation Mountain is a manmade hill painted with bright colors and bible verses and maintained by a community of volunteers. East Jesus is a sculpture garden and art installation. 
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This past weekend my partner and I finally made the pilgrimage to the Sea. California has the benefit of being home to a huge array of biomes. In just a couple of hours you can travel from snowy mountain peaks to lush oases to endless sand dunes. Driving the hour or so south from Palm Springs towards Salton Sea is like driving towards the end of the world.
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Bombay Beach especially enamored me. The beach is crusted with salt and millions of tiny shells and bones. It smells awful, like sewage and chemicals and low-tide and rotting fish. You drive out onto the beach and park anywhere amongst the sculptures and deteriorating resort ruins. The art feels raw in a way I haven’t experienced before. It reminds me of seeing paleolithic cave art. Humans made this, with no motivation other than to create something intriguing or beautiful or sad. Not much can live out here, but what you find fills me with a great adoration for humanity. Despite the asphyxiation of the natural world, the human spirit persists.
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writers-potion · 2 months
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Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.
Common Scenery Description Tips
Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:
How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.
How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?
Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells
(If you have the POV character) what 
Some other tips for setting description:
Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader. 
Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another” 
Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on. 
If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once. 
That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:
Forests/Mountains
Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray
Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering
Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose  
Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned
Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit
Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling
Mountains having faces, etc. 
Seas
Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise
Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous
Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic
Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating
Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting
Deserts
Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek
Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs
Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion
Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…
Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger
Streets
Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail
Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady
The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.
The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.
The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.
In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.
Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.
Parties
Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:
Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with. 
Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details. 
Don’t try to describe everything. 
whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.
It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.
The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.
Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.
It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.
Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.
The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.
Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.
The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.
It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.
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themidnightcrimson · 2 months
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the scarlet siren ࿏ wm
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summary: in which you take a trip out to sea that you will regret.
words: 6.0k
warnings: siren!wanda, dubcon/noncon, fingering (r receiving), oral (r receiving), size kink, biting, a lot of blood, violence, fear, suspense, drowning, deep water, mentions of death, i wrote this in an irish accent for some reason, did you know i have thalassophobia?
this is a dark!fic for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.
masterlist.
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Fishing was competitive these days. It was a bad winter and an even worse famine, and with beef and poultry no longer in the shops, the villagers were forced to turn to the shore to fish.
Your little village was nestled on a plateau of land that stuck out into the cold sea. The shore was lined with big, black rocks that had tumbled down from the looming hills over time and landed at the water’s edge with only a thin strip of grainy brown sand between them and the water. Travelling down to the shore over all those rocks was already hard enough, but it was even harder when you had to carry your boat on your back.
People had tried to carve trails through all the rock to make the beaches more accessible, but with all the storms that the area faced, the rocks just got tussled back around and demolished any trails attempted.
In fact, it had just stormed the night before. It pissed rain and spit wind so hard that people woke up to holes in their roofs. Naturally, the beach was all torn up from it, but it would always clean itself up and go back to the way it was at some point before another storm came along. And while most people were at their cottages fixing the storm’s damage, you saw this early dawn as a prime opportunity to fish.
Fish had also been scarce recently because of all the people turning to the water for food sources, but you knew that the previous night’s storm had tussled the waters, which meant the fish were probably scurrying all around. The sun hadn’t even risen yet as you dragged your wooden boat down the rocks in the dim dawn hue, the wood scraping loudly against the rock’s hard and bumpy surface.
Managing to get down the rocks without twisting your ankle, you finally plopped down into the pebbly sand with a huff of breath, pushing your boat off your back. This was only half of your journey, though, because you weren’t even going to fish here on the beach like most people did.
Adjusting the leather strap around your neck that was holding your oars to your back, you dragged your boat through the damp sand to the rickety wooden dock that stood beside the lighthouse. The lighthouse was even more rickety, since no one bothered to upkeep it since this beach was the worst beach for ships to come in at. They almost always hit the rocks because of how deep the water dropped off from the shore and how thin the strip of sand was.
You pulled your boat to the very end of the dock and then threw the oars down in it, and then your bag of fishing gear, along with your pole. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself as you began pushing the single person-sized boat into the water. When it finally was fully in the water, you quickly jumped into it, causing a splash and a stressful cracking sound as you struggled for a moment to catch your balance. Finally, you sat down in the boat and let it settle before getting your oars and rowing yourself towards your destination.
There was a little cove area almost like an island to the east of the plateau of land. It was your favorite spot to fish because hardly anyone knew about it. It was barely visible from the shore even during a normal day, but it was completely out of sight on this extremely foggy, dark morning. The fog became more and more dense the further you rowed out into the water, until finally you were completely blinded.
“Fucking hell,” you murmured, reaching into your bag for your compass. The fog had completely surrounded you now to the point where you couldn’t even see the front bow of your boat. It was getting colder further into sea, too. Though the air above was tolerable, you couldn’t imagine how cold the water below felt.
The salty, wet air clogged your nose as you finally felt the cold round of metal in your hand, bringing your compass out of your bag. Sniffling from the cold air, you tried to adjust and read your compass when you suddenly heard something behind you—a voice.
Gasping, you whipped around to look behind you but only saw the thick white of fog. The voice had been shrill and steady, calling out some sort of smooth singsong noise that echoed over the water.
And then you heard it again, clear as day, right in front of you.
Snapping back around, you still could see nothing but the fog, yet the voice was still echoing all around you. It was a single note drawn out, not quite a shout or a scream, just an eerie note drawn out through the fog. Chills overcame you, but not from the cold.
Setting your compass down on the boat’s bottom, you grabbed your oars and began to quickly row towards the east. The fog seemed to be squeezing in on you now, some of it even spilling over the edge of the boat like thick smoke. Your heart was pounding—you couldn’t see where you were going, and you could still hear the voice in the back of your head. You wanted to get to the cove fast.
Suddenly, the wooden oar in your left hand stopped against something. You paused and looked over—you weren’t even able to see the paddle of the oar, only the handle you held. You tried to move the oar, but it wouldn’t budge. What could it be stuck on? Even though you couldn’t see, you knew you weren’t at the cove by now, and you were still heading east so you hadn’t drifted back to the plateau. These waters were so deep, there certainly was nothing your oar could be stuck in.
It was when something tugged your oar right out of your hand that you shrieked and jumped so hard that the boat rocked, icy water splashing onto your legs. With your left oar gone, you quickly used your right oar to haphazardly row forward, having to switch it over to the left side to keep going straight, more of the cold water splattering over you. Though you were crippled now with only one oar, you were so afraid that you rowed even faster than you normally would with two oars.
Though your arms ached, you kept rowing as fast as you could until finally the fog started to thin out. You were starting to break out of whatever thick cloud of sea fog you had been stuck in. It felt like you could breathe again when finally you pushed forward completely out of the fog, letting your tired arms go limp as you looked behind you at the cloud of fog. You searched for the silhouette of another boat but saw nothing. What the hell had grabbed your oar?
Turning back around and taking a deep breath, you swiped your forehead with the back of your wrist—now your body was so hot it was steaming in the cold air. Looking ahead, you could finally see the cove just a little ways away.
Glancing to either side of you, you saw nothing but black water. These waters were always dark, mostly because of the black rock and black mud, but it was completely opaque now. All you could see was reflections of the dim grey sky above you and your own face distorted in the lapping water. You wondered what was below it—something that now had your oar, certainly. Shaking your head to rid yourself of the paranoid thoughts, you rowed on to the cove.
The cove was a U-shaped island that looked like a fragmented piece of the plateau your village was on—all black, rocky shores with limited sand, a cluster of dark, woody trees behind it that shielded it from the nothingness of the sea. The shape of the U was wide enough that the cove water leading up to the center of land was deep enough for fish to live. It was the perfect fishing spot, especially the further one went into the cove so that the island’s rocks and trees surrounded them.
Finally, you got to your favorite spot tucked further into the U shape where you were surrounded by the island, and you rowed your boat carefully until it was finally still. You glanced around the island—it was a little spooky in the foggy, dark morning. The trees were blackened, fog stuck all in them. The big rocks were an even darker black from the wet morning, and where there was usually a strip of sand, there was only a bunch of pebbles and rocks that must have been pushed onto shore from the storm. Sometimes, you would sit on the sand and enjoy the quiet alone, but you couldn’t imagine sitting on all those rocky pebbles.
You set up your fishing pole and cast it into the black water, setting the pole against the side of the boat while you opened your fishnet and made it ready for fish. You had even brought a little breakfast along—a pathetic piece of bread with a slice of cheese. Holding the end of your pole between your feet, you relaxed against the boat and ate your bread and cheese.
It took a minute before you got your first bite, bringing up a thick, silvery fish out of the water and tossing it into your net before recasting your pole. You were able to get three fish before suddenly they just stopped biting.
“For fucks’ sake,” you cursed like a sailor, bringing up your pole out of the water to see that something had taken the worm off the hook, even though you didn’t feel a fish bite. “Greedy fuckers. I’m tryin’ to eat, too.” You took another worm from your bowl of bait and stuck it onto the hook.
And then you heard it again.
It was the same shrill voice, but this time, it sounded like an eerie, angelic song. You froze. The voice lilted, echoing through the trees of the cove. This time, it wasn’t just a single note—it was words you could barely make out, but they were there.
Voda glubokaya i golubaya..
Your breath hitched in your throat. You lifted your head, eyes wide, and slowly looked around, seeing nothing but the black faces of the rocks and trees looking back at you.
Ya smotryu na tebya svoimi krasivymi glazami.
The voice was beautiful, etching out every syllable of the foreign language like poetry. It echoed over the waters in a whisper, filling your ears like honey. You held your breath. You wanted to ask who was there, who was singing, but there was a buzzing sensation through your body like fear, but something different. It was like the voice was reaching through your ears and into your brain, its angelic fingers scratching and poking and twisting your brain around until you were in a dumb daze.
It was when you noticed something in the corner of your eye that your fear came through more prominently. The water, black and opaque, to the side of your boat was rippling with motion. It wasn’t the bubbles of a fish. It wasn’t movement from your still boat. The water rippled from one end of your boat to the other, pausing between ripples like something was swimming right there. But you couldn’t see anything.
Your lungs ached as your breathing picked up, yet you stayed completely still. You watched the water ripple around the bow of your boat, and down the other side. It was circling you, and it was entirely too large to be a fish.
Podoydi blizhe, i ya ispolnyu tvoye zhelaniye.
The voice came again, filtering through the cove’s forest, over the rocks, right into your ears. You don’t know why, but you found yourself slowly leaning over the boat’s edge, peering into the black water that rippled as something swam below it. Your vision became hazy. Your skin felt numb all over. Your heart pounded dangerously fast.
Podoydi blizhe i ya tebya potseluyu.
You barely processed the sound of something brushing the side of your boat before you felt the hard vibration of something hitting the underside of your boat, something big enough to rock it.
“Woah!” you cried out, grabbing the sides of the rocking boat. You tried to get to your feet, but something hit the underside of your boat again, and it tipped over.
You had never felt such cold. The splash of your body hitting the water, and then the water flooding your ears, deafened you like the sound of glass shattering from inside your head. It struck your entire body like lighting—pure, icy shock and arctic pain. It almost felt like your bones cracked upon impact like a frozen branch falling off a cliff.
You couldn’t move as your body sank under the freezing black water. You opened your eyes, felt the cold freeze over your eyeballs. You saw nothing at first and wondered if you were dead, or even worse, struck blind from the freezing water. When you could finally see dim light filtering through the water, as much light as the cloudy early morning could give, you realized you weren’t blind. But the water was so cold, too cold to move. You tried to move your arms and legs, but you felt stiffened, shot with pain.
As you stared into the sea of black and tried to clench your frozen muscles, you saw a shadow forming in the water beyond. You could do nothing but watch with fear as the shadow formed into an unrecognizable silhouette.
Quickly, you glanced up and could see the shadow of your boat flipped upside down on the water’s surface above you. You didn’t realize how deep down you were. Even if your body was working again, it would take a minute for you to reach your boat.
You looked back in front of you. The shadow was closer now. You attempted to flail your arms and were able to move them a little. You screamed through your closed mouth, your lungs burning for air.
The shadow came into the glare of light in the water, and your scream intensified.
It was a woman, or something like it. A woman’s head, and neck, and chest, and torso, and waist, but right where her hips stopped, something else started. Where her thighs would have been separated and covered with skin, they were welded together and covered with scales. It was some sort of a fish tail attached to where the lower half of her body should’ve been. Instead of skin and legs, she was dark red and black scales on a long tail with a finned end that gently undulated in the water to keep her floating. Her tail almost sparkled in the light. It was so dark, but you could see hints of a deep ruby color between the dark scales. Her chest was bare along with the rest of her upper body. Her hair, a dark brown with reddish tint, bowed above her head in the shape of an obsidian flame. Her arms floated beside her elegantly, and you noticed her fingertips were black.
Then there were her eyes. A deep red like the color of her tail. Too much white between the bottom curve of her pupils and her lower lashes. Darkened around the lids with some sort of black paint. Even in the darkness of the water, the red of her irises caught you. Even in the fear, there was beauty. She was haunting, and her eyes stared you down like you were her food.
A mermaid, you thought. You’d only ever heard of them when the sailors of your town made it back from faraway fishing trips. Everyone had chocked the stories up to oceanic hallucination, but now here you were, face to face with one.
And then she smiled. And her teeth were ivory white, and in the middle of where there were some human teeth, there was rows of sharp fangs like blades. Her smile was uncanny, unsettling, evil.
And then you realized she wasn’t a mermaid.
Another choked, muffled scream bellowed out from your burning chest when she darted forward. You could feel the vibrations in the water when she swished her tail in a boast of strength, her hair darting behind her as she surged forward through the water with ease. Her eyes seemed to darken.
Screaming as much as you could underwater, you suddenly found that your muscles had defrosted with your fear. You swam upwards, kicking and thrashing as much as you could, your body fatigued from the cold and the lack of oxygen. Your muscles burned and quivered as you overworked them, your lungs aching, your throat burning, vision growing dark until finally you burst above the surface, gulping down a large breath of air and several more after that.
You didn’t have much time to breathe because you became aware that the siren was still below you. Looking around, you saw that your boat had floated too far away, and the nearest place you could go was the shoreline several yards away.
Before you could make a break for the shore, you noticed how quiet everything was. The siren could have easily grabbed you by now. You tried to look into the water that splashed up on your chin, but it was still black. A soft mist came down from the bleary sky, further wetting your head.
What if she was right below your feet where they kicked obscurely in the water? What if she grabbed you and dragged you down? Just the mere thought made you start to slowly float your way towards the shore. Maybe the siren was just like a shark, and it was only sudden movement that made her attack.
You kept slowly swimming backwards, craning your head all around to get a comprehensive view of the water’s surface around you. There was nothing. No swishing of water at your feet. No ripples on the surface except the ones you caused. Not even any bubbles.
Was she gone? Had she decided you weren’t worth the trouble? Or were you just hallucinating? Maybe this was the oceanic hallucinations everyone said sailors had. Maybe all that fog had made you paranoid.
Your body was rocking with how icy the water was, though you just felt numb now. You looked behind you at the island, wondering if you could seek shelter in the trees until someone came looking for you, or maybe you could make some sort of flotation device out of something. That was silly. Your best bet would be to go back to your boat and hand-paddle your way back home.
As you turned your head back around towards the direction of your boat, you gasped and froze.
There the siren was. Only the upper half of her head was above the water. You saw her hair, much more reddish now in the light, slick to her head. Her forehead, speckled with droplets of water. Her red eyes that seemed to reflect a glare of red on the surface of the water in front of her. Beyond that, only the bridge of her nose, the end of it under the surface. She was completely still, as if she was standing on flat ground. She was only maybe two feet away from you.
“P-p-p-p,” you tried to speak, but your body was convulsing from the cold, your lips numb and blue. “Please,” you whispered in a croak. It was getting hard to breathe as the harsh cold invaded your blood. You were begging for your life because, in the haze of your hypothermia, you recognized those eyes.
You’d heard stories from the village sailors about a particular siren. You’d seen her image sketched in books. Always those red eyes, that red tail. This wasn’t a mermaid, and she wasn’t just a siren. She was the deadliest ocean creature that all the myths and legends described. She’d instilled fear in children of your parent’s and even your grandparent’s generations just through stories of her malice. She commanded every corner of the seas, and sailors who were superstitious enough always kept an eye out for her during their voyages, lest she take them down.
She wasn’t a mermaid. She wasn’t just a siren.
She was the Scarlet Siren.
Somehow, she knew you recognized her. Maybe it was the look on your face, or the way you froze. She stretched her lips open in a charming yet malicious smile. And then slowly, inch by inch, she slipped under the water.
Letting out a choked scream, you quickly turned back towards the shore and started to swim. Your heart felt like it was going to rip right out of your chest if the Scarlet Siren didn’t do it first.
When you were halfway towards the shore, thrashing the water and letting out choked breaths, you suddenly felt hands grab your ankles and yank you beneath the surface.
You thrashed under the water, your long hair coming undone and floating around your face as you watched the Scarlet Siren come closer to you. You kicked at her so hard that your shoes came off your feet, your foot hitting her tail and feeling the fishy scales there.
The Siren’s hands were climbing up your body, grabbing at your coat and pulling it off as you spiraled in the water, trying to get out of her hold. Finally, you were able to kick her tail hard enough that the force sent you popping above the surface like a fish. You were able to take one gasp of air before she pulled you right back down again.
This time, the Siren growled and nosedived towards your waist, her teeth clamping down on the fabric of your shirt. You squealed as she ripped your shirt off with her teeth, the fabric so easily tearing. The blades of her teeth had caught the skin of your belly, four long scratches bleeding through your pale skin, the blood clouding in the water. The Siren paused at the sight of your blood diffusing in the water, distracted enough for you to kick her in the face so hard that she turned downwards in the water.
You took your chance to swim, popping up through the surface and pushing yourself harder than ever. The shore was right in front of you. Your body ached and the skin of your stomach stung, but you kept going until finally your fingers touched black rock.
Coughing up water, you lifted your body onto the pebbly surface, the blood from the scratches finally able to drip down your skin, the red following the lines of water on your waist. You flopped onto your back and pulled yourself more onto the shore.
You knew it wasn’t over. The Siren’s head popped out of the water, and her hands grabbed your ankles again. You cried out and tried to kick, but she held your legs down as she lifted herself completely out of the water.
You watched the Scarlet Siren crawl over you, her strong arms planting down in the rocks on either side of your head, entrapping you. The shockingly heavy weight of her tail crushed your legs down on the rock, the smell of ocean filling your nostrils. It felt like the end of your life. You thought to yourself, as the Siren laid herself over you, that this was what rabbits felt like with dogs. This is what lambs felt like with lions. Birds with cats. Fish with fishermen. Sailors with sirens.
“Now, what’s a pretty girl like yourself doing all alone out on these waters, hmm?” Her voice was shockingly heavenly, smooth like butter and sweet like a bird’s song. It caught you off guard and somehow made you more afraid. There was also some sort of foreign accent laced in her words, somewhat Slavic. How could a monster like herself look so beautiful and sound so sweet?
You could only make incoherent noises as you watched the Siren’s tail start to morph. It ripped itself apart, and the scales sunk inwards, and the flesh shaped itself into the shape of a human woman’s legs, and pale skin etched itself over them. She was now the sight of a fully human woman, naked and lain over you, except for her razor teeth and red demonic eyes and murderous intent.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked more seriously, her eyes flickering over you. Her underwater tactics left you in only a brassiere and fisherman pants.
You were shaking from the cold, but her body felt surprisingly warm on yours. Fear had overcome you, leaving you dumb and pathetic.
“Please d-don’t kill me,” you cried, tears rushing down your cheeks.
“You didn’t answer me, detka,” she continued calmly, bringing a hand to your chin and holding it. Her skin felt inhumanly smooth. “Do you know who I am?”
Breathing heavily, you squeezed your eyes shut. “The S-Scarlet Siren.”
The Siren puckered her lips. “What a demeaning term. My scales are more maroon, don’t you think? My name is Wanda.” She paused, pressing the pad of her thumb into the dimple on your chin. “What’s your name, pretty girl?”
You didn’t answer. She trailed her hand down your stomach, smearing the blood there before she grabbed hold of your pants. Sitting back on her knees, she started to yank them down. Instinctively, you fought her, trying to kick her away.
“Stop!” you screamed loud enough that a few birds from the forest cawed and fluttered. The Siren pursed her lips and used her strength to pull your pants off, but you flopped onto your stomach like a fish and started frantically crawling away.
“Stop it, human,” she growled, grabbing the back of your thighs and dragging you back down the rocks. Using the opportunity, she ripped the last of your clothing off, your brassiere, and threw it to the side. Grabbing you by your wet hair, she turned you back onto your back and lowered down. You were face-to-face with her now, about to try and push her off until she opened her mouth.
Voda glubokaya i golubaya.
YA smotryu na tebya svoimi krasivymi glazami.
Podoydi blizhe, i ya ispolnyu tvoye zhelaniye.
Podoydi blizhe i ya tebya potseluyu.
It was the song you’d heard earlier, before your boat tipped. But as she sang it this time, that buzzing feeling within you grew stronger. Her honey-like voice lilted in your ears as she sang, and you found yourself leaning upwards. Her red eyes, glowing now, watched you tremble as you weakly lifted yourself, your own eyes growing wide as she entranced you. You were very easy for her.
Smiling through her song, she snaked her arm under your waist and easily lifted you up, pressing your bare body to hers. You were so cold against her, so feeble and weak. Your eyes trained on her lips, your irises glowing red from her magic flowing within you. She could feel your mind breaking down, letting her in, growing weaker and weaker. Finally, you closed your eyes and leaned up to kiss her. The Siren held your head with her large hand and kissed you softly, her lips smooth and slippery.
Her song was how she got her victims, but her kiss was how she trapped them. You were under her will now.
Breaking the kiss slowly, the Siren laid you gently back down on the rock. “It’s much easier when you’re calmer, detka. Now, tell me your name.”
“Y/n,” you whispered inaudibly, but the Siren’s ears were trained enough to hear you.
“Y/n,” she repeated in her lilting voice, smiling with her sharp teeth. “You’re the prettiest one I’ve ever caught, y/n.”
Her eyes raked down your limp body that she held in her arm, her free hand pressing against the bloody scratches on your tummy. She gathered some of your blood on her blackened finger and lifted it up to her mouth, sucking your blood off her long finger. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head like a reptile.
Though you felt paralyzed, there was still some consciousness left in your head. You were starting to realize that there was a reason sailors didn’t let their women on their boats, and that the reason was hovering over you.
“You’re right, beautiful girl,” she purred, “But don’t even think about those other human women. You’re the best one of them all.” Her voice had an edge of malice, and it was sickening to hear it through the sweet, complimentary tone.
Her red eyes flickered back to the scratches on your tummy, and she leaned down, letting her long, snaky tongue slither out of her mouth and onto the scratches, licking up your blood. Her breath fanned over the expanse of your stomach, covered in goosebumps. Her hands gripped either side of your ribcage as she grazed her mouth over your stomach, landing on a spot off to the side before digging her teeth into your flesh.
“Ah!” you screamed out, feeling all the blades of her teeth stab into you. She let go, revealing a bloody bite mark on your torso.
“So sweet and fresh,” she growled.
A particular wave of water came up aggressively onto the shore, rolling over her ankles and causing scales to appear before the water receded and human skin covered it again.
The Siren moved to your chest, her large hand grabbing one of your tits and squeezing while she rolled her long, thin tongue over your nipple, her siren eyes flashing up at you. You squirmed, whimpering from the pain but also from another uncontrollable emotion. You were entranced by her, under her will, and had no control over any feeling she gave you emotionally or physically.
Moving her mouth to your other breast, she sunk her teeth into the mound of flesh, causing you to cry out again. You attempted to lift your arms to fight back, but she quickly snatched them and pinned them to the sharp rocks.
Voda glubokaya i golubaya.
YA smotryu na tebya svoimi krasivymi glazami.
Podoydi blizhe, i ya ispolnyu tvoye zhelaniye.
Podoydi blizhe i ya tebya potseluyu.
She sang again, her voice filling you as she gave you more bites between each lyric, blood now dripping down your sides. You were dizzy, from the blood or the trance or the entire situation, and helpless. Your blood was smeared across the entire lower half of her face, dripping from her chin, staining her razor teeth as she grinned. It was so strange, seeing a monstrous look on such a seductive, beautiful woman.
When the Siren glided her tongue down the center of your stomach, you felt a twitch within you. When her hands gripped your hips and scratched downward, coming to grab your tender thighs and spread them open, you obliged. You felt hotter now, as if steam would start rising out of your body into the cold air. There were already billows of fog coming out of your lips with each breath.
“Such a delicate angel,” the Siren purred at you as she lowered her body down. As she settled her elbows over your thighs, her legs tucked back into the water. The waves gushed over her bottom and onto her lower back, and when it receded, she had a tail again, halfway resting in the water, the crimson fin on the very end flipping up in the water instinctively.
You were naked, bleeding on the rocks, being overtaken by a Siren, the Scarlet Siren no less, but you felt overcome with a pleasurable sensation. It was a mix between drunken and sexual as the Siren licked her tongue over your thighs.
When she had you to a point of gyrating your hips for her, she finally put her mouth over your core, sucking on your sensitive nub immediately. You cried out, grabbing onto rocks as she suckled on you, causing arousal to already slowly gush out of you.
Her tongue was long and thin and bumpy, so when she lapped it over your slit and then pushed it deep inside you, you nearly went blind. She snaked her tongue in and out of her, her hands grabbing your thighs harshly as she forced your legs open wider, moaning onto your clit. She seemed hungry, ravenous, as she devoured you, and you felt the terrifying hardness of the very edge of her teeth almost hitting your sensitive skin every once in a while. You could tell that she had done this before, and you wondered what number you were going to be in the list of women she had killed.
“Ah!” you cried out, feeling yourself coming close already. The feeling was something entirely different, and before you knew it, you were clenching around her tongue and crying out, your body arching off the rocks.
“So delicious,” the Siren hissed when she retracted her tongue, staying where she was between your legs while you panted and squirmed. “And so tight.”
Without warning, she placed four fingers in a row at your entrance. You swallowed hard, your consciousness breaking through a little to fight back by thrashing around. You tried to close your legs, but she was amazingly strong.
The Scarlet Siren opened her mouth to sing her song, and you relaxed involuntarily. You could only scream when she forced four of her fingers into you. The pain was dizzying, along with all the blood you’d lost, and you were halfway unconscious as she stretched your cunt out around her fingers, forcing you to take all four of her unnaturally long digits. Your walls resisted, but she kept thrusting, lapping up any arousal and blood along the way. She bit into your thigh, rubbed her face in the wound and curled her fingers inside you, watching you tremble and squirm dumbly.
You finally started to come to when the pain went away, pleasure taking over. The stretch felt otherworldly, her tongue flicking your clit and lapping at it, fingers pumping deep and hard into you so that it was all you could feel. Besides the gentle waves of the water near you, all you could hear was the squelching noises that she committed on you. She devoured you and fucked you eagerly, hungrily, like an animal, becoming more and more carnal the more she had of you.
When your second climax crashed over you and you convulsed uncontrollably, whimpering and screaming and thrashing, the Siren chuckled victoriously between your thighs.
When the climax left you, your body dropped limp on the rocks. Your vision went blurry, and all you could see was red eyes hovering over you staring at you, and the dark crimson of blood on her face.
“You did so good, detka,” she lilted, caressing your cheek with her soft hand. “I think I’ll keep you.”
Fortunately for you, you could feel nothing but bliss. It was the Siren’s entrancement on you that made you feel heavenly as she took hold of one of your ankles and dragged you into the water like a dead fish, swimming away into the black and taking you with her.
Your abandoned boat still floated upside down a ways off from the shore. The cloud of fog was still on the sea’s surface, crowding into the cove. The water washed away your blood from the rocks.
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astraystayyh · 8 months
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you're in the wind, i'm in the water
hyunjin x reader. friends to lovers with a pinch of unrequited love (it's very much requited dw). this is pure brainrot so suggestive at the end. but also fluffy and soft. also reader wears a two piece swimsuit.
a.n: again, sanest response i could have to this hyune. please enjoy my descent to madness :) also the last scene is heavily inspired by my favorite dialogue in the song of achilles!!
pt. 2- orange
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The first time you went on a vacation with Hyunjin’s family, you were only seven years old.
You don't clearly remember the island his parents took you to, the details of the travel elusive to your memory's grasp. But you remember Hyunjin- his hair darkening under the touch of the saline sea, akin to a night sky devoid of its stars. You remember the dimple on his left cheek- the sheer pride in you each time you managed to bring it to light. And you remember thinking that Hyunjin was pretty, for the first time in your small existence.
It's a thought that scorched itself indelibly into your brain, and as the years cascaded by, the branches of your love grew, each leave bearing new adjectives to describe Hyunjin- caring, emotional, talented.
But never yours.
You're both older now, and you see him less since his house is no longer right next to yours, the rhythm of life distancing you both. Hyunjin comes in and out of your life as an ephemeral tide, gently brushing your shores. You cling to the sea shells his oceans sometimes throw at your feet- the rare times when your schedules align, when you can see him beyond the confines of your phone, in pixelated video calls late into the night.
And it seems as if you've caught a rare shell this time- one with an ivory pearl hidden within it. Because you're traveling once again with him.
You're all much different, the passage of time marked you in different, but palpable ways. But your presence with Hyunjin's family still felt just as effortless as it did when you were seven. You never had to second guess what you said or how you acted with them. You were just like running water, flowing naturally within the nooks and crannies of his family.
And at night, under the moon's watchful gaze, your hushed conversations with Hyunjin remained. Beneath a shared blanket knitted by his mom, the warm sand melded with your feet, his dimple appearing once again at every word you uttered. He was still as pretty, perhaps even more so with time's gentle sculpting, molding his features into much sharper ones. It seemed only fitting for a soul as beautiful as his.
"I want to take you somewhere tomorrow," he had whispered excitedly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, momentarily leaving you breathless- tongue dissolving in your mouth like ivory seafoam.
"You want to kidnap me?" you playfully asked, nudging him.
"You don't want to come with me?" he pouted, his gaze locked into yours, pupils appearing much darker with the absence of the sun, like a boundless ocean. The water was right beside you and yet your only wish was to swim in his eyes.
"I want to," you admitted.
"Anywhere?" he asked, irises trembling slightly as he sought your response. You were both very different, chemicals binding his molecules, and your love for him binding yours. You stood faraway from one another- you in the water and he in the wind, stirring your waves, submerging you in the seas of your longing.
"Anywhere."
...
Faraway land punctures the ocean you're gazing at, crystal blue water filling the small pool Hyunjin took you to. You admit it's a breathtaking view, only your eyes can't depart from Hyunjin's figure.
He jumped into the pool first, while you went to retrieve your camera from your bag. And now you stand by the door, heart caught in your throat, as you watch him swim around. Hyunjin is graceful, in the way he moves his limbs, bending the water to his will. It doesn't look like he's swimming, rather dancing on liquid ground.
Kkami joyfully barks once he sees you, and Hyunjin finally lifts his eyes, locking them with yours. He is pretty, unattainable, a singular star outshining all the celestial light. Foolish of them to even think they could compare.
And he's still not yours.
"I’ll take a picture of you both," you smile softly, willing yourself to conceal the lump growing in your throat. Hyunjin nods, draping his hand over Kkami's body, softly scratching the spot behind his ear. You take the first pic, capturing the tenderness in Hyunjin’s eyes. This one's for you alone.
"Okay, look at the camera," you call out cheerfully, and they both turn to look at you in unison. Though your bodies did not touch, the intensity of Hyunjin's gaze seemed to sear into your skin, igniting a fire within you. Foolish of you to dream of more.
You set the camera aside, before sitting at the edge of the pool, dipping your toes into the cool water. Hyunjin swims towards you, positioning himself between your legs, his warm hand wrapping around your ankle. You want to flee, to go back to to the innocence of seven, to never recognize how pretty Hyunjin is, to avoid the heartbreak of dreaming of someone you'll never have.
"Come swim with me," he pouts, palm pressing against your damp skin. You shake your head, a teasing smile on your face, and he pulls you to him, hands holding your waist promptly to prevent you from sinking under.
You free yourself from his intoxicating hold, before diving into the water, a desperate attempt to get away from him. Because when Hyunjin held your waist, a tenderness so earnest in his eyes it made your heart skip a beat, you dared to imagine a future together. For a fleeting moment you became the ocean and he the sky, merging at the faraway horizon.
Hyunjin dives right after you, and then you both swim around one another, giddy smiles on your faces, your laughter echoing around the room. He tries to drown you, hands gliding across the surface of your skin, making goosebumps ripple in you. You attempt to do the same, but you soon regret it. His skin was smooth, taut muscles flexing under your touch; broad shoulders you wrapped your arms around, trying to push him down. Your hand accidentally brushed against his pulse, and you removed it as if it had burned you. There is life beating within him, wildly. But not for you. Never for you.
"Wait, hold on. Your straps are loosening," he notices, reaching for your arm and spinning you around, your back now facing him. "Can I?" he asks, voice dipping to a lower timber. You feel it in the depths of your stomach, depths only he can unravel.
"Yes," you whisper, as he undoes the loose knot of your swimsuit, the one behind your neck still holding up the fabric against your skin. You can feel his cold breath traveling across your bare back, crystalizing the droplets of water trailing on it. His fingers are a stark warmth as they brush against your spine, fingertips gently grazing your skin, like a delicate feather. You imagine your body is molten wax, and he's the seal stamp pressing onto you, molding you whichever way he'd like.
He's tentative as he grabs the undone straps, wrapping them in a knot. Or at least attempting to. You can tell that he's shaking, a shuddering breath escaping his lips. "Im sorry, I didn't tie it well," he giggles sheepishly, undoing the knot once again. You don't reply, unsure of what words will stumble out of your mouth. 'I don't mind you touching me' instead of 'it's okay'.
You turn around once he's done, but he doesn't move back, his body mere centimeters away from yours. You can see the rise and fall of his chest, the slight blush creeping up his neck, coloring him in the prettiest shade of crimson. The droplets cascading down his body, forging a tantalizing path you wish you could undergo. His dampened hair, a shade darker than his usual color. His lips slightly parted, rosy as they've always been. His adam's apple bobbing up and down furiously.
And you suddenly can no longer breathe.
Beneath the water, his hand encircles your wrist, a touch so faint you almost believe that you've imagined it. His fingers trail down, holding your palm and bringing it to his face. He closes his eyes, letting out a shaky exhale, one you inhale right back in. You're cradling his cheek, his hand right on top of yours, holding it in place.
"Hyunjin..." you start, but he shakes his head, eyes still shut.
"Please," he whispers, "just for a little." and the clouds slightly uncover, a singular sun ray piercing through them- one petal of hope unfurling at his words.
"Don't- don't do this," you plead back, tone tinged with panic. You couldn't have him, not even for a second, not even in a dream. That's the way things are. Two parallel lines, traveling down the same path, forever adjacent, but never merging as one.
Hyunjin plants a soft kiss on your wrist, lips barely brushing against your pulse. You've never truly known gentleness until this moment.
"If I told you that this trip with you is the happiest I’ve been in a while, would you believe me?" he whispers against your skin, head slightly tilted.
You shake your head no.
"If I ask you something would you be honest with me? I'm tired, yn," he says, his voice softening as it always did when he uttered your name. As if the syllables were always coated in honey, even in his sadness, in his anger, and now, in his pleading for you.
"I will," you respond with an equally quiet voice, and yet it resounds loudly around the room, amplified by the consequences looming around the corner.
"Do you want me?" he asks simply, expecting you to easily uncover a secret you've buried for years, to dust the weight of your fear in mere seconds.
You remain silent and Hyunjin deflates a bit, shoulders slumping forward, the dimple in his face vanishing completely.
"Because I'm drowning in my want for you."
A water droplet falls from the strands of his hair, landing softly on his mouth. You follow its descent, as he licks his lips nervously, his hold on your wrist faltering. The wind is gliding across the water- he's offering himself to you. Who are you to ever refuse?
Your lips crash on his before you even realize it, years of longing exploding before your eyes, spilling from your mouth to his in the most vibrant colors. His lips are soft as you've always imagined them, and they move against yours perfectly, as if molded from the same dough, created to meet again and again, in a fervor, and then in a tenderness that makes your heart ache.
You're kissing Hyunjin, and you aren't burning, disintegrating under the weight of longing for someone so unattainable. You aren't Icarus- you flew too close to the sun but it hadn't burned you, instead it embraced you, it's now wrapping its hands around your waist, pressing your chest to its warm one. It's a touch you welcome, one that liquefies in your veins like molten amber.
You wrap your legs around Hyunjin’s waist, as he walks backward until your back is against the pool railing. Your hands are tugging his damp strands, fingers threading through his locks the way sunshine weaves between the leaves. He tastes sweet, sweeter than anything you've ever had in your life. And you're greedy, you can't get enough of him, so you part for a second only to meet again, his hands digging into your sides. Chest to chest, skin to skin, heart to heart.
"Say it," Hyunjin whispers against your lips, "say that you want me back."
"I want you. So much, Hyune. You're the only one I’ve ever wanted," your words wash over him, erasing every doubt that was anchored in his heart. How could you not have seen it, all this time? In each photograph you took, his gaze, always on you. The fondness in his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks, only ever coming forth for you.
You lean away, head dipped down to kiss his shoulders. Your lips trail down his collarbones, moving to the mole on his arm. He smells like chlorine, and the sweet scent of your monoi oil. Hyunjin is pretty, Hyunjin is warm, Hyunjin is yours.
Your eyes meet his and you both let out giddy giggles, the flush of your cheeks matching his. His lips are slightly swollen, and he bites the lower one as he glances at Kkami, who was idly watching you both.
"Do you think we traumatized him?" you ask in a hushed whisper.
"I think he's glad this happened and he no longer has to hear my rants about you," Hyunjin smiles sheepishly and you laugh, the sound reverberating through Hyunjin’s heart.
"Have I ever told you how much I love your laugh?" he asks, thumb swiping across your cheek with a tenderness that leaves you dizzy in its trail.
"You have," you whisper, the sound of it getting caught in your throat.
"And this?" he gently grazes your cupid bow. "Have I told you how much I love your lips?"
"You haven't," you say, mouth parting slightly at his words.
"This then," he trails across your neck, skimming your pulse. "Did I tell you how I feel about your blush? How it always always starts up your neck? Always so pretty?"
"No," you are breathless now, shuddering under his touch.
"What about this?" his hands hold your waist, kneading the tender flesh. "Did I ever tell you? About this?" They go over your hips, gliding across the bare skin. "Surely I did."
You shake your head. Skin burning up where he had touched it. He smiles, tongue poking against his cheek, hands going to your back, tracing over your spine, undoing the knots of your swimsuit. "And this? Did I tell you how much I want you?"
You close your eyes, wind meeting water. "Tell me again."
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witchofhimring · 1 month
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Being the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen and claiming Cannibal
This is sort of an offshoot of my Being the Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen where Reader claims Cannibal instead of Tessarion. Thanks to @katiekatluvz for giving me the idea! Sorry for the long wait I finally have time to write after exams!
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Minor Rhaenyra x Reader (platonic)
This happens before Aemond looses his eye.
This was dangerous, possibly suicidal. But after Aegon's comments earlier you could not take it anymore. It was another forced family gathering where Viserys tried to get his eldest child's family to sit with his second wive's. Things started out okay, there was eating and the occasional conversation. You were merely concentrating on just finishing your meal and getting the hell out. Everything fell apart, with it simple being an innocent comment made by Helaena. She had simply said; "When will you get a dragon Y/n?" Oh poor Helaena. She had meant well but of course Aegon had to stick his nose in matters not his own. "Maybe you would like a pig. Call it the pink dread." Aegon threw you a nasty look. Face heating, you shyly looked down, avoiding his gaze. Of course Aegon would find it funny to make fun of other peoples misfortune. "Shove off." Jaecery's snarled at Aegon. Aegon was not done, even when you had gone back to eating. "I guess one day you shall have a dragon. After all, you are a very strong girl." A thick blanket of tension blanketed the door. Everyone, even those at the other end, heard. Helaena's breath hitched, a low exasperated sound escaped Alicent. Aemond snorted. Your cheeks burned with hurt and shame. "Some of us burn hotter than others." Aemond added.
A fist slammed on the table. Visery's, despite being well past his prime, struck the table with enough force that it quivered. Even your mother, normally so vocal, had fallen silent. "You will not utter such slanders in this house." He snarled. At that moment Visery's did not remotely look like the loving grandfather you knew. Visery's glanced at his wife before ordering Aegon to his study. Hanging your head, you ran out of the room, ignoring your mother's cries.
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Your door was locked, barring anyone from entering. Even your beloved mother. As the hour grew late there was silence outside. Night did nothing to calm the raging heat in your heart. Of course Aegon thought he was better, riding on oh-so-great Sunfyre and his silver Targaryen hair. And who was Aemond to laugh at you! He didn't have a dragon either!
Here you were, deprived of Targaryen looks and dragonless. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Outside a roar echoed across the water. Wiping the remaining tears you opened the window. A gust of wind nearly blew you back. Bellow the sea surrounding Driftmark thundered, crashing against rocks. Far ahead was a great black lump, so dark that even against the sky it was easily seen. You would have thought it was Vhaegar except that Laena and Daemon were in Pentos. Beyond a stretch of sand were the dragon caves. If one exited the gaves and ran across the sand they could reach the dragons. Sunfyre and Dreamfyre were snoozing in their cave. Vermithor and Silverwing were back at Kingslanding. There were others, of course. You entertained the idea it might be Meyles until the dragon roared once more. It's screech was nothing like you had heard. It sounded like metal being scrapped together. Yet instead of being afraid, an idea came.
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Any sane person would have thought twice. Then again, Targaryens were not exactly known for their sanity. Waiting till the early morning, you slipped out. When the sun was just pocking over the horizon that Driftmark was quietest. The guards would be tired and few would be up. Down the halls you slunk, nearing the exit. There was a small side door leading to stairs. These stairs took one right down to the courtyard. Passing a pair of sleepy guards you slipped behind a pair of barrels. Now it was just down the steps. That was when you heard a noise.
A familiar drawl could be heard. Great. Aegon was awake. Quickly you ducked behind a pair of barrels by the door. He stumbled inside and right past you. "I should have kicked him." Once he was gone you looked left and right. Then came the hard part.
The court yard was empty. Not even your father Laenor would be out training. Beyond was the gate, with two guards standing sentry. If you could slip past them, and across the sand, then you could take a small passage that lead to the dragon cave.
It was down to luck. The guards would need to be distracted for long enough. Fortunately, there was luck on your side. The walls supporting the gate were made of stone. And they just so happened to be uneven pieces of stone. Meaning all you had to do was climb up. The guards were so focused on the other side that you could get up without being spotted. Small hands grasped the rocks and you climbed. It occurred to you at that moment wearing a nightgown was likely not a good idea. But it was too late to turn back.
The salty air whipped your hair. Reaching the top you had a view of the caves beyond. There were soldiers guarding but none were looking up. There were four you could see. And now that you had reached the top there was yet another problem. You had no plan other than wait and hope. It was poor planning strategy. Though in your defense you were ten. The sun was rising higher in the sky. Would you even be able to sneak out!?
"Change!" A call nearly caused you to jump up. Looking over the side you saw the guards marching away. Taking the chance you jumped down. The force in which your feet hit the ground made them sting. "Hey!" To your horror you saw guards rushing toward. Shit. Taking a deep breath you plucked up the courage and ran. Having a head start helped. But these were full grown men, and running in sand was hard. The only thing on your side was that they were covered in armor. It meant you were able to reach the dragon cave that remained unguarded. It was was left unguarded for a reason. Because none would ever dream of challenging The Cannibal. For a moment you looked at the dark passage, and then looked back. You could hear them calling out. "I've come this far." And with that, you headed in.
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The first few steps plunged you into pitch black. The air tasted stale and the rocks threatened to rip open your feet. Most dragon caves were well maintained, but even dragon-keepers would not dare go near this one. A few steps later and a few crack in the walls gave light. Step by step you walked forward. Now you could smell it and it nearly made you gag. But you had come so far that to turn back now was not an option. You heard a deep rumbling and stopped. Even the foundations of this cave seemed to hum. When the noise stopped you proceeded. Ahead you saw the tunnel end. Finally you met The Cannibal.
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Despite the dragons infamy few could describe it. In fact many did not survive such an encounter. And it was enormous. Only slightly smaller that Vhagar, The Cannibal turned his head and mad poisonous green eyes met yours. Dragon eyes had always fascinated you. They held this terrifying imperious gaze. But when you looked into The Cannibal's all you saw was a wild raging fire. You had heard of Wildfire, created by the lords of Old Valyria to mimic dragon fire. While you had never seen wild fire, you thought his eyes might be close enough. Dragon scales came in all colours, but black was rare. The only other dragon known to possess such a colour was Balerion the Black Dread. Smooth pitch black scales glistened in the sunlight. His great jaw had uncountable razor sharp teeth larger than you. The large tale swung around and The Cannibals body was facing you. Then he opened his mouth and fire curled at the throat.
"I will die." In that moment you felt fear and rage. You were as good as the rest of them. Why should you not have a dragon! “Dohaerās, Cannibal! Lykirī!” Those were the only words you could say. Something akin to fire swelled within you at that moment. A defiance bordering on madness. The fire in The Cannibal's seemed ready to burst forward. "Lykirī!" You thought those would be your last words. It was not fear you felt in that moment, but the desire to prove something "At least I tried, like a true Targaryen." The blast of white hot flame which would encase and disintegrate your body never came. Your eyes met his. The Cannibal was looking down at you with his imperious glance. Was he not going to burn you?
That was when you heard voices. It seemed the guards had decided to go in. Better to perish in dragon fire than whatever your mother might do to them for failing to protect her only daughter. Then you stepped forward. Now was not the time to be afraid. Already you had braved possible dragon fire. Over rock and bits of bone you stepped, ignoring the stinging in your feet. From The Cannibal was a ladder attached to a harness. "So The Cannibal once had a rider." At that moment you did not ponder too much. They said The Cannibal had never been ridden before. But since his very being was a mystery you supposed it was possible.
Scrambling up the rough ropes you desperately hurried to the top. "There she is! She's...she's on the dragon!" The Cannibal jerked back nearly sending you flying off. "Daor!" You ordered loud as possible. To your astonishment the dragon listened. Reaching the top you fastened the harness, securing you in place. The Cannibal seemed to know what you wanted, for the moment you were settled the dragon gave a great huff and speed down the corridor. Every jut of his muscle sent you roughly inching forward. "This is much more uncomfortable than I thought." You always imagined dragon riding as a smooth ride. But now you realized that was untrue. Then what would flying be like? You barely had any time to comprehend anything before sunlight was visible. The Cannibal then picked up speed. Suddenly The Cannibal launched into the air with a great jerk. Had you not been harnessed in you would have fallen. His leathery wing beat the air as the ground became smaller.
You would have smiled if it had not been for the fact your voice has disappeared. The thrill, terror and excitement nearly paralyzed you. The Cannibal was not going up smoothly. The dragon seemed to be doing his best in order to shake you off. Despite this the harness was well made, and thank the gods. You had just enough sense to seize the reins and pull at them. It did nothing to slow The Cannibal down but you were suddenly possessed with a renewal in courage. Sitting straight in your saddle there was suddenly a level of control you felt. The Cannibal must have felt it, for he leveled himself. Soaring above the clouds you finally looked down. "We really are close to the Gods." You muttered.
You flew several laps in the sky. It was less about commands and more about the connection between dragon and rider. You had to remain in control of your emotions. Not being used to dragon riding, your legs started to cramp. Deciding it was time to descend you ordered The Cannibal down. Surprisingly graceful, The Cannibal started to climb down. His cave became more clear. A crowd was gathering outside of the cave. You were not too surprised since they probably thought you dead. With a great thud The Cannibal landed sending sand into the air.
"Y/n!" You had never heard your mother scream like that. Practically leaping off the rope ladder you flew into your mothers arms. "Oh Gods Y/n!" Rhaenyra clutched you close with shaking arms. You mother who was usually so indomitable and strong was shaking and weeping. Her arms held you in a vise grip. "Y/n...never do that again!" Rhaenyra had broken apart, gripping you by the arms. Normally you would bust into tears and apologize. But a fire was ablaze in your chest was burning bright. Taking your mother by the hand you lead her to The Cannibal. Rhaenyra looked hesitant but seeing your determination encouraged her. Reaching out you placed a hand on The Cannibals warm scales. "Touch him." Rhaenyra's fingertips grazed the dragon. Then she steadied and placed her hand directly on the dragon. The Cannibal crooned and for the first time seemed something close to calm.
Looking back you saw your brothers, aunt and uncles. There was pride such as you had never seen on your brother's faces. Your eyes met Aegon's and Aemond's, for the first time you did not look away. This time it was them who looked away from your defiant eyes. You were Y/n Velaryon. Daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Rider of Cannibal. And fire dwelt within your veins like any blood of the dragon.
Divider by @firefly-graphics
Taglist:
@katiekatluvz
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moineauz · 2 months
Text
જ⁀ 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌 , hsr men !
side comments: i love old jazzy tunes or old songs in general. i usually don't do this kind of fic but i wanted to try something new.
extra: gn reader, fluff, all hsr men except yanqing & misha word count: 434
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Other arms reach out to me Other eyes smile tenderly Still in peaceful dreams I see The road leads back to you. 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐀 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 / Ray Charles
Despite age the two of you bustle about; committing your duties be it work or another passion. Perhaps either of you transverse the cosmos. However, when Twilight's wings gingerly take you under its folds, the two of you melt into one like candle wax dripping down its holder. No matter what path each of you treads- you are bound no matter the state. Thus, under the duvet covers and the unspoken lullabies of the night, he presses kisses on your wrinkled eyes like gemstones while slowly caressing your furrowed hand with a gentleness only matched by the lightness of a feather and the warmth of a beating heart. It is instinctive like blinking, like drawing air into the lungs. Rest now in silence for neither of you needed to say a word, another day will come and nights of blossoming devotion will echo into eternity.
𝐆𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑 . Dan Heng . 𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎 . 𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀 . Gepard . 𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐀𝐍 . 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈 . Blade . 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐓 . + any of your favourites
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Just one look at you My heart grew tipsy in me You and you alone Bring out the Gypsy in me I love all the many charms about you Above all, I want my arms about you 𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 / Judy Garland
Your limbs might not take you far now, but he'll twirl you in the air like a star and tease you until your cheeks ache from laughter. The glimmer and shine of that first date still trails behind the two of you: stardust in the wind, wings that seldom break. You two still share that hidden kiss in public and search for treasures amongst a sea of rust. Giddy and unfettered, the two of you are like birds spinning in the air; chasing each other in fits of uncontrolled laughter. Blush still brushing against your sagging cheeks and the tipsyness of a night still young, his own heart enthralled as the first time he met you. The throng can stare if they want; asking why not sit down? Would you like some help? That's fine, he'll still banter and pursue adoration as if it's not already tucked in his arms. Because despite his gradually wilting eyes and worn-out knees, he'll still bow down and press his head against your stomach, whispering, "mine."
𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 . Argenti . 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 . 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐎 . 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐀 . Gallager . 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 . + any of your favourites
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At last My love has come along My lonely days are over And life is like a song 𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 / Etta James
The two of you have mellowed over the years, lost some hair and found comfort in blue skies, the pit pat of rain and sand between your toes. Perhaps the two of you find a house in the countryside or build a home on a distant planet found in cup boards and the warmth of an oven. Perhaps you settle under the blanket of the universe; allowing your eyes to trace the sun inching down the walls of your shared home. The two of you spend your days lying languidly on the couch, days drifting into melodies spent well and arms entangled as one. He never would've thought that his heart could slow and his soul mellow like a distant breeze. His eyes drifted towards your figure, a pleasant smile reaching his lips.
𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 . Welt . Gepard . 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 . Dr. Ratio . 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 . 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆 . Jing Yuan . Luocha . + any of your favourites
masterlist.
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m1d-45 · 9 months
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i love your sagau/imposter au fics so much (esp kazuha’s),, do you think nahida would be able to sense if the creator isnt an imposter because of her having access to Irminsul and being able to see if there are records of them? anyways okok so uh hear me out, maybe the creator tries to seek safety in sumeru while they’re being hunted? sorry if this is a lengthy ask ekwjkwm anyways thanks for reading, ur amazing !
sandy refuge
word count: 3.4k
-> warnings: spoilers for the final sumeru archon quest
-> gn reader (you/yours)
taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr
< masterlist >
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sumeru was a deadly nation.
liyue was guarded by the adepti, and inazuma’s storms tore the sea around the archipelago to shreds, but sumeru…
sumeru, the land of wisdom, headed by academics and led by scholars and sages. the nation split in two, lush forests barely a stones throw from barren deserts, believers of two (three?) separate gods walking side by side through the city. for a nation so divided, it was rare to get everybody to agree on something, every decision inevitably and invariably leaving some group of people unsatisfied.
and yet, there they were, united under one flag. eremites and the matra, the beige robes of the desert dwellers shifting in the wind besides the glittering armor of the akademiya’s soldiers, spears and swords aligned towards the same target.
it would be beautiful, if only you weren’t the one they rallied against.
you didn’t know how long you had been running when you managed to work your way past the wall, nor how long you had managed to stumble across sand dunes before finding your current oasis.
literally. trees swayed around a large pool of clear water, thick grass cushioning your knees as you barely hesitated before cupping some in your hands and drinking. it was blessedly cool, and you were tempted to swim in it and let it soothe the continuous heat from the desert sun. sadly, you didn’t have a spare set of clothes, and you weren’t keen on stripping when the matra could storm the place at any moment.
or the eremites. or the corp of thirty. or literally anybody else, since you’ve apparently been declared public enemy number one.
you splashed some water on your face and over your head, goosebumps rising where a drop raced beneath the collar of your shirt. how water was so cold when the sand was so hot, you didn’t know, but you weren’t going to complain.
after drinking a few more handfuls of the water, you finally looked around. there was a large spire of stone next to the oasis, flanked by large trees, with a thankfully abandoned hilichurl hut beside it.
you try not to think about how an archer would have had an easy shot as you were drinking.
at the base of a few of the trees is something green, and you remember the nuts that grew in the desert. you were too wary of the henna berries and the cacti they grew on to try and eat those, but you distinctly remember these being used in a few recipes.
all you could do was hope they were edible raw.
you stood—your vision blurred, the ground tilting, but you ignored it—and walked around the oasis, inspecting the green and hoping it wasn’t a fungus.
good news, it wasn’t. bad news, it was the husk of one of the nuts, hollow without any of the fruit inside. fresh, by the looks of it, the green leaves squishing instead of crumbling when you kicked at them.
great.
you sat on the curved trunk of one of the trees, holding up a hand to shade your eyes as you looked up. you could see another nut, hanging off the top of a tree, but.. the bark of the trees were smooth, and any of your athletic abilities were worn away by exhaustion and malnutrition.
you let your head drop and tried not to focus on your hunger, instead inspecting the mix of sand and grass beneath your feet. sand and grass. all of sumeru, represented right at your feet. hot, slippery sand, and cool, spiky grass. the desert and the forest, two wildly different ecosystems, and yet… both drove you out.
you tried not to cry, to push away the helplessness of the situation, but you couldn’t. what had you done, you wondered, for your very face to cause such an uproar? for two separate groups of people, divided in location, name, and faith to ally in their shared hatred of you? if somebody asked you what the millelith, matra, and eremites had in common about six months ago, you couldn’t have answered. you’d have thought about it, maybe, but drawn a blank outside of ‘defenders.’
but what were they defending? and how were you a threat?
when the first tear fell, so did something else.
you jumped at the dense thud, digging your nails—overgrown, bitten at, broken—into the bark as you searched for the source of the noise.
a large fruit had fallen, the one you were eyeing earlier by the looks of it. it sat atop the empty husk of another, magically fallen from the tree by seemingly nothing.
you weren’t going to complain.
you slid off the tree, reaching for the nut, grabbing the stem and pulling, but dropped it just as fast. a fungus was standing just behind it, large orange eyes looking up at you.
you were frozen. would it attack you? was it trying to eat? did they even need to? could you get sick from fungus spores? even if you couldn’t, getting hurt wasn’t worth the meal…
the fungus tilted to one side, then the other, bumping the large fruit towards you.
it… was giving it back?
you stared, but the fungus didn’t move. when you carefully tugged at the nut, slowly drawing it closer so you could properly pick it up, it didn’t move. it just watched you, the rim of its cap slightly falling into its eyes.
you sat back on the tree, pulling it into your lap. the outer leaves were coarse, softening as you pulled away the many layers. there was a high chance some of the inner leaves were edible, but you didn’t want to take chances. the fruit itself was a pale green, easily tearing under your fingers. it was soft, with the barest edge of sweetness that had you prying up more. it wouldn’t make for a full meal, but it was certainly far better than nothing.
you checked on the fungus every once in a while, but it just stood there. by your guess, it was the floating anemo kind, but where was its group? fungi rarely appeared alone, and part of you felt bad.
(felt bad. for a fungus. you’re in dirty, torn clothes and on the run for your life, and you still find the empathy for a fungus. at least you knew your morals were still intact.)
you offered a piece of the nut to the fungus, but it didn’t react. instead it turned, floating into the air and drifting away.
…alright.
you try to eat the fruit slowly, as to not make yourself sick, taking breaks to sip more water from the lake to dim the sweetness. you didn’t know how long the fruit would stay good now that you’d opened it, but you were trying to enjoy it. its not as if you were overflowing with excess, and you likely couldn’t linger here long. you don’t even know why you resorted to the desert anyway.. between cyno, the ruins, scorpions, the primal constructs.. to say it was dangerous was an understatement. even if you made it to the far west, the pari were there, and you didn’t think they would take too kindly to you. fontaine wouldn’t be much better, provided you somehow crossed the sea around it…
nowhere was safe. you supposed that was the point, that nobody would give you refuge, but it still hurt. you didn’t think you’d ever land in this situation when you first downloaded the game..
whatever. you’re not going to go down that path for the nth time. you hold the remains of the nut in one arm as you stand, picking off chunks as you walk toward the hilichurl hut. with any luck there would be something useful inside, or at least be a safe place to rest temporarily.
the camp looks like it’s been clear recently, which is both good and bad. good, because neither hilichurls nor patrols should come by here for a bit, but bad because it lowers your chances of finding anything useful. there’s no arrowheads or vegetables, not even embers in the fire pit, all the supply boxes long since broken.
at least it’s shelter. at least you had food today, and (hopefully) clean water. small wins, small wins…
you gather your strength and begin to drag all the rubble into the hut, using what was left of their training dummies to make a hollow pile. hopefully it would just look like trash to anyone walking by, and could maybe keep you warm. the scraps of furs littered over the camp were matted with something you didn’t want to think about, so this was your best bet.
man, you missed your bed.
you returned to the oasis for more water, scrubbing off some of the dirt from your arms and face. you wouldn’t be clean for long, what with the dirt floor you’d picked as your shelter, but it felt nice. a topical fix for a bone deep wound.
you didn’t try to clean your clothes, eyeing the sun dipping in the sky. having wet clothes wouldn’t help at night, even if it might feel good. perhaps tomorrow? yes, tomorrow. tomorrow you could scrub at your shirt—*blood doesn’t clean easily without soap*—and try to undo some of the knots in your hair, maybe even use leaves and some of the scraps of twine around the camp to bring some water with you.
tomorrow. you got this. surely.
(just ignore the fact that you don’t know where in the desert you are. or how easy it would be to get lost, or dehydrate. nope. this is a perfectly fine and normal situation that you have an okay amount of control over. you got this. you have to.)
you return to the hut, retrieving the other half of your fruit and taking it with you into your pitiful shelter. at least you didn’t have to worry about rain…
it was only slightly cramped beneath the pile of junk, but you had enough room for you and your food. you laid there for a long time, occasionally peeling off pieces to eat. you didn’t know how much was left, and you didn’t think about it, distracting yourself by thinking about tomorrow. if you were clever with some sticks you could fashion some wider soles for your shoes to get more grip on the sand, or maybe a hat to keep from burning… but there was water and food to worry about, but the area along the wall was certainly dangerous, but it might be worth it if it meant you lived a little longer…
you fell asleep at some point, the faint sweetness of your dinner lingering on your tongue.
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normally, waking up to someone barely a foot from your person would be unsettling. in your situation, it was terrifying.
you immediately pushed yourself back, crawling backwards away from nahida. she was kneeling, seeming surprised at your actions. you almost wondered how she was out here, and in your survey of the area, it clicked.
you weren’t in the hut anymore. you’d missed it in your fear, but you were lying on grass, in a small meadow. you didn’t pay too much attention to it though, putting a hand to your chest to try and calm your heart.
“just a dream,” you breathed, and nahida’s expression fell. not into anger, more.. sadness?
“i’m sorry if i startled you.” her voice was soft, but flat, motions stiff as she stood up and dusted off her dress.
what a weird dream. first you’re lucid, then she’s here… maybe it was wishful thinking. maybe your brain had finally had enough.
“it’s fine,” you said, taking another look around the field. tall trees arched high above you, the bushes and ferns between them reminding you of the rainforest. in the center were three chairs, with various plates laid out on the table between them. you stood, automatically wiping for any grass caught on you, only to find that you were actually wearing clean clothes again—one of your favorite outfits, actually.
you mostly ignored nahida as you walked to the table, looking over the various dishes. you recognized a few as sumeru recipes, but not all of them, deciding to pick at a bowl of fruit instead. you’re not sure how dreams work here—you haven’t had many since coming to teyvat—but it feels safer to stick with a food you’ve actually tried before.
(you ignore the nut from the oasis. calculated risk.)
“i hope they’re to your liking?” nahida’s voice is hesitant as she comes to your side, sitting in one of the chairs. you don’t do the same.
“i’m surprised i remember so many of these,” you say instead, looking over the sheer variety of food laid out. your subconscious has done well.. almost a bit too well.
“eat. you need the energy.”
“i’ll just miss them in the morning, and it’s not like they’ll give me any actual nutrition.”
“…please, my god.”
your head whips to her in an instant, the fruit falling from your hand as if it was poison. it could be, considering everything.
even after all these months, you’d let your guard down. in front of the one god who had control over dreams, you ate of her food and showed that you were weak.
nahida raises her hands, and you have half a mind to grab a knife off the table. it wouldn’t do anything, but it would make you feel better. “it’s just me. there’s nobody else in this dream.”
you should have known better. “leave me alone.”
“i mean you no harm, i only-“
you put your hands over your ears and close your eyes, trying to make yourself wake up. you pictured the walls of the hut, of your makeshift shelter and the leaves of last night’s dinner. you pretend you can’t hear her voice, that the only sound is the whisper of the wind.
if only you’d remembered her powers quicker, or perhaps discovered yours sooner.
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you don’t know how long it took you to break free from the dream, or if you managed to break it at all. you just knew that you woke up to the sounds of talking from outside your hut, the words were faint but still discernible from the wind. two voices, one soft and one rough, picking their way around the oasis.
you didn’t dare try to run, instead shifting some of the wood in your pile to cover the entrance. where could you even go if they found you? west was dangerous, east was deadly, north led you into either a sandstorm or a dead-end sea, and south was entirely uncharted, and that was assuming you even made it that far.
they came closer, and you reached for one of the smaller planks in your small shelter. it was still about the length of your forearm, and though the rest of the stack shifted, you felt a bit safer. maybe you could hide in a cave for a while until they left? no, that would mean you’d have to get enough of a lead to lose them, and you doubted you could run that fast.
“-abandoned.” there was a sound like a rock kicked against the side of the hut, covering the sound of your breath as you recognized the voice. “you sure this is the right place?”
wanderer.
“i’m certain, i saw it myself.”
and nahida. she probably tapped into your mind to see where you were trying to wake up to… it would be clever if your life wasn’t on the line.
footsteps drew ever closer, and it was getting hard to judge the distance. the hut was empty save for your little scrap pile, but how close was too close? could you even have a chance with wanderer’s skill? not to mention the dendro archon…
maybe you were doomed from the start. there was no good ending for you, just a constant delay of the fate that you dodged when you first set foot on this planet.
how long has it been? how much time have you borrowed? teyvat had ghosts, would you become one? would you return to earth? did your earth even exist anymore? this was not the time for this debate…
a shadow moved, and nahida’s voice was far closer than it was before. “divine one?”
you bit your cheek as to not laugh. ‘divine one.’ she already had a god, the one that had ordered this mess to begin with. the first person you ran into, ironically, who had on sight declared you a criminal. you didn’t want to be associated with that person at all, thank you. did she think that you thought you were the god? you wouldn’t be hiding if you did.
“buer. you’re talking to a pile of sticks.”
“i’m aware.” her voice grew quieter, like she’d turned around. “but we need to be patient.”
“there’s an easier way to do this, you know.”
“after all that’s happened? there’s no easy solution to this.”
“that’s not what i…” he sighed. “can i show you something?”
“what is it?”
the air hissed, your pile broken by a blade of wind down the middle. the anemo curved around you, acting as a shield as the wood splintered and flew. you quickly pushed yourself up, sitting against the wall and looking between the two of them. nahida looked terrified, and the shock on wanderer’s face is comical. looks like he didn’t expect you to actually be in there.
he removed his hat from his head, quickly dropping to one knee, nahida doing the same barely a moment after. “my god.. i apologize for my haste.”
pardon?
nahida lifted her head, meeting your eyes with a hand to her chest. “and i’m sorry for invading your dream earlier. i just wanted to find you, and when i noticed you were in sumeru..”
wanderer is too prideful to apologize to anybody he doesn’t absolutely need to, even for a plan.. jut what’s going on here?
you fix your attention on nahida and hope she’s not a good liar. “don’t you already have a god you follow?”
nahida flinched, looking away. “that… was a mistake. i should have trusted my instincts, and for that i’m sorry. i had no idea that my silence would lead to this…”
either she’s a really convincing actor, or she means it. given the severity of the situation, you don’t want to assume.
“if it helps…” wanderer’s hands tighten on his hat, and he bows his head further. “my anemo protected you. even if i did mean to cause harm, that is more than enough proof of your identity.”
“…so i’m supposed to believe you? just like that?”
nahida shook her head. “i understand your apprehension. it’s hard to trust someone after everyone else has betrayed you, and i don’t expect you to come with me to the sanctuary right away. aaru village is close by, though, and i was hoping you would be willing to go there..?”
some part of you still thinks it’s a trick, that there would be a swarm of matra waiting for you. but honestly… running is tiring, and nahida is kind. you want to believe her, even if it does end up going poorly. what else do you have to lose, really?
you drop your poor excuse for a weapon, briefly checking your hands for splinters before standing up. you kick aside the remains of your dinner and dust yourself off, walking forward. “alright. i’ll go with you.”
nahida beams.
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E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series - Part 10!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader
Warnings: +18 filth, dirty stuff, drink holy water but also romance bc yes
Notes: This is (not) the final chapter of this series omg thank you for reading. I am not done with the series itself, whatever plot comes to my mind I am sure I will develop it. If you have also requests for the series, maybe headcanons, blurbs, or anything I am your loyal writer!
WC: 5.9K
Taglist: @fallout-girl219 @ravenwtfbro @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dollarstore-lydia-deetz @mmmunson
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Bournemouth smelled like pines, salt, humidity and sex.
You grabbed your fan and placed it on top of your head, the sun was threatening to burn your skin any second now and you were already sweating too much for your own liking and still you loved every aspect of it. Your hand softly traced the damp sand next to you and you tried to sign your name in it, your eyes darted to the front and you saw Benedict kneeling on the sand meters away from you and he looked addicted to the view.
A chalk by his right hand and a sketching pad in his left. He was inspired.
"Did you see that?!!" he yelled, turning only his head and pointing to the sky "The birds are hunting fish!" he laughed
"I see it!" you yelled back, your hand grabbed the sweating glass of lemonade and you drank all of it "I must go to the water!"
"Yes! Yes!" he exclaimed turning to his sketch "Enjoy!"
You stood up, your head bending away from the umbrella and your feet touched the warm sand. You passed Benedict as he kept sketching and your feet finally touched the sea water. As you giggled, you ventured further and the water soon reached your belly.
The horrid dress you had to wear for sea bathing clung to your body, and the skirt threatened to float up if it wasn't for the small sacks hanging from the skirt actually to prevent that. You stepped further and the water was reaching the underside of your breasts. The waves hit you with their force and you almost lost your balance, but you managed to stay standing. Your hair was being pulled back, your face felt the wind and you laughed, looking at the sun. Why people don't do this often?
"Y/N?!"
You spun around and saw Benedict "Hi!"
"I thought you would damp your soles!" he snorted seeing your small head floating next to the vast sea "You are an adventurer!"
"I am a sea woman!" you laughed "A mermaid!"
Benedict replied with a smile, ran back to the several towels spread by the sand and took a sip of the lemonade. You floated naturally without help and you thanked your mother for taking you to the famous peerless piscine several times. You grinned when Benedict ran to the sea and shivered once the water touched him.
"Come on now!" you yelled
"It is cold!" he kept going forward, the breeches turned black as the water collided with his legs "Oh woman, how do you stay inside there?"
"It gets warm after a while" Your body lost its weight underwater and you kept on flowing with the tide as you waited for him to be next to you "Perhaps you can get in before night"
"Don't tease"
"I can't stop myself"
He reached you and you two looked at each other, the wind was getting wilder and his eyes were shining with the sunlight. Benedict looked like a creature, his pale skin contrasted with the dark water, his eyes were so blue turning green and his hair was slightly moist with the drops of the sea.
"You lo-"
"You lo-"
Both of you laughed as you tried to talk at the same time. Benedict's hands floated your way as he hugged you and you smiled at the warmth of his body, his hands were so big they could probably wrap your whole waist and the idea was too thrilling to be ignored.
"You look like a goddess"
"Well thank you" you kissed his lips gently and looked to the sky, the sun was at its peak "Can we stay here forever?"
"We might turn into merpeople"
"Not the water, the place. Is so quiet"
"Just a few cottages around" he nodded "and they charged me shillings for a basket of vegetables"
"Shillings?"
"Four"
"Oh" you laughed "this is heaven then"
"I wondered," he said floating and staring at you "when would you like to get settled? London or the country?"
You smirked, "You know me, what do I like?"
"The country of course"
"And the city?"
"You like it a lot" he chortled "But you also enjoy the quietness of the countryside"
"What do you like?"
"The country, for sure. London has become crazy, hasn't it?"
"I Loved Your Cottage"
"It is yours now"
"No, I mean, Your Cottage, you silly"
"Ah" he beamed as he leaned backwards wetting all his hair and turning it from chestnut to black "It is not as big as your house"
"And? Doesn't it feel more like a home?"
Benedict got a glimpse of the future inside that cottage, the two of you waking up in each other's arms, making tea, making love, making breakfast and having the entire house for the both of you. It would be a quiet, calm, and peaceful life, like his parents and siblings, family, home, marriage, and kids.
"Come here" The sudden passion got the best of him as he grabbed you from your waist and kissed you deeply, he tasted drops of seawater by your lips and still he swore it was sweet just like before. "We can get a place here" he suggested "This might not be Italy but it surely has beautiful views"
"It can be a vacation place, I know that you want to practice art don't you?"
"No doubt"
"This is further from clients, you ought to have a closer practice to London and we can return to your house for any sort of commissions you might have there"
"That might be the most wifeful statement you have ever said"
"Am I not your wife?"
"You are beyond that" he stated playing with the water next to him "Whatever you want to do with your time?"
"You mean to earn money for a living?" you went straight to splash water on him "Who would employ me?"
"You are the smartest person I know, if you want to do something else I am here to support you, aren't I? Do whatever pleases you, darling"
You looked at the horizon, the sun was going down slowly. A mother? You wanted a family, you desired Benedict's children. Can there be something more than duty within the household?
"I will think about it. I promise" You nodded "I am parched, I'll drink something and will come back so don't move"
You kissed him again and swam back to the towels and the umbrella. Benedict looked at the sun as it kept setting, a smile was forming on his face as he imagined his life, and he was happy, happier than ever but alas his thoughts were cut sharp like a knife slicing bread.
"Oh, look at that" he murmured
As you walked outside the water he saw every angle of your body. The sea bathing dress -that was considered for modesty- did absolutely nothing to hide your modesty. On the contrary, he swears that you look like a marble sculpture with a thin veil covering your curves. The way the wet fabric clings against your thighs and your bottom, the way it hides next to your core and when you return from drinking your lemonade he got the best view.
Whatever for he was sketching the sky when he could be sketching you instead?
"Ben?"
But your questioning was cut because he didn't realize he was being pulled by the image of you. He felt the wind crashing against his damp clothing but he did not care he only shushed his name from your lips and pulled your body to his and kissed you fiercely, the world stopped spinning and everything went in slow motion. Benedict could not help himself but moan and he could feel the heat growing on his groin as he kissed your lips and tasted the lemonade by the way your mouth opened.
"What was that?" you panted, breathless
"I don't know," he whispered, his fingers touching your face, his other hand tracing your curves "you just looked..."
"Yes?"
"Every time" he snorted cupping your cheeks "Every time I believe I have found my inspiration, rather is in that bloody bird hunting fish with the sky and the sea as witness... you come and in your own way you make realize my inspiration is and will forever be you"
You were blushing, your heart was beating too fast for your own liking, your eyes were watering, and your mind was in a trance. You had the power to inspire such a great man "Try to take it back" you said
His pupils were dilated as his hands went to your waist and squeezed it, he felt his cock growing as his eyes travelled through the entirety of your figure. Benedict was in awe and in love. He ran his nose next to your temple and the scent of your skin mingled with the salt of the water made his groin ache
"Darling"
"I'm not stopping you, I am asking you"
"You are a dangerous woman" he gently pushed you down tot he and kissed you again, his lips traveled to your jaw and sucked your skin until the collarbones, his teeth nibbled the flesh and he groaned, his hands were pulling your hips to his "So dangerous"
"Ben" you sighed, your body was on fire that you swore the heat coming off from you could dry your dress in an instant. His tongue licked the salty water from your neck and he sucked hard, leaving a bruise. His lips kissed and sucked, and your head tilted to the side to give him more space, his mouth was doing wonders and your body was trembling, and your legs were clenching together "Oh"
Benedict stopped the attack and cupped your chin, he guided your face to look at him and it was the most absurd feeling he has ever had but nonetheless valid to him because he can swear on God himself that every time he is about to ravish you, he feels like it's the first time. Over and over again, like the most wonderful spell.
"Every moment without you feels like an eternity; you are my deepest longing and my sweetest torment, Y/N"
He caught you off guard and the gasp from your mouth came not only by his loving confession but by the attack next to your vocal cords. Suddenly your dress weighed heavily on you, and your body felt like sinking in the sand so you fidgetted and tried to take your dress off, he noticed it and helped you.
The damped fabric flew and landed heavily on the sand leaving you bare to him again. The exposure was very welcome by you, comfortable under his grip as he took one of your nipples inside his mouth and sucked. You moaned, your hands gripping his hair as he sucked hard and then licked the hard bud "Oh"
His cock twitched in his breeches, and the need for more friction was getting out of control so he unbuttoned the trousers and let them fall to his knees, and then he took his shirt off. Your fingers traced his torso, small grains of sand attached to his skin.
"Look at you" he stood kneeling with you lying down, he admired the way your breasts heaved and fell in a tantalizing rhythm and his hand traced your abdomen and the curls of your sex "So exquisite"
"Benedict" you pleaded, your legs were clenching against the need and you were growing impatient.
He smirked, his finger caressed the sensitive nub and you jumped in pleasure, a moan escaped from your lips as he touched you, the pad of his fingers circling and teasing the bud, his index finger slipped in between your folds and he could not help but grunt at the feeling of your warmth "So wet"
"Please" you moaned again, the heel of your feet pushing down the trousers away from his knees, Benedict hissed as the breeze hit him "Don't make me beg"
"Wouldn't dream of it"
He removed his finger from you and took your wetness around his throbbing member and started pumping his length. You looked at the act and the way his hand moved along with his shaft, his eyes were locked on yours as the pace of his movements increased, he could see how the sight affected you.
"Y/N" he murmured and dropped his body on top of you, the weight of his body against yours made your core burn and his cock rubbed the wetness of your folds, the tip was leaking and the urge of wanting him inside you was making it harder and harder to be patient "My love, you drive me insane"
"I want to feel you" you begged and you did not care
Benedict pushed himself inside you and gasped, the warm feeling was intoxicating. You bit his shoulder and the sting was welcome as he started moving. Your hips were meeting his thrusts and the waves hitting you didn't help at all.
"God!"
You moaned, feeling every inch of him, his thrusts were becoming frantic and the feeling of his body rubbing against yours was bringing you to the edge, his fingers gripped your hips tightly, and his head dropped by the crook of your neck, his breathing was irregular, He couldn't fathom coming now, so soon.
So he stopped and pulled out. A disappointing look came from you by the lack of friction but Benedict went to the other side of the towels and plummeted on his back as he waved his fingers at you.
"Come here"
And you did, climbing over him and placing his cock at your entrance. You sunk down and threw your head back, your hands placed themselves by his pectorals and he took your breasts with his mouth. You didn't know in which position you felt closer to him but this one, you could feel him reaching so deep.
"Ben"
"Y/N"
You were riding him and his hips bucked, his hands went to your hips and gripped them tight. Break all of him he did not care. The sight of you bouncing without any care in the world, the sun hitting your back, the sand sprinkled by your shoulders and the sweat forming on your chest.
"Take me all" he panted, his hand grasping your bottom and squeezing it hard "I'm so close, darling, take me"
"Benedict!, I-"
The orgasm came for you first, your core clenched around his cock while your sense only focused on the tantalizing moment of the shock, and he grunted, his hips bucking into yours with the sole purpose of making you keep all of his seed now and never let it go out of you.
Benedict contracted and his mouth opened gasping for air as he came. Your hips were moving and helping him ride out his orgasm. His cock twitched inside you and his hands fell limp by his sides, slowly he went to lay flat while you were still on his lap.
"Y/N" he rubbed his mouth
"Hmmm?"
"You are not allowed to go near the sea, you hear me?"
You chuckled "Why is that?"
"Because you are dangerous, a siren, and you will lure me"
"More than I have lured you now?"
By dinner time, you two were sore of the sun and without help around you were chaotic.
"Stew has carrots"
"Does it?"
"Please" you took the cutting board "Potatoes and tomatoes"
"Can we add..." he closed the basket "Artichoke"
"Sure! With some runner beans"
"Have you tried them?"
"No" you read the small note from the farmer "But he placed them inside"
"They are hard as pebbles" he scrunched his nose as he touched the vegetables "He ought to boil them"
"Alright, let's fill the pot and boil them"
"Is there tea?" he suddenly asked
"Whatever for?"
"Drink"
You rolled your eyes and stopped putting vegetables inside the pan "First we need to boil these, Benedict"
He sighed "I am clueless in the kitchen"
"And I'm not? You come here and fill this pot, I won't starve"
"We should have brought help"
"No"
"and why not?"
"We must learn to be self-sufficient"
"I'm quite sure that no matter where we go we will bring Mrs and Mr Crabtree with us"
"In the meantime we are alone. Did you fill it?"
"Here" he passed the pot
"Thank you" you smiled and placed the pot by the fire you struggled to start then you took the kettle, you placed the pot under the sink and waited for the water to boil "Where's the tea?"
"Uh" Benedict rushed, proud he found it he passed the can "Here, my love"
"Do you know how brew it?"
"O-of course!" he laughed taking the kettle "Mother showed me once"
"Once" you raised your eyebrow
"She had faith"
You nodded and went back to chopping vegetables and he watched how the water slowly started boiling, his mind wandered to the past days and the idea of having a family with you was the thing he was most looking forward to.
"I'm quite confident we have this!" he exclaimed
An hour later you sprinkled salt and butter on top of the bland boiled vegetables while sipping a tea filled with small leaves and dunking a small biscuit in it. So much for being self-sufficient.
That night however among some stomach cramps you slept and woke up with the sound of the waves hitting the shore. The sun was coming out and the smell of salt and seawater was fresh. You went to the balcony and looked at the ocean and the sky, the clouds were forming a beautiful view and you smiled. Breakfast came and it was less of a hassle to prepare, along with the confiture of many fruits. Afterwards, Benedict and you walked around the land, the pines enclosed a beautiful view and the bushes hid foxes and bunnies you tried -and failed- to feed.
By lunch, Benedict prepared lemonade, once putting salt rather than sugar, and ventured to the sea where you swam until your stomach roared. You went back to the cottage and had a light lunch before returning to the water before dinner. That was the routine, oh-so peaceful routine that usually ended with Benedict kissing your waist and burying his face between your legs trying to find something to eat that is not vegetables nor soup.
By the last night inside the cottage, you forgot about dinner at all while Benedict took the orange confitures and smirked at your bare chest by the kitchen table.
"It is like a painting" he said taking a spoonful and letting the translucent syrup drop from the spoon by your skin "It is so beautiful"
You moaned and felt the cold liquid dropping by your chest, his fingers played with the confiture and your body was responding, your legs were slightly shaking at the passive touch.
"We have blueberries? Confiture I mean"
"I believe so"
He chirped and walked back to the cupboard. You could hear him opening and closing, and you saw him going to the sink and opening the jar, he took the spoon and scooped some of the contents of the jar and came back to you.
"Blueberry and orange"
"I don't know but it looks amazing" he let the liquid drop, his movements like the artist he is and he sprinkled more drops by your navel. The heat in your body was rising and the need to be touched was getting bigger and bigger. Benedict dropped a small quantity over the curve of your breast and you were about to scream but then he dropped his mouth and licked the fruit from your body.
"It's too much sugar" you added
Benedict's lips, slightly covered by the syrupy fruit, smiled and licked his lips. He continued to do it again and again. It was so hot in the kitchen that the humidity was starting to get the better of you. He continued licking your skin and his hand grabbed the jar and opened the lid.
"I'm going to ruin you" he whispered, his mouth sucking your neck and the confiture of blueberry dripping into the curve of your stomach
"You already did" you gasped, and another kind of syrup started to form between your legs
"No, dear, this time I will make sure you never forget what means to be loved by me"
He dripped more confiture and his mouth was ravishing your skin. The mixture of his mouth and the cold sweet syrup was driving you mad. Your hips were lifting from the table and your hands were pulling his hair. The need of him, his cock, anything, was consuming you.
"Benedict" you were panting "Don't make me wait"
"Never, my love"
His lips went to your navel and as his hands pushed and pulled the skirt of your dress he found the absence of your pantalettes and grinned at you.
"This is the first time you don't wear them"
You felt like a child as you threw your hands in the air "Are you going to talk about them or do something about it?"
"Impatient" he scolded and his mouth went to your core. The heat coming off your cunt was making him hungry, he could smell your arousal, and his tongue licked the wetness. Better than any sweet syrup he could taste. His hands were holding the back of your thighs as his tongue worked his magic.
You whined and lifted your hips to push his tongue deeper, you needed more friction, but he was not having it. He promised to ruin you tonight, he needed to keep his word. Benedict took his time licking and nibbling the lips and then the hood of your sex, he dipped his tongue inside you and the taste of the fruit mingled with the taste of you and the need of filling himself with you was adamant.
The art of teasing was his masterpiece and as he moved his mouth to the little nub your cries were growing louder and louder. Your legs were shaking and the pressure in your belly was building faster than ever. Your fingers gripped his hair and your legs closed around his head not before he pulled apart and that left you breathless.
"Benedict!"
What a low man he is right now denying an orgasm to the woman he loves but he can't "Forgive me, this cannot end like this. Stand up, love"
He helped you stand up and kissed you, his hands were on your hips and his mouth was devouring yours, his teeth pulling your bottom lip, and you gasped. His tongue tasted like a mix of confiture, and you could feel your essence still there, and his cock was pulsating. He spun you around and softly bent you down. The cold table was hitting your body and his cock was pressing by your backside.
"Benedict, pleaseeeoh! oh!" you felt him inside in one single stride and your hand slapped the table with force "Oh!!"
He grunted at the easiness of his thrust, his hips were meeting yours and he could see the way your ass was moving against his thrusts, he was mesmerized and his hand reached to your hair and pulled your head back.
"I want you to come hard and scream my name"
"I will" you cried, his cock was pushing against the spot that makes you scream.
"Who is making you feel like this, love?"
"Oh, oh!"
"Y/N"
"You! God!"
But he stopped. As much as he liked the sound of his name spilled between your lips he stopped. He took you and trotted to the reading room where he sat on the couch and guided your body to his lap.
"Come here"
"I need you" you whispered as you took his member and aligned it to your entrance
"Then take me"
The position made him feel more intense, you were bouncing up and down and he was thrusting from his angle. He captured your breast in his mouth and sucked hard trying to leave his mark; his hand slapped and kneaded your butt and he loved how it felt.
"Benedict"
"Come" he grunted, and his fingers were rubbing your clit fast "Come with me"
Your mouth parted with the final release of what has been denied of you for some minutes. It felt better, stronger and more craved than an orgasm without teasing. You rode, rode and rode as Benedict was being milked by your insides. He squinted his eyes, flashes of your curves waving front and back as you rode him and dried him again.
Still. He was hard and full for you.
He remained quiet against your panting and allowed you two to giggle yourself out of the frenzy of the moment.
"Well" you rubbed your arm "Hunger is forgotten"
"Not quite" he took you from your hips, pushed you out of his cock and made you -in a second- kneel on the couch
"What ar-"
"Ruining you"
"Benedict"
"Y/N, love"
You screamed as he entered you again, his cock inside of you still strong against your walls and the new angle made the feeling even better. His thrusts were frantic, his hands were gripping the edge of the couch and the sweat was dripping from his chest.
"You're so tight, darling"
Your hands were stopping your head from hitting the armrest while naturally, your ass curved to meet his frantic hips, once, twice, thrice he kept on going and his hand rapidly rubbed your folds.
"Wai- wait!" you said between moans "Oh-wait, I'm-"
"I will make you so full" he rubbed your nub and saw your release under him, how one of your legs stretched backwards as your body quivered and the wetness dripped between your thighs "So full"
He didn't stop, he continued, his cock was throbbing and he could feel the seed ready to burst out and his body was aching, he could not fathom another minute, he couldn't.
"Oh, god!" you whimpered "Oh, Ben"
"My love" he grunted, and the white ropes of cum hit the walls of your cunt, and your walls milked him once more in too much sensitivity you both collapsed.
"That was..." you chuckled, your chest rising and falling "Something"
"Yeah" he said, his body falling by the side of the couch
You were sore, every part of your body was tired, but the warm feeling was present and Benedict's eyes were focused on the ceiling.
"Y/N" he panted
"Yes, love"
"I don't know about you, but I'm famished"
You chuckled, the smell of sex was intoxicating but the thought of having a good meal made the difference.
"Do you crave boiled artichokes?"
"With badly brewed tea?"
"You are reading my mind, Mr Bridgerton"
*-*-*-*
Your eyes darted to the inside of Violet's cottage, a gift from Edmund when she became with child -Anthony- and you felt somehow ashamed at the way you profaned the place. By the dining room, you took the duty of getting Benedict's cock inside your mouth. By the kitchen, Benedict spread strawberry confiture on your breasts and sucked them whole. By the reading room, you two wrinkled so many pages while he trusted into you on top of the desk or last night's encounter that you swore you could smell it in the air.
You blushed at the images and tried to remember if you left the house in a good state. You took your small satchel and left the Bournemouth Cottage -not cottage- and joined Benedict by the carriage.
"We will be back" he promised "Once we settle I will write to my mother and tell her that planning a family event here can be what we all need. Perhaps if Colin hears we will be next to the sea he will join... that man and his travels"
You giggle slumping on your seat "He's next"
"For?"
"For finding someone"
"Oh, so it's between Eloise and Colin, isn't it? What a season will be"
"And Francesca too"
"My God" he closed the door and patted the ceiling "If we have girls, I will never allow them to leave us"
"What if they meet someone like you?"
He snorted "Especially someone like me" he teased "So, where to?"
You smiled "My Cottage"
"Your Cottage understood... Sir!" he exclaimed "To Wiltshire please!"
It was a lost day from Bournemouth to Wiltshire, by dinner you two arrived and Mrs Crabtree could not stop telling both of you how red you were and how she owns a "special ointment" for such burns, Mr Crabtree was fast to argue that the ointment is the one causing burns and not fixing them.
The next morning however as tired as you were you woke up before Benedict, a routine that was well established and your appetite opened not with the smell of boiled vegetables but by a beautiful service a la francaise presented by Mrs Crabtree. You quite devoured most of it leaving Benedict with his share and when he found it, he finished it in half the time you took to eat yours.
"I have some news"
"Hmmm?"
"I read the letters while we were on our Honeymoon. One from my mother saying she expects us before the season ends for one or two balls"
"That is no problem"
"One from Anthony, he asked me to keep track of some accounts"
"The ones you managed while he was on his honeymoon?"
"Those exactly" Benedict took a final sip of tea, "He asked for some help that's all and then... another letter from this professor of mine, he has reached too many families in London and has advertised my talents"
"Oh"
"Yes, he is positive I will start my practice soon"
"I thought you already did"
He blushed "Thank you"
"So, will you open a studio?"
"Perhaps, I'm thinking about it, perhaps" he chuckled "And imagine them buying my own pieces?" he chortled "That must be the best feeling ever"
You reached across the table and squeezed his hand "You better get your supplies, you had an arsenal back in London. If we visit your Mother then we shall take them"
"I shall take that painting of yours"
Your eyes widened "Please tell me you covered it"
"Is not even finished, Y/N"
"Is that an invitation for me to keep posing?"
"Help an artist in need" he smirked
Peace after the honeymoon was achieved. The newfound freedom you got after being married had a certain glow on you. You started reading more, writing and debating more... Mrs Crabtree was quite the best person to polish your argumentative skills, that woman could not hold her tongue at all. It was a month of a blissful marriage life and countless "I can't walk" mornings.
By the time you arrived in London the gates of the Bruton House opened and Hyacinth and Gregory's voice filled the echoing entrance.
"Mother?!" Benedict called out as the children reached him
"In the drawing room!"
She greeted you so warmly, she asked about the cottage and rambled about her times in it, Daphne joined later surprising the rest, she beamed high and radiant with a plump belly and a child in her arms.
"Daphne" you greeted
"Come here, you" she hugged you with her baby by the side "You ought to tell me everything"
"Let me" you tried to help her with the child by her arms "Hi Belinda" you smiled at your good memory "Well, hello beautiful"
"Brother, I must keep Y/N for myself this moment"
Benedict shrugged at the proper way his sister always talked and turned around to talk with his mother, of course not after getting a glimpse of the small creature by your arms, the way you tried to hold her properly and how you failed to keep the poor baby steady, rather bouncing it all over. And he loved it.
That night you and him, presented as married joined Lady Danbury's ball, one of the lasts of the season and where a lot of debutantes went hunting, fiercely, for a "last minute husband".
"I got mine quite fast" you joked to Violet who gave you a small nudge and left to be with Francesca
"You are funny" Benedict said by your side
"I lied…Took us years, doesn't it?"
"Years and few days" he scoffed "Don't make it sound like it was the hunt of my life"
You turned to him with squinted eyes "Oh trust me, husband, if someone was indeed hunting... it was not you"
Benedict bumped your puffy dress skirt and you giggled, he leaned down to your ear as a diamond earring adorned it "But did you like the prize?"
You took your gloved hand and cupped his cheek "The most beautiful, most handsome, and talented man of them all"
Benedict gave you a solemn kiss while the clinking of cups echoed in the ball, he took your hand and guided you away from the crowd. After some head bows and smiles you smirked at the lonely room where he was letting you enter. As the shadows appeared, the music faded behind and the smell now of paper triggered your memory.
"And what are we doing here?"
"Bringing justice" he said, his hand touching his tailcoat but he stopped "You know that since I met you your joy was and still is my joy?"
"I did not"
"And your pain is mine too"
You bit your lip and blushed "What about my love? is it yours too?"
"No, it is quite bigger I'm afraid"
"Well," you smiled "at some point something had to differ... What you got there?"
Benedict slightly shook his head at the moment and took the small book from the inside pocket of his tailcoat "This curious little thing"
"Oh" you took it, your fingers expertly finding the poem he wrote inside, a poem for you "Curious indeed"
"I thought we must leave it where we found it" he shrugged "After all, we lend it and we put part of us there"
Your fingertip grazed the binding "I like the poeticness of the act"
"I knew it"
"Tragic too"
"Why so?"
"Shouldn't we put it on our shelf?"
"And hide our story from everyone else?"
You grinned and stared at his shadowy face "Perhaps then... one of those poems became a tangible thing"
You took the book and allowed yourself to read the poem he wrote, the beautiful curves of his handwriting and the captivating meanings of each verse. You extended to him but he pushed it back to you.
"You ought to put it, you took it"
"Alright"
You placed the book right where you remember you once took it. The memory of that night embraced your chest with nostalgia and a slight sting in your eyes. You blinked and pushed the fragile papers inside, a bit deeper so no one could be seriously interested in it.
"Done"
"Good job" he smiled, his face tilted as he captured in his mind this mere moment "You want to know something more?"
"What?"
He held your hand, discarding your glove as he threw it over his shoulder, he gripped your hand skin to skin"I cannot separate where you end and I begin" he proclaimed
You only could swoon at it with a smile, you allowed him to go first as you took the knob "And that is fine by me" you said, your hand pulled the door to the library and it closed "Because between you and me, there is truly not an end, is it?"
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thegnomelord · 5 months
Note
Shark Merperson reader is real gud.
- 🦈
(HOLY FUCK. THANK YOU TO WHICH EVER ANON REQUESTED THAT BECAUSE I FUCKIN LOVE SHARKS.
Now Im thinking of a Price x Reader, because shars are the oldest species known to exist. Obviously sharks arent immortal, they've just been on this earth way b4 tress bloody existed.
So Im thinking the readers an eldritch creature, they represent sharks as a whole, as long sharks exsist they exsist. Heck they mights of even of been Prices mentor when he was in his draconic 100s? (Late 20s?).
Imagine Price missing his friend calls him up to see hows hes doing. Reader elated to meet an old friend, accepts the invitation to meets up with him. Reader definitely scolds him for lossing a wing, honestly is pertrified Price lost a piece of himself and thought he was retiring due to it. Cut ahort to him smacking him slap dab on the head when he learns he's lost it a long time ago and didnt tell him.
Cue wholesome interactions th 141 and etc. Heck maybe some romance with Price.
Just a blurb i had yo tell you abt)
Okay, this tickles my eldrich abomination trying to act human itch
CW:SFW, eldritch reader, kissing
Price knows you're there the second he steps onto the old wooden pier, able to smell seaweed and brine and something in the air — what he thinks the bottom of the ocean smells like, old rot of decaying whales and older heat of geothermal vents — the soft wind billowing his hair like the breathing of an elderly beast.
He knows you're watching him, passively at least, washed up mermaid purses dotting the beach to give you a glimpse of the world above the waves through the yolks vital for the pup's survival, able to dream of the warm sun and course sand while you slumber beneath the waves.
"Oi, ser, yer look like a wee lass waiting for her sailor." Soap's sharp voice cuts through the air, the werewolf far too energized for his own good, the sand in his fur not dampening his mood when he can just shake himself off and flick the grains on Simon.
"Hah," Price snorts, "Maybe I am." He tilts his head back to the sea, sharp eyes watching the breaking waves. "Time to wake up old friend." He mutters your mangled name under his breath, mortal lips and vocal cords unable to replicate your own voice.
The young ones in his team lack the sight needed to notice your form slowly rise from the sea like a submarine breaking through the ice, only the visible flicker of air and the receding water keying them in. Price old enough to see you without needing the inner surface of his skull to be dotted with eyes. Though even he sees your real form like a man having a stroke — vaguely familiar at first yet the details are undefinable — flesh and sea melding together without rhyme or reason, long strings of seaweed bearing miniature eyes with pups wriggling inside, cookie cutter sharks boring holes through finless corpses so long eel sharks may form ever reforming sinews, fossilized bone and old rock giving giving support to the massive insult to reality's laws; birth and life wrapped up in death.
You're an affront to logic. And with one sneeze from existence itself you're human standing in front of him.
Eerily human.
Perfectly human.
Almost.
"What the fuck?" He can faintly hear Gaz's voice, all of them only now noticing you stand where you weren't previously.
Your hand touches his back before he even registers you move, always slightly damp, "When did this happen?" You ask as you trace the spot where his wing used to be. "What did this?"
"And a 'hello' to you too sweetheart." He clasps a hand around your waist, purring softly in greeting as he pulls you closer to his chest. Even if he sees you once every few centuries, even if you don't possess the ability to reciprocate, his love for you is as youthful as it was when he was but a wyrm.
Your facial features remain neutral like the ones of sunken statues, but you blink, and for a few seconds he can see that yawning abyss in your eyes. "Hi." You say, your hand still tracing the bump created by atrophied flight muscles, trying to judge how fresh it is. "Explain."
Your tone sounds like a predator baring it's teeth, but he knows you wouldn't harm him. "In a lil' bit." He snorts, puts pressure on your back until he forces your legs to move. "Come, want you to meet my boys."
The introductions are odd on both ends considering you hadn't spoken with people other than Price since that Icarus of a passenger ship mistook your fin for an iceberg and they've never met an old one like you. But you like them, they compliment Price just like the small scale he gave you makes the pearls and gold offered to you through the ages shine more.
Even if your face is unreadable, somehow they can figure out you're not too amused when you hear he'd lost his wing during a mission. "I told you arrogance would cost you." You at least you can mimic a sigh as you rub your head, "At least you retired." You say,
"We wish!" Soap snorts before he can help it, and the next thing they hear is a horrific crack that has them jumping out of their skin.
Your head had whipped 180 degrees with the rest of your body remained in place, the laws of nature nothing more but blurry guidelines. "You. . .did retire?" You ask, voice like the roar of a whirlpool.
"About that," Price starts, unable to finish his thought as you slap him upside the head as if he's still the whelp who thought he could brave an ocean storm.
"You'll put me in the grave." You growl, holding him by the ear, words spilling from your mouth like seawater filling the empty bowels of a ship. "I swear your scaly hide hasn't learned a single thing-"
"Should we help?" Gaz wonders as they watch you chastise their captain like he's a boy.
"No, this is great entertainment." Ghost chuckles.
"Want me ta grab the popcorn?" Johnny ads, already snacking, tail thumping against Simon's leg and growling playfully when Gaz reaches for the snacks.
Eventually your anger relents, mood changing as swiftly as the tide. You spend the time they have left learning about the men he's chosen as his hoard. Kyle's a bit weary of you just due to his harpy nature, but soon enough you two can be found sitting on the pier and fishing, and if you purposely make the waves flow so a big fish snags on Kyle's line, Price never says anything about it, not when his boy has a smile as big as the sun when he looks at the gigantic fish flopping on his hook.
You attempting to help Soap cook the barbeque, but you're fine motor skills are rusty after all these years of slumber, so the food is slightly burnt but Price loves when his food's basically charcoal and eats it with a smile, especially as it keeps you from telling all the embarrassing stories you have of him, from when he got his ass bit by a squid to when he was so horny he ended up rutting against an extra curvy piece of rock, though the rest have already heard enough dirt to bury him for the next several decades.
Unfortunately for Price, you and Ghost hit it off like a house on fire, and Ghost ends up learning far too many ways to hurt people without killing them that most definitely are against the Geneva conventions but you pull seniority on it. Simon in turn, teaches you how to play cards, which, when you're literally a god that can see almost everything including your opponent's cards, means the shmucks Simon ropes into playing you and Simon end up with empty pockets.
As the sun stars to dip behind the horizon you wind up sitting next to Price by the fire, the others splashing in the water.
You feel his wing spread behind your back to pull you closer to him, "I missed this." He says, knowing you won't comment on the 'I missed you' hidden behind his vellum words.
"Last time we met like this Napoleon was still emperor." You hum, a small yawn escaping you, sharp tips of shark teeth peeking from human gums. "And you had two wings." You can't help but point out, making it clear you've not forgiven him about not informing you.
Price pointedly ignores your later comment, his hand tentatively, almost shyly, reaching down to sit on top of yours. "Afraid I'll forget about you?"
His pulse picks up when you shift your hand to hold his, fingers lacing together when you don't have a tail as a human. "You wait for me." You shrug, holding your free arm up, reality wheezing for a few moments before his scale is suddenly in your hand, shiny and unharmed just as it was when he'd given it to you all those years ago. "And I dream of you."
His eyes widen and heart melts, a purr rumbling in his chest "C'mere sweetheart," He rumbles and pulls you into a kiss, free hand holding your chin stable.
You taste of salt and blood, of chilling cold and boiling heat, of something ancient and familiar and Price drinks it all down like a babe, tongue licking in your mouth and fangs nibbling on your lip, feeling you respond, the touch of hungering god as soft as silk, just to him.
But he knows this won't last.
A shark has no reason to stay on land, and a dragon can't survive underwater regardless of how much he wants. Soon you'll return to slumber, and Price won't know when he'll see you again, if he'll see you again, or if you'll learn of his passing when your waves swallow up his ashes.
He doesn't notice the prickling in his eyes but you do, wiping a stray tear with the pad of your thumb, your other hand still wrapped around his. "Don't worry John," You say, statue features finally cracking into a small smile, "I'll stay for a little while." You say and lead him into another kiss, the other members of TF141 leaving you two to catch up on lost time...
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kometqh · 6 months
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𝐄𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (fem reader) 𝟓𝐤 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐩𝐭.𝟐 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝-𝐧𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭-𝐰𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 ,𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐀𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐬𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫?
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Tugging at my hair, the wind brushed past me in a hurry. It came from far away, seemingly always looking for something, never being able to find it. Paired with the wind, a steady but small wave washed up against the shoreline, the thinnest part of the wave just barely scraping my feet.
I looked up at the sky. It was partly clouded, but beautiful nethertheless. The sun was just barely breaking through the horizon, casting gentle light across the beach. It mixed with the blue sky and formed a rose-pink colour across the clouds, the shore and the sea. Was it always so beautiful here? 
I shook my head, casting my gaze to the side, my eyes landing on a lone boulder which sat in the water. The exterior was decorated by lavish long seaweed and a cluster of barnacles. It sat proudly in the water, the waves crashing against it every so often, sprays of water flying into the air. It was a pretty sight. Almost pretty enough to distract me from the anxiety tugging at my heart.
A sliver of water touched my feet, before being dragged back to the sea.
Today is my last year of reaping. Today is the day that decides whether I'll be free for the rest of my life, or whether I will die fighting for my life in a gruesome bloodbath.
Though in this context, freedom isn't exactly what one might think it is. Nobody is ever truly free in Panem.
Someone like me would not survive in any of the arenas we've seen so far. I can barely handle killing a fish, let alone an entire human being, a child. I can feel a shiver travel down my spine, and I shake my head, casting those thoughts aside. Nothing will happen, I think to myself, and continue to look at the splashing waves, hypnotised by the rhythmic back-and-forth movement, accompanied by occasional licks of water against the tips of my feet, which have found respite in the sand.
With a sigh, I lean back on my elbows. Squinting slightly, I observe the clouds. None have any particular shape to them, but it feels comforting to stare at them as they move. Would I get to see them in an arena? I don't think so.
Time passed by rather quickly. When you lay on a beach with no form of watch or clock, a minute can quickly become an hour. And before I knew it, I began to notice some small boats setting out into the sea, as the sun slowly climbed up higher into the sky. It must be what...7am? Maybe 8. That's usually when people wake up to go fishing, since the waters are calmer in the morning.
With a sigh, I begin to think of the day ahead. It is mandatory to attend the reaping. If one doesn't, they'll be dragged out of their homes, whipped in the town square, and then forced to watch. I sigh heavily, fingers digging into the sand beneath me, and with a light shake of my head, I reluctantly heave myself up and off the sand, heading towards the treeline.
Nobody really ventures into the wooden forest, in fear of the peacekeepers that guard the borders of District 4. Although I learned very quickly that they're further out than one might think, many citizens of District 4 have no interest in venturing out, believing that there isn't much out there to be seen in the first place.
But not me.
When I was much younger, I'd often run into the forest to go exploring. There aren't many dangerous animals in there, so nobody would worry unless I haven't returned by the evening.
On one of those adventures, I had discovered a bunch of rock pools. Now that may not sound fantastic, but it was. I saw big animals, at the time I wasn't sure what they were, but now I do - they were seals. All bearing different kinds of fluffy coats of fur, ranging from pure white, to a spotty grey, brown and black. 
After that day, I'd always return at least once a week to observe them from afar. I don't know much about them, and I'd prefer to minimise the risk of being mauled by an animal. But each year, I'd see small seal pups, sunbathing around the rock pools, chasing each other over the expanse of the beach, or cuddling up to their mothers.
Other times, when the seals weren't there, I'd venture further out, playing around the rock pools, observing the little creatures stuck in them. Sometimes there'd be small crabs hiding in crevices, other times there'd be small fish swimming endlessly in circles. 
I'd sit there each day, staring at and observing the different animals, until I'd look up and realise I've overstayed my welcome. On one particular day, I walked around the beach for so long, mesmerised by the waves, gazing at the stars in the sky, that I hadn't noticed it was dark. Upon realising it I had hurried back home, still in a daze, but it was already pitch black by the time I returned, and I had gotten the biggest scolding from my mother, asking where I've been. She was quick to ground me, and I wasn't allowed out of other people's sight for almost two weeks.
Annie Cresta, my best friend, had repetitively asked where I went that day, but I never uttered a word of it to her, only insisting that I had been diving too far from the shore. I've been friends with her for years now, practically since we were in diapers.
A long time ago, we'd go out swimming together in the kelp forests near our homes, they were far away from the main area of fishing, but close enough for adults to not worry. We'd often see sea otters swimming around the kelp, but they stayed far from us. Me and Annie would often follow the otters, as they knew where to get Abalone from. But after each return home, we'd be scolded by our mothers, who insisted we had to stop if we didn't want to get into trouble.
I guess finding abalone and bringing it home without the permission of the authorities counts as poaching.
We'd sometimes share some with other families of trusted friends, but mostly Finnick Odair's family, who were just as close to us.
Anyway, I'm not willing to disclose information about the beach, or the animals, to anybody. Not even my long-time crush, Finnick, the boy with sea-green eyes. I've had a crush on him for years now, but his eyes were always on Annie. I can see why, their personalities match so well, Finnick's confidence and caring nature complements Annie's shy and anxious one. I'm just the third wheel whenever all three of us are together, but I guess I don't mind.
I'll find the right one eventually, I hope.
Too deep in my thoughts, I had failed to realise that there was a low lying tree branch ahead of me. And looking up too late, I walked face first into it. The pain struck me all at once, and I swear I heard a tiny 'crunch'.
"Ah! Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!" I shouted, hissing in pain. "Stupid branch! Why is it even there?!" I shouted at no one in particular, holding onto my nose tightly. I slowly let go, feeling the burning pain flare up on my skin like a smouldering flame, and then I felt it. The steady flow of blood. It was everywhere. My face, lips, my hands, even my clothes. Who knew a human nose could bleed so much? I looked over myself, crying out at the state of my shirt.
I have to get home, I thought. With quick, long strides, I soon found myself walking through the front door of my house, being greeted by my mother standing in the kitchen, preparing our clothes for the reaping. "I'm home." I said loudly, my tone laced with annoyance, I stepped in and shut the door behind me, walking into the kitchen, still holding tightly onto my nose.
My mother turned her head to greet me with a smile, but that smile quickly disappeared at the sight of me.
Her face paled and her eyes widened in shock, mouth falling agape as a worried yelp left her lips. "What happened to you dear?!" She screamed, dropping everything mid sentence as she made her way over to me.
I rolled my eyes, sighing loudly. "I walked into a tree branch." I muttered under my breath, my shoulders slumping in defeat.
My mother laughed at me, all of the initial worry dissipating from her body. "Really?" She asked in disbelief, howling in laughter, holding her stomach. After two minutes of her laughing, she finally calmed down enough to take a look at my injury, deciding that some cold, wet rag will be enough to soothe both the swelling and the pain. "Annie will be laughing just as much as you, I bet," I said as I walked over to the tap, turning it on, "'Y/n you're so clumsy!'" I mocked her voice, groaning in anticipation of that knock on the front door, awaiting my closest friend to come and retrieve me. I began to wipe the blood off my face and hands with some water, using a towel to dry off after.
Early this year me and Annie had decided to go to our last reaping together. We had both turned 18, and so it would be the last year that our names would be put into that glass bowl. We were ecstatic over it, but at the same time terrified. This was the last year, but what if one of our names gets pulled out? We're both anticipating it, and praying at the same time that it won't happen. It would be devastating, and I don't believe that either of us are prepared to face 23 other tributes in the arena, let alone kill any of them.
But putting those thoughts aside, I decided to focus on the present. I had managed to drown out my mother's voice, but when I tuned in, I realised she was talking about the dress I'll be wearing. It was a sundress, in the faintest colour of royal blue possible, with a frilled, off-white hem. "I wore it years ago, at my very last reaping too," My mother spoke, her hands lovingly gliding over the faded fabric, "I was told that all the boys looked at me that day." She laughed at the memory, now gently holding the dress by the straps, pressing it against my body. "Hold it, dear."
My hands gently held the dress, and I looked down at myself, my eyes widening in shock as I looked over the intricate designs scattered across the expanse of the dress - sunflowers graced the fabric, painted in the faded blue, overlapping each other.
"Go, try it on dear." My mother said, ushering me to my room, "I'll do your hair after, okay?" She said, and shut the door on me before any words could form at the tip of my tongue.
I shook my head with a small smile, setting the fabric down onto my bed. I turned away, beginning to strip out of my blood-tattered t-shirt, discarding it to a dark corner of my room, my shorts and socks following in tow. I walked a few steps over to a large cracked mirror. It leaned proudly against the wall, reflecting the bright sunrays that made their way into my room.
How many hours has it been?
I looked myself over, turning from one side to another, observing. If my name was to be called out...Would I even have a chance in the arena? Most of the kids that are chosen are frail and skinny, others are fit and healthy, and others are strong and tall. Which category did I belong to? With a loud sigh, I moved away from the mirror and back to my bed, where the beautiful dress laid. I looked over it, staring intensely. The sound of birds chirping in the distance, the gentle breeze coming in through my window, and the smell of the sea all invaded my senses at once. I love this place - no matter how difficult life may be. I'll always have some form of a safe place in District 4. If only the circumstances were different, maybe I'd be able to-
"What are you doing?" A voice asked, ripping me out of my thoughts. I slowly looked over to the person, my eyes going first as my head followed suit. It wasn't Annie, nor was it my mother or sister.
"Finnick?! Look away!" I shouted, grabbing the dress, covering myself up. Maybe I did have a crush on him, but that didn't mean I would happily expose myself. "It's not like you've got something I haven't seen already!" Finnick laughed, a wide amused grin gracing his lips, exposing his pearly white teeth. Though in my embarrassment, I failed to hear the dark undertone in his voice. "I don't care! You don't just invade in on my privacy like this!" I said, chucking one of my pillows at him. "Alright, alright! I'll cover my eyes! Is that good enough?" He asked, a tint of amusement still lacing his voice, but the genuineness was unmistakeable.
"Fine. What did you want anyway?" I asked, slipping the dress on as my eyes focused on him like a hawk, making sure his eyes were covered.
"Just came to say good luck, since y'know, it's your last year of reaping." He said, smiling at me as his hands covered his eyes. I smiled with a huff, and smoothened the dress out over myself. The end of it just about reached my knees, but the material was stretchy enough if I needed it to be. I walked over to my mirror, stunned at how it complimented my skin tone, and looked over myself, turning from side to side, completely forgetting that Finnick was even there for a moment. 
"Can I look now?" He asked, his voice so smooth and gentle it made my heart flutter. "Yes, go for it." I said, walking over to him. 
"How do I look?" I asked, giving him a small twirl. The end of the dress seemed to flow in the air like a jellyfish, the beautiful blue turning almost into a gentle wave, rising slightly before it dropped as I came to a stop.
I looked up to Finnick, searching for a reply, but there wasn't any. He simply stood there, silently watching, but his eyes were slightly widened. I cleared my throat, snapping my fingers near his face. "You look great, I'm sure any guy you want will chase after you after seeing this." He said, almost breathless but still confident, a smirk gracing his lips as he looked me up and down through hooded eyes.
I laughed, shaking my head in denial. "No, I don't think so," I said, leaning against the window frame, staring into those pretty eyes of his. I looked him over, noticing that he was wearing a dark blue tank top, along with some form of tight-fit joggers. His hair glistened in the sun, his skin tan from the rays. His hand slowly reached out to me, and his rough fingers gently latched onto the straps of my sundress, toying with the material. 
His touch against my skin seemed to set it on fire. My heart began thudding aggressively against my chest, and I had to focus on breathing normally, fighting the rising heat in my cheeks.
Does he always have to be so touchy? If he comes any closer he'll be able to hear how fast my heart is beating. 
 "Anyway, have you seen Annie?" I asked, quickly diverting his attention, and his gaze. At that he shook his head, looking up from my shoulders to my eyes. "I was gonna see her after you." He said, biting his bottom lip in thought. 
"I'm sure she'll appreciate it, you know how she gets." I finished quietly as a pang of hurt tugged at my heart. Was I jealous?
"Yeah, but it can't be that bad. What are the odds?" He asked, his fingers lightly tugging at the material of my dress, observing how the fabric bounced back to my skin. His eyes concentrated on the material again, his eyebrows furrowing in worry as he remained silent, still chewing on that lip. I observed him, looking over his hair, it looked so fluffy. His forehead glistened, some sweat having built up, his green eyes stuck in a trance. His fingers felt soft against my skin, and his breath lightly fanned over my neck.
I took a deep breath, focusing on how my chest rose up as air filled it, giving myself a spare moment to realise my thoughts. My hands came to hold his own, gently rubbing the sun-kissed skin.
"It'll be okay, if anything happens...I'll be there." I said, giving his hands a soft squeeze, reassuring him softly, "You better get going. She'll think you won't show up." I stroked his cheek affectionately, smiling down at him. I could tell that Annie was at the forefront of his mind, after all, he did have feelings for her, even if he hadn't admitted it. To anyone. But, as a person who believes herself to be in love, I can recognise another person that's in love. Or so I think. "Go Finnick." I said, pushing him away with the tip of my finger against his forehead.
He sent me a quick but charming smile, nodding softly, saying his goodbye's before jogging off in the opposite direction of my house. I began to feel a sadness tug at my chest, and even though I knew I shouldn't feel like this, I couldn't help it. 
That sadness stayed with me for a while, it stayed as my mother tied small strands of hair together so that it resembled a net, it remained as she talked about the dress my sister would wear, it remained whilst my sister gaped at how pretty I looked, picking at her nails in nervousness, it remained until the moment that Annie's gentle fist knocked at my front door.
My mother quickly opened it, greeting her sweetly. A small 'Where's Y/n?' could be heard, and I peeked my head out, ready to go and face our last reaping.
"Y/n? You look...Amazing!" Annie exclaimed, a bright smile on her face as she trotted up to me, extending her arms for a hug. "So do you Annie, so do you." I said happily, careful not to ruin her hair. It was tied up into a thick ponytail, with a couple of braids running through it, and two strands of hair framing her face prettily. My own hair was let down, however the top pieces were tied together into an intricate net pattern. My mother had outdone herself, genuinely.
Annie's hugs were a different kind of love - warm and gentle, but they conveyed everything that her words failed to. I could tell by the way her hands trembled around me that she was anxious. Annie wasn't a fighter or a hunter, and anyone that had been around her could tell.
Someone began running to the front door, stepping loudly onto the floor. I looked behind me and saw Hali making her way towards me, her arms outstretched. "Are you going now?" She asked, her voice quiet. I wrapped my arms around her in a hug, placing a small peck on the top of her head. "Yes, we want to be there early to avoid the crowds." I said, patting her head with one hand. Hali looked up at me with her big doe eyes, her bottom lip quivering.
"I'll see you there, right?" She asked, and I could hear the fear in her voice. I nodded softly, smiling at her. "Yes, you'll see me and Annie standing with the other oldest girls, alright? I'll wave at you too." I reassured her, not letting go until she was ready. She nodded her head quickly, shaking like a leaf.
"It'll be okay. They won't choose me." As I said it, Hali unlatched her arms, stepping a bit away. "Alright, I really hope not. But what if they do?" She asked, twiddling with her hair. 
"If they choose me, then I'll need you to support me from home okay?" I asked, kneeling down in front of her. "I'll need you to take care of mum, and take care of yourself until I return. Is that okay?" I asked, looking at her with a small smile. She nodded her head, wrapping her arms around my neck in a hug. She didn't want to let go, and Annie had to step in and ask 'Are you ready to go' before Hali unwillingly detached herself from me. With a quiet 'yes', I gave Hali one last hug and a reassuring squeeze of her hand, making my way backwards to the door.
"You'll see me for dinner, okay?" I asked, and she nodded her head, wiping away a few tears. "I love you." She said through her tears.
"I love you too, now go get ready." I said, giving her one last hug before walking out of the house, bidding my goodbyes to both my mum and Hali. "Take care of yourself dear. We'll see you there." My mother said, waving to me as she placed one hand on Hali's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"You'll see me there, mum. I love you." I said, my mother whispered an 'I love you' back, shutting the door gently. With a heavy sigh, I turned to Annie, linking my arm with hers.
 Annie looked at me worriedly, chewing on her bottom lip - a nervous habit she had picked up over the years. "Do you think we'll be okay?" She asked quietly, looking at me, concerned. I nodded my head, forcing a smile onto my lips, even though I could feel the sick tumbling around in my stomach. 
Suddenly, the air began to feel a bit too warm, and I could feel sweat beginning to cling uncomfortably to my skin. "We'll be okay Annie," I reassured her, giving her a side hug, "You've got me." I said quietly, nudging her to keep moving forward.
The town square wasn't so far away that we had to hurry, yet we made it there in record time. The queues weren't massive, and so we got through to the courtyard rather quickly, holding onto our throbbing fingers. It wasn't long until everyone else had slowly started filing into the courtyard, every person of every age group was there. I looked around, noticing how quickly the yard had filled with people. My eyes then looked at the entrance, trying to see my sister and mother. Soon enough they entered the courtyard, hand by hand heading to the side-lines, where other adults and young children would file and stand. 
Hali's big, wide eyes scanned the area, and she looked like a lost rabbit, all alert and ready to run. She was looking for me, and soon our eyes connected and I sent her a reassuring smile and a thumbs-up.
I then looked forward, staring ahead at the temporary golden podium. There were four chairs situated just behind the single podium and two glass balls on each side of it. One chair is for our Mayor, one for the announcer, and two for the two Victors from District 4; Finnick, and an elderly woman named Mags. Everyone is seated in the appropriate seats. 
Once the crowd begins to come to a stall, the Mayor takes it as his sign to walk up to the microphone, looking up at the big clock above him, clearing his throat.
It struck 12. 
He begins by greeting the citizens, and then proceeds to tell the history of Panem, as he does every year. He talks about the natural disasters, the uprisings, the destruction of District 13 - all of this is old news. After overcoming the Dark Days, laws were created, and alongside them so were the Hunger Games. I manage to tune out his voice, and instead focus on those behind him.
The announcer, who every year comes from the Capitol, gets the opportunity to personally pick out which children will be sent to their deaths in a bloodbath. 
Her hair was styled into some sort of glamorous, 3 story high bun, with a few loose strands framing her oddly sharp face. It was dyed an unnatural golden colour, and had sparkling silver beads embedded into it, two particularly large ones placed just at the tip of her hair strands, sitting comfortably on the frilly material of her sparkling, turquoise two piece - a skirt and a corset, her feather-like, white skin covered by the material of a matching jacket. She really outdid herself.
Seated on her left were Finnick and Mags, both looking over the crowds, both wearing unreadable expressions as the Mayor continues to talk. 
For a second, I believe that Finnick has noticed me, it looked as though he was looking directly into my eyes. His sea-green eyes peeking into my very soul. My heart fluttered, and the butterflies started circling around in my stomach. I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. I took a deep breath, but then I'm harshly hit with reality, and remember that Annie was right next to me, probably looking at him too.
He looks away as the Mayor begins to name the winners of District 4, and stands up along with Mags to wave at the crowds, being greeted with the appropriate level of applause. Curt and short, but it didn't matter. Next, the Mayor announces the Capitol representative, Sylvia Borgnino, and she stands up, waving excitedly at us, making tiny steps towards the microphone, her cheery voice echoing around us in seconds. 
"Happy Hunger Games everyone! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" She shouts excitedly, almost hopping on her toes. 
I guess there is at least one person here that's happy about the games. 
She thanks the Mayor for his kindness and welcoming, and then quickly turns back to us, the audience, her voice changing to a more serious tone.
"And now," She pauses, leaning over the podium and looking over at everyone, "We shall draw the names of the Tributes." She states, slowly walking over to the glass bowl full of girls' names, the sound of her heels clacking, beating at my eardrums.
"Ladies first."
I look over to Finnick, and then Annie, and then Hali. Hali is already looking at me, and so is my mum. I reach my hand out to hold Annie's, squeezing tightly as I feel how clammy her hand is, my chest tightening as I breathed. I swallow an imaginary lump, feeling how my throat constricts uncomfortably.
The sun was beating down on us, its' rays glazing over my skin, bubbling up sticky sweat. Were did the clouds go?
Wearily, I glance up at the large clock towering over us, its' heavy ticking weighing down on my shoulders.
Sylvia Borgnino's gloved hand shoots up into the air dramatically, and the crowd collectively goes silent. No one dares to even breathe as she animatedly rummages through the name cards for a solid 10 seconds.
It better not be me. I swear if it's me I will riot, I think to myself. The nerves tickle at the inner lining of my stomach, and for a moment I believe that I might throw up.
A bead of sweat trickles down the side of my forehead
Tick, tock.
Was the sun always so hot?
Tick, tock.
I swallow heavily.
Her hand grasps onto something, and she dramatically withdraws it, menacingly crossing over to the podium.
"And the female tribute from District 4 is.."
Please not me. Not me. My breathing quickens as she draws on her silence, smiling devilishly down at the crowd. My hair was sticking to my neck, creating an unpleasant sensation. 
I swallow dryly, my mouth feeling as though I had been deprived of water.
As the words leave her mouth, I can feel my heart drop.
"Annie Cresta."
Time seems to stop. I can no longer feel Annie's hand in my grasp, her fingers having slowly slipped out. I turn my head, feeling my chest heaving up and down, tears pricking at my eyes. My hands fly up to my mouth in shock, intense tremors travelling from my shoulders up to my fingertips.
Annie falls to her knees with a thud, hiding her face in her hands as she cries out hysterically, her mane-like hair looking like a flame. I follow suit, embracing her in my arms, whispering quiet 'It's okay's', holding her head on my shoulder. The other girls slowly step away, creating a circle around us.
What do I do? Do I let her go? That girl won't last a minute in there!
Two peacekeepers rip through the crowds aggressively, roughly pushing anyone out of their way, before coming to a stop in front of us, heaving Annie up by her arms, ushering her towards the stage. Her face is covered in sweat and tears, her fiery hair sticking uncomfortably to her face, her mouth wide open as she wails.
"Please! No! I can't go in there!" She screams, digging her heels into the ground, protesting, thrashing her arms around. She looks as though she suddenly became haunted, a sort of violent air surrounding her. 
With small footsteps, I attempt to follow after her, but more peacekeepers arrive to stop me, creating a blockade of bodies. I look towards my mother and sister, eyes wide, and see their shocked faces. My mother is shaking her head in a 'no', but it's too late. Hali looks at me wide-eyed, tears starting to fall from her eyes as she senses what I'm about to do. 
I look to Finnick, noticing that he had stood up from his chair, his fists clamped shut, once tan skin now having turned a strained white colour. His eyes are stuck to Annie, and never dare to leave her once.
Before Sylvia Borgnino can utter a single word, I raise my hand, pushing through the peacekeepers. All heads turn to me. The guards stop pushing Annie, and she looks to me, her thrashing easing a bit.
The words leave my lips before I can even process them myself. 
With a dry mouth, clammy hands and a wildly beating heart, I shout, "I volunteer!"
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princessbrunette · 4 months
Note
we had daddy John b with snack time,but about him having to remind us to drink water especially when out maybe at the beach
-🥞
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it’s days like these that remind john b of just where the ‘puppy’ nickname came from. you’re barrelling around the beach with jj, who’s been winding you up to no end as you run after him, giggling and tripping over sand as he goads you, the rest of your friends splashing about in the sea.
john b reclines on his towel, leaning on his elbows as he watches you with a smile, one eye squinted from the sun. he catches you stop to take a breath, panting practically the same way an overheated dog would and it rings an alarm in his brain to bring you in for a water break. the brunette pushes himself up to his feet, taking a few steps before whistling to get your attention.
“hey you, water break.” he calls, bending over to rifle through the freezer bag before pulling out your water bottle, shaking it at you in gesture.
jj makes some kind of silly joke that your boyfriend doesn’t quite pick up and you whirl on him, going to chase him again but john b calls out to you once more.
“coooome on.” he coo’s in that warm, friendly tone and you find your feet floating over to him on the sand obediently. “good job.” he uncaps the bottle before bringing it to your mouth, cupping the back of your damp head as he feeds it to you. “there you go, were looking a little parched out there. maybe quit the running around for a little, hang out with me.” he hums, pulling the bottle back and drinking some himself once you were done.
“jj is training me to be a ninja.” you state nonchalantly, letting him guide you over back to the towel.
“that’s my nightmare.” jb quips, settling down into his rested position, laying a hand on you once you’re seated almost like he was making sure you didn’t suddenly bolt off. “having fun though, pup?”
“tonnes!” you grin, and he can’t help but smile back.
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talesofesther · 6 months
Text
what once was mine | ch 7
Loki x Reader
Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.
A/N: I apologize in advance lol.
Masterlist | Read ch 6 here
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Your feet buried in the sand, just inches from the gentle waves crashing to shore. You could smell the salt in the air, feel it on your skin as the wind carried droplets of water until it reached you. The sun kissed the horizon of the ocean beside you, painting the waves in streaks golden.
This was possibly your favorite thing about New Asgard, the ocean.
Or, second favorite, you thought, as you squeezed the hand holding your own.
"And Thor wouldn't listen to me, of course," Loki continued the story, his feet burying in the sand just as yours did. One of his hands interlocked with yours, the other holding his shoes. "Not until the whole tent came crashing down on him."
You giggled, the soft wind carried your laughter and messed up your hair, "Thor never was the brightest at learning our 'contraptions', as he would call them."
"No, I guess not," Loki mused, a smile of his own lingering on his lips.
You looked up at him then, watching as the fading sunlight reflected against his bright eyes and shaped the curves of his smile. You'd never tire of the sight, of him by your side.
"You should come with us next time," Loki suggested, apparently just as lost in you as you were in him.
"Camping?" You raised a brow.
Loki nodded, stopping in his tracks. He dropped his shoes to the sand without a second thought, so he could take hold of both your hands. "You'd make it better."
His voice, however, began to sound far away. You frowned, looking around as the golden sunlight seeped away, making room for a grey and stormy sky. The wind picked up speed, cutting into your skin like needles. The sea, once calm and serene, now raged and thundered against the shoreline.
"You always do." Suddenly, Loki's voice was nothing but an echo.
You didn't have time to hold him tighter before his hands were snatched away from yours.
Stumbling forward, you tried running after him, but the sand began to swallow your feet. Panic settled into your chest and got your heart racing.
You looked up, but you shouldn't have.
His eyes were bloodshot, his feet held off the ground as he struggled against the bruising grip on his neck. When Loki looked into your eyes, tears were running down both your cheeks. Blood trailed down his mouth as he choked for a breath. "Run," it was a plea, so quiet and weak past his lips.
The last thing you heard was a sickening crack.
You woke up with a scream lingering on your lips, sitting up on your bed and already clawing at your chest for the air that you desperately needed yet couldn't get a hold of. You didn't know if you were sobbing or coughing, perhaps a bit of both.
The tears were non-stop, dripping down your chin and dampening the collar of your pajama shirt. You threw the covers away from your body, feeling trapped on your skin. Burying your head on your trembling hands, you did your best to try and catch your breath.
It had been a while since you've had a nightmare this haunting.
─── ·❆· ───
You felt numb. The day began and you couldn't feel anything besides the emptiness in your chest. Foolishly, you had thought you'd finally outgrew the bad memories, the grief. You wondered if you ever would.
As you walked through the hallways of the TVA, you thought back to yesterday; to the rain, the northern lights, and him. He who had those same dark curls, those same bright eyes, and alabaster skin that you saw in your dreams and nightmares. Each day it became harder and harder to believe the lie you insisted on telling yourself.
As if on cue, you heard the stomping of someone running to catch up with you.
"Good morning," Loki greeted, just a tad out of breath as he fell into step beside you.
You closed your eyes for a moment after hearing his voice. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you nodded without looking at him. "Morning."
Loki noticed, he felt the shift in the mood, heard it in your tone. You know he did, because he hesitated. "Um-" He tried to start; you could perfectly picture his eyes being unable to find a place to focus even if you weren't looking.
"I've been thinking," he tried again, and you could hear the tentative smile on his words, "For the next time you manage to borrow Mobius' tempad, I- I have a place I would like to show you, if you'd like."
There were tears brimming in your eyes. You weren't sure why. Maybe because this was such a Loki way for him to try and ask you out. Maybe because you could feel your heart melting for him as it found its home again after being in the cold for so long, and that terrified you.
"Yeah…" You cursed under your breath when your voice came out broken and strained. You cleared your throat. "I don't know when he'll let me borrow it again, so," you shrugged, quickening your steps, "I guess we'll see."
Loki fell behind just for the time it took for him to mull over your words. It didn't take much effort for him to match your pace again. "Yes, of course."
The sadness dripping from his voice made your heart clench. You didn't want to hurt him. But you didn't want to hurt yourself either.
Finally reaching your desk in your secluded nook of the library, you immediately busied yourself with threading over the fresh stack of documents resting on top of it. Pointedly avoiding Loki's concerned look.
"I can help you with those," Loki suggested, already reaching for a spare chair.
"You really don't have to," You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible, turning on your table lamp.
"I want to," he told you with that softness reserved for you only. "We can finish it twice as fast and maybe stop for tea-"
"Loki, stop!" You suddenly snapped, finally turning to look at him. "Can you just leave me alone for one goddamn second?" You hadn't meant for your voice to come out as harsh as it did.
Loki lowered his head so you weren't able to see the pang of hurt in his eyes. His hand went limp as he slowly let go of the chair. Still, he took a step closer to you and asked; "Are you alright? Did something happen?"
Of course he would be able to tell. Of course he'd put your pain above his own.
You surrendered the facade with a sigh, and a single tear rolled down your cheek. "I keep seeing…" It was difficult to think of it, let alone say it. You closed your eyes. "The day I lost him, I- I keep seeing it over and over. Even after all this time."
You had gotten better, for a while, keeping busy in the TVA had somewhat helped. But you knew you only buried the feeling, never dealt with it. And then Loki—this Loki, the one who would be yours—found his way to you, and everything crumbled again. Those bright eyes of his were still the same you've always known, after all; and between the memories you had together that only you had lived, and the way his soul tangled with yours as if they never parted, you didn't know what to feel.
Your chin wobbled and a sob fell past your lips. "And I just want it to stop hurting… I just him back."
Seeing you like this, it hurt. Loki took half a step closer to you, his glassy eyes gauging every twitch of your muscles. If you told him to leave, he would, even if it's the last thing he wanted. Your pain pierced his soul like an arrow, tearing and making it bleed. More than anything, he found himself only wanting you to be okay.
No names were needed. Loki knew, just from the way you were adamantly refusing to look at him; he knew you were talking about… him.
Carefully, testing tentative waters, Loki reached for one of your hands. He held his breath when you tensed as his skin touched yours. His fingers closed gingerly around your wrist and he pulled your hand up with a gentleness he didn't know he was capable of.
You let him. You weren't sure why, but you did.
Loki brought your hand to rest above his chest, flat against his beating heart, and held it there, with his own hand still grasping yours tightly. He hesitated. He was afraid, he realized. Afraid of losing you.
Only when Loki opened his lips to speak, did he taste his own tears that had fallen. "I'm here." It was nothing but a breath. "I promise. I'm here." He tried, it was all he could give you; himself.
You clutched the fabric of his shirt, fingers shaking. You leaned your forehead against his shoulder as another sob escaped you. As the waves pulled you under.
In a place out of time, time stood still. For a precious second, only you and him existed.
You looked up after what felt like an eternity, your lips hovering as you struggled to hold his gaze. "But you're not him." The half smile that stretched the tear tracks on your cheeks held nothing but sorrow.
As if ripping apart a piece of his soul, Loki reluctantly let go of your hand. "What is it you have against me?" He whispered, pleaded.
You'd never seen him this vulnerable. His ocean eyes glimmered under the dim artificial lights of the library, eyebrows pulled softly together in what looked more like loss than confusion.
"And what is it you have with me?" You found yourself whispering back, just as desperate. "For you, we never met." Your voice broke and then dripped with frustration, "You have nothing to lose. So what is it that you want from me?"
It was selfish to put the blame on him, just because he brought back the same warmth you've been missing for so long. But you were hurting, and broken things tend to have sharp edges.
Loki's lips hovered open and he shifted his gaze down, almost as if ashamed. He held the silence for a beat longer. "I guess I just…" He stopped, and forced himself to look into your eyes. "I saw how much you loved your Loki… I think I was jealous, and I was selfish, for wanting the same thing he was lucky enough to have." His smile was that of someone who knew when he'd lost. "You."
All emotion drained from your face. It felt like a bucket of icy water being dropped on top of you.
Had Loki actually fallen in love with you?
For a moment you wondered if, in every reality and every lifetime, you were destined to fall for each other. As the universe's own twisted version of soulmates.
You would've laughed at such a sweet thought, if it hadn't just made your heartbeat skyrocket. Because deep down, you knew you'd fallen for him as well. Again. As you always knew you would.
In every lifetime. As you promised you would.
And it terrified you, because what if you were destined to fall, yet also destined to lose?
"I'm sorry," you breathed, tasting the salt of your tears on your lips. You took staggered steps away from Loki. "I'm sorry, I- I can't."
I'm sorry, I don't know if I can pick myself back up if I ever lose you again. So I'd rather not have you at all.
"Please, I-" Loki started, yet he didn't know what he was pleading for.
But you shook your head vehemently. "I need," your voice stumbled, "I'm sorry- I just need a moment alone."
You turned around then, walking away and taking Loki's heart with you. His eyes refused to watch you leave again, luckily he had tears to blur the memory.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Ch 8 coming soon.
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks
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girlgenius1111 · 6 months
Text
i love you... it's all i can think
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love you anyway part 2
alexia x reader proposal
Alexia was freaking out. She didn't think she'd ever been this nervous before, in her whole life. Not before the UWCL final. Not before the World Cup final. Not before her knee surgery.
She knew, realistically, that you'd say yes. You'd talked about marriage before, and both of you had expressed your desire to get married. Still, as she walked with you, hand in hand towards the boat, she couldn't help the waves of anxiety washing over her.
You were only slightly suspicious. She'd told you she was planning a surprise for the night, which looked like it was going to be a evening on the sea with her. This trip was partly a birthday trip for you, though, so you chalked it up to that. You'd never really let yourself believe that Alexia would propose. She was so perfect, in every way, it seemed too good to be true.
"After you, mi amor," she murmured, reaching a hand out to help you onto the boat. You smiled at her, pecking her cheek as you passed her. She preened at the gesture, smiling softly to herself. Once you were on the boat, she put her bag down, pulling you in by the hand for a hug. Even when the source of her anxiety was asking you a question, Alexia couldn't resist the comfort she got from your embrace. You held her tightly, enjoying the feeling of her warm, tanned skin against yours. After a minute you pulled back, placing your hands on her cheeks.
"Are you alright, baby? You've been quiet today," you wondered, studying her closely.
"Si, I'm fine, just a little tired. Excited to relax," she replied, just a hair too quickly. Still, you nodded, letting her go, and reaching for the bag she'd put down. She stopped you though, grabbing it and pulling it out of your reach. You looked at her questioningly.
"What do you need? I'll get it for you," she said, voice a little strained. You gave her a weird look, but requested a bottle of water. She pulled one out, handing it to you, before placing the bag on the table, across the boat from you.
She was only wearing a light, flowy, sundress, and there was no where else for her to hide the ring, but in the bag. The whole day she'd been resisting cracking and just asking you before she had planned to. In bed this morning, when the sun had been streaking in through the window, painting you in a golden light. In the kitchen, during breakfast, when you'd come up behind her, wrapping your arms tight around her abdomen as she whisked the eggs, pressing a few kisses into her shoulder blade. In the car, when you'd put on her favorite playlist, and began singing along easily, head bobbing along adorably to the beat.
Still, Alexia held strong, knowing that you wouldn't mind any of those options. However, she didn't think she could take the teasing if everyone found out that she couldn't wait a few hours to propose to you. Her teammates already teased her relentlessly about how absolutely soft she was for you.
Driving the boat to the little private beach, she watched you out of the corner of her eye, hair flowing in the wind. You were wearing white linen shorts, and a cropped black top. You looked so relaxed, so at peace, so fucking beautiful. Your girlfriend added this moment to the tally of times she almost slipped up.
The beach came into view soon enough, and you could just barely see a picnic set up on on the sand, a blanket carefully laid out, a picnic basket and a bottle of champagne sitting in an ice bucket.
"What's all that?" you asked, confused as she hadn't said anything about a picnic.
"You'll see." Alexia said coyly, smirking at you from behind her sunglasses. She pulled up to the dock easily, and you swore the way she drove the boat was one of the hottest things you'd ever seen. Turning the motor off, and securing the boat to the dock, she looked at you, an expression on her face that you'd never seen.
"There's one more surprise, but you have to close your eyes, vale?"
You shut your eyes tight, reaching your hand out to her. She chuckled, grabbing the little box in one hand and you in the other, guiding you off the boat, being incredibly careful not to let you fall. She walked you to the end of the dock making sure your eyes were still shut. Off the end of the dock, the sun was setting, a splash of colors lighting up the sky. Pinks, oranges, purples.
"You better not be about to push me into the ocean," you warned, only half joking. She laughed nervously, and you held tighter to her hand. She instructed you to open your eyes, one hand behind her back, holding the box. You opened your eyes, looking around curiously, only seeing your girlfriend, and the sunset, both of which had been present before you'd shut your eyes. Alexia caught your confusion.
"Alright, it's less of a surprise and more of a question," she said nervously, all of the things she'd thought up to say escaping her brain. "I love you," she blurted out, pausing, clearly not sure what else to say. You'd never seen her this flustered before, and decided to help her out. It was becoming clearer to you where this was headed, and you couldn't wipe the grin off your face.
"I love you too, baby, but that's not a question," you said softly, squeezing her hand.
"Right," she said. Alexia was slightly -very- humiliated at how lost for words she was. She'd had a speech, she'd practiced it; in the mirror, to her mom, to Alba, to Mapi. And now the only words she could think were I love you. Honestly. You were looking at her like you didn't care though, like she could simply present you with the ring and you'd say yes, even if she didn't say a word. She looked into your eyes, your captivating eyes, and opened her mouth, the words suddenly flowing.
"I love you, so much. My love for you surpasses what words can describe. You changed my life in ways I cannot explain. I didn't know that I could feel things so deeply until I met you. The way I feel about you, it makes my chest ache. I can't comprehend it sometimes, how everything I want, everything I need, comes back to you," Alexia's voice was starting to break, and she cleared her throat, determined to hold it together.
"There are so many things I want to say; I could spend hours here with you, telling you all the ways you make me a better person. You make me happier than I've ever been, and I want to spend every minute for the rest of my life, doing everything I can to make you just as happy." At that, she got down on one knee, holding the ring out in front of her. You were crying, tears streaming down your face at her words. Alexia wasn't an especially expressive person; you knew she loved you, her actions told you every day. You'd never expected her to make such a big verbal statement though, to tell you exactly how much you mean to her.
"Y/n, will you marry me?" she asked, smiling up at you through trembling lips, and opening the box.
You let out something that was between a sob and a laugh, reaching out desperately for her arms, and pulling her to her feet. Throwing yourself into her, she caught you easily.
"Yes, Alexia. Yes," you cried into her ear, and you felt her whole body relax against you, as she let out a sigh of relief. Pulling back, you pressed your lips hard against hers.
"Did you think I wouldn't say yes, Ale?" you asked incredulously. Alexia blushed.
"I knew you would, but I was still nervous. You know I hate keeping secrets."
"There is no universe in which I say no to that question from you, Alexia. You could ask anywhere, at any time, and I'd say yes," you promised, rubbing your thumbs over her cheeks to wipe the tears away. Alexia pulled you back into a bone crushing hug, picking you up and spinning you around, much too dangerously for 2 people fully dressed standing on a narrow dock. You laughed in her arms, feeling her grin into your neck.
She put you back down, holding her hand out, wordlessly asking for yours. You gave it to her, and she pulled the ring out of the box, slipping it onto your ring finger. It was breathtaking, one large ovalular diamond, 2 smaller ones on either side. The band was lined with smaller diamonds, that sparkled in the sun light. Your jaw dropped looking down at it, before you raised your eyes to Alexia's. She was smirking at you, knowing very well she'd picked the perfect ring.
"You like it?" She asked smugly. You nodded, completely speechless. Alexia pulled you in again, kissing you in a much messier way, her hand lacing through your hair. You pulled away, lips puffy, breathless, and pressed your forehead to your... fiancee’s.
"Picnic time, si? And then we can go back to the villa," she said suggestively, and you threw your head back, laughing.
"Anything you want, baby. After that speech? And this ring? Anything you want." you whispered into her ear, and Alexia shuddered. She'd never been more in love with you, than in that moment.
-----
okay so... obviously i need to write post engagement smut but i'm in more of an angsty fic mood rn and i don't want to half ass it so part 3 will be filthy, i promise. I am actually, seriously, begging people to send in requests of what you want to see smut wise; if you ask i'll probably write it :)
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saekkas · 1 year
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒
summary: in which someone catcalls you and he's there to defend.
includes: isagi, nagi, reo, yukimiya, rin, sae, kunigami, kaiser, karasu, bachira, aiku.
note: i split it into two this time because i honestly can't see them doing anything else.
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𝐉𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 as if he doesn't know you, even with his hands clearly around your waist. does it to out of love above anything else, it's his way of trying to make you comfortable. will try to be playful with his actions and words but if anyone takes a step towards you? it's on. (you know that, "wear whatever you want, babe. i can fight." that's him atp)
reo, aiku, kaiser, bachira, karasu
the sun's bright overhead, not too blinding, with just the right amount of heat to tan. he sighs in content, the sand underneath his bum perfectly warm as you lather sunscreen on his back. a beautiful beach and a gorgeous girl running her hands down his back? this better be the view he sees at the pearly white gates of heaven.
the hand on his back is smooth and he groans when you gently massage the knots out of his neck. "keep doing that and i might just marry you sooner."
he hears you snort before anything else. there's no other reply and he relaxes once more, leaning his head onto your shoulder. he squints at the sun shining directly into his eyes.
"careful there, hotshot. you might get wrinkles. and i don't want to marry a wrinkly, 68-year-old looking guy."
something blocks the sun from his vision, and he has to blink multiple times, letting his eyes adapt to the change of scenery. he sees you grinning down at him, your face upside down, and the sun's halo shinning behind your head.
"hi, gorgeous." the smile on his face is nothing but awestruck, his eyes molding into the shape of hearts. "missed you and your beautiful face."
there's another snort from you and he yelps at the feeling of cold sunscreen hitting his face.
"me and my beautiful face have been behind you this whole time, loser. who knew you were such a simp."
the droplets on his face are cold but the warmth of your hand rubbing them into his skin makes it all better. his eyes gaze up at your face before trailing down your body, drinking in the sight of your bikini. "you should wear that more often. every day around the house often."
he yelps, scrunching his nose when you playfully bite it.
the touch of your hand on his body is soft and warm, a complete contrast from the rugged sand beneath you both and it has him shivering. "what? can't i compliment my favorite girl?"
he smiles when you plop down on his lap, laughing at the roll of your eyes.
"i'm your only girl," you say, body relaxing into his hold. "well, i better be."
he can only laugh in response, wrapping his hands around your waist and playing with the strap of your top. "i'm only yours, angel. i'm hurt that you'd even think otherwise."
there's a strong gust of wind, blowing sand everywhere as the trees sway in their place. he tightens his hold on you, letting you hide your face in the crook of his neck.
when it subsides, he's quick to place his hand on your cheeks, softly looking into your eyes. "is my baby okay? need me to blow away the sand from your eyes?" his tone is sweet, playful. the pads of his fingers rub circles on your cheeks, and he leans in, placing his forehead against yours. "need me to kiss it better?"
the sound of a high-pitched whistle drowns out your sassy reply of just say you want a kiss and go. a rowdy pair of teenagers stand by the ocean's shoreline, grinning madly when his eyes land on them. their shouts of pretty lady you got there, wanna share? and stop being a hog, let us in on some fun, eh? falls on deaf ears as he looks down at you with a wink.
"no but they're right, eh? i've got such a pretty lady on my lap." his eyes are gentle and calm as the sea, they reflect the worry you feel inside. his hands ground you, picking you up easily to switch positions so that you're covered by his back, safe from prying eyes. "should we go back home for some more fun? what do you say, angel?"
he lays your head down against his chest, letting you hear the gentle thud of his heartbeat. "this beach is overrated anyway. it doesn't even have a lifeguard." he nudges your forehead with his nose, smiling cheekily. "honestly? never mind. that's a good thing because if i were a lifeguard, i'd give you mouth-to-mouth all day long."
his smile widens just a fraction when you giggle, happy to see that your eyes are starting to show their shine.
"you're awful at this," you giggle, pushing his shoulder playfully. "what kind of pickup line was that?"
"oh?" he pretends, widening his eyes as he points at the center of your forehead. you know it's all theatrics, but you fall for it either way. "what's this? do you have a sunburn?"
he trails his finger down your arm and onto your belly, stopping at your thigh when you look at him with confusion.
"what do you mean?" you ask, tilting your head with a small smile. "i put on sunscreen earlier."
he's quick to lean in, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "yeah, you're right. it was just your usual self being hot." the smile on his face widens into a grin when he hears you laugh, and it drives him to nuzzle his nose against your neck.
"there's my angel. or should i say sandcastle? because i want to build my dreams around you."
he leans back, trying to dodge your hand only to laugh as you both fall onto the sand. he looks at you, letting his hand trail down your cheek as you hover above him, matching grins on your faces.
"what was that for?" his laughs have trickled down into low chuckles. he lets himself fully immerse in the sand, propping a hand behind his head. "am i that irresistible, angel?"
"you're such-"
"oh? what's this?" the two boys from earlier watch you with crooked smiles and bad intentions clear in their eyes. they move forward, starting to close in. "should we join in-"
"back off." his eyes are dark, and his voice is low. there's a clear line of annoyance in his tone as he stands, pushing you behind him. his stance is intimidating, clearly protective with the glare set on his usually always smiling face. he quirks an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk appearing on his lips. "or i'll make you."
they back off at his threat, bowing their head to you as they leave.
he holds you in his hands, nuzzling his face into your hair as if he wasn't initiating a fight just a few seconds ago. "let's go, angel. i'll buy us some ice cream." he takes your hand, winking as he playfully taps your bottom.
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𝐍𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐘. he's the type of guy who will not realize someone's bothering you, honestly. if anyone asks why, it's because his eyes and entire being is fixated on you, and you only. why should he even care about some random ant on the street? it's just you and him, his baby, his world. nothing else matters in his eyes.
sae, rin, nagi, yukimiya, kunigami, isagi
"it isn't too crowded today." his words are blunt, a matter of fact that you can't help but giggle at. he eyes you, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips at the sound. "we should go in before it's too busy."
he takes your hand by your side, slipping it into his as you make your way into the cat cafe. he hums, scrunching his nose and withholding the need to sneeze as he lets you take everything in. the cafe is spacy, a big section for the cats to play in that's separate from the food corner.
he takes a seat near one of the scratching poles, leaning his back on the seat. his eyes are locked in on you, watching as you squat down to pet a cat on its head, chuckling when you startle as the cat jumps to one of the higher beams.
"you're so mean for laughing." he watches the syllables form on your lips, takes in the color and shape of your mouth. it's only when they form into a smirk that he moves his gaze back to your face. "you promised to play with the cats, remember?"
he only blinks up at you, similar to a cat himself, before sighing at your puppy eyes. nodding his head, he sets onto his feet to follow you deeper into the room, looking at the trail of cats that have begun to follow you both.
there's an empty bench that you lead him to and he sits dutifully, letting you plop a cat onto his lap. his motions are mechanical at best, he pats the cat's head, scratches under its ears, and stays away from its tail, the way you showed him how. anyone who's watching can clearly tell the cat isn't his main attention, it's you.
he feels the cat purr in hips lap and continues stroking it, but his eyes are never far from you. he sees you buying a packet of treats, watches as you squat down to feed the little white kitten by your feet, admires as every other cat suddenly comes swarming in. he chuckles to himself, so wholly focused he doesn't realize that someone's come to sit beside him.
"that's such a pretty kitty, mind if i take her home?"
he doesn't answer. not at first. he simply observes you, from the gracefulness of your movements to the sweetness of your smile. he only tears his eyes away to look at the stranger when he laughs.
"can i help you?" his tone is dull, clearly not wanting to be disturbed. he looks at the stranger for a few more seconds before turning back to you, the cat still peacefully asleep in his arms.
"not at all. i just wanted to know whether your cat's for sale."
he doesn't catch the underlying meaning of the stranger's words. you've got a beautiful persian with discolored eyes in your arms now, cooing the name Oscar at the thing. he tilts his head, wondering whether you'll do the same to him for taking you here today.
"i'd like to take her home. play with her until i'm bored, ya know?"
he watches from the corner of his eyes as the stranger leans back against the bench, a sickening smirk on his face. he realizes belatedly that the stranger's looking at you.
anger simmers in his eyes as he looks at the stranger with his coldest eyes, tone uninterested. "you wouldn't be able to take her. she's a feisty one, needs a man to take care of her. not some sleazy bastard."
he watches with boredom as the stranger clenches his fist. there's a hint of a smirk on his face as the stranger starts to stand up, clearly wanting to fight, only to step on cat vomit.
"oh no, oscar!" you gasp from behind the stranger, looking at the cat in your arms worriedly. "are you okay? you sick, baby?"
he watches in amusement as the stranger turns to leave the cafe, his face red. all the while, you remain blissfully unaware, concern swimming in your orbs as you cradle the cat closer to your chest.
"do you think we can adopt?" he sees the confusion on your face, chuckling at the little tilt of your head. he nods to the cat. "oscar's pretty cute. i like him."
he chuckles when you squeal, smiling happily as you place oscar down to pepper kisses on his face.
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