#far from the swan-road | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iznsfw · 10 months

Text

Like a Feather From a Swan’s Broken Wing

LE SSERAFIM's Nakamura Kazuha x Male Reader Smut

7,468 words

Categories | agent!You, ballerina!Kazuha, cunnilingus, daddy kink, spanking, fingering, slight bondage

Masterlist | Mobile Masterlist | Commission me!

This is a commission in which I was given the task to write literally anything I wanted (thank you!)

“The art of pleasing is the art of deception.”

— Luc de Clapiers

The gun’s in a steady direction, only looking forward. It’s aimed at the dark, at wherever the partners of the man you’ve been hunting for months might hide. On the darker side, you wish that if there would be anyone coming out, it would be the man himself so you'd be able to shoot him. He's the source of more headaches than you could count and the one who keeps you up late at night, and never for a good reason.

It's the selfish part of you speaking. You shouldn't let that interfere with the operation.

You're in uniform, wrapped head to toe in camouflage green. It feels heavy on your skin, but that doesn't stop your determination. You'll carry the weight of your uniform before you carry the burden that is him, who prolongs the operation, leaves your coffee powder short, and keeps the nation in distress.

Today, you'll catch him, once and for all.

Look around briefly. The night covers you completely, and hopefully doesn't cover the enemy, too. You only take a flashed look; quickness is a skill you once were unlearned in but developed later into the senior years of your profession.

Physical strength is another—the door meets the ground with a harsh thud after you kick it down. Training isn't easy by any means, but it's worth it. Hopefully this mission is the same as well.

Teamwork is a skill you learned, too, for like a flock of crows, you and the squad enter the warehouse. Altogether, they're shouting. They call for the victim (add an "s" for plural form, if necessary), telling her she's okay. Everything's going to be alright, they say, no need to worry.

However, they promise a much bloodier end for the kidnapper, who's probably lurking in the shadows.

"Come out now!" Yunjin shouts. She's frightening when she's angry; her brows are downturned and her fierce eyes are locked onto any movement. Hands on her gun, she's always prepared. "We're not going to ask again!"

"Scan the whole place," Sakura, your leader and chief, commands the rest of your team. The hate for the man glistens in her eyes; for her fierce predator looks, the team often dubs her as the cat of your group. "Don't leave one stone unturned."

The cramped warehouse is emptied out by the sounds of boots on the stairs. You take over the mission half and half: you, Sakura, and Yunjin on the first floor and Chaewon, Wonyoung, and Minju on the second.

Your half of the team knocks over the boxes. They spill out packing peanuts and hints of drugs packed in Ziploc bags. Doors fly open and welcome you into empty darkness. Above you, you hear the newer ones in the squad yelling. It's an amateur habit, but maybe it would work. Maybe it would finally draw the criminals out to justice, and all of this would be over.

But, of course, when they run down the stairs with faces devoid of any recognition and your face mirroring theirs with disappointment, it's clear that this whole thing is far from its end.

In fact, you're only at the beginning of a long, uncertain road.

Thread twisted around pins lead to everywhere but the answer. You've been staring at the billboard for too long, trying to piece together the olden newspaper scraps and sticky notes, but there's nothing. Any signs of an answer bring you to nothing. Each path, strung by thread and yarn of colors signifying this and that, draws to a dead end.

If you don't work harder with your team, Bae Suzy would be dead, too.

So why haven't you caught the abductor yet?

You and your team sit at the rounded table. They look solemn, and perhaps a little irritated. You can't blame them—the mission you thought would be the last became another one to the list of failed rescue operations.

They're getting tired of this, and if it were any other case, they'd let go of it. But this is Bae Suzy you're talking about—she's famous, reputable, and intelligent. She's an accomplished actress, a loveable idol, and an excellent model. All of these make her the treasure of many high-class individuals who’d pay billions and fans who'd give their lives to have her back, so you have to go through. Whether you like it or not, that’s how the story goes.

Your boss, chief Miyawaki Sakura, crosses her arms sternly. High curved nose, straight-set lips, and eyes that never failed to scour through the team, she nods at you. It doesn't take a sign language translator to get what she means: start talking.

"The mission was aborted due to fallacies in translation and sources," you say. You're using your classic, signature neutral tone for meetings like this one. There's an edge to it today, though. No one dares to tell you about it. "One of our sources translated the location and transferred the information to us incorrectly, hence bringing us to another failed operation."

Your teammates nod. Sakura sighs, pinching her nose.

"Due to this," you continue, slapping down on the table a picture of Bae Suzy, in which she smiles charmingly and waves to a mass of reporters, "we must conduct further readings into the case to ensure that the information is accurate. For Bae Suzy, and for us."

Another series of nods from across the room. Most of them are half hearted.

"So, do any of you have a proposal as to where the kidnapper is now? And where he might have brought miss Bae?"

The quiet Kim Chaewon raises her hand. She used to be the one who brought and made the coffee, but after she helped you solve a cold case during her night shifts, you brought it upon yourself to let her join the team. She listened to the seminars well and was excellent in the training. She had potential, is what you're saying, so you're more than glad to hear from her side.

"I believe the kidnapper is a dancer. Maybe he’s brought her to a studio."

"That isn't relevant," says Sakura, venom in her voice. It’s wholly unintended for her to lash out at the new member of the squad, but her exhaustion is getting the better of her today.

Chaewon blushes. "I believe it is, chief," she retorts timidly. "He left ballet shoes and leotards in the last operation. It might lead us to his location, especially if he's the sentimental type."

"And you say that after we ransacked an old man's warehouse? After he thought we were little shits playing soldiers and looking for some coke?"

“B-but the operation was your idea!”

"I launch all operations, honey," Sakura informs her, smiling with fake sweetness. "What do you do?"

"Sakura," you warn. Your words are tight. You don't have it in your soul to deal with her feistiness today. Any other day you would have let the bickering go on, but the failed mission has downed your spirits.

Silence passes around the table. Wonyoung's looking around, waiting for someone to speak. Sakura's staring daggers into the flushed Chaewon. Minju and Yunjin are as quiet as they can be.

Let the silence ferment with acknowledgement: "Thank you, Chaewon, for your input. Any other ideas?"

"I believe Chaewon is right,” Minju pipes up. “We received a letter from the suspect after the operation.”

You smile, both at the good news and the fact that Minju is, so far, the prettiest out of the squad, and doesn't have only a pretty face but the good wits to back it up, too. That's part of the reason why you love welcoming her point of view, but a letter sounds interesting. Probably even more interesting than getting close with Minju, a thought you entertained more than you should.

“Were there fingerprints?” you ask.

She hands you the letter, which is wrapped in an envelope with newspaper and magazine letters carefully pasted on its front. “No. He probably used gloves.”

You carefully rip the hood of the envelope upwards and pull out the folded paper. You then read it out loud:

"To the police, agents, and detective teams—

"You won't ever find me. I float through the crowds unseen. I glide through the lake of circumstance like a swan. I bring her along, and though she's a kitten scared of water, she's mine now. Forever.

"It would take years before you're even able to save your precious little Suzy. It might not even happen at all.

"For that reason, although I abhor you more than you'd think for you all are built on a system of lies and corruption, I offer you this clue:

"I have flown to other nations where my flock calls for me in our garden. Will you be able to shoot me down?

"Soar with me,

"The One Who Dances, A Flame Eternal."

It must have taken hours to cut out all those magazine letters. That's one thing you'll commend the abductor for.

"'The One Who Dances,'" says Wonyoung in awe. She realizes that Chaewon was right about him being a dancer. For someone as young and new to this side of the profession, it’s like watching a thing straight out of a thriller movie.

"'The One Who Dances,'" Sakura repeats, but in a more sarcastic tone than the interested girl. She scoffs. There's a smile on her face that’s amused despite the situation. "Boo, what a fucking nerd. Did he take up human sciences or something?"

"That's not relevant," you tell her, avenging Chaewon (and defending yourself, too, because you also studied human sciences. That's not fair. You aren't a nerd.)

"I’m telling you, those essays they make those kids do rot their brains. Oh, and shut the fuck up. This is why you aren't a team leader."

Choose to ignore her. "I… I just don't get it," you say hopelessly.

Your hair is thin between your fingers as you crawl your digits into it. They're tense, just like you are. You've been tight and stressed through the whole investigation process, in fact, because you've rolled through every possible location: a school, a secret hideout, an old building. None of them are occupied by the criminals. None of them have Bae Suzy.

"We're getting there," replies Yunjin softly. She pats your shoulder and looks at your billboard of pictures and clues, too. "We already know Suzy's being held captive. We just don't know where."

She's lying. That's what friends are for: to lie to make you feel better in situations where it's impossible to be. In that case, Yunjin’s an excellent friend because you're getting abso-fucking-lutely nowhere. It's been one failed rescue mission after another, and it doesn't seem like the next one would be successful either.

"That's the problem, Yunjin." Twirling the black ocean of coffee with a teaspoon, you point to a newspaper clipping thumbtacked to the west side of the board. "Last time, they said the kidnapper took her to the USA because she was seen at the airport."

You rise from your swivel chair to tug out a printed screenshot of the CCTV at said place, and raise it for everyone to see. It shows the timestamps and Bae Suzy looking scared as she stares into the crowds.

"But then she went back to Dutchland," Sakura adds.

“Correct.” Take another grayscale photo where Bae Suzy waits unwillingly at the airport, and tap on the sign at the very front of the line she's in that says the name of the country. "The sources are just as confused as we are."

Yunjin's furrowed brow quirks. She picks up the folder and goes through it. The papers reflect in her black-rimmed glasses. "Why would she be in Dutchland?"

"Because," jab a thumb into the picture of Suzy again, "Dutchland means something to the kidnapper. He wouldn't have gone with Suzy there for nothing. It risks everything."

Dutchland is the main setting of the case, actually. Everything begins and ends there. Everything you know about the kidnapper lies in the note he addressed to the police, issued by Minju earlier.

Wait—

Pull out the kidnapper's letter again. It's impossible to mistake it for anything else even through the mess on the table when it's smoother than the other scratch papers. The identifying marks are your fingerprints from pen ink branded onto the thin piece of parchment.

Open it, rolling it out on the table like a mantle. It's a mantle of clues you run your finger on. Flown to other nations… soar with me… our garden… The One Who Dances…

Your breath catches in your throat. "Chaewon," you say, looking up at her, “you’re a fucking genius.”

One Leaf Academy is a rich, well-established school for aspiring ballerinas and professional dancers alike. There can't be any other the abductor was referring to. There's only one particularly famous ballet academy in Dutchland, and since he's mentioned that he was the one who danced, this was it. The "garden" mentioned in the letter helped map it down to one location.

It looks good even from bird's eye view. You can see it properly without the pane of a window standing in the way. When you’re part of the squad, flights aren’t taken on planes. Instead, you use helicopters, government-owned and government-approved.

It took only two days for Dutchland to issue an agreement to let you through the borders. They love Bae Suzy, too, apparently. They love her so much that the process went by quickly and you weren’t even stressed about it. There’s more things to stress about later on, but there’s no use in lamenting the future when the present is already good as is.

The green helicopter lands in the forest behind the school. It camouflages among the leaves and trees, giving you the freedom to hop out of it as noisily as you’d like.

Twigs and branches snap under your feet as you do, and you have to catch Sakura to stifle her trip.

She slaps your hands away and brushes down her dress, as if your touch ruined it. "Keep your fucking hands to yourself."

"You're welcome, Sakura," you say, shrugging.

"Can you two please stop fighting?" Wonyoung asks. Her delicate voice, irresistible even to the hardhearted Sakura, ceases the argument before it could continue.

Pull the ridiculous blazer they made you wear on and look at the team. "Everyone ready? You know your jobs?" you ask.

"I'm the mother," says Sakura spitefully. She glares down at the gradient dress assigned to her. "I'll pretend to take pictures and talk to you through the phone."

"Who's the baby daddy?"

"For once, I beg, shut the fuck—"

"Guys," Wonyoung repeats with a more pleading voice.

Sigh. The fight was on you and it's up to you to end it as well. So, turn to: "Wonyoung?"

"I stay behind and watch out for suspicious people," she replies, back to her usual bright but professional self. You hope she doesn't lose the shimmer in her eyes years down the road of being on the investigative team. You'd hate for her to go through what you had to deal with.

"Yunjin?"

"First round of backup with Chaewon unnie." Yunjin taps the gun hidden in the loop of her jeans.

"Minju?"

The girl blushes. "Look for Bae Suzy," she says in a small voice. She looks pointedly at you. "And you?"

"Find the abductor." Look down at your shoes and wonder if they'd ever experience a trip that isn't about work. "Put an end to everything."

Everything's been fleshed out already. There are backup plans of backup plans, earpieces hidden on the sides of your head when the need to communicate comes. This is how it usually is with undercover work.

You ponder, for a moment, and think if it would forever be like this: a game of cat and mouse, always led on but never going through. It just fuels your passion to find Bae Suzy once and for all.

"Remember, this is a recital," Sakura informs all of you. She points to the backdoors of the ballet academy, which suppresses classical music from the inside. "We have to fit in. Don't drop your cover."

She looks at you and narrows her eyes. “Even if somebody tempts you.”

"Operation One Leaf, launched immediately."

You enter the recital with the subtle earpiece strapped to your lobe and your steps light. You carry your posture well, and with the suit, draw looks from the other parents and from children, too. They're wondering if you're the owner of the place, or maybe you're a well-dressed teacher? A wealthy father? They'll never know because you won't dare tell them.

Regard them with a cold yet polite nod and walk through the sides of the chairs. There's not much of the audience left, but you still have to play your part.

You lock eyes with Minju, who steps into the recital wearing preppy yet casual wear. Mouth her good luck. She smiles, but proceeds into the backrooms without another word. Right. She plays a part in the mission, too. You shouldn't disturb her.

"You're here, agent," she says anyway, tapping onto her own earpiece. Her voice rings in your ear. "Break a leg."

Sakura gets in a little while later. As per her job, she pulls out the communication device disguised as a phone and lifts it to the air, "recording" the dancer on the stage.

Blend in with the crowd as you will. You're a little embarrassed by the attention you draw with your suit since the whole thing is supposed to be undercover, but there's no going back now. You have to act the part.

So: stride confidently into the room, never looking down. Take the first seat you see at the very front and look at the performance.

That's kind of how it all started: a look. It wasn't supposed to be anything else, but yes, one single look keeps you hypnotized, not just because of the dance, but the girl who performs it.

She might as well be a swan in disguise. She's got this resilient, princess-like look on her face that's more alluring than it should be. Even her hair serves her royalty; it elegantly floats around her neck and shoulders as she prances and twists.

The uniform, a long-sleeved blouse finished off with a flattering tie and a flowing skirt, doesn't hide her gracefulness. She moves in it as if she were the swan lake herself. Her movements are as fluid as can be. Each rush and lift of her leg guarantees an upskirted moment in which you're allowed to bask in the beauty of her legs and the fullness of her butt, and you know you shouldn't look. You're better than that; you shouldn't let a young, pretty girl stall your job, but there you are, front seat at a recital for professional senior high ballerinas, hypnotized by a ballerina's dance.

You have to snap out of it. You have better and more important things to do than mentally undress a pretty dancer, yet your eyes are glued on her. It's like your vision was programmed to catch every twirl and glide she makes across the platform, to relish the poke of her chest through the blouse that's a little too small, to yearn for her.

The music is just a dreamful background to her. You're dazed. Hypnotized. Locked into a passive position because of her.

You want this ballerina. You can't do anything but look and want and long.

It's almost heartbreaking when her performance ends. She bows deeply, and you swear she's fired you a wink right before she rises up again.

You have to get to know her. You want to ask her out, maybe even escalate things further on the first date if she’s willing. But you have a mission to do. The squad and saving Bae Suzy come first.

Regretfully, you stand from the monobloc chair and turn your heel. But then there she is, dressed in perfection and uniform, and looking prettier up close when she shouldn't be that close but she is close and you swear one more centimeter closer and you'd be closed up to her lips.

"Hi," she says, casually.

That deep voice, fuck.

Wait, when did she get here?

"I, uh, hi? Wait, how did you… why are you—"

"Please." She rolls her eyes, sets a hand on her tiny pinch of a waist. "Did you think you weren't obvious staring me down?"

"Well, uh—"

(What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you stuttering and stammering and stumbling over your words like you aren't more mature and older than her? How could she say that to you and disregard that fact?

You couldn't be assed to know, but she's intimidating you in a whole different way: making you feel like the platform she dances on by acting sweet but not too sweet, flirty but not over the top. That's what you know, but here's the problem: you have little idea what to do.)

"Calm down," she says. She's a tall girl, but smaller enough to smooth down your blazer and close it softly around your chest. Her eyes are enticing. "I'm just playing with you."

Swallow. Try to collect your composure back into a neat pile, but it overflows and ceases. "Excuse me," you say, voice shaking, "do I know you?"

She pushes out her pink bottom lip, bites it, then shakes her head. "It's Kazuha, if that rings a bell."

"If I didn't know your name, Kazuha," you say, "I'd say I recognize you from somewhere."

"You do?"

"Yeah." The more you talk, the more she looks like Bae Suzy. "You, y-you kind of look like someone I'm looking for."

Kazuha guides you with a hand around your wrist and walks you to the backroom. You have no sense of direction when your eyes are sealed onto her gorgeous face, perfect with their brown eyes and sculpted nose. It's a tour guide to danger, and you don't even know that you're hiking.

"Is she your wife?" She rubs the back of your hand with a thumb, looking at you with such authentic concern that you almost fall for it. Almost. "Girlfriend?"

"No." Breathe through your nose. "Just someone I have to look for."

Slam. The door shuts, and now you're effectively pinned upon its wood like a poster. Amazing how a woman smaller than you could do you like that: have you weak at your knees as she keeps you on the flat of the door, stares you down with no hatred in her eyes, but sultriness. You don't know how you pick up all those clues when she's not speaking, but Kazuha, as you come to find out, isn't like any other girl. She's known her whole life to speak through her body, and the message from her hands pushing you into a flattened position and her leg propped next to your hip is clear.

You’re not sure if you want to open her note and read it.

"Tell me," Kazuha says, chastely, although her actions are anything but, "am I as hot as her?"

Your eyes widen. It's utterly unprofessional; you as an agent shouldn't even begin to engage in a conversation about how the victim's sexually attractive when she might be in the most vulnerable place right now.

Stutter again. Broken words become a new language you're fluent in, and might as well be a native speaker of with how much Kazuha learned you into it. You have her slim, hot body pressed up against yours to thank, and the look in her eyes. The tilt of her pretty little head. Her subtle, knowing smirk.

"I can't talk about that with you," you say, because it's true—you can't. You have a mission to do and your morals to keep.

"Sure you can," Kazuha counters. Her eyes glimmer. "I'm the top student in One Leaf. They basically made me a star when they knew that my name meant 'one leaf,' too. Isn't that funny?"

"What's your point here?"

"The point is," she says, leveling your gaze, "if I fuck you right here in this room, they wouldn't give a damn."

She has a hold of your hands, imprisoning them and trapping them on the slopes of her sizable chest. Your breath hooks on nothing and is released incompletely. Kazuha's breasts are so soft, not the biggest but fill your hands up so well that you'd take them over any other pair.

Have to resist the voice inside you telling you to squeeze. "What are you doing?" you ask.

"Tell me, what do men like you want?"

Kazuha curls your hand into her flesh so that she's making you squeeze—

"Tits—"

—then leads it below her pleated skirt, lets it cup the globes and touch places that should otherwise be left untouched—

"—or ass?"

Both are tastes of heaven. The two choices are soft yet alluring. But you really shouldn't, though you want to rip that skirt clean off her legs and spank her till her cheeks are red. She deserves that for tempting you, for being such a bad girl when she's otherwise excellent at being a ballerina.

"I can't talk to you about that," you have to repeat. But it sounds more like you're convincing yourself rather than her.

Oh, and she's far from being budged.

Kazuha pulls you by the tie and drags you to the nearest monobloc chair. There are plenty of other seats just like that here in the utility room, but she chooses to throw a beautiful, toned leg over each side of your hips and sit on your lap instead. Her ass snuggles your crotch and her legs keep you trapped onto the chair.

"What about now?" she asks.

Then her hips start to sway—it's another coax for you to drag out of your shell and do what you shouldn't. It's another dance besides ballet that she knows well, and you can tell from how her thighs flex and bounce underneath your touch, she's very good at it.

"K-Kazuha… fuck—"

"Come on." She's straight up dry humping you, dragging her perfect pussy up and down your growing erection. Her eyes and mouth both pose a challenge: "Tell me I should stop. Tell me you want to do anything that isn't to fuck me."

Kazuha rubs herself on you. She uses your clothed cock as a personal toy for a few delicious seconds, then rises from your lap to unbutton her blouse. One by one, they undo themselves and the pale skin of her chest is revealed. There's her small cleavage. A collarbone carved from perfection. Her beautiful chest. Too much is what it is, yet your perverted self can't stop gawking.

You remember Sakura's words earlier. She told you not to drop your cover, not to get tempted. You dislike Sakura, yet it's her warning that ignites your hesitation. She suspected that you'd fall like this. She was only trying to hold you back.

"Well? What's gonna happen then?" Kazuha crosses her arms. They frame the underside of her tits, a perfect picture. "Do you want to go out there and find some stupid girl or fuck the one on your lap? What's it gonna be, daddy?"

You're not a daddy kink type of person. In fact, you don't really have that much of a sex drive. Intercourse and the like are things you have no time for when your job is like this, much less a discovery of a daddy kink.

So why is your dick so much harder now that she's said it?

Why are your hands on her hips?

Why are you carrying Kazuha's lithe form and placing her right on a desk?

Why are you kissing her?

When your lips and hers meet, an apocalypse is birthed. An apocalypse of sex, hunger, and desire breaks out. Your eyes are closed, yet your hands and Kazuha's own know exactly where to touch and hold. She unbuckles your belt and pulls down your pants. You slide your greedy fingers over Kazuha's perfect buttcheeks. Tug off the ridiculous shorts that saved her performance from being pornographic. Rip off the panties that are sticky with need.

"Oh, ohhh, you like that?" Kazuha moans while you kiss her neck and chest. Don't bother to rip off the uniform when it looks incredibly sexy on her fit body. "You like me calling you that, daddy?"

"Quiet. We're making this quick."

"So you do want to fuck me."

Thighs touch your lips when you make your way down. Or is it the other way around? Whatever, the point is that Kazuha's thighs are a delicacy. They're full yet sculpted and would look great looped around your head. Luckily, you find that the sopped core between them is more delicious.

Lick a line from the bottom of her slit right up to her bundle of nerves. "Who says I want to fuck you?"

"D-daddy!" Kazuha gasps, covering her mouth.

"You're quick to call me that." You kiss the insides of thighs then start trailing your tongue around her clit. On top of it. Under it. Each side is subject to immense pleasure. "Where's the shame, little dancer?"

"Right on with the nicknames."

You splay Kazuha's pink lips and stick your tongue in between them. Her hips buckle forward. Her eyes are all wide and eager and needy, and it takes a few more thrusts of your tongue to have them shut.

However, it doesn't take a lot for Kazuha to moan. Her voice is tinged with deep tones, and they pronounce out prolonged cries as you toy her cunt with your tongue. Her thighs threaten to crush your head, but, if anything, you'd welcome it. You're happy to be trapped in between her luscious legs and keep the feminine scent of her pussy right up close. Her juices could be your water, the food would be her core itself—you're already eating it like a meal anyway.

"Of course. If you want to play games, I'll give in." Toy with her clit, then proceed to give it harsh sucks and slurps that her lower body spasms. "I'm just playing along."

Kazuha bites on a bated breath and beats the table with a bent hand. "What if I'm not playing around, daddy?"

"Hm?"

"What if, fuck, I'm not playing around?" She pushes you deeper between her legs and wraps them around your head. She toys with the sides of your ears. "Maybe I like fucking people who obviously shouldn't be doing it. Maybe I like calling a hot man daddy. It just feels so good for me. Did you ever think about that?"

And maybe you like fucking a girl who's a hindrance to your mission. Maybe you like eating out her wet cunt, driving your tongue deeper into the soaked fuckhole, and doing everything you wanted to do to her when she was onstage.

But all of that is just one maybe after another. As far as you're concerned, you don't actually like doing it, yet when Kazuha whines and squirms like that, your mind is quickly changed.

Self-discovery, you guess.

"So do it," you challenge her. Look up at her while you quickly rub her clit. "Call me daddy."

"Daddy, hngnnn, fuck, daddy!"

Kazuha's pussy creates the most obscene wet sounds. Your index finger doesn't rest; it fires away at her clit, her most sensitive spot, and urges it to become more swollen. More sensitive. More desperate.

Push her other leg up for more access. As you expected, it effortlessly rises. Who knew that her years of dancing as a professional ballerina would translate well when eating her pussy? You love how her thigh quivers and tries to stay upward while you eat her out. That's one thing ballet didn't teach her: to stay stabilized when there's a tongue and finger assaulting her center.

"Are you usually this wet, Kazuha? After you dance out there with your legs and thighs out for everyone to see?"

"No, no, I'm not wet! You're, hnnn, daddy," her eyes lose focus and she rolls her head back, mouth gaped, "oh, fuck, daddy, I'm gonna cum!"

Start to jack yourself off to the unholy, R-18 scene of Kazuha approaching orgasm. Is it a known thing that ballerinas are the most beautiful when they cum? If not, it should be, for Kazuha's blissful face—eyes shut, mouth wide with moans—and her shaking legs enchant you. They draw you into her and have you rubbing and tapping at her core to coax out more euphoric reactions from her.

Slip your fingers inside her. Be greeted with a fountain of liquid and scent. Appreciate how tight she is when it's only your fingers in her.

"God, daddy, not there!" Kazuha screams. Have to dodge a few times for her kicking and flailing legs to miss your face. "I'm so sensitive there, oh no, you can't—oh, fuck—daddy!"

Her deep voice thrills your erection, and you could have cum on the spot with her if you were more focused on rubbing her orgasm out. A bit of squirt stains your fingers, but you end up getting more stains of girl cum on yourself as you go on fingering and rubbing.

Kazuha rubs her own nipples as she settles down from her high. "That, that was—daddy—"

You hush her. There's no time to talk. You unravel Kazuha's tie and wrap the little gray thing around her wrists. You knot them tightly after you wring her arms behind her back. She watches on with confusion, wondering why you're suddenly being so horny.

If she asked, you'd explain that it's because of her. Who else could be the culprit when she's there with her incredible thighs and perfect, fuckable body? When she's the feistiest little thing who just turns out to crumble if the right guy crosses her? Everything about Kazuha seems to be designed and fabricated to tempt you, and look at you giving in.

"You're tying me up, daddy?" she asks, tone varying between disappointment and excitement.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

She's so cute, really—she closes up to you with the biggest eyes of hurt and want, with her slim lips curved downwards into a pout. "You have to fuck me," she says, like it's a promise you made that she's been waiting on to be granted for a while. "It's not fair. You can't even fuck well, daddy, and you're tying me up? You must be joking."

Scoff. "I wasn't so bad at fucking when I ate your pussy."

"I was just moaning to make you happy." Kazuha leans forward, presenting her exposed cleavage and face that looks otherwise innocent besides the smirk. "I love making big handsome daddies like you happy."

Her words and cutesy tone send chills down your spine. She's so attractive that it's becoming scary, even when she's bound by the hands.

"Don't you feel bad, daddy?" she asks with a timely lull of her head to the side. "You're giving your whole career away to fuck me. You're supposed to be doing something else, aren't you? Something other than fucking me? So why are you here?"

Her words hit too close to home. "You don't know anything about me, Kazuha."

"Sure I do."

"Turn around."

"Make me. Holy shit, daddy, you have such a big cock, but you're so pathetic. You didn't expect to fuck a girl tonight, did you? But you saw me and thought about it. And now that I've figured you out, you got mad. Why's it the fault of a good little girl like me that you're doing the wrong thing? Maybe it's because you know you're such a bad person, a bad guy—"

You grab her and push her stomach down on the table. Your rod slips inside the ballerina, and she breaks.

And it's everything you've ever wanted: she's hot and tight and wet around you. Her bouncy ass lives up to its description as you pump at a rapid fire pace inside her. Her pussy's so tight that it feels like it's pinching you to keep you inside, and you do exactly that. You'd never want to be anywhere else.

But you still make sure to pull out to let your length breathe, then submerge them into the tightness of her vagina again. Her lips cling to your dick. They don't want you to be anywhere else either.

“Say you’re sorry.”

"S-sorry, daddy!" she's quick to say. A broken mirror lies across the table, and from there you can see the expressions of winces and moans on her beautiful face.

"Fucking mean it."

"Kazu… ha, Kazuha… Kazuha's sorry, daddy!"

There's a certain power you impel on this thrust specifically, and it sends her legs buckling. Place a hand on her bound wrists to keep her in place just like she did when she had you trapped to the door.

Frankly, you did it for the chance to slap her cheeks. Spank one and it jiggles beautifully. Spank the other and her hole tightens. Make it a point of yours to spank there particularly, all while keeping the unyielding quality of her hole. It's how you keep the brat that is Kazuha on a leash.

"Daddy, daddy, fuck!" she screams. "You're so, so good, please keep fucking me!"

"Contradicting yourself." Pull out, much to her disappointment, and slide your cock up and down in the plateau of her asscheeks. The flesh of her ass hugs you.

"Why'd you pull out, daddy?" Kazuha asks. She looks back at you and pleads with the shimmer in her eyes.

"I wanted to see if this ass is as soft as it looks."

For a few blissful moments you fuck Kazuha's ass cheeks, but never really entering her puckered pink hole. It causes her to whine and pout. It's impossible to not give in to such a pretty face, so you continue for a few seconds, letting the pleasure entice your cock to a full solidness, then pause.

"Are you a good girl, Kazuha?" Rub her pussy then bring your slick digits to her mouth.

Kazuha licks them clean and nods repeatedly. If you weren't so focused on riling her up, you'd go back to the moment your squad nodded their heads as you went over the mission plan. "Yesss, daddy."

"So much you'd let me fuck this perfect pussy till I'm spent?"

"Yes!"

Twist Kazuha around and prop her on the desk. Then, you tear her blouse. Buttons soar in the air to make way for her full, ab-ridden midriff to be exposed. Her tiny slutty waist has your mouth agape. Her small breasts peek through her black lace bra.

"And let me cum all over this midriff?" you ask, staking the deal higher.

"Oh, what's that?" Kazuha smirks. "Is little old daddy scared to breed me?"

Her character when she's not being fucked confuses you just as much as it arouses you. She looks way better when she's being a submissive little dancer, though.

"Bad girls don't get to be bred."

Push inside her. Yes, you're doing this again. Kazuha's abs flex, and the breaths she takes and releases become more strained.

As you pound her, she looks at you with this face that's lost any elegance from dancing. It's looking like she's slightly sleepy with pleasure, like she wanted to lay there while she let you have your way with her. And you'd be glad to—her ripped uniform and pretty legs would spur you on in no time.

You grab her ass and start dragging her to yourself, too, to fill her deeper. It works; your tip makes it to her womb and right then and there you're tempted to be hypocritical and breed her anyway. You'd love to imagine how her face basked in pleasure would look when you fill her with your load. You'd love to see her pull the weight of being bred well and dance out there with no care that your semen's rolling down her soft legs.

But she doesn't deserve it.

"Pleaaaase, I'll be so good!" she says. Her hands end up on your shoulders and she's kissing you everywhere. "I'll be a good girl, daddy, just fffucking fill me up. I'll never… I'll be…. oh!"

You're going too fast. Your sudden burst of energy leaves her on the edge. On the wall, to be more precise, because you're ruining and rearranging her insides so well that she's knocked onto the walls again and again.

"Daddy…"

Kazuha winces. Moans. C-cries? She doesn't know what to do. Her legs feel hot and she feels like she's going to burst anytime soon. Your cock's impaling her in all the right ways, grazing her cervix and G-spot but also parting her walls just so that the pain transforms into pleasure. "Gonna cum now, daddy, please let me—oh, please—"

The last word comes out wrung in between pitches. Kazuha shudders and squeals. The pleasure's overwhelming her so much that she's let go of her strength. Her legs feel too weak. Her throat, although you haven't fucked it, is sore. Then you're painting her abs, white fluid against and above and over white skin, and she immediately fingers some of your release and pushes a digit inside herself. She's a resourceful girl besides being an excellent ballerina. Good to know.

"You really didn't breed me, daddy?" she asks sadly.

You regret not doing so seeing the hopeless look on her face. "Sorry, but I've got to—"

Your eyes size up to planets.

—"go."

It's only at the finish of your sentence that you realize that you're right. You do have to go. Why are you here when you have a mission to find the abductor?

"Shit, shit, shit!" Pull your pants up and fix your blazer. It's cool inside the utility room, but your blood's run cold. "I have to go, Kazuha. I—"

Kazuha rolls her eyes. "Fix your earpiece first, daddy. You're a mess."

You blindly follow her words before you even suspect why she knew about the earpiece, or why it's off. After you tap on it, you hear the following, haunting words:

"Mission aborted. Mission aborted. We've been betrayed."

"No, no, no." You shake your head over and over. You can’t believe that was happening and you missed out on assisting your teammates out. Speak through the piece in a shaken voice, "What's going on? Yunjin? Yunjin, what's going on?"

"What the fuck?" she says, obviously infuriated. "I've been trying to reach you, agent! Where the hell are you?"

Look around. "Uh… I met a girl. We're in the back."

"Fuck. What's her name?"

"Kazuha."

Yunjin's voice reaches an alarm you've never heard from her. "Get the fuck out of there, agent! Get away from her, kill her, I don't give a fuck, just run!"

"B-but why?"

"The kidnapper's not a 'him,' she's a 'she'! It's a trap!"

As Yunjin's voice echoes from your earpiece in the small room, Kazuha's creepy smile grows.

"Yunjin," flash a look at the ballerina, who’s still smiling, then at the ceiling, "I don't understand."

"Get your fucking head in the game. 'The One Who Dances', agent. 'One Leaf'! The answer was right in our face, it's her!" Yunjin's practically shouting now. It deafens you, but you hear every word loud and clear. "She impersonated Bae Suzy at the airport, agent. The ‘cat’ in the letter wasn’t about Suzy, it’s about Sakura! She betrayed us!”

You look at Kazuha, and suddenly her smile isn’t as alluring as it was when you were fucking her. It speaks of an impending doom. It tells you that you should really run, but there wouldn’t be much change if you did because she’d still catch you. You’d still end up dead.

Suddenly, all the pieces to the story that played behind the scenes fall into place. They connect too well for it to be false. You never questioned once why Sakura led you in each of the operations, and now it’s clear why she did: she was holding you back from saving Suzy. There was a reason why she was team leader. How did you not catch it?

And Kazuha… she didn’t come up to you just because she wanted to, did she? She had a partner and a purpose. You were searching for the culprit ever since you stepped foot into the academy. It didn’t hit you once that you might be fucking her.

Kazuha takes a few steps towards you and lays her forehead into your chest. “You’re not mad, are you, daddy?”

How did her tie suddenly disappear from her wrists?

#kpop smut #female idol smut #idol smut #girl group smut #genshin smut #lesserafim smut #le sserafim smut #nakamura kazuha smut #kazuha smut #lesserafim kazuha smut #le sserafim kazuha smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #male reader #reader insert #x reader #pov smut #kofimission #commission

673 notes · View notes

spirit-lanterns · 3 months

Note

To think an emotionless face bunny reader. That WOULD never be me 😔 as much i have to admit, i’m those people who have their face full of emotions so these kind of gambling when our emotions get the best of us, I would’ve FOLDED instantly.

Of course i like a game of gambling (of sex) so internally, i accept it thinking i would be slick and won it but noo..

If we started we took kafka? A rough start. Cock warming her would be a squirming road. Like i can try to put up a poker face but my body says it all. You know what they say when body gives out the languages 😔lazily yet suddenly bucking her hips as her cock felt so good in our gummy wall instantly make our breath heavier. Like she would be smirking even if she start to mark our neck as we gripped the gambling table to ground ourselves

If not more rough journey, black swan. The most kinkiest woman is an understatement to say the least. She would eventually grab the vibratior and put it up against our clothed cunt as the bunny suit is very shiny and even smooth much to our unfortunate luck (or fortunate luck)

Someone finish this fic I can’t think more than black swan and kafka fucking my brain

I’d gladly finish this fic for you, anon 💕

Imagine Topaz trying to get you to make a noise or change expressions by bending you over her lap and spanking you. She does it in front of all the other women too, trying to get you to whimper or yelp with her hand striking against your ass, but you’re determined to hold out and keep your face calm. No matter how painful (and pleasurable) Topaz’s hand may feel on your rear.

After Topaz, Acheron would attempt to get you to moan, by fondling with your tits and roughly fingering your pussy with her long, calloused fingers. The pace she sets herself with you is rough and extremely overbearing, but even when Acheron is knuckles deep inside of you, you still keep a poker face on and refuse to let even a peep leave your lips during her round of the gamble…

Lastly, Robin would be the one to try and get you to break face, by sitting you up against the table and eating you out with her skilled tongue. The wings on her head are tickling your thighs, as she hopes to get you to whine when her tongue sinks far into your cunt to taste all that you could offer. Though it was a close bet, not even Robin could get you to break your poker face, and soon you find yourself winning against all five women in the roo—

Oh? Wait a minute! We forgot Himeko! Himeko the experienced and mature woman that she is, finally managing to crumble you to nothing as she makes you sit on her lap and take her experienced fingers up your cunt. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you somehow broke down at the feeling of Himeko’s simple fingering, as she was so skilled enough, that just the feeling of her filling you up from the inside was enough for you to let out the loudest whine any of the women had ever heard from you.

…Yeah, it’s safe to say Himeko won this gamble. She got the money it seems (and you) for the night, causing everyone to seethe with jealous stares 💕

#🕯️ghost post #casino au #hsr smut #hsr women smut

260 notes · View notes

getinthefuckingjaeger · 7 days

Text

“There’s lots you don’t know about me, Gale.” Gale can hear the smile in Bucky’s voice but he can't find the humor in it.

(Gale, John, and forks in the road)

The moonless night is dark.

It is only by the grace of the bicycle’s lights that they can see where they’re going at all. Gale focuses on his pedalling, feet going round and round, steady as a metronome. He sees Bucky in his peripherals, the light from his own bicycle intersects occasionally with the light from Gale’s - the way they cross fascinates Gale enough that he almost cycled into a little dip in the dirt road.

“Alright, Gale?”

There.

The name his mother gave him. The sound of it tumbles almost awkwardly from Bucky’s mouth and Gale’s own curls slightly in distaste even as he hums non-committedly to Bucky’s question.

“Just fine, Bucky, just fine.”

The sounds of revelry start to disappear into the ether of the night the further they cycle from base. The silvery brightness of the bicycle light is occasionally interrupted by red and green flashes from Ken’s flares despite the distance but that, too, eventually disappear the deeper they travel on the small, worn path through the forest of Thorpe Abbotts.

Wordlessly, they make a right turn into a tiny opening in the trees, off the beaten path, and right into a little alcove of trees surrounding a mist-covered lake - the group’s worst kept secret. The modest body of water has seen its fair share of shenanigans from the Bloody Hundredth. There’s no telling how many zippos and silver buttons were lost in the mud, buried and forming part of the land’s history.

The sharp light of their bicycle dims and finally dies as they get off their bikes, leaving them in the near pitch darkness. Wind blows gently through the leaves and the reeds, disturbing the mist on the lake’s surface.

“Like swan lake.” Bucky’s voice cuts through the silence. He drops his bicycle carelessly to the ground and brushes past Gale to sit right onto the damp grass. He stretches his legs as far as it would go, toes teasing the reeds cropping up at the edge of the lake. “You know - the ballet?”

Gale quirks a smile. He props his bicycle against a tree and grabs Bucky’s from the ground to do the same. “Didn’t know you liked ballets.”

“There’s lots you don’t know about me, Gale.” Gale can hear the smile in Bucky’s voice but he can't find the humor in the situation. He pushes the irrational feeling far, far down his psyche and sits cross-legged beside Bucky. Their knees knock against each other but Bucky pulls away almost at the first brush.

The loss was so sudden and foreign that it took Gale a second to register. Something ugly rears its head and it pushes Gale to chase Bucky’s retreat - he moves stubbornly closer and presses the crest of his knee into the side of Bucky’s thigh.

“Yeah? Like what?” Gale asks, casual as anything.

He pretends he doesn’t see the way Bucky squirms at their contact, pretends his heart is not cracking and he’s not sick with anxiety. Somewhere along the way, between his escape and their reunion, Gale Cleven was careless with John Egan and had let him slip between his fingers.

Bucky shrugs. He unbuttons his jacket and leans back, hands supporting his weight as he casts his eyes to look up at the night sky.

Gale does not hide the way he studies Bucky’s profile, the way he lets his eyes trace the lines and curves of his face, the way he studies the way his curls sway slightly in the cool night air. Gale tilts his body towards Bucky and wills Bucky to look at him, too.

“Tell me a secret, John.” Gale whispers into the night. His left hand inches through the grass to touch Bucky’s warm thigh. Bucky does not move away and Gale exhales in gratitude.

“I read Austen.” Bucky answers after a minute of silence.

“I know,” Gale murmurs.

His hand moves from the ground to rest on Bucky’s knee, fingers splayed casually over the crest and thumb rubbing softly against his uniform. He feels Bucky tense under his hands like he’s seconds from sprinting.

“Your favorite is Persuasion.” Gale sighs and lifts his hand, posture mirroring Bucky’s now. He tries to make out the constellation through the gaps in the leaves.

“How did you know?” Bucky’s voice is careful, guarded. “I never said anything.”

“You didn’t have to - you got a battered copy that you hide under your pillow. I tucked it back under a few times when you weren’t careful.” Gale shakes his head in amusement. “Ain’t nothing to be ashamed of, Bucky.”

Gale smiles as he recalls the first time he saw a corner of that paperback peeking from under Bucky’s pillow, years ago in Texas. He didn't know what to make of his roommate back then - the life of a party, a little too attached to his vices, a little too loud and audacious, but -

But kind and considerate, generous with his affections, an admirable leader, thinks so fast on his feet that it gives Gale whiplash on just how fast his plans adapt to the most insane situations. Heart so big it fits all of their boys with room to spare. Heart too big that it makes him vulnerable to so much hurt.

Case in point: he gave Gale his name.

“What else?” Gale cranes his neck to look at Bucky. Clouds part above them and the light of the stars spills over Bucky’s skin like silver gauze. He still won't look at Gale.

“I got a favorite quote,” he pauses, his head turned just a fraction to throw a hesitant look at Gale. Pink tongue darts to lick at dry lips and the movement distracts Gale from his eyes. “From - from the book, I mean. You wanna-”

“Of course.” Gale’s quick to answer. “Course’ I do.”

Bucky’s nervous, Gale realized. His body seems to thrum with it - almost vibrating where he sits beside Gale, but tense at same time. Like before, Gale gets the impression that Bucky is mere seconds from making a run for it, away from Gale and this time, if Gale is not fast enough, he knows that he can never catch Bucky.

Bucky’s fortifying breath reminds Gale of a man facing the gallows. He opens his mouth, and then-

“‘There could have never been two hearts so open, no tastes so similar, no feelings so in unison, no countenances so beloved’” Bucky’s voice is low, soft as a whisper despite the largeness of breath it took to form the words. Gale knows what follows, intimately. “‘Now they were as strangers; nay, worse than strangers, for they could never become acquainted. It was a perpetual estrangement.’”

It's Gale’s turn to look away from Bucky.

“That’s awfully sad,” he clears his throat, eyes blinking rapidly. “I wouldn’t have picked that one as my favorite.”

“Yeah, well, it’s mine.” Bucky’s voice is faint. “Feels relatable, I guess.”

Gales doesn't say anything in response. He feels disembodied - like his soul lost its tether to his body and now he’s split into the spirit and the man, one floating above them to observe the slow decay of him and Bucky while the other sits empty on wet grass where vines will eventually grow over the empty vessel like an abandoned cathedral.

It’s like one of Blakely’s riddles - there is a fork in the road, each one with a goblin to demand different measures of toll, but both come with an inevitable ending that Gale has to live with. The core question, Gale thinks, is whether the road he chooses will converge with the road Bucky chose - or are they destined to run in two parallel lines from this point on.

Gale licks his lips.

The wind picks up just enough to cause ripples on the lake’s surface.

Clearing his throat, Gale lets himself fall back gently on the grass, ignoring the way the back of his uniform soaks up the evening dew. He folds his arms behind his head and turns to look up at Bucky who’s watching him with something like fear and bewilderment in his eyes.

“You wanna hear mine?” He asks, gaze steady. “Was wonderin’ why you liked that book so much, so I read it when they sent you ahead in 43’.” That he read it because he missed Bucky all those weeks of separation goes unsaid. “I got a favorite quote too.”

He feels the assault of Bucky’s assessing gaze on his skin like pinpricks of thousands of needles. The suspicion and hesitancy bleeds like ink under his skin and Gale knows he will wear the tattoo of Bucky’s distrust all his life as penance.

Finally, finally, Bucky nods.

Gale watches him for a few more seconds. He wonders if this will be the last time. He closes his eyes and hopes to preserve Bucky’s image like amber in his mind, in case Bucky never looks at him ever again after this.

“‘You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever’,” He recites, slow and steady, each word enunciated with care and precision. He tries to soak them with the honey of his emotions, hoping that it will stick. “‘I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant.’”

The words ring between them.

When Gale had to bail all those months ago, there was a split second of peace in the midst of the heart stopping chaos. The moment came and was suspended between the time he scrambled out of his seat in the cockpit as the plane was going down, and the time he perched at the mouth of an open hatch, body poised to jump. For that miniscule splice of a second, everything and nothing seemed to matter to Gale. All his worries, his fears, his joys, his love, and all the minutes and seconds he spent alive, the sum of his entire existence ceased to matter and all he had was peace.

Then he jumped and the world as he knew it crashed with his fort.

This silence from Bucky feels exactly the same. Gale breathes through the borrowed peace and braces for the fall.

“You and Marge talked about the wedding yet?”

A fork in the road.

“Yeah,” Gale exhales. He tucks away the amber encapsulating his Bucky, this Bucky, deep in the recess of his mind. “Spring wedding - this coming one.”

Two parallel paths.

“That sounds really nice, Gale.” Bucky stands, his movement languid. He pats the seat of his pants to dislodge dried grass. “You still want me as your best man?”

This is the bail.

“Always, Major.” Gale watches Bucky from the ground - no longer within Gale’s reach, just like the stars behind him. “Always.”

The world as Gale knew it crashes a second time.

(that's the same lake from this drabble, by the way)

#masters of the air #mota #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #bucky egan #buck cleven #john bucky egan #gale buck cleven #jaeger writes #mota fic

79 notes · View notes

zapreportsblog · 7 months

Note

Hello again!

May i request Ben and Garrett meeting their mate when they meet Renesme? She's Bella's elder sister and their first glimpse of her is her asleep with a 6 month old baby girl asleep on her chest. So protective the two of them!! As always please and thank you!

❝threes a crowd❞

✭ pairing : Garrett x reader x Benjamin

✭ fandom : twilight

✭ summary : (y/n) is the older sister of Bella swan and when she finds out that Bella has had a child she can’t help but to pay them a visit, excited to meet her niece the two of them spend the afternoon playing and then lay down on the couch for some well deserved naps. Garrett and Benjamin are two vampires who feel as though they are missing something from their lives so why not pay their old friend a visit and hope he can help them figure it out, after all he is a doctor and the doctor knows best

✭ twilight masterlist 2

The morning sun cast a warm, golden glow over the small town of Forks, Washington, as (Y/N) drove her old, reliable truck down the familiar winding roads. It had been years since she had left this place, seeking adventure and opportunities far from the quiet life of her hometown. But today, she was coming back for a reason she never expected.

(Y/N) had always been protective of her younger sister, Bella. They shared a special bond growing up, and even though life had taken them in different directions, that bond had never wavered. Over the past few years, (Y/N) had received sporadic updates about Bella from their father, Charlie. Bella had moved back to Forks after a brief stint in Arizona, citing health reasons, but the details had always been vague.

Today was different. Charlie had called (Y/N) late last night, his voice tinged with a mixture of relief and excitement. "Bella's better now, (Y/N)," he had said, his words filled with a joy she hadn't heard in a long time. "She's overcome her sickness."

Sickness? The word had sent shivers down (Y/N)'s spine. She needed to know what had happened to her sister. And there was another piece of news that had taken her by surprise. Bella had a child, a niece. "Edward's adopted niece," Charlie had explained. "They took her in after her mother died."

The sunlit trees lining the road to Forks swayed gently as (Y/N) pulled into the familiar driveway of her childhood home. Her heart pounded with a mixture of anticipation and worry. She had so many questions, and she couldn't wait to see Bella again.

Charlie was waiting on the porch, his eyes filled with an emotion that mirrored her own. They embraced tightly, father and daughter reunited after too long apart.

"Tell me everything, Dad," (Y/N) said, her voice trembling with emotion.

Charlie led her inside and began to fill in the gaps. Bella had been battling an illness, one that had left her weak and vulnerable. But Charlie spoke of her recovery with such pride and happiness that (Y/N) couldn't help but smile through her tears. She had always known that her sister was a fighter.

"And the child, Dad? Tell me about her," (Y/N) asked, her curiosity piqued.

Charlie's face softened. "Her name is Renesmee or Nessa as we call her. She's a sweet, bright little girl who's been through so much. Bella and Edward took her in when her mother passed away. They're raising her as their own."

(Y/N) nodded, her heart swelling with admiration for her sister's kindness. She couldn't wait to meet Renesmee and be a part of their lives.

"I want to see Bella, Dad," (Y/N) said, determination in her eyes. "And I want to meet my niece."

Charlie smiled, understanding the urgency in his older daughter's voice. "She's at their place now. I'll take you there."

As they left the house and headed towards Bella's home, (Y/N) couldn't help but wonder how much had changed since she had left Forks. Little did she know that her return would mark the beginning of a new chapter in their lives, one filled with love, family, and unexpected blessings.

The Cullen house stood as impressive as ever, its grandeur hidden beneath the towering pines of the forest. (Y/N) and Charlie parked the truck and made their way to the front door. (Y/N) felt a strange mix of excitement and apprehension as they approached. She hadn't seen Bella in years, and she had never met Bella's husband, Edward, or their adopted niece, Renesmee.

Before she could even reach for the doorbell, it swung open to reveal Alice Cullen, her radiant smile lighting up the doorway. "Welcome to our home, (Y/N)!" Alice exclaimed, pulling her into a warm hug. "Everyone's been eagerly awaiting your arrival."

(Y/N) couldn't help but be surprised. "How did you know I was coming?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Alice's eyes twinkled with a secret that she couldn't reveal. "Charlie sent Bella a message earlier today, saying you'd be joining us."

Charlie nodded in agreement, but (Y/N) couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it. She pushed the thought aside and stepped inside.

The Cullen home was just as beautiful as she remembered it, filled with a sense of elegance and warmth. In the spacious living room, she spotted Bella standing beside a tall, bronze-haired man who could only be Edward. Her heart skipped a beat as she saw her sister, who had transformed into a graceful, confident woman.

"Bella!" (Y/N) called out, rushing forward to envelop her sister in a tight hug. "I've missed you so much."

Bella's eyes filled with tears as she returned the embrace. "I've missed you too, (Y/N). It's so good to see you."

As they pulled away, Edward stepped forward, a warm smile on his face. "I'm Edward," he said, extending his hand. "It's nice to finally meet you in person."

(Y/N) shook his hand, feeling an immediate sense of trust and warmth. "Likewise, Edward. Bella's told me so much about you."

Just then, from Edward's arms, (Y/N) noticed a small bundle of joy. It was a beautiful, dark-haired baby with wide, curious eyes. (Y/N) couldn't help but gasp in delight.

"This is Renesmee," Bella said, her voice filled with motherly pride. "Our daughter."

(Y/N) leaned in to get a closer look at the three-month-old baby. "She's absolutely precious," she whispered, her heart melting at the sight of the tiny miracle in Bella's arms.

Edward smiled proudly as he carefully handed Renesmee over to (Y/N). The baby blinked up at her with a hint of recognition, her small hand reaching out to touch (Y/N)'s cheek.

"I think she likes you," Bella remarked, her smile widening.

(Y/N) held the baby close, overwhelmed by a rush of emotions. She couldn't believe how much her sister's life had changed, but it was a change filled with love and happiness.

As they all gathered in the living room, (Y/N) couldn't help but feel that this reunion was a long-overdue blessing. She had her sister back, and now she had the chance to be a part of this new, loving family that Bella had found in Forks.

The morning passed in a blur of joy and laughter as (Y/N) and Renesmee played together in the cozy Cullen home. They had explored every corner of the backyard, watched cartoons that left them both giggling, and played with an assortment of baby toys that seemed to multiply with each passing hour. By the time the afternoon sun bathed the living room in a warm glow, exhaustion had caught up with them.

(Y/N) sat on the couch, cradling Renesmee in her arms as the little one's eyelids drooped with sleep. It had been a day filled with new discoveries and boundless affection, and both of them were in need of a nap.

As (Y/N) closed her eyes and felt the rhythmic rise and fall of Renesmee's breath against her chest, she couldn't help but smile. The bond she was forming with her niece was something she cherished deeply.

Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Bella had been quietly snapping pictures of the two of them, capturing the precious moments shared between her sister and her daughter. She had missed these family moments so much, and it warmed her heart to see (Y/N) and Renesmee getting along so well.

Edward gently took Bella by the hand and led her aside, away from the sleeping pair on the couch. His expression was grave as he spoke in hushed tones. "Carlisle called. Garrett and Benjamin are coming to pay us a visit."

Bella's eyes widened with surprise. "Garrett and Benjamin? Why?"

Edward sighed, knowing the situation required a careful explanation. "Carlisle didn’t say much."

Bella glanced back at her sister and the peacefully sleeping Renesmee.

Edward hesitated before responding, "They are aware that we have guest over right now. But bella, (Y/N), doesn’t know of our secret and we can't risk exposing her to our world."

Bella nodded in understanding, her heart heavy with the weight of the decision. She had always strived to protect her sister from the dangers of their supernatural life.

Edward continued, "Carlisle already warned them about (Y/N) being here like I said, they also know she’s human so he’s asked them to wear contacts to conceal their eyes.“

Bella looked back at her sister and daughter with a mixture of gratitude and concern. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe, Edward. They mean everything to me."

Edward placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We'll get through this together, Bella. For the safety of our family."

As they returned to the living room, Bella couldn't help but feel a sense of foreboding, like their visit wasn’t all that innocent.

The Cullen house was filled with a palpable tension as Garrett and Benjamin arrived, their footsteps silent against the lush carpeted floor. They were known among the vampire community as mates, bound together by a connection deeper than mere friendship. But lately, they had felt something missing from their lives, a void they couldn't ignore.

They had heard rumors of a vampire legend, one that suggested vampires could have more than one mate. It was a risky and rare phenomenon, but they believed it might hold the answer to their unease. That's why they had come to Carlisle for what could only be described as a "check-up" of sorts.

As Carlisle greeted them at the door, his golden eyes concealed behind human-like contact lenses, he welcomed them with a warm smile. "Garrett, Benjamin," he said, extending a hand to each of them. "It's good to see you both."

Garrett and Benjamin nodded in response, their gazes scanning the room. There was an air of anticipation that hung in the air, but they couldn't quite pinpoint the reason for it.

Carlisle led them further into the house. "You must be quite Bella's sister is asleep on the couch with my grandchild."

The mention of Bella's sister piqued Garrett and Benjamin's curiosity, but they remained composed as they followed Carlisle.

As they entered the living room, their eyes fell upon the sight that took their breath away. (Y/N) was asleep on the couch, her chest rising and falling with the peaceful rhythm of slumber. In her arms, she cradled Renesmee, the infant's dark curls blending with (Y/N)'s own hair.

The moment their eyes locked onto (Y/N), something extraordinary happened. Garrett and Benjamin felt a sudden surge of intense emotion, a connection so profound that it left them momentarily stunned. It was the mating bond, a rare and powerful force that bound vampires together for eternity.

Bella, who had been watching their reactions closely, recognized the look of astonishment on their faces. She couldn't contain her smile as she approached them. "Garrett, Benjamin, meet my sister, (Y/N)."

Garrett and Benjamin exchanged glances, unable to tear their eyes away from (Y/N). It was as if they had found the missing piece of their lives, the answer to the emptiness they had felt.

(Y/N) stirred on the couch, slowly waking from her nap. Her eyes fluttered open, and she met the intense gazes of Garrett and Benjamin. In that instant, the mating bond solidified, binding the three of them together in a way they couldn't fully comprehend.

Bella's heart dropped in dread as she watched the extraordinary connection unfold before her. It had been the same look Edward gave her, the same one Emmett shared with Rosalie and Alice with jasper, she knew that look all to well and she was afraid that they all knew that their lives were now forever changed.

Carlisle led Garrett and Benjamin into a separate room, away from the watchful eyes of (Y/N) and the rest of the family. The tension in the air was palpable, and they needed to discuss what had just transpired.

Once they were in the privacy of the room, Garrett spoke first, his voice filled with awe and confusion. "Carlisle, we felt it... the mating bond. It was like a tidal wave, overwhelming and undeniable."

Carlisle's brow furrowed in concern. "This is troubling, indeed," he admitted. "A mating bond is a powerful force, but this situation is far from simple."

Benjamin, ever the optimist, couldn't help but see the bright side. "Isn't this a good thing? We've found our missing piece, someone who completes us."

Carlisle nodded slowly. "Yes, that's great for the two of you, but we have to consider that Charlie and (Y/N). They are all Bella has left linking her to her human life. Now that the two of you have found a mate within (Y/N), I fear how Bella might react."

Just as they were grappling with the complexity of the situation, the door swung open, and Bella entered, her eyes blazing with anger but her voice deceptively calm. "Did you do what I think you did?"

Garrett attempted to defuse the situation with a charming smile. "Bella, it's not something we planned. The mating bond, it's beyond our control."

But Bella wasn't placated. She pushed Garrett aside and confronted Benjamin. "You can't control who you mate with," he said.

Edward, who had been listening from the hallway, appeared at that moment. He knew how to handle Bella's emotions better than anyone. "Bella, come with me," he urged gently, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Bella hesitated for a moment, her eyes still locked onto Benjamin. But eventually, she relented and allowed Edward to lead her out of the room and into the forest to hunt.

As they disappeared into the woods, the tension in the room eased slightly, but the weight of the situation remained. Garrett, Benjamin, and Carlisle were left to grapple with the implications of the unexpected mating bond and the potential consequences it might bring to their unconventional family.

170 notes · View notes

cosmicanemoia · 8 months

Text

Another Curse?

Regina Mills x Reader

SUMMARY

You wake up in the middle of the road, just a few feet across the borderline of storybrooke with no memory of the life you've had, the life you've led, and the life you've built.

The only thing you can remember is your name, basic information about yourself, about things, and about basic knowledge, enough to keep a person alive. You don't even remember your birthday, or if you have a family. You have to start anew.

You put your foot in front of the other, and you kept on going as if someone was pulling your strings, and when you get to the town centre, you halted in the middle of the road.

A yellow volkswagen beetle almost ran you over. Luckily, the car stopped before it you and sent you flying across town. Your breath hitched, and you're left there frozen, almost being ran over, scared the hell out of you.

The driver stepped out of the car, revealing a tall blonde woman. "Hey! What the hell are you doing just standing in the middle of the road?" She demanded to know, and you answered truthfully, "I don't know." The woman looked around and inquired once more, "What's your name? What are you doing here?" And you once again answered her truthfully, not seeing the point in lying, "I'm Y/N, and I don't know." "Seriously? Do you know anything else other than your name?" Her head is full of question, she signalled you to get in the car. You're still in shock, so you just followed her.

"I'm Emma Swan, sheriff of this town. Let's continue this conversation at the station."

The car ride was quiet and rather quick, you thought to yourself.

When you get to the station, she scans your fingerprints, and the technology is taking long to find a match. It's as if you don't belong in their world. She asked a lot of questions to which your answer is always "I don't know."

Emma dialled something on the telephone and called someone to inform them about this strange situation. "There's this new girl in town, and she doesn't know anything except her name. Come down to the station and help me figure this out. Please, and thank you."

After a few minutes. A brunette, rather attractive woman walks into the station. "Who's this new girl you're talking about, and where is she?" She asked, and you spin the chair around to meet the gaze of the brunette, "that would be me, miss."

You stand up and held your hand out for her to shake "I'm Y/N and I don't know anything else other than staying alive" she chuckled at your corny joke and just as she's about to reach for your hand, Emma stated bursting your bubbles, "you think this is another curse?" You burst out laughing which quickly turn into an awkward chuckle when you see the two woman with stoic faces, you gulped and cleared your throat "Sorry, 'curse' that seems like a funny thing for me but from the look in your faces, safe to say I was wrong."

"You think this is funny?" The brunette practically growled at you. And you apologised. "Sorry, miss. I don't remember shit about shits, so please forgive my ignorance." You slightly bowed your head in her direction. Emma smirked, seeing the brunette flustered by your actions to which you are oblivious of, "cut her some slack, Regina. She doesn't remember anything other than her name."

Emma told you everything. From how they were characters from story books and how a curse or two fell upon them. How both of them were evil once upon a time.

After a few quiet sighs and stolen glances, the woman who Emma said was Regina finally speaks, "What do you suggest we do with her then?"

"Let's look into granny's diner and see if there's a vacant room available." Emma declared, and Regina side eyed you and scoffed, seeing a genuine smile on your face, "why do I have to go? You can do this on your own. Besides, I have far more important things to do than find a stranger a place to stay." Regina whined, and Emma put her hands on her waist and said, "Really? Name one."

Regina looked around but never met your gaze. She muttered words that couldn't be understood, and she sighed loudly, admitting defeat. "Fine, let's just get this over with."

You all went outside. Emma told you to get in the car, but you just stood there contemplating. "Why are you just standing there? Get moving." Regina demanded.

You sighed and looked at her with a sheepish smile. "I don't feel so good about getting in that car anymore." You told them, and Regina rolled her eyes but also chuckled inside. "Oh, you'll get used to it, just get in and let's start moving," Regina stated, and you replied, "Can we just walk there? I'm not getting in the car that almost ran me over."

Regina's eyes widened and turned to look at Emma. "Seriously!?" Emma just shrugs and replied "come on, Madam Mayor, let's get those steps in."

When you got to the diner, the smell of deliciousness blessed your nose, and your stomach growled in turn. They both look at you and eye each other.

"Order anything you want, pretty woman. It's on me." The woman over the counter said, you look at Emma and Regina, thinking she meant one of them. You saw Regina roll her eyes, so you thought, maybe she meant Emma, but when your eyes return to meet the eyes of the woman, she claimed, "I meant you, cutie."

Regina scoffed way too loud than she should, so you turn to look at her and fake a pout "What? You don't think I'm pretty or at least cute? Well, I think you're stunning." Regina, a stuttering mess, "what-- I- what?" Before you can respond, the woman said, grabbing your attention, "I'm Ruby, and you are?" She held her hand out for you to shake, and you replied, "I'm Y/N." Before you can shake her hand, Regina speaks, "I'll just have a coffee." Ruby retracted her hand before you can shook it. She wrote down Regina's order and turns to look at you after waiting for your order as well.

"Give me your best and worst, I'll decide which is which" you held your hand out wanting to properly and formally be introduced "thanks for the treat" she shook your hand out and grinned widely.

After a few seconds, you smiled at her awkwardly and requested, "Can I have my hand back?" She chuckled awkwardly, "right."

Regina sneered seeing the interaction, and Emma grinned knowingly after seeing Regina's reaction to Ruby flirting with you.

When Regina first heard your voice and saw you eye to eye, she felt a pull and that something had shifted. She's immediately drawn to you, though she may not admit it to herself now, she will in time.

During the first week of your arrival, everyone was wary of your presence, but they eventually warms up to you. Except Regina, who keeps her distance from you.

On the second week, she had a broken sink, and your boss sent you to fix it. You rang her doorbell, and when she opened the door to reveal you, she was shocked to see you. "What are you doing here?" She asked, and you quickly replied, "To fix your broken heart," she was taken aback by your sentence. All she could say was, "What?" "You have a broken sink, and I'm here to fix it." You elaborated, you thought you had said 'sink' earlier, but she definitely heard you say 'heart' loud and clear. She just shrugged it off, thinking that you're just being playful.

She watched as you worked, and she could feel herself heat up seeing you so focused and sweaty. She cleared her throat, but you didn't look at her. She cleared it some more, but it still didn't get your attention, and with one last attempt, "Would you like something to drink?" She still failed. A few moments later, she attempted again, "Y/N dear." You stopped what you're doing and give her your undivided attention. "I'm all yours, what's up?" You stare at her as she stared at you, you furrowed your brows, "I thought you called my name," "I did" she nodded her head while still staring at you and how she wish you were truly all hers. You nodded your head back, "I'm done. Is there anything else I can help you with?" She wanted to say 'yeah, help me scratch an itch your giving' but what came out her mouth was "I can't think of anything at the moment but I'll be sure to call you if something came up." She kicks herself internally for being such a wimp whenever she's with you.

There was a party at Regina's House, to which you are invited to, in the third week. "Bored already? Dear." You flinched, you weren't expecting someone to you,"Reggie, you startled me." You look up into the sky and sigh, you look back to her, "can I help you with anything?" You asked and she opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out, she closed it again and just shakes her head "no" she was about to walk away but you grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her closer to you. "Wait," you said, and your breath was tickling her skin. It gave her goosebumps. Her heart is jumping out of her chest, and she chuckles nervously, "what?" She asked. Your hand that grabbed her is now resting on her waist, "Hold on," you replied and added, "Stay still, you have something on your hair." You went to remove it and tuck a few loose strands to her ear, then proceed to pat her head softly, "there, all good."

Her hands rested on your shoulders, and you stared at each other a little longer. When you felt her slowly pulling away, you pulled her into a hug. You felt her fight it, so you tightened your embrace. "Don't fight it." You said softly, and she slowly melts away at your embrace. She would love to get used to this.

Its been months now since you appeared in storybrooke. They still couldn't figure out what your deal is.

You help in town in any way you can. You try to pay back the kindness they showed you. Waitressing at granny's, doing construction work, plumbing, baby sitting, and delivering food.

One midnight, you delivered food to a big white house. You rang the doorbell, rang, and rang, just as you're about to ring it again, the owner burst it open. Regina is on her night gown, and there is irritation written on her face.

"What the hell? It's the middle of the night." She chided, and you just stood there confused where her irritation is coming from, then she added, "well dear, what can I help you with?" You look her right in the eye, "You ordered food, I'm just here to deliver," "I didn't order anything, it's late, and I'm about to sleep."

She starts to slam the door close, you put your free hand between, and the door slams. She's oblivious of the hand you stupidly put there. You screamed in shock, and it startled her. You bit your lips, wincing in pain, and you slowly put the delivery bag down. A tear started rolling down your cheeks. Your hand is throbbing with pain. She looked at you genuinely concerned and cursing herself inside for hurting you. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. I didn't mean to-" she reached for your hands, but you raised it up, pretending that it didn't hurt like hell, so she won't worry, "Don't worry. I'm sure it'll be fine in the morning." You gave her a reassuring smile. You cleared your throat, "It says here Regina Mills and it's address to you. Would it be okay if you receive it? But if you don't I can take it back." You requested, and she decided to receive the food that she knew for sure she didn't order. "Are you sure your hand is okay?" Regina asked, and your eyes fell to look on your reddened and swollen hand. You just shrug it off and say, "it definitely doesn't hurt as much now. Have a good night, Reggie." You wink at her and give her a sweet smile before departing. Regina just stood at her door, watching you walk away, when you're out of sight she realised she has been watching and she gulped and looked around, she closes the door as her head shakes side to side.

The next morning, your hand swelled. Regina dragged you to the hospital. "You should stay at my place until your hand heals." She suggested, and you said and winked at her, "sure baby, whatever helps you sleep at night." Regina takes care of you and follows you everywhere.

"What are you doing?" You asked Regina, "I'm trying to help you." You smirked at her, "I still have a functioning hand, I can feed myself. You're not my mommy." Regina laughed at the end of your sentence, and you smirked when you saw her reaction to your joke. "You know Reggie, there are other ways you could help me with." You declared in a seductive tone, but Regina didn't catch up on it, "Sure of course, anything you need, what is it?" She asked eagerly. You just chuckled and shrugged it off, "Never mind."

Months have passed, and its been more than a year since your arrival. As times passed, the townspeople grew fonder of you, especially the Mayor, Regina, who seemed to have fallen in love with you.

She would bring you apples. Invites you often at her house. Treat you to dinner. Walks with you, ever since you passed at her house alone in the night.

"Do you still not remember anything?" Regina asked, you answered, "No. Its as if I didn't have a life before here." "Maybe you don't." Regina quickly replied, and you chuckled at her, "but I feel like I did, I have, or had." "Maybe they didn't want you there." Regina added, and you nodded. "Maybe. But what if I have a wife?" You said, and the thought of you having a wife that is not her, saddened her, Regina felt her heart shrink. And you continue to speak your thought "Or a child? Euh-- I hope I don't have a child..." you shivered at the thought of having a child and said, "I probably shouldn't have said the last part out loud." Regina chuckled and claimed, "I didn't see a ring on that finger, so you probably don't have a wife." She chuckled nervously at the end of her sentence.

You're conflicted, you feel like your heart already belongs to someone but maybe not, so you just shrug it off and replied "probably," Regina let's out a breathe she didn't know she was holding and she felt relieved.

You and Regina hang out a lot. She loves spending time with you, except when you decide to hang at Granny's. There's a certain someone who 'basically throws herself at you,' she thought, and she didn't like it.

When Ruby flirts with you, you flirt back. Regina would think to herself, 'why does she always flirt back to Ruby and never to me?' The thing is you never thought Regina flirts with you, and you don't catch up on it. It's either, her flirting game is not good, or you're just so oblivious when it comes to her. Maybe it's vice versa.

"Why don't you just ask Ruby out on a date already?" She growled at you, and there's a tinge of hurt in her voice. You snapped your head up to look at her, "where did that come from?" You chuckled at her, she rolled her eyes at you in response, "oh, come on, she flirts with you, and you flirt back every time, and she flirts a lot." You burst out laughing, and you shook it off, "that's just how she is. It's nothing serious."

Regina scoffed, "whatever," and she crossed her arms. You shook your head in disagreement, "She's not my type. I'm more into older women." Regina remained silent. "Besides, I flirt with you more, basically all the time, but you never once flirt back." You claimed, and she sneered, "I flirt with you all the time, and you're the one who never flirts back."

You burst out laughing after hearing her remarks, and she's confused and a little bit annoyed, "of course you think this is funny." She said in a menacing tone.

"We're both such idiots." You shake your head, and she just looks at you as her confusion grows. You grabbed her face and kissed her passionately, hungrily, and desperately, and she just let you, returning the desperation, the hunger, and the passion. When you pull away for air, you can hear everyone at the diner whooping and cheering. Regina gulped completely shocked by your initiation. She wasn't expecting that, but she's not complaining and would like to do it again soon.

Emma, who popped out of nowhere, observed Regina, "You okay, Madam Mayor? Your face is as red as your apples." Regina gulped one more time and sighed, "Oh dear."

2 years had already passed since you first kissed her. You both felt safe and secured. Regina is thinking of asking you to marry her.

#regina mills x reader #regina mills x you #regina mills x original female character(s)#x reader #x you #regina mills #regina mills jealous #regina mills gets a hug #regina mills gets a pat in the head #idiots in love #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #once upon a time #emma swan #red riding hood #hurt/comfort if you squint?

215 notes · View notes

cowpokeomens · 4 months

Text

Pas de Trois: Part One

Pairing: Reader x Noah, eventual Reader x Nicholas

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: None! (Yet)

I was just thinking, like: Swans, right? But Noah and Nicholas. No beta we die like Odette and Siegfried!

It was as cold in the beginning as it was in the end.

You could pretend all you wanted- that the embrace of a not-quite lover could warm you enough to stay alive. But you both knew better by now.

It starts the way it ends: at a pond.

You need a breather from your mother and her love schemes. Something about a party at the Van der Whatever’s condo on the east side, the unwed men rumored to be in attendance.

All those years of safeguarding your virginity like a crown jewel, only to be whored out to the first eligible bachelor the second you turned 23 and expressed no interest in marriage.

You roll your eyes at the thought of it; the idea of preserving your chastity whilst being surrounded by the scum of the earth in Bottega stilettos. It feels like you rub elbows with literal vampires most days: creatures that linger in the shadows, waiting to drain you of whatever they needed from you in that moment.

At least Bela Lugosi never asked you about why you decided against Yale after your father’s hefty (and unrequested) donation.

The air is crisp, biting at your cheeks as you walk. You wander into a familiar park near your apartment, the street lamps illuminating the freshly fallen snow in a gentle glow. All around you, trees creak and groan in the wind, as if they, too, were ready for spring again. It isn’t so secluded that you felt any real danger, but it was far enough away from the sounds of traffic to give your mind space to wander.

Faintly, you hear the sounds of people milling about on the street. There’s a theatre up the road- they’ve been hosting a ballet company performing The Nutcracker for the last month or so. Looking through the gaps in the bushes, you can spot a few people dressed in rich velvets and fur coats taking photos under the gleam of marquee lights. You haven’t gone to see The Nutcracker for years now. Your mother stopped taking you when you confessed that you did not have the talent- nor endurance- to be a real ballerina, the same time that she unenrolled you from dance classes altogether.

Humming Tchaikovsky's Pas de Deux to yourself, you meander through the park until you come upon a pond. A treasure in your heart, it’s a spot you come to often to clear your head- though this is your first nighttime foray.

Longer than it was wide, the pond was not the most impressive in the city by a longshot. Most people didn’t even know of its existence, save the few dog-walkers who came through in the mid-morning and late afternoon. It was familiar, though, having been situated here as far back as your memory could recall.

Winter crept over the small body of water in sheets of ice at the outer perimeter. If the temperature continued to drop (it would) the entire thing would be frozen solid by next week. As it was, the ice at the edges looked thick enough to hold up an entire person.

You fight back the melancholy this brings you, knowing the incoming freeze would take with it the many creatures that inhabit the pond. The ducks have long since left, flying somewhere further south, somewhere warmer. The fish have been awfully quiet the last few weeks as well, settling in for their winter rest. That really just left the-

Ah, You think, sounding hushed even in your head. There you are.

They glide in silently, slicing through the water like moonlight. Long, graceful necks with great plumes puffing up behind them, the swans are pure magic in the stillness of the night. They make a triangle in the water, with four smaller fowl following the swan at the crest of the formation. Its dark eyes meet yours for a moment, and you feel so utterly vulnerable under its gaze that you look away, suddenly very interested in your shoes.

Must you be intimidated by everything? You sigh to yourself internally. Seriously, a fucking bird?

You felt silly as you built the courage to finally look back up, but the bevy had disappeared. Craning your neck around, you were halfway to considering searching for them on foot when a branch cracked behind you.

Whirling around, your eyes scanned the tree line, pulling the mace on your keychain out with shaking hands. The neighborhood was safe, sure, but you weren’t stupid. A girl alone in a park well after the sun had set? Yeah, you’d seen the crime shows- no thanks.

“Hello?” You call, your voice wobbling despite your best efforts.

Another crack.

Your mace was up in an instant, poised and ready to fire. You are not a damsel in distress, you are certainly not going to be a statistic. As your heart pounded in your throat, a figure came into view.

“Ew, there’s bird shit everywhere- Woah!” The stranger stumbled backwards, hands up in the air as he saw you. “Oh my god, please don’t tase me-“

“It’s not a taser.” Was, for some reason, your first response. Then, “Who are you? What are you doing lurking around in the dark?”

His eyes went wide. “It’s a public park! I’m going for a walk!”

Your eyes narrow, the hand wielding the mace never moving. “A walk? At 9:45 at night?”

Impossibly, his eyes grew wider. They were dark- familiar in a way you couldn’t fully place in your panicked state. The snow reflects off of them, reminiscent of starlight. “You are also in the park at 9:45? And you’re armed?”

Well, that was certainly a valid observation. You take two deep breaths, then lower the mace, though not pocketing it entirely. You spend a moment observing his appearance.

He was tall- tall enough to be threatening, if he wanted to. Slim build, dark eyes, like you’d noted before. His hair was parted down the middle, brushing against the top of his cheekbones softly. He’s handsome, you think. Not the overly-manicured handsome you were accustomed to, though. He reminded you of the first dandelions in the spring; The delight you feel at seeing a living thing burst forth from the frozen ground, uncaring of if it's a weed or not.

A huge sweater encompassed him, something light in color and soft-looking. The sleeves poked out of the arm holes of his jacket in a strange way, as if it took a great deal of work to stuff them in there in the first place. A hat topped it all off, giant pom-pom bobbing at you in a way that was far from menacing.

“That’s a weird hat to wear while you creep on people in the park.” You quip, cocking an eyebrow at him.

His mouth drops open in shock. “My grandmother made me this, fuck you very much. And it’s winter! Of course I’m wearing a hat. Are you always this bad with logic and reason?”

“So you don’t deny creeping?” You ignored his question.

The face he gives you would have been comical under different circumstances. “Wha- Okay, look, I’m sorry for encroaching on your turf- even if that turf is city property-“ he mumbles the last bit to himself- “But I’m not like, a serial-killer-murderer. Pinky promise.”

He looks so earnest, it reminds you of a little kid. He is holding out a single pinky to you, a safe distance away.

You eye him warily for a second, then sigh, taking a few steps forward to interlock your pinky with his. He beams at you, smile as bright as the snow that began to silently fall around the two of you.

You introduce yourself, shifting on your feet in a way that feels awkward and uncomfortable, like you were suddenly too aware of your body’s movements.

“I’m Noah.” He offers warmly, cheeks and nose tinged a rosy pink from the winter air. The longer you look at him, the less intimidated you feel. He was still large- but in the way that the inflatable noodle-people outside of used car dealerships were large. He didn’t flail, necessarily, though. His movements seemed fluid, controlled. Where you were rigid from years of posturing amongst socialites, he was naturally elegant, as at ease under your gaze as the swans in the pond earlier.

Soft, your mind supplies. He looks soft.

His voice is gentle when he speaks again. “So, what brought you to the park in the middle of a blizzard?”

You try to resist the grin that creeps across your face; you fail miserably. “If you think this is a blizzard, you’re in for a shock come February.”

“Do you defer every question someone asks you, or am I just special?” His dark eyes are trained on you, head cocked to the side curiously. It wasn’t an attack- his expression was too open to be on the offense. He was genuinely waiting for your answer.

“I needed to get away from my mother.” You answer honestly, shrugging, though not meeting his gaze.

You can feel his eyes on you, though, searching for more. “You got into an argument?”

Shaking your head, you cast your eyes back to the pond, hoping to get another glimpse of the swans. “Not an argument. We have the same discussion every week, knowing fully well that we’ll disagree and end up screaming at each other.”

You have not felt… seen, like this, ever. You aren’t an adamant rule-follower, but you’re far from a rebel, too, allowing you to safely pass through life unnoticed. Even your mother only really seemed to remember you after your older sister had been married off to some fishing industry tycoon. To have a stranger see through your facade was unnerving.

“Disagreeing and screaming sounds like an argument to me.” He pushes, to which you hum noncommittally. Sensing your apprehension, he follows your line of sight to the pond instead. “The ducks left weeks ago.”

“I’m not looking for the ducks.” You answer shortly, perhaps a bit too harsh.

“Oh?” Is his only response.

It’s obvious he wants you to continue. This was a safer topic than your mother, so you yield to his piqued interest. “I like watching the swans. They were here earlier, but I think you scared them off.” Your eyes slide over to him slyly.

He scoffs, looking insulted. “The swans probably left because they were scared you’d mace them.”

You whirl on him, poking a finger into his chest. “The swans don’t lurk in the bushes at the park like a weirdo.”

His expression is unimpressed, but there’s a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “No one was lurking. Besides,” He grabs the finger directed at him gently, guiding it down to your side. “You don’t make a good damsel in distress. Anyone trying to steal you would just bring you back when they figured out how mean you are.”

“I’ve been nothing but cordial.” You sniff, brows furrowing at him.

His smirk is a little overwhelming. “If this is you on your “Nice” setting, I’d hate to see you pissed off.”

“Stop pushing your luck, then.” You respond dryly. He throws his head back to laugh, and the sound makes you feel warmer in your coat.

You turn back to the pond, giving up on seeing the swans again tonight. You probably need to head home, anyways- you were expected at this stupid party, and suffering through it would be better than dealing with your mother’s nagging if you were absent. You let out a soft sigh, resigned to your fate.

“I should go.” You say to no one in particular.

You feel Noah’s eyes on you again. “Hey, don’t let me run you off. I can go if I’m bothering you-”

You shake your head, body turning to face him before you realize you’re moving. “No, it’s not you- really.” You offer what you hope is a kind smile. “I’m expected somewhere. My mother will be horribly cross with me if I’m not there.”

He’s giving you an understanding smile, eyes crinkling up at the edges. “Sounds like a real rager. Will I, uh-” He glances down at his shoes, kicking at the snow before continuing, “Will I get to see you again?”

The question genuinely startles you. You assumed your demeanor (and mace) would be off-putting enough for him to be quite happy not speaking to you from this moment forward, but he… wanted to see you again?

“I mean,” You stammer, unable to find your words, “I’ll be around. At the park. If you’re also around.”

When he looks up, his face is alight. “Okay, yeah. I’ll also be around. Near the swans.”

A grin sneaks its way onto your face, unbeknownst to you. “Yeah, near the swans.” You avert your gaze, needing to look anywhere but at his hopeful expression. “See ya, Noah.”

He calls out a goodbye, but you’ve already scurried past him, the heels of your boots clicking rapidly against the sidewalk as you make your escape. You don’t dare glance back.

Your home is a few minutes away, shorter than usual given the fact that you’re practically jogging through the winter night. By the time you’ve shut your front door behind you, you’re out of breath, chest rising and falling heavily.

Your mother appears from the kitchen, her usual expression of passive annoyance plastered on her face. She calls your name, as if she needs to get your attention when you’re the only two people in the room. “Where have you been? It’s been snowing for half an hour, you’re going to catch a cold. And your boots are covered in mud- for heaven’s sake, really, we need to leave soon. Why are you grinning like that?”

You don’t register the smile on your face, still panting. Schooling your features into neutrality, you mutter out a quick, “I’m going to change clothes, be down in a sec.”

She’s ranting about punctuality and manners, but you barely hear it as you run up the stairs, grin overcoming your features once more as you think about dark eyes and soft smiles.

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens x reader #bad omens smut #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #cowpokeomens

59 notes · View notes

heckofabecca · 3 months

Text

sketch of an upcoming scene in Beneath Golden Eaves, part 2 of my Lothíriel-centric series Far From The Swan-road.

#lothíriel #lothiriel #éomer #eothiriel #éothíriel #becca draws tolkien #far from the swan-road #my art

21 notes · View notes

thxrnking · 4 months

Text

Tainted Love - a dark!Jacklust one shot

Tag List: @mightnightmooon @anja-the-sane-sibling @phoenixriaartemis @wainmfis @solareclipse2112 @miraimeity @nervoustimetravelpost @libralelia @punsandquips @caitlynnrosespn @olivialivielou @charminggold25 @the-triggered-lizard @drowntowns

Summary - A dark shadow has been creeping across the Danceverse and after trying to help, you find yourself dragged before the Swan Prince. Horrible truths build upon terrifying revelations as it slowly dawns on you, there may not be a way out.

----

It was a mistake. A calculated risk you took but your Math didn’t quite check out. Your friends told you not to do it but you couldn’t just let those Swan minions take that poor innocent man. He made it out but the cost was your own freedom.

Swan Tower stands tall at the epicentre of the Swan Empire. No one who enters is ever seen as themselves again. Either they die or are turned and naturally you’re not overly fond of either option. Struggling against your captors and squirming in their grip to get away makes no difference. Their clawed hands hold tight; their emotionless faces don’t change. Eventually sick of the fight they take a tighter grip and proceed to half-drag and half-carry you in.

The throne room is a large cavernous space devoid of much of anything except for the throne at the far end and the large swan statue behind it. It’s hollow and empty and as you shout yet again to be let go your voice bounces around the entire room back and forth in a cruel mockery of you. As you approach the throne you notice a figure draped across it, one that is very familiar.

The former Jack Rose. While wearing the same old red suit, his once iconic red hair is now a stark black, with a small pink streak, while his bright pink feather boa has almost completely turned black. No one truly knows what happened to him, only that he prefers to go by Jack Swan now and is a twisted shadow of his former self.

As you’re brought before the throne you’re thrown to the floor, barely catching yourself before you chip your teeth. You look to the throne. The Swan Prince is sat sideways, his legs over one arm while his back rests against the other. He isn’t looking at you, his attention taken by some dust or dirt on his gloves instead.

Seconds tick past as you desperately look around hoping to see some sort of way out, but with Jack Swan before you, the minions who brought you in still behind you, and a hundred and fifty feet to the nearest doorway, you’re stuck waiting for him to acknowledge you.

“You can’t do this, you know,” Swan turns to you. He looks bored and as though your mere presence is nothing but a nuisance, “Getting in our way. It’s rude.”

You try to speak but your response is nonsense, torn between an apology you don’t mean and a scathing take-down that you don’t have the guts to back up. You’re not ignorant to the situation you find yourself in and honestly don’t know which road will get you the least tortured.

Swan chuckles, apparently finding your bumbling amusing as he swings his legs off the arm of the throne and moves to stand.

“We have this plan, you see. Very important, very precise and we just don’t care for those who make the mistake of standing in the way.” Each footstep as he walks forward echoes around you, piercing the air and cutting into your chest as you struggle to keep your calm, “So an example has to be made.”

Digging deep you find the strength to spit out that he doesn’t scare you. It doesn’t matter if it’s true or not, you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you tremble.

“It’s not me you have to be afraid of,” Swan can’t help but laugh at your attempt at bravery, “Not when Mother gave me a powerful friend to do my dirty work.”

From behind the throne steps another figure. Taller, much darker in overall colour to the point it takes you a moment to realise just who you’re looking at. As it dawns on you, your jaw drops.

No!

Almost unrecognisable, Wanderlust as you’ve never seen him before steps forward. A purple shirt, blue pin-striped trousers, and a black feathered cape, while a black diamond over one eye makes it hard to look at him. The colours are similar enough that the more you look the more you see him, but the colours are unbalanced, almost like you’re looking at a fun-house mirror reflection given life. Worst of all, his crown, an iconic sight that’s inspired countless of citizens across all the Danceverse has been twisted, stretched, and spiked beyond recognition.

“You’re late.” Jack smirks as he watches your reaction, playfully admonishing Wanderlust without even turning.

“I’m sorry, your Highness.”

Rumours have been flying for weeks that Wanderlust had been overtaken but you never actually believed it before now, no one did. No one wanted to. He’s supposed to stand for all that is good and right and joyous about everything and if even he couldn’t stand up against the Night Swan then who could?

“I know that look.” The Swan Prince saunters forward, crouching before you and peering at you like you’re some animal, the smile never leaving his face, “I’ve seen that look a hundred times, hell I wore that look once, remember that Lust?” he calls over his shoulder but doesn’t wait for an answer, “then Mother taught me better and now I know. I understand that this is what’s best for everyone. The Swan Empire is what’s best for everyone.”

The smile falters and you see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Like he’s reading from a script and he’s just heard what he’s saying out loud for the first time and it doesn’t make sense.

Yes Jack. Remember, this isn’t right!

A blue hand falls on Jack’s shoulder and in a flicker the moment is gone. Self-assurance, confidence, and that hollow narcissistic bravado that had wavered is back in force. While the two of you were staring in silence, Wanderlust has stepped forward and with only a hand, silently anchored his partner back to reality. Swan reaches to place his own hand on top of Wanderlust’s.

“Even Wanderlust used to think like you.”

Jack Swan stands, stepping back slightly as Wanderlust reaches forward, wrapping his arms around his partner’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. Swan leans back into the hold.

“Now he knows better. Don’t you?”

“Yes, your Highness.”

Wanderlust nuzzles at his partner’s cheek with a small smirk while Swan melts further back into his possessive grip, humming as he drinks in the attention.

Then Swan swiftly turns in his partner’s hold, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him in. Wanderlust doesn’t hesitate, shifting just as their lips crush together so he can hold Swan just as tight. It’s forceful and passionate, both of them gripping and kissing as though the world will end the second they stop.

Everyone knew the rumours about Wanderlust and Jack Rose. Whispers of a forbidden bond that went unspoken and unfulfilled; an implicit trust that went beyond the mere friendship they showed to the world around them. Even so, the thought of them ever doing anything was laughable. No one would have accepted it.

Seeing them like this, unrestrained, you realise that their being paired together is no accident.

Both of them in their own right are powerful enough to stand against Night Swan, and given their strength they’re the most likely to question what they’re doing. But as long as she allows them to be together, free from judgement, free from expectation, if either should start to doubt, the other would be there to remind them exactly what they have to lose. As long as they’re allowed to keep the other near, there would be no rescuing either of them.

Swan stops, shoving Wanderlust away from him.

“Enough.”

Wanderlust lets go and steps back, watching intently as Swan brushes his suit down and straightens himself out. It’s like he’s waiting for further instruction, and he doesn’t have to wait long.

“Take care of this one,” Swan dismissively gestures over his shoulder at you, “I have to speak with Mother.”

Swan pauses, reaching out to cup Wanderlust’s cheek, allowing his fingers to brush down it as he walks away from you. Wanderlust turns, trying to let the fingers linger for as long as possible before they eventually drop off. Wanderlust then watches as his partner struts towards the exit.

The moment Swan is gone, Wanderlust finally turns his attention to you, stepping towards you. His lips are a firm line with the slightest hint of a smirk tugging at the very edges. The smile burns in his eyes, not even a sliver of the uncertainty you’d seen in Jack’s.

Trembling, you shakily get to your feet, able to feel the beat rumbling the floor beneath you. You know what’s coming. You know that against the former Prince of the Danceverse you’ll never win but you won’t go down without a fight.

The music strikes up, welling up around you and Wanderlust offers you one single piece of advice.

“It will hurt less if you don’t fight it.”

#Just Dance 2024 #Just Dance #Jacklust #dark!Jacklust #jd Jack Rose #jd Wanderlust #jd Jacklust #vision!Jack Rose #corrupted!Wanderlust #The Worst Timeline #Just Dance AU #AU #reader POV fic #Night Children AU

55 notes · View notes

la-pheacienne · 5 days

Note

Top 5: quotes from asoiaf 🙂

Sorry nonnie I procrastinated so much on this because it was impossible for me to choose just 5. I won't mention the quotes that encapsulate asoiaf the best necessarily, but the quotes that speak to me the most personally.

The door loomed before her, the red door, so close, so close, the hall was a blur around her, the cold receding behind. And now the stone was gone and she flew across the Dothraki sea, high and higher, the green rippling beneath, and all that lived and breathed fled in terror from the shadow of her wings. She could smell home, she could see it, there, just beyond that door, green fields and great stone houses and arms to keep her warm, there. She threw open the door. "… the dragon …" And saw her brother Rhaegar, mounted on a stallion as black as his armor. Fire glimmered red through the narrow eye slit of his helm. "The last dragon," Ser Jorah's voice whispered faintly. "The last, the last." Dany lifted his polished black visor. The face within was her own.

A Game of Thrones - Daenerys IX

And no matter how far the dragon flew each day, come nightfall some instinct drew him home to Dragonstone. His home, not mine. Her home was back in Meereen, with her husband and her lover. That was where she belonged, surely. Keep walking. If I look back I am lost. Memories walked with her. Clouds seen from above. Horses small as ants thundering through the grass. A silver moon, almost close enough to touch. Rivers running bright and blue below, glimmering in the sun. Will I ever see such sights again? On Drogon's back she felt whole. Up in the sky the woes of this world could not touch her. How could she abandon that?

A Dance with Dragons - Daenerys X

Jaime lay on his back afterward, staring at the night sky, trying not to feel the pain that snaked up his right arm every time he moved it. The night was strangely beautiful. The moon was a graceful crescent, and it seemed as though he had never seen so many stars. The King’s Crown was at the zenith, and he could see the Stallion rearing, and there the Swan. The Moonmaid, shy as ever, was half-hidden behind a pine tree. How can such a night be beautiful? he asked himself. Why would the stars want to look down on such as me? "Jaime," Brienne whispered, so faintly he thought he was dreaming it. "Jaime, what are you doing?" "Dying," he whispered back. "No," she said, "no, you must live." He wanted to laugh. "Stop telling me what do, wench. I'll die if it pleases me." "Are you so craven?" The word shocked him. […] "What else can I do, but die?" "Live," she said, "live, and fight, and take revenge."

A Storm of Swords - Jaime IV

Rhaegar had put his hand on Jaime’s shoulder. “When this battle’s done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but… well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return.” Those were the last words Rhaegar Targaryen ever spoke to him. Outside the gates an army had assembled, whilst another descended on the Trident. So the Prince of Dragonstone mounted up and donned his tall black helm, and rode forth to his doom. He was more right than he knew. When the battle was done, there were changes made […]. It was queer, but he felt no grief. Where are my tears? Where is my rage? Jaime Lannister had never lacked for rage. “Father,” he told the corpse, “it was you who told me that tears were a mark of weakness in a man, so you cannot expect that I should cry for you.”

A Feast for Crows - Jaime I

Marsh flushed a deeper shade of red. "The lord commander must pardon my bluntness, but I have no softer way to say this. What you propose is nothing less than treason. For eight thousand years the men of the Night's Watch have stood upon the Wall and fought these wildlings. Now you mean to let them pass, to shelter them in our castles, to feed them and clothe them and teach them how to fight. Lord Snow, must I remind you? You swore an oath." "I know what I swore." Jon said the words. "I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. [...] Are you certain that I have not forgotten some? The ones about the king and his laws, and how we must defend every foot of his land and cling to each ruined castle? How does that part go?" Jon waited for an answer. None came. "I am the shield that guards the realms of men. Those are the words. So tell me, my lord—what are these wildlings, if not men?"

A Dance with Dragons - Jon XI

#valyrianscrolls #anonymous #ask game #asoiaf #asoiaf quotes #daenerys targaryen #jaime lannister #jon snow #brienne of tarth

20 notes · View notes

shipposttt · 6 months

Text

The Ship of the Day: Swan Queen

Name: Emma x Regina

Ship name: Swan Queen

Original content: Once Upon a Time (OUAT)

Ship info: Once Upon a Time is a TV show where all of the fairy-tale characters that we know and have been told about all our lives have been cursed by the Evil Queen into our land – the land without magic – and have been frozen in time for 28 years in a small town called Storybrooke. The legend goes that the daughter on Snow White and Prince Charming (the saviour) will come to town and wake everyone up from the curse. Thus, the show starts with Henry, the adopted son of Regina (the evil queen) going to find his birth mother Emma (the saviour/Snow White and Charming’s daughter) and bringing her back to Storybrooke.

Henry (their son) who has found out about the curse through a gifted storybook, spends a long time trying to convince Emma that the curse is real not just a story and that she’s the one that needs to break it. However, Emma has a hard time believing that everyone living in town is a cursed storybook character and only participates in these discussions with Henry to keep him happy.

Emma and Regina’s relationship gets off to a rocky start as Regina immediately begins to feel threatened by Emma, her sons birth mother, and due to the fact that her relationship with Henry is a little fractured during that point in time. It looks like she has nothing to worry about however as Emma vows to leave town that night although on her way out of town she gets run off the road by a wolf ultimately leading to a chain of events that have Emma staying in town.

During her stay in town Emma spends a lot of time at odds with Regina, they are constantly arguing over Henry (at first), and there is a lot of tension between them when they are making threats to each other and arguing. This arguing however comes to a stop after the fight they have over their son eating a poisoned apple turnover that Regina made for Emma. Emma wakes Henry up with true loves kiss and both mothers are happy their son is not dead. This is arguably the point where their relationship is worst, after this their relationship only gets better.

After Emma breaks the curse by waking Henry up and true loves kiss magic comes back to Storybrooke. This leads to a lot of instances in which Emma and Regina have to fight together to save the town and their son a lot and even in some instances save each other. There are also many points in the show where people don’t believe that Regina is redeemed and still see her as a villain however Emma has always believed in Regina’s redemption, even going as far as protecting and defending her when Regina is accused of murder. We see moments later on in this show of Emma bringing Regina lunch and the both of them teasing each other which shows how much their relationship has evolved from what it used to be.

There is a lot of tension that can be felt in this teasing and in their ever-present need to save each other and even in simple moment such as Emma declaring that she always knows when Regina is lying and that she wants to help Regina find her happy ending. The move of their relationship from enemies to people who trust one another with their lives – as they have on many occasions – is very important in understanding why these characters are so beloved together. This is because they are both passionate fighters about/for the things that they love and once they get over their differences and realise who similar they actually are, they spend a lot of time fighting to save each other. Even going as far as Emma absorbing the darkness/curse of the dark one in order to save Regina and her goodness.

Additionally, there are also multiple parallels throughout the show both visually and audibly wherein Swan Queen are compared to Snowing (Snow White and Prince Charming) who are a canon heterosexual couple who share two children. Why are moments between Emma and Regina being parallel to a couple in a canon romantic relationship, a couple who are professed to be (canon) romantic True Loves in this show, if Emma and Regina themselves aren’t meant to be in a romantic relationship and/or true loves.

Type of Ship: Queer Bait

Putting aside all of the fairy tale elements and all of the magic in this show, seeing the trope of two people sharing a child implies that by the end of the series these two people will be in a romantic relationship. Instances in which this trope occurs, and the parents have been a man and woman result in a romantic relationship, some examples include: About a Boy (2002), The Switch (2010), Life as We Know It (2010), Love Comes Softly (2003).

In all of these examples the male and female characters who are seen parenting a child together end up in romantic relationships. Why then did the creators of OUAT choose to apply this trope to their show only to have these two parental characters not end up together just because they are both women. They have spent the majority of the show making parenting decisions for their son together, fighting together to save their son and even becoming something resembling a family only for them to not end up together even though if they were a man and a woman instead of both women, they would have ended in a romantic relationship together.

Additionally, there are also instances in the show of prolonged eye contact and wide screen shots of these characters looking at each other. In this same show there are heterosexual characters with examples of the same moment happening that are in or do end up in a romantic relationship. If this is so then why isn’t it the same for Swan Queen, the only difference being that they are both women. The shots of these two characters together are conscious choices made by writers, producers and directors and have been put into the show making people think that what is going to happen is that these characters are going to end up in a romantic relationship, yet they never do! There is no need for creators to tease something that is not going to happen, the only thing that this does is creates outrage from audiences who were invested in this relationship and led to believe that it was a possibility. There have also been instances in which creators have spoken on social media about this ship speculation and actively participating in keeping this audience tuned into the show. They have reeled this audience in only for them to be disappointed by the results.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk!

Admin 🦈

#fandom #gay ships #swan queen #emma swan #regina mills #the evil queen #ouat #the savior #once upon a time #lgbtq community #shipping

41 notes · View notes

ceescedasticity · 6 months

Text

A fairy-tale

[Some version of this is probably going to be the next Unforsaken chapter, but I'm not 100% sure on the details yet.]

Once upon a time in a faraway land there lived two little fairy-princes. The Fairy-King and Fairy-Queen were good and kind and fair and loved each other and their children very, very much. They lived happily in peace, until one day a band of wicked Gnomes came to steal the kingdom's treasures. They killed the King and Queen, and cast the little fairy-princes into the wilderness to die.

But so great was the Fairy-Queen's love for her sons that she did not pass into the land of the dead but followed after the children, and found them, and they knew her and begged her to save them. Being a ghost she could not carry them to safety, so she reminded them of the power of their grandmother, a sorceress who changed her shape and spoke with birds. If they could take up that power, they might turn into birds and fly far away.

So the princes thought, and they whispered together; and then all at once there were not two fairy-princes but two great grey swans. The swans and the ghost flew far away from the Gnomes and the darkening wood, across plains and forests and mountains, until at last they came to a fair land where they might dwell in safety.

But the fairy-princes were not sorcerers like their grandmother; they did not know how to turn back into fairies, and the ghost could not tell them.

The ghost meant to stay with the swans always, but no land is safe for a ghost. A Shadow came hunting, and while she evaded it for a time, she could not evade it forever.

And then they were left all alone.

They shunned the dwellings of Elves and Men alike, for they feared any might hunt them as game or prove their enemy if they somehow explained who they were. They wanted their mother, but she had forbidden them from seeking her or going near the Shadow, and they were afraid.

So even though they yet had kin who would have welcomed and protected them, the fairy-princes were all alone in the world save each other for a very long time.

****

Many years later, after kingdoms rose and fell and the world was changed, the fairy-princes came across a brown wizard. They had never met before, but he recognized them and called out to them, for he knew their great-grandmother long, long ago; and as he knew the speech of birds, he could well understand them.

The princes were wary, but they sensed nothing of Shadow about the wizard, and at last returned and agreed to speak to him.

The brown wizard knew many things. Since he was being a wizard and not a fairy he could not himself change his shape, but he told them how they might once more take on the shape of Elves, and they did so.

But the wizard had not known them long ago before their home was ruined, so though he knew their names he could not tell them which name belonged to which fairy-prince, and they found they themselves had long forgotten.

The fairy-princes were distraught, and took the shape of swans once more, and fled.

****

Some time later the brown wizard found the fairy-princes again. This time he told them that they had a great-uncle yet in Middle-earth, and a nephew, and either would be overjoyed to welcome them.

But the fairy-princes said, "We do not remember any uncle, and we are sure we never met any nephew. How could we approach them as kin when we do not remember who we are? We will not go."

So the brown wizard told them of ships which took the Straight Road to the Blessed Land. Not only was their great-grandmother there, and their sister, but their lost father had been reborn there. The Elves who sailed the ships would welcome them even as swans, if they wished to speak to no one before their father, who would rejoice to see them.

At this the fairy-princes wavered, for they did remember their father and miss him, and surely he would know them. But—

"You did not say our mother was there," said the fairy-princes.

The wizard bowed his head. "I will not lie to you. She is not. I do not know where she is."

"We will not leave these shores until our mother is freed from the Shadow," said the fairy-princes, and they flew away.

****

The next time the brown wizard found the fairy-princes, he told them how their nephew and their great-uncle and all their kin left in Middle-earth were fighting the Shadow. Would the princes not go and fight alongside them? The wizard would vouch for them so they need say nothing of who they were if they wished not to speak of it.

But the fairy-princes said: "We will not go among Elves while we do not remember who we are." And they flew away again.

****

When next the brown wizard found the fairy-princes, he spoke of his blue brothers, who lived far away to the South and the East and dealt mainly with Men. The fairy-princes could go to either of them, and live as wizard's-kin, and the Men would understand they were different and not demand they be Men or Elves.

"How is that better than how we live now?" asked the fairy-princes.

"You would be safe," the wizard said.

"We do not need your safety and we will not live with your blue wizards," said the fairy-princes, and they flew away.

****

The next time the brown wizard found the fairy-princes they flew away before he could speak to them.

****

The next time the fairy-princes saw the wizard, he was high in the sky alongside them, on the back of a giant goose.

"Speak a while with me, fairy-swans," said the goose.

So the fairy-princes flew down to the ground, to speak with the wizard and the Queen of the Geese.

"You are fine well-grown swans," said the Queen of the Geese. "And you have done very well all this time on your own."

"Do not speak as though you are our mother," said the fairy-princes.

"But if you are swans you are of my people, and I am as a mother to all my flock," said the Queen of the Geese. "Will you instead allow Aiwendil to bring you among Elves or Men?"

To that the fairy-princes said nothing.

"You are fine well-grown swans, and you have done very well all this time on your own," the Queen of the Geese said again. "But you know this world is beginning to weary you. You need not be on your own, and you should not be on your own. If you will not go among Elves or Men, then stay among my flock."

The fairy-princes looked at each other. They might fly away, but the Queen of the Geese would only fly after them. "Very well," they said finally. "For now."

So it was that the fairy-princes came to live among the Geese.

****

Some years passed this way.

****

One day the Queen of the Geese returned from a flight on her own to the lake where the flock awaited her. She said: "The one who calls himself Lord of the Sky has asked a favor of me, and I am inclined to grant it."

Many of the Geese gathered to listen, and the fairy-princes did, too.

She said: "The Shadow called Abhorred is gone now, but there are yet souls enslaved. The time has come to free them. The Lord of the Skies and the Lord of the Waters and the Lord of Doom ask that we stand ready to carry these lost souls to safety, as they may not know the way for themselves. They do not ask that we join the fight. We must decide that for ourselves."

"Our mother!" cried the fairy-princes.

"Yes," said the Queen of the Geese. "This is to free your mother, and others like her."

"We wish to fight," said the fairy-princes.

"If you wish to fight, you will have to go among Elves, for it is they who accepted this task," said the Queen.

"We still wish to fight," said the fairy-princes.

"If you wish to fight, you will have to learn to fight, from me or from the Elves, and neither would be easy," said the Queen.

"We still wish to fight," said the fairy-princes.

"If you wish to fight, you will have to be among those who are enslaved like your mother, who bear the marks of that enslavement clearly, and who may strike at your senses like poison, living long in isolation as you have," said the Queen.

"We can learn to endure it," said the fairy-princes. "We must, for our mother's sake. We wish to fight."

"If you wish to fight, you will have to fight in company with two very wicked Gnomes, and some others who never hurt your people but who are still very much Gnomes," said the Queen.

"We are not children anymore, and we are not afraid of them," said the fairy-princes. "If they fight to free our mother, we can fight in their company. We wish to fight."

"If you wish to fight, you must fight in company with your great-uncle and your great-nephews, who will surely know you without feathers and may well know you with," said the Queen.

It took longer for the fairy-princes to answer, this time. But: "We still wish to fight."

#orc bank unforsaken #orc bank #alternate title:#how Radagast came to owe Caraxitari the Goose Queen five favors to be specified #and still considers it worth it

34 notes · View notes