#No. 21 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ashintheairlikesnow · 6 months

Text

For She Was Afraid

CW: Magical whump, nonhuman whumpee, creepy whumper, it used as pronoun for nonhuman whumpee

"You have had this power a year," Atabei hissed as soon as the door to the study closed and the two of them were alone. Her hand around his arm felt like claws digging in to his skin, she had gripped on so tight. "And you have killed two people?"

Gilly swallowed, looking around to avoid having to face Atabei directly. The study had a large wooden desk - Eliza's late husband's apparently, from the old-fashioned design, the masculine weight and size of it. Correspondence scattered across the top, with a few books at one corner, and comfortable chairs on either side.

The walls were lined with bookshelves. There must have been two hundred books in this little room, and this wasn’t even the library.

Being the young widow of a very rich man had its benefits, Gilly supposed, and it seemed Atabei’s lady love had made the most of all of them.

“Guilford!” Atabei snapped her fingers in front of his eyes, making him jump. “I asked you a question!”

"I know! I know, my sincerest apologies-... it’s just, I didn’t kill two people…. Well, I did, but it was only one done with purpose," Gilly admitted, shamefaced, stopping to touch the spine of one particular tome. This shelf held Atabei's books on magic, carefully inconspicuous in a study full of reading material. In golden relief, the title read An Uncertain World: A Treatise on the Toa Volcano and Its Magical Properties as Befits the Pursuit of Certain Sciences. He was nearly asleep from boredom simply finishing the title. "The other was… well, very much so an accident."

Atabei stood with her back to the door, arms crossed. Here at home, her hair hung loose in its thousand braids, a glimmering waterfall of black, and she wore pants much like his own and a loose white shirt.

"An accident?" Atabei huffed an irritated sigh, fixing a glare on him he could feel even without looking up to see it. "I am not as stupid as you must think me to be, Guilford."

"No! No, Beibei, not at all. I'm not lying to you." He went to her, but she did not look at him directly. Her jaw was set with the stubborn distaste he knew so well, but had almost never seen aimed at him. "The ship's captain had a weak heart. When I commanded the siren to make him too afraid to tell what he was, it gave out. I did not mean for him to die."

“And why did the captain discover what the siren was in the first place? Hm?” Her changing accent was heavier here at her home, too, the low drawl more pronounced. Her eyes flickered to his and then away again, but it wasn’t weakness.

Not with Atabei.

“You did not keep him clothed?”

Well, no. He hadn’t. But Gilly didn’t think that was relevant. “He… misunderstood the nature of my connection to the siren. He thought it was a young man, and that…” He trailed off, face burning with embarrassment merely retelling the conversation, the captain’s sly accusations and subtle threats. “Well, the captain thought… he thought…”

Atabei’s voice was desert dry and even less forgiving. “He thought you were fucking him.”

“Beibei!” Gilly’s mouth dropped open in shock. “I’ve never heard you speak so vulgarly!”

“And yet now you have, and I am the same Beibei I was when you first made me flower crowns,” Atabei said, and there was a gentle teasing softening her voice that made him think perhaps she wasn’t truly angry, or not so angry he could not break through it anyway. She took a deep breath. "I can see now. He threatened you, threatened to expose you, and you thought the siren could help wipe his memory clean.”

Atabei didn’t need to know any of that.

“Yes, yes exactly.” Gilly leaped on this lovely lie, so much kinder than the truth. Better than telling her about the captain suggesting he might make good use of such a fine young man with such a lovely face and strong, lithe body. Better the softer lie than the truth of Gilly’s answering negotiation into sitting in the corner and watching it happen. Better than admitting that the captain had been pushing the siren down onto the bed in his quarters when the creature had sung him into fear. Or that Gilly had made sure the ship believed fully that the captain had died in flagrante delicto with a pretty passenger, which the crew had seemed… unsurprised by.

In any case, she swallowed, keeping her eyes on the windows with their heavy drapes on the other side of the room. "Fine. I can understand the accident. And the other?”

“Not an accident. The widow Neumann, who let me the rooms I was staying in?”

“Yes, the sweet little old lady.”

“... right. That one. Well, her death had a purpose. She left me everything, you see. I am… a wealthy man these days. If I had small ambitions, I would have enough to live on in comfort for the rest of my life.”

Atabei’s eyes searched over his face. “You have larger ambitions.”

“I do. This is only how I begin, Beibei. I’ll be a king, or more, before I am done.”

She nodded. There was a distant sadness in her, as if she mourned the gift he had asked of her, that she had given him. “You want that more than anything. I am happy I could help you take the first steps on your path.”

She moved away from him to sit behind the massive desk in a well-loved leather chair, leaning back and putting her feet up, crossed at the ankles. She was so very different here at home, with the coastal breezes fluttering over the drapes. So much more herself, more like how she had been when they were children. “Is there evidence? Can they trace it back to you?”

“No, no.” He waved away her concern, taking his own seat on the other side, wishing he had a glass of liquor in hand, but… Atabei was not one for alcohol here at home, and he knew there would be none unless this mysterious Eliza enjoyed it. “I was with her, but… she signed with her own hand, steady and strong. You couldn’t possibly have said it was forged. I mean, it wasn’t. I watched her sign each and every one.”

“Hm.” Atabei looked a little confused. “And then?”

“Then she drank a glass of strychnine mixed with wine, and died.”

“I didn’t know she had such a fondness for you as all that,” Atabei said, her expression of confusion deepening, although her wry humor was still intact. She even smiled, just a little, as he head tipped back against the back of the chair. “It is a great love one must feel for one’s downstairs tenant to drink deadly poison simply to expedite the tenant's inheritance.”

“Ha! I hated her more than any other soul and I daresay she did nothing but pity me, but it didn’t matter. I brought my sea creature up with me, and had it sing to her. After a while… she began to see things my way. I did her a kindness, really, if you think about it. She would have died in terror eventually, alone in her gigantic house, her little dog chewing on her toes-”

“Guilford, please,” Atabei said, face paling. “Let’s not talk about that.”

“Right. Anyway, this way she had someone she adored with her at the end, and I even gave her little dog to a friend of hers.”

“You hate that dog.” Atabei’s eyebrows raised again. “You used to joke about tossing it into the ocean for the sharks.”

“And you will yourself note that while yes, I did say that, it was a joke. It wasn’t the dog’s fault it was bred and born to drive me absolutely raving mad with its noise and that it had to be the size of a small tea kettle. The stupid thing is living a life of sheer luxury with the widow’s oldest and wealthiest friend, who has a dozen servants on hand at all times and a granddaughter who will no doubt adore the dog’s decidedly ugly smashed-up little face. And the way it breathes…” He shuddered.

“I… all right. Well, that is reassuring.” She tapped her fingernails on the desk, utterly at her ease in here. It must be her study and hers alone, now, if she kept her books on magic in here and felt them secure. “But… wait, Guilford. You said you had the siren sing.” Atabei’s eyes widened. “The siren’s song doesn’t work on women. It is well known. Only men can be fooled by their voices.”

“I know, I know, but it did work on her. And it’s worked on… three other women besides, since then. I’ve tested it.” At Atabei’s thoroughly nonplussed expression, Gilly flushed and hastened to add, “Simply to make them forget they had seen its markings, Beibei! I’m not a monster.”

Besides which, he had the siren itself to slate his lusts on now. Something about the way it still sometimes wept with his hands around its neck or dropped its human glamor to bare rows of sharp teeth without any ability to use them on him did more for his desires than any woman’s softness ever had.

The siren was a creature who should have torn him limb from limb, but Guilford controlled that power, that ferocious rage. It took real effort not to have arousal overtake him just thinking about it.

“Good. I will not aid a man who uses such a power to do harm to women.”

“I am not a man who has any intentions of doing any such thing,” He said, a little soothing, leaning forward. His elbows rested on his thighs. Downstairs, somewhere outside and presumably sitting under a tree or something, the siren began to sing. It was nonsense notes, something trifling, without any power to it.

Guilford had been pleased with it, and given it leave for the occasional making of merry tunes to pass the time, as long as it only cast a spell with its voice when Guilford commanded. He enjoyed seeing its pathetic gratitude at these small mercies, ones he could remove at any time for any reason or even no reason at all.

Sometimes he did, and forced the siren to debase itself all the more in order to earn them back.

Atabei looked over to the window, tensing slightly until she could tell there was no new magic in the air, nothing to try to override her own. Then she sighed and looked back to Gilly, nodding slowly. “Perhaps it works now because it is your will and not his? Since it’s not his magic any longer, only yours, that must go through him. Maybe that’s why… Hm. Fascinating. I will have to read more on this, try to understand…” She trailed off. “One wonders why no one has captured a siren for these purposes before.”

“Who says they haven’t?” Gilly raised his hands in question. Half-hidden by a stack of books that had never been placed back on their shelves back behind Atabei, he saw a small portrait that had been set on the floor, sticking half-out. In it he could see a woman, a man, and a little girl.

“Remember the Verenni king, a few hundred years ago?” Gilly spoke while looking over the portrait, letting his thoughts wander as he considered the family of three. “He came from the Sea Peoples, from nowhere, and it seemed like he took over every land he touched for half a century until he was killed in battle. Maybe he had a siren who sang what he wanted, and someone killed the siren first. It’s possible.”

The man in the portrait was older, hair already silvered, with a prominent beard. The woman clearly decades younger than her husband, and with the solemn look of those who must pose for hours in heavy dresses. The little girl looked very much like her, but for her nose.

“True. But why haven’t we heard of it? It should be in every history book…”

“Unless, of course, the people who come up with how we remember our histories don’t want anyone to know sirens can be so used-”

Outside, the sound of a carriage, and the siren’s song stopped. Atabei all but leapt to her feet in a sudden panic, interrupting Guilford. “Eliza! She won’t know not to talk to him-” She ran for the door and down the stairs, Gilly pushing himself up to follow her.

Atabei darted like a silverfish through clear water - he could hardly have hoped to keep up with her speed. He heard her cry, “Eliza, watch out!”

By the time he made it out the front door, huffing and puffing, Gilly saw quite the tableau.

Atabei, holding the siren’s arm with a grip so tight Gilly knew he would have lovely new bruises to appreciate before he slept tonight, was speaking in a rush to a lovely woman wearing a simple dress and tilted, wide-brimmed hat that kept the sun off her skin, with a little girl standing beside her dressed in the pantaloons and shirt common to the young.

“-was only saying hello,” The woman - who must be Eliza Howe - was saying, affronted. She had the heavy molasses accent of the northern colonies, as if she considered every word before she spoke it. “I can handle a simple polite greeting of a guest, Bei.”

There was a tremor to her voice, though, that suggested she had been relieved Atabei appeared so quickly.

“He is not a simple guest, ‘Liza,” Atabei said in return, her tone apologetic even if her words weren’t. “Remember I told you about Guilford Wentworth, and why I had to go visit him in the islands?”

Eliza turned back to the siren, who was trying subtly to pull himself free of Atabei’s grip, and failing. The monster looked away from her, confused and uncertain. Gilly felt himself think strange, strange thoughts - it has no idea what’s going on. It meant no harm. He shook himself and strode forward, catching up to the little group. The siren cringed away from his very presence, and he ignored the stir of desire that roused in him.

The little girl hid herself behind her mother, peering out with wide eyes.

“This is the thing that Guilford Wentworth captured? This? Bei, this is clearly a man,” Eliza said, and then caught sight of Gilly. Her expression pinched. “Oh, and here is another. Who... is this, then?”

“This is Guilford,” Atabei said, with a smile, gesturing to him. He bowed to Eliza, and she inclined her chin just barely to him. “Guilford Wentworth. Guilford, this is… my wife, Eliza Howe, and her daughter Sirene.”

“Siren,” The creature said, speaking words aloud for the first time. Its had an accent after losing its ocean-tongue, something that sharpened each syllable. Its eyes went to the little girl, who looked at it in something between anxiousness and wonder. Its expression was much the same. “The young are called siren?”

“Sirene,” Eliza corrected, uneasily emphasizing the differences in pronunciation. “It’s her name. She’s a girl, a-a human girl.”

“A girl, yes, this I see,” The siren said, and Guilford blinked. Had it-... used the same wry humor that he and Atabei had always enjoyed, in that sly tone? He would beat it for the pretense later tonight. Beat it black and blue and bloody and begging. “Siren is… human name, then? What I am, siren, is a name given to human girls?”

The monster stepped forward, leaning down to look more closely at the little girl even as Eliza grabbed her arm and held tight.

Its gaze reminded Guilford of his visits to the Royal Zoo, the way sometimes the great apes of the Largest Continent would watch the visitors to the zoo right back, with much the same expressions of awe and delight. Gilly thought about how deeply uncomfortable that sight made him, the bars that separated them from the people only a few feet away. The identical expressions. The reality of the strength and power the bars held in check.

“Sirene,” Eliza repeated, stepping back, her eyes flickering between Atabei, Guilford, and the siren. She looked more nervous and uncomfortable with every passing moment. “It isn’t the same.”

“Oh. I see. Hello, Sirene.” The siren emphasized the name now, too, the same way, although it didn’t seem mocking. More like it had simply decided that this was the way to pronounce the sounds, to mimic Eliza’s humanity. “I am a siren.”

“Hello,” The little girl whispered, without coming out from behind her mother's skirts. “It is very nice to meet you, Mister Siren.”

The siren’s face changed. Gilly realized, with a start, he had never seen it try to smile before. The siren tipped its head to one side. “It is very nice to meet you. Is that what humans say?”

The little girl frowned. “When they are polite it is.”

The siren made a sound - Guilford felt irrational fury when he realized it was gentle laughter, musical and melodic. "Polite is good?"

"Yes." The girl nodded, solemn as the grave. "One should always be polite, Mama says."

The siren's seemingly gentle smile faded slightly. "Mama," It repeated, voice low. "Sirens call ours mama, too."

The girl nodded, as if this made all the sense in the world. Eliza, though, gave Atabei a look of something like panic. "Bei-... What have you done?"

Atabei cut her eyes at Gilly and he cleared his throat, stepping forward, blocking the siren from the little girl's line of sight. “You don’t have to say hello to it, Miss Howe, and it is not a mister. It’s not a person. I know it looks like one, but that’s a silly little trick it plays on people. It’s more like… a dog, maybe.”

The little girl looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed. Her face - and voice - held a faintly hostile accusation he didn’t understand. “I say hello to dogs, too."

“Right. Well. Hm.” Gilly blushed, and wished he could order the siren to sing this whole moment out of existence for them all. It only made him angrier. “Perhaps not the best example…”

Eliza swallowed, stepping back, the girl moving with her in a stumble, slightly surprised. “Ah… Bei-... can you-... he’s very… very close to me, you see-... the sea thing is, I mean… but also your friend..."

“I understand.” Atabei pulled the siren backwards and shook its arm. “Don’t move. Let my wife go inside. Be still, sea creature.”

The siren stood, even without the magical compulsion, and watched as Eliza ushered the little girl away and back down the stone path to the front door of their home. She glanced a few times over her shoulder as she went, waving to the siren. "Goodbye, Mister Siren!"

"Goodbye, Sirene!" The siren called out. Guilford smacked it on the back right over some new marks from the belt he'd used on it last night and it cried out, stumbling before it caught itself.

"Silence!" Gilly hissed, and hit it again. And again. And again-

Atabei caught Gilly's arm in her hand and clicked her tongue against her teeth. “Not here, Guilford. Eliza fears the anger of men. Her late husband was… unkind, when upset. Unkind to her."

“Of course.” Guilford nodded, already breathing hard. He pushed his glasses back up his nose instinctively. “We won’t trouble your beautiful wife with this nonsense. Simply show me where I can put it and it will not be seen by anyone other than you and I."

Atabei found a smile for him, and he smiled back, and for a moment - the two of them out in the grass of a front yard, with a rope swing tied to a large tree branch off to one side and a herd of cows lowing somewhere just beyond sight behind a hill - it felt like they were children again.

Atabei looked over the siren, who didn’t meet her eyes in return, staring down at the ground in the way Gilly had painstakingly taught it to. Her smile faded into a frown. “So, two deaths-"

"One by accident, remember!"

"... and wealth. What comes next? Where do you go after you finish your visit here?"

“Oh, that’s an easy question to answer,” Gilly said, watching as the siren, ignored again, crouched down and stared openly at a line of ants crawling along within the grass. “I’m heading to the northern half of the Largest Continent, back to visit my... mother. Where we will become significantly less estranged, thanks to this thing.” He kicked the siren lightly in the thigh, watching it wince without moving, attention still focused on the insects below it.

“Returning to the line of inheritance,” Atabei said, nodding, crossing her arms before her. “I see. And after she no doubt dies quite a tragic and well-mourned death?”

“Well… then maybe the next time we see each other face-to-face, I won’t be Gilly Wentworth, down on his luck sailor surgeon any longer. I’ll be… King Wentworth, or Emperor…”

“You aim high,” Atabei murmured. “You want to be like the Virenni King, the conqueror. They killed his siren, Guilford, if your theory is true. They killed the power he used and then slaughtered him as well, on his own battlefield, with one blow.”

“Right, well. I’ll be careful.” Gilly reached down, gripping into the siren's curls - he never tired of its soft hair, the way it tensed and shivered every time his fingers moved along its scalp - and pulled. It immediately tipped its head back, knowing the command by instinct without even needing to hear it by now. Its breath caught, and he knew if he touched beneath its jaw its pulse would be fluttering, like a horse about to bolt.

But it couldn’t go anywhere at all.

His mouth felt dry, just thinking about it.

“Your magic worked, it worked so well, Beibei. I can make it do anything I want, make anyone do anything I want, and no one who isn’t under its spell is ever going to know about it.”

"Except me," Atabei murmured, a strange tremulous quality in her deep voice. "Except for me, and mine."

Gilly, for the first time, looked into the eyes of his oldest friend and realized that if he could use the siren's power on women too, then even Atabei was not safe from him, not truly, and she knew it.

Atabei was afraid of him.

Gilly's eyes went back to the siren, who was looking up and watching the wind rustle leaves on a nearby tree. The creature's lips were parted, just a little, as if at any moment the song would begin.

Gilly smiled.

"Let's go inside," He said, smoothly, "And have tea."

Tag list: @grizzlie70 @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @theelvishcowgirl @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @bloodinkandashes @squishablesunbeam @mj-or-say10 @apokolyps @wildfaewhump @shrimpwritings

For @whumptober prompts 19, 21, 22

57 notes · View notes

quietlyimplode · 6 months

Text

the language of flowers and silent things

Whumptober 2023: Day 21 - Vows

Warnings: nil

Word Count: 1k (gif not mine)

Summary: Clint and Natasha try and write their vows

A/N: a short one today. This is a lead up to the endgame, so whilst the surface is quite fluffy, know it’s a lead up. Ty again to everyone who’s been following the story each day, liking and commenting. It makes the whumptober marathon easier. <3

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

No, Clint thinks. I don’t want to.

He’s never been one for displays of emotions and he’s not one to start now.

It feels too vulnerable, even amongst those he knows and loves. Selfishly, he feels those emotions are only for Natasha.

“No,” Clint says, out loud this time.

Natasha shrugs.

“Fine by me,” she agrees.

Pepper groans.

Maria sighs, heavily.

“You’re still going to marry us right?” Natasha asks Maria.

The only one of their friends with a celebrant license, Maria had agreed immediately.

When asked why she had one, she had shrugged, commented about a mission in Arkansas and not elaborated.

“Without vows?” Maria asks, “I just think you should do it. Say something in front of everyone that commits you both.”

Natasha rolls her eyes, the movement exaggerated.

“Yeah, cause that’s what we are known for, deep expressions of emotions in front of each other.”

Pepper looks at both of them. Looking like a disappointed teacher, she peers over her glasses.

“You’ve sorted the venue, and everything else, why not just write something down? You don’t have to share it with us, maybe just with each other. And then what about choosing one line each to say?”

“How long is this going to go for?” Clint asks, looking to the door.

Natasha kicks him under the table.

“I don’t mean this, here, I mean the wedding? Like how long do these things go for?”

Maria smirks, “the way you two have set it? Maybe like twenty minutes in ceremony and the rest as requested will be at the beach.”

Clint nods.

“Twenty minutes? You’re sure?”

Maria holds the papers and goes through the things she has to say, Natasha changing some of the wording for commitments and religion and Clint nods along.

“Now this is the part you say vows, something; anything, to each other.”

Handing them both pen and paper she finds in the desk, Pepper frowns.

“Go write, find a sentence each, talk to each other about it and then come back and tell us. We’ve got everything else sorted, okay?”

Maria calls after them, “it might be the week before Christmas but it’s also the week before your wedding,” she reminds them.

Clint follows Natasha into the elevator.

“This was a bad idea,” he groans.

“We just needed one of them and now, everyone is coming here for Christmas, so we can all go together.”

Natasha agrees silently, in two minds about just how difficult this would be.

She loves her friends, loves that they’re around, but hates the fact they all have opinions on how things should go and how things should be.

The vows, just seemed another tradition that they didn’t want to participate in.

Clint steps out, and grabs her hand.

“Let’s go,” he says, “grab a bag and things you need. We’ll come back for Christmas Eve and to meet with Yelena and Gus when they get here, but let’s go.”

Natasha kisses him, almost runs into the room and grabs a bag.

“Five minutes,” she calls.

He nods, not answering, gathering his phone charger, and a hoodie, stuffing them into a bag.

“Jarvis, if you tell the others, I will give the tower an EMP and make you reboot from the bottom up,” he threatens.

There’s no response.

Ready, Clint finds Natasha with her backpack on, hair in a braid and a grin on her face.

“Let’s go,” she smiles.

Natasha opens the widow, airing the apartment out. Since staying at the tower, her apartment was empty, and despite the amenities and ease of the tower, she feels herself in her own place.

Clint sticks his head out and holds up his phone.

“I’m just ordering Chinese, what do you want?”

Natasha sits on the couch.

“Just some dumplings - the ones I like.”

Clint disappears again and she hears him ordering so much food.

The pencil and paper that Pepper had handed to them taunts her and she picks it up, wandering after Clint.

“Fifteen minutes,” he tells her, setting an alarm on his phone, “then we can get it.”

He sits at the kitchen bench and sees the paper in her hand.

“No,” he whines, “don’t tell me you’re listening to them.”

She shrugs, “I know it’s stupid, but maybe it is a line we need.”

He takes the pen off her.

“Google it,” he laughs.

She laughs too, opening her phone and looking at what the results.

“No…” she groans, “look at this - ‘I never knew that life could be a dream until I met you.’”

He laughs, “it’s true though, right?”

She scrolls further.

“This is stupid.”

Clint passes her the keys for her motor bike.

“Let’s eat and then talk about it?”

She nods.

Her bed is cold, but Clint is warm.

“We didn’t do it,” she mutters, sticking her cold feet into his legs.

He squeals and pushes her.

“Whyyyy? I was warm,” he groans.

“Fine,” he says, “give me one thing you love about me,” he challenges.

She thinks.

“You inspire me to be better,” she says on a whim.

He freezes, hearing the weight of her words.

Natasha feels the tension and her face goes red.

“Your turn,” she mutters.

“You taught me the meaning of brave,” he says quietly.

It’s the truth in their words that fall heavily on each of them.

“I love you,” Clint says, turning to her, “whatever that means to both of us.”

She turns to face him too.

“I love you too.”

“Do we say that in front of our friends?”

He shakes his head.

“I don’t think so,” he replies, “maybe we can just say ‘I do’.”

Natasha nods, “I’ll think of something.”

He kisses her and turns back around.

“Night Nat,” he says quietly, both their thoughts loud.

A large boom wakes them, an aftershock earthquake pulses through the city, and Natasha is immediately on her feet.

“What was that?” Clint asks, alert, his gun in hand next to her.

“The tower,” she says, uncharacteristic fear in her voice, “someone’s blown up the Avenger’s Tower.”

#whumptober2023 #no. 21 #vows #natasha romanoff #clintasha #black widow #clint barton #my fic #hawkeye #natasha romanoff fic #clintasha fanfiction #clintasha fanfic #clint barton x natasha romanoff #Clint barton fic #marvel fic #avengers as a team #avengers fic

49 notes · View notes

judith-orshalimian · 3 months

Text

No. 21 Fall/Winter 2022-23 Details

#fashion #no. 21 #style #fashion show #runway #fashion runway #runway details #dress details #fashion details

32 notes · View notes

rd-eternity · 7 months

Text

As Monroe gets distracted by an outside problem, Theo and Liam make each other a promise that Liam wishes he'll never have to keep. Day 21 Prompts: “See the chains around my feet.” | Vows | Restraints | “Don't move.”

“Reality is a bitch.” The chimera fidgets, pulling up against his bindings again. “We can’t count on your pack to come for you. It’s been too long, they can’t find us. We have to get out ourselves.” Pack. My pack. Our pack. I want- “Promise me that if you see an opening to get out, you’ll take it and leave me behind.” Liam’s breath catches. The ache in his body from the wolfsbane is nothing compared to the numb look in the werecoyote’s cool grey eyes. “You can’t make me leave you.”

#archive of our own #fanfiction #thiam #ao3 fanfic #teenwolf #theo raeken #liam dunbar #whumptober #whumptober2023 #no. 21 #vows #needle tw #fic moodboard

47 notes · View notes

fashionweekhighlights · 2 months

Text

No. 21 AW24 RTW Look 9

Photographer: Daniele Oberrauch

#no. 21 #mfw

13 notes · View notes

rinnytanart · 16 days

Text

Tried out a new coloring pen- and tried getting that edgy shoujo manga feeling for No. 21

Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/rinnytanart

Twitter: https://twitter.com/rinnytanart

#digital art #my art #my artwork #fan art #fanart #patreon #digital artist #patreon art #patreon artist #pgr #punishing gray raven #pgr fanart #pgr no.21 #no. 21

19 notes · View notes

topguncortez · 2 years

Text

Day 21: Famous Last Words ➢prompt: "You're Safe Now" ➢character: Robert "Bob" Floyd ➢warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of heart failure, mentions of child death, hospitals, character death, organ donation ➢word count: 4k (probably the longest fic this month)

|| masterlist || whumptober || whumptober masterlist || library ||

Bob wasn’t sure what he did wrong, or who he pissed off. But somewhere along the lines he must have made God mad enough to always get dealt the shitty cards. Maybe it was when he pushed his little sister into the mud pit when he was eight. Or when he lied about who broke his mom’s favorite vase. Or when he took a sip of alcohol before the legal age. Or maybe it was when he had cheated on his wife and gotten a divorce. Whatever he did, Bob didn’t believe it warranted this type of torture.

The torture of watching your child slowly wither away in front of his eyes, and there being nothing that he could do, but hold her and wipe away her tears. Bob had never hated God so much as in this moment, as he stood outside his daughter’s hospital room and watched as the hospice team did their assessment. His daughter’s favorite nurse, Becky, stayed in the room, watching from the corner, but Bob didn’t have the strength to be in there. To listen as they determined whether or not his child was sick enough to start “comfort” measures. He watched as the doctors told Nurse Becky and she looked up at Bob. She nodded and walked out of the room.

Bob turned around and put his back to the doctors, blocking them from sight. He felt the burning feeling of tears in his eyes as he looked down at the floor. Nurse Becky and his daughter’s doctor, Doctor Paul, stood in front of Bob.

“The hospice team doesn’t think that Lily is bad enough yet to be placed under their care,” Doctor Paul said and Bob scoffed, lifting his head up.

“How bad does she have to get before they’ll admit her? Hours from dying? Minutes?” Bob asked.

“We don’t know. Is your wife coming in?” Nurse Becky asked.

“Yeah,” Bob swallowed, “She’s on her way. She went home to shower.”

The divorce was hard on both of them, but Bob took it harder than Y/N had. Y/N liked to say that she saw this coming from a mile away, that she had felt the distance between her and Bob grow over the years until the rope finally snapped. Bob liked to say he was blindsided by it, but he knew that Y/N drew the line at cheating. She had learned to live with the deployments and months apart but she had told him time and time again that cheating was a dealbreaker. Maybe that’s why God was pissed off, because while Y/N sat in the ER with their daughter, Bob was too busy fucking his pilot.

“Well, once Y/N gets here, we all need to have a meeting,” Doctor Paul said, “There is still a chance that Lily could get a new heart. But if she gets too sick, UNOS won’t give us one,” Bob nodded, “Let me know when she gets here.”

“Will do,” Nurse Becky said and looked back at Bob, “I know this is-”

“Don’t give me that speech,” Bob said looking at her. He turned around and looked back at his sleeping daughter. He sighed, before heading back into the room to be with Lily. Bob gently climbed into bed with her, and held her in his arms. He clenched his eyes shut tightly and tried to stop the soft cries leaving his pink lips. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No one was supposed to prepare to bury a child before they had even seen the world.

When Y/N arrived at the hospital, slightly out of breath from running around with her other two kids, she stopped in front of the window of Lily’s room. Her heart broke at the sight of her ex-husband and her daughter cuddled on the small hospital bed together. Bob laid on his back his left hand tucked behind his head, his right arm around Lily, who had her head pressed to his chest.

She had just gotten word from Doctor Paul about Lily’s current condition and how they were waiting on UNOS to make a decision. It wasn’t every day that hearts for eleven year old children came around. Y/N thought it was so barbaric and sad to think about. That even if her daughter did get a heart, if she did get another chance at life, another child was somewhere dying. That another set of parents were going through the same pain they are..

“You should go in there,” Nurse Becky said, appearing behind her. Y/N jumped slightly, “You two need time together.”

“I hate him,” Y/N sneered, “He broke my heart.”

“And your child’s heart is failing,” Nurse Becky said. Y/N felt tears running down her cheeks looking at the sick little girl curled up with her father, “You don’t want your little girl leaving this world knowing that her parents are at odds. It won’t bring her comfort.”

“I can’t forgive him for what he did,” Y/N said looking down at her shoes, “I tried to. With moving on, getting remarried, getting a damn dog. When I finally thought I was moving on, Lily was getting better and then. . . Lily gets worse and I have to see the man who broke me, every single day. I loved him, with every single fiber of my being. . . and he used that against me.”

Nurse Becky sighed and grabbed Y/N’s hand, “I know what he did hurts, but it was nearly five years ago. And like you said, you started over, you moved on, you healed. You don’t want your last memories of your life with Bob and Lily being fueled by anger,” Y/N bit her lip and looked down at her shoes, “Listen, Lily is stable, she’s comfortable. My whole staff has their eyes on her. You and Bob go get out of here for a while, eat something other than what gets boiled in a pot,” Y/N laughed and Nurse Becky smiled at her, “If something happens, I will call you both right away.”

“Even if her oxygen stat drops a single point, we get called,” Y/N said.

“Of course,” Nurse Becky said, and gently pushed Y/N to the door.

Y/N took a deep breath before opening the door and going inside. Bob stirred and looked up to see his ex-wife walking in, but Lily didn’t move. Most days her body was too weak to even keep herself awake, and with the current medical cocktail her doctors had her on, it kept her asleep so her heart could rest. Y/N gave Bob a tight-lipped smile and sat down next to his side of the bed. They sat in silence for a moment before Bob spoke up.

“Nurse Becky give you the same speech?”

“Yeah. . .” Y/N sighed and sat back in her chair, “I think she’s right though. We spend all of our time here, or running back and forth from here.”

“Wouldn’t you rather be at home with your husband?”

“He’s not. . . I can’t be around him and his optimism,” She said honestly, “I love him, but he’s driving me damn near insane with all his praying and chanting and whatever other bullshit he’s doing.”

Bob looked down at his daughter. He found some comfort in the fact that she thought God was blaming her too by making Lily sick. He licked his lips before gently moving from beneath Lily’s fragile body. Y/N stood up from her chair and gently packed pillows around Lily’s body as if one of them were still there.

“I’ll lay with her,” Nurse Becky said walking into the room, “My babies are with their dad for the week. I need my snuggle fix.”

Nurse Becky had slowly become Y/N and Bob’s favorite person. She told them everything and didn’t sugarcoat it like most of the doctors on Lily’s team had. Nurse Becky had been both a nurse to Lily and a therapist to Bob and Y/N. She had worked in peds long enough to see lots of parents like Bob and Y/N go through the same heartbreaking thing. It never got easier, but if she could make their time here more comfortable, she would do anything.

Bob and Y/N both gave Lily a kiss on the forehead before reluctantly heading out the door. They walked in silence down the hallway of the peds floor, being mocked by all the bright walls and pictures. Bob could never understand why the most dreadful places had such bright colors. He had to refrain from grabbing her hand as they walked towards their cars parked by each other. They decided to drive separately. Bob hated it, he hated every moment of this.

“Is uh. . . are you okay with going to my place? I don’t really feel like being-”

“Drinks at your place is okay,” Y/N answered.

When Lily had gotten worse, Bob had gotten an apartment not far from the hospital. Y/N thought it was slightly ridiculous at first, but was now grateful for him being so close. He parked in the lot and they quietly walked up the stairs to Bob’s floor. He unlocked the door and let her in. His place was simple, just the way he had decorated their once shared house. Y/N’s eyes landed on the various pictures of Bob, Lily and herself that were scattered around the living room. Bob kicked his shoes off and walked towards the kitchen.

“All I have is bourbon, that's okay?” Bob asked.

“More than okay,” Bob smiled at her, and grabbed two glasses. She sat on the barstools at his counter, and took the glass from him. Bob held his up and she nodded, before taking a sip. She scrunched her eyes at the burn of the alcohol going down her throat. She couldn’t remember the last time she had anything stronger than a glass of wine.

They both sat in awkward silence for a moment, trying to find something to talk about other than their personal lives and their sick daughter, but that seemed to be the only topics on either of their minds. Y/N couldn’t care less about if Bob was with Phoenix or not, and Bob didn’t want to hear about her new life with her husband, but they were two nosy people and wanted to know.

“Are you with her?” Y/N asked, against her better judgment.

“No,” Bob said and took another sip of his drink, “We, uh. . . we tried, but it just didn’t,” Bob waited a beat to get his thoughts in order before speaking up again, “It didn’t work out. We are too good of friends to be in a relationship. I think what happened was just a moment of weakness.”

“Moment of weakness? Is that what we call screwing your wife’s best friend while your daughter is flat lining in the ER?”

“Y/N-”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said, her voice cracking. Bob felt his heart break at the sight in front of him. She tried to be strong, Bob had yet to see her shed a tear through this whole ordeal, but now she was breaking down in front of him and Bob didn’t know what to do, “God, why does this keep happening to me. First you and now Johnathan-”

“Johnathan?” Bob asked at the mention of her husband, “What’s going on with you and Johnathan?”

“He wants a divorce,” Y/N said, “I’m ‘not there enough’ for him. How fucked up is that to say to someone who’s child is actively dying and there’s-”

Bob moved quickly and hugged her tightly. She sobbed into his chest as he held her in his strong arms. It was times like these where Bob was reminded of how much Lily was like her mother. Her arms tightened around his midsection and grabbed onto his shirt, much like Lily did whenever they had to give her a shot or insert an IV. Bob placed his chin on top of her head and rubbed her back to try and soothe her. Y/N pulled back from Bob, and he held her face in his hands. He wiped a tear away from her cheek with his thumb.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you,” Bob said, “I never, ever wanted to hurt you.”

“But you did,” Y/N sniffled out.

“And I’ll spend every single day of my life telling you how sorry I am. You don’t deserve this Y/N,” Bob said, and Y/N looked up at his blue eyes. Those same blue eyes that had her falling for him all those years ago. Her body moved quicker than her brain did and she leaned up to kiss him. Bob was taken aback for a second and froze. Sensing his body language Y/N pulled back from him.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said and pushed away from Bob. She moved quickly, grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

“Y/N, wait,” Bob said and grabbed her wrist.

“No, I shouldn’t have done that. I’m still-”

“I love you,” Bob said, cutting her off. Y/N gasped and shook her head, “I have never stopped loving you. What I did. . . was stupid. The dumbest thing I have ever done in my life and I’ll spend the whole eternity trying to apologize for it. I blame myself for what’s going on with Lily. She got my shitty genes and this is my-”

It was Y/N cutting off Bob this time, kissing him again, and Bob didn’t freeze as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in close. Her hands tangled in his long locks; he hadn’t bothered to cut his hair since getting time off to be with Lily. The kiss was feverish as his hands roamed her body, trying to remember all the planes of her body that he once had memorized. Bob pulled back from the kiss and grabbed her hand, pulling her down to the bedroom. Y/N bit her lip as she intertwined their fingers.

Bob slowly undressed her, taking his time to admire her and love her. She never felt self-conscious around Bob, even now after it has been years since they had seen each other bare. Bob made her feel comfortable as he laid her down gently on the bed, and left warm, wet kisses on her body. Bob had missed the sounds that left her pink lips as he thrusted into her, groaning at the feeling of her warm walls. Y/N’s eyes rolled back and her nails dug into Bob’s back at the feeling of pure bliss in her body. It had been so long since either of them felt anything but pain and grief, that they wanted to freeze this moment forever.

— — —

A groan left Y/N’s lips as her eyes fluttered open at the bright sun that's shining through the bedroom. It took her a second to realize that she was not only not in the hospital, but not in her own bedroom either. She sat up with a gasp and looked around at the pristine white bedroom, her eyes landing on the familiar family picture on the dresser, with a note taped to it. Holding on to the sheet wrapped around her body, she stood up from the bed and grabbed the note.

“Went to the hospital. Left you coffee and a muffin. -Love B”

Y/N bit her lip as the memories of what happened last night flooded her mind. But they only lasted for a split second before guilt then flooded her body. The realization that she did the one thing she never wanted to do. The one thing that she swore she was better than. She drove home in silence, her mind and heart conflicted.

As Y/N sat at a stop light, she thought back on all the moments in her life where she questioned things. She questioned how you knew someone was the right one for her. She even questioned how she didn’t notice her daughter getting sicker and sicker. But there was one thing she had never questioned before, and that was that she loved Bob Floyd more than anything in the world.

— — —

“Dammit,” A doctor said, as the long-sounding note on the monitor rang out again. He could feel the cracked ribs as he performed CPR on the patient, “Check her pupils.”

“Fixed and dilated,” Another doctor said, “She’s brain dead.”

“Dammit!” The first doctor yelled. He looked at the once healthy female who was now brain dead on the ER table. He knew from the head injury that she probably wasn’t going to survive whatever else was going on. He waited a moment before looking at one of the nurses, “What’s her blood type?”

“B negative.”

“That’s a match. . . Check for a donor card!”

— — —

Bob was half asleep in the chair next to Lily’s bed, watching the shallow rise and fall of her chest when he heard a loud commotion. He lifted his head up slightly to see a bunch of doctors and nurses running around. He had been here long enough to know that it was probably because there was an emergency downstairs. Bob glanced down at his phone, expecting to get a text from Y/N by now at least letting him know she was up.

“Bob!” Nurse Becky exclaimed as she barged through the door, “We have a heart!”

“What?” Bob said standing up from his seat, “A-a heart? For Lily?”

“Yes! We have a heart! We need to start the pre-op prep but if you give-”

“Yes! Yes! Give her the heart!” Bob cried and Nurse Becky squealed as she hugged Bob tightly, before running back down the hall to get the prep team to start working on Lily. Bob felt tears in his eyes as he grabbed his phone and called Y/N.

“Hey this is Y/N, sorry I missed your call, please leave a message.”

Bob frowned but left a message anyway and moved out into the hallway as doctors and nurses came in to prep Lily for surgery. He couldn’t help but smile. His little girl was going to get a second chance at life.

— — —

Bob was beginning to pace outside of Lily’s room as he called Y/N for what seemed like the ten thousandth time, still getting her voicemail. His worry was starting to fade into anger and he was starting to think that maybe she was ignoring him. One of Lily’s doctors, Doctor Shaun said that Lily was prepped and ready as soon as they got the okay from the transplant team.

“I don’t know what the fuck you are doing but you need to get here, now,” Bob cursed and hung up the phone again. He was about to dial Y/N’s number again when he heard his name being called.

“Mr. Floyd, we need to talk to you,” Doctor Paul said to him. Bob furrowed his eyebrows and looked back at Lily, who was somewhat awake and talking to Nurse Becky.

“What’s going on? Is it the heart? Is there something wrong with the-”

“It’s your ex-wife, Bob,” Doctor Paul said.

“My w-wife?”

— — —

Bob thought he was in a dream as he stood outside his wife’s hospital room, looking at her body that was covered in bruises. He could see a large wound on her head, the wound that was probably what killed her. Bob listened as Doctor Paul explained what had happened. Y/N was driving home when a driver ran a red light and hit her. They did what they could to bring her back, but there was nothing that they could do. Her brain wasn’t working. The brain that Bob had always admired. Y/N was smart and witty, and could rattle off a fact about anything and everything at the snap of a fingers. The brain that housed so many vibrant and bright ideas that Bob couldn’t help but shake his head and laugh at, but would help her follow through on them.

Bob sat by her side, holding her hand, which surprisingly felt warm still. Doctor Paul explained that the ventilator that she was on was keeping her alive, keeping her breathing, keeping her heart beating. But the second they pulled the tubes out of her body, her heart would stop. Bob wondered if God had any more cruel twists of fate to throw at him. It was supposed to be the happiest moment of his life, but instead, he was holding his dead wife’s hand, while his daughter was about to receive a new heart.

“Mr. Floyd,” Doctor Paul called out, walking into the room.

“Is Lily okay? D-do I tell her before surgery or-”

“Actually. . . it’s about Lily’s surgery.”

“What?” Bob asked, his blue eyes lighting up in a panic, “Is something wrong? Is she okay? Is there something wrong with the heart?”

“No, Bob,” Doctor Paul said. His mind was swimming on trying to decide how to proceed, “Your wife and daughter have the same blood type,” Bob nodded, “Your wife was very healthy, lived a low stress life, didn’t drink, ate well, exercised-”

“What are you trying to say?”

“Your wife is a donor.”

“No-”

“Her heart could to Lily-”

“No!” Bob screamed. He looked at his wife and laid his head on her arm, sobbing. Doctor Paul bit his lip and tried to stop his own tears as he listened to Bob’s cries, “Wake up, please, wake up. I can’t do this.”

“Mr. Floyd, Lily can’t live much longer without a new heart. We don’t know how long it’ll take to get another one. Your wife is a perfect match for her,” Doctor Paul said.

Bob looked up at his wife’s peaceful face. While it had once been clear, it was now littered with tiny cuts probably from the windshield breaking. He knew that she would do anything she could to save Lily. She was selfless like that. Y/N would take a bullet for anyone and everyone if it meant saving a life, especially her daughter’s life. Bob gripped her hand tightly and brought it to his lips.

— — —

Bob sat in the waiting room for nearly eight hours as he grappled with his thoughts. He was still trying to figure out if he made the right choice, but how does one decide in that moment what the right choice is. He looked down at his hands, picking at his calluses. The last time he was sitting in this room, his wife was sitting next to him, holding his hand as they waited for any update on their daughter. Now, it was just him by himself, waiting.

He felt guilty as he sat there, feeling his heart beating in his chest. It wasn’t far that he got to sit there, unharmed, unscathed and healthy. Bob had done horrible things that should’ve resulted in him getting the shitty end of the deal, but somehow God decided to punish the two people who didn’t deserve it.

A nurse had called his name and took him up to the cardiac floor. He was happy to not see the brightly painted walls and stupid posters that were plastered around the pediatric floor. Bob sucked in a deep breath as he sat down next to her bedside, and grabbed her hand. The nurse explained that it would be a while until she woke up. Bob’s blue eyes never left her frame as he waited for that moment. Waiting to see if he made the right decision. But was there ever a right decision in choosing to end someone’s life to save another?

It took about an hour for her eyes to start slowly fluttering open. She took in the sight around her, blinking rapidly at the bright light. Bob sucked in a deep breath and gave her hand a squeeze.

“Daddy?” Lily croaked out. Bob felt a heavy, yet light feeling in his body as he looked down at his little girl. Her blue eyes looked up at him. He felt tears run down his cheeks.

“Hi, baby. You’re safe now.”

#top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine #Bob floyd #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #whumptober #no. 21 #you're safe now

232 notes · View notes