#SO in a way he shouldn't even be surprised that in a world of kings and rules they want to get rid of him?

[yoyomomiko]

Hi Miko, I've been reading your one piece posts and absolutely love how you write the characters! I loved your oblivious reader headcanons, but I wanted to request kind of the opposite - how would Luffy, Sanji and Zoro react to a reader that makes the first move and kisses them first? Thank you 🥰💕

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): hiiii!! i'm very sorry for not posting, I've got a lot of requests and i hope I'll get to write them all ^⁠_⁠^ also, I SWEAR I don't have a favourite (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy is so straight forward that a lot of flirting just goes right over his head. You could be batting your eyelashes, throwing hints, or playfully touching his arm, and he'd just grin at you, not having a second thought.

He's naturally touchy with his crew, so when you start getting more physically affectionate, he just kinda rolls with it. Leaning on him? He'll lean right back. Holding his hand? He'll swing it playfully.

The realization hits... Late. You make a habit of teasing him, leaning in close when you talk, poking his face when he pouts, and even calling him cute. After a lot of punches from Nami and disappointed sighs from Usopp, he tilts his head and just goes "Are you flirting with me?"

Luffy starts leaning in close, just to see if you'll back away, and he literally COPIES your every move.

"Does this make your heart race too?" In the most innocent way possible.

You think he's immune to embarrassment, until you pull a bold move and trace his jaw with your fingers. "I bet you'd taste sweet." He actually pauses, eyes wide, and a faint pink tint covering the tip of his ears.

When you finally go in for the kiss, you catch him mid laugh. His eyes widen, and probably for the first time ever, he's speechless. Luffy, the king of energy, is frozen like a statue.

His hand almost instinctively catches your waist, holding you close. You pull back, watching his expression shift from shock, to realization, to a big, goofy grin.

"Do it again!" He doesn't even hesitate before grabbing your face and closing the distance again, kissing you back. Zero hesitation.

After this, he just kisses you whenever he feels like it. Mid conversation? Smooch. Stealing food? Smooch. Looking at him funny? Smooch.

He literally tells the whole crew. No warning, no build up. Just a proud declaration while you stand there, face buried in your hands.

You belong to his crew, but now you're his in a way that makes him extra protective. He wraps his arms around you randomly, pulling you close, his stupid, big grin plastered on his face.

He starts challenging you to kiss attacks. If you surprise him, you win. If he catches you trying, he flips it on you.

Luffy doesn't get embarrassed easily, but he does get attached. Expect him to be glued to your side, smiling like you're the best treasure in the world.

There's no overthinking with Luffy, he just likes being with you, loves that your bold, and will 100% support more surprise kisses in the future.

———☆

You're sitting on the deck with Luffy, sharing a plate of snacks, when you decide you've had enough of his cluelessness. He's laughing about something, something dumb, something that shouldn't make your heart race.

So, without a second thought you lean in and close the distance, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. It's quick, but it's just enough to make Luffy's breath hitch and heartbeat increase.

Luffy blinks at you, his usual bright eyes wide in surprise. He's touching his lips like he's processing the sensation for the first time. Then, slowly, a huge grin spreads across his face.

"Whoa!" He lets out a shaky exhale, and then he grabs your hands, bouncing excitedly. "Do it again!"

"Maybe later." You laugh, shaking your head. He was getting so excited over a simple kiss, and you couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat at the way his touch felt on your skin.

"Later?! But I wanna do it now!" He doesn't wait, just leans in and captures your lips in another quick, excited kiss. Now, you're the one blushing.

— ZORO

Flirting with Zoro is like flirting with a wall, at least at first. He doesn't react to subtle touches, teasing smirks or even playful winks. He just raises an eyebrow like, What are you doing?

"You're acting weird." You lean in, fingers trailing over his wrist as he tenses, although not pulling away. "I'm just being friendly." "That doesn't feel friendly..."

The moment he does realize you're flirting with him, he goes completely still. His grip on his swords tighten. He legit looks like he just got challenged to a duel.

"Tch, like I care." But then he starts noticing everything. The way you look at him, the way your hand when you pass him something, the way you bite your lip when you tease him.

Zoro acts all cool, but inside? His heart is beating faster, and he doesn't know why. Literally internal panic.

One day, you brush your fingers along his jaw. "I bet you'd look good, all flustered and blushing." He visibly stiffens, eyes darting away. "Shut up." Oh, so he can get flustered.

You finally go for it, grabbing his collar and closing the gap, pulling him in for a kiss. He doesn't react at first, he's too shocked to move a muscle. Then, his hands grip your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

He's not as unaffected as he pretends to be. He exhales slowly, his breathing controlled. But you can feel the slight shake in it, the way his hands tremble slightly and the way his muscles tense.

Zoro pretends it's no big deal, but later, he tilts your chin up and kisses you again. Slower, deeper, like he's trying to memorize the feeling of your lips on his.

He's not big on PDA, but his protective streak triples. Arm around your waist? Always. Pulling you close when someone stares too long? Every time.

He doesn't say sweet things, but his actions scream it.

He still gets caught off guard when you tease him. A kiss on the cheek, and his ears turn red. Whispering something flirty, and his jaw tightens.

Zoro likes a challenge, and now that he's aware of you, he starts fighting back. He corners you and smirks if you get flustered.

He will DIE before admitting how much he likes it.

———☆

Zoro is training, sweat glistening on his skin, swords balanced in a way that makes him look damn near untouchable. You've been teasing him all day, dropping little hints, getting close... But he's been brushing you off, pretending it has no effect on him. Until now.

You walk up to him casually, hiding your smug smirk, standing just close enough for him to feel your presence. "Bet I could throw you off balance."

"Tch, you wish." He fights the urge to roll his eyes, the way his words came out was almost as if he was daring you to try.

Your smirk widens as you step closer to him. Before he could react, you grip his collar, tug him down, lips colliding into each other as you press a confident kiss on his lips.

He freezes. His whole body tenses like he's been struck by lightning. When you pull away, his breath is heavier, and there's a slight pink tint decorating his cheeks.

He glares at you, the grip on his swords tightening. "That was dirty..." He mutters, still trying to calm himself down.

You tilt your head to the side, still smirking. "Did it work?" You taunt him, trying to hold back your laugh, watching his flustered expression carefully.

Zoro exhales slowly, before grabbing your wrist, yanking you back in for another kiss. His lips crashed against yours, and you could feel his smirk pressing against your mouth. This one's deeper, hungrier. When he finally pulls back, a smirk forms on his lips.

"Yeah. It worked."

— SANJI

Sanji flirts with everyone, but when you do it back? He's done for. He's absolutely weak from the start. He nearly drops his cigarette every time you touch him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?" And he instantly covers his mouth, trying to hide his nosebleed and the way his face turns 50 different shades of red. He short circuits instantly.

He flirts dramatically, and you flirt right back, leaning in close, tracing his jaw, calling him pet names. His whole face BURNS.

You catch him off guard with a soft touch to his cheek, and his whole face erupts in pink. "M-Mademoiselle!"

When you finally kiss him first, his soul leaves his body. His cigarette falls, his legs turn weak, and he grips onto you for dear life.

The moment your lips touch his, Sanji's entire body locks up. His heart is hammering, and his mind is screaming in ten different languages. His brain kinda goes offline for a few seconds, but he'll snap out of it eventually!!

He covers his face with both hands, trying to suppress the absolutely ridiculous grin forming. "Mon Dieu! You're too much for me..." And his legs wobble like he might pass out.

His hands remain on your waist, but he doesn't pull you in, not yet. He wants to play it cool, but his flushed face and trembling hands give it away.

For the next hour, he is completely useless in the kitchen. He keeps chopping ingredients wrong, spacing out and giggling like an absolute fool. When someone asks what's wrong, his only reply is "I've been blessed by an angel today."

After the kiss, he becomes extra aware of your presence. A simple brush of your fingers sends a shiver down his spine. If you just lean against him, he has to take deep breaths.

The next time you tease him, he gets his revenge, tilting your chin up with his fingers and giving you the slowest, most knee weakening kiss of your life. "Two can play this game, mon amour."

Before, he was a hopeless romantic. Now? He's a hopelessly attached romantic. "Oh, you like me?" You tease, and you see the way his lips curl into a smirk. "Like? Darling, I adore you."

He was already treating you like royalty, but now it's way worse. Pulling out your chair, offering you the best cuts off food, whispering sweet nothings into your ear 24/7. It's endless.

You kiss him unexpectedly? He still gets heart eyes, but now he pulls you right back for another. "Don't start something you're not ready to finish, darling."

Completely, utterly, shamelessly yours. Sanji doesn't even try to hide it, he's absolutely whipped. He lets everyone know, the whole crew has to deal with it.

———☆

Sanji is flirting with you as usual, leaning close and murmuring sweet things. "Ah, ma chérie, if you keep looking at me like that, I might fall apart."

You rolled your eyes, a mischievous smirk forming on your lips. You grabbed his tie, fingers twisting in the fabric, yanking him down with a sudden tug. He stumbled slightly, cut off guard, but there was no time to react. Your lips crashed against his, the space between you vanishing as you pressed your body flush against his, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. His breath hitched as his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you even closer.

Your lips parted just enough to tease, to taste. Your fingers slid up from his tie to tangle in his hair, nails grazing his scalp as you pulled him in, not letting go.

You finally parted from him, just barely, lips still hovering close and over each other. He's completely frozen. Mouth slightly open, cigarette hanging dangerously close to falling, his eyes wide in surprise, face completely red.

His whole body shakes, and he nearly collapses on the floor. "I can die happy!" He shouts out dramatically, both hands pressed firmly on his chest as he struggles to breathe.

Later, when he finally recovers, he pulls you aside, trapping you against the wall, kissing you so deep it leaves you breathless.

"Not so easy when I'm the one taking control, hm, mon amour?"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[shcdevl]

I could be wrong but I felt like it was meant to symbolize Siegfried in a way? Like, a creature that is rare and special and could be seen as a sign of the gods or something similar. But it still doesn't have a place in the world of kings and men (where everything is ordinary) unless they "own" it, so it is killed?

Can we talk about the elephant in the room?

The white deer.

I love the stylistic choice of putting a *white* deer in this hunting scene. The movie surely wasn’t perfect, but it added to the tension

[yanderes-galore]

How would yandere Ace from OP get rid of his rivals ? 

ACE! I love Ace sm, ngl....

Yandere! Portgas D. Ace getting rid of rivals

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Violence, Burning/Burning others alive, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Murder, Possessive behavior, Stalking, Blood, Dubious relationship.

While Ace is similar to his brother Luffy, He's more mature.

He's still impulsive but way less oblivious.

He's intelligent and polite... yet can still be reckless and impulsive.

He's like a... more controlled Luffy?

He's oblivious occasionally, like when he acts too clingy or perverted.

Yet he's aware of his own jealousy.

He knows why he's on edge with others around you.

Ace no doubt has a better understanding of romantic attraction than Luffy.

Inexperienced... But he understands what feelings you stir within him when he sees you.

He knows you're an addiction, one he watches every single move of.

He's strong, charming, and a loyal fighter.

Although... He has a temper like Luffy.

He has a tendency to get into fights.

He doesn't want those close to him hurt and is easily set off by it.

Ace would originally try to rein in how he feels.

It shouldn't be his business... You deserve better and should talk to others.

Meanwhile he's over here being clingy or watching you from afar.

Although... Ace is capable of being terrifying when jealous.

Sure, with you it seems cute.

He plays it off as being petty pouting to try and get you to pay attention.

It works more than you think.

To others?

He's the devil.

Due to his parentage, many already see him as the spawn of the devil.

It's no surprise with his Devil Fruit powers that he looks like a demon.

It's small at first.

Ace is the type to insert himself into conversations.

He always seems to be watching over you like some twisted guardian.

When he feels he doesn't like the person you're talking with, he slips in.

He wraps his arms around your waist, leaning his head either on your shoulder or head.

He grins at the other person, yet his gaze isn't welcoming.

It's threatening... Ironically cold.

Ace is someone who can seem subtle with threats.

He's grinning with barely restrained irritation, seeming all happy with the other person.

They have to leave at some point, right?

Although eventually he's going to try and push them away, annoyed they're with you.

Ace, while easy to provoke, tries not to harm someone when you're in sight... Much.

But if someone was flirting, too close, threatening, etc...

It's enough to set Ace off.

Ace, like Luffy, is brutal.

He can be blinded with rage.

What makes him worse than Luffy?

The fire.

Jealousy and rage course through Ace's flames.

If you're in sight and some poor fool sets him off, at least you can stop him from searing them.

He gets to the point of his fists covered in blood before you stop him.

When you notice his skin heating and beginning flames licking across it...

You get his attention, sparing the person.

They've no doubt learned their lesson.

Other times... They aren't so lucky.

Other times, Ace is destructive.

He's used to being in the shadow of others, to being treated as unwanted.

We've seen him destroy whole ships with his power.

One measly person?

A rival?

Someone who hurt the one who saw him as something other than the Pirate King's son?

Ashes.

Ace doesn't even really feel bad about it, viewing said people as scum.

He isn't much better... but he views it as sparing you from the worst people of the world.

Ace wouldn't mind punching someone's lights out... watching as his flames consume them like kindling.

They should've known better in his mind.

Ace is infamous and pirates have to kill at some point.

Removing a challenge in his way is no issue.

Especially a nuisance in your life.

No one can touch you with him around.

He gives warnings and subtle threats to others before he does anything rash.

It's their choice if they continue in his mind.

Their punishment is becoming a fine ash to be whisked away by a strong gust of wind.

Afterwards, Ace acts like nothing happened.

He could probably burn someone and their life out of existence...

Then come back to you with a smile, nuzzling into your hair with a relaxed exhale.

It feels pleasurable knowing you're only his.

He simply goes back to clinging and watching over you.

You give him purpose... He needs you...

Yet the moment he sees a new threat to the obsession he has over you...

The process repeats all over again, with little regret if it means he has you.

[somepsychopomp]

More omega!Odysseus & alpha!Penelope thoughts

Continuation of my omegaverse ideas (found here)

Also while nothing explicit happens there's a little spice down the line.

Odysseus and Penelope definitely had their first serious argument before they were even married. While still courting/betrothed, it turns into a huge fight over who's going to be bearing the children once they're wedded and mated.

Not that Odysseus thinks his wife should be doing it, but that he should be the sole bearer with no exceptions! And the problem is that Penelope insists on the exact opposite...

Penelope was raised as a woman in Sparta so no matter her secondary gender, she was going to be taught to be tough. Her being an alpha just so happened to give her all sorts of special privileges and respect when she saw with her own eyes the many ways omegas were disregarded and looked down upon. (And let's say that Sparta has a famously low population of omegas because they view them as too weak to survive & just don't choose to keep most omega babies)

So growing up in that environment, when Penelope finds the omega she wants to spend the rest of her life with, the omega who's as precious to her as all the jewels in the world and as beautiful as the stars in the sky, there's no fucking way she's going to treat Odysseus as a slave or pet. She's going to defy Sparta's crusty traditions by carrying their children, even as an alpha. She doesn't care if it's "emasculating" (or like, the equivalent of emasculating for alphas).

Penelope loves her soon-to-be husband and will not make him carry her children or be treated as if that's all he's good for.

In contrast, Odysseus grew up in a culture with more omegas where he wasn't as much of an oddity. Yes, it's still a bit strange for the crown prince to be an omega, but he's more than proven his worth through his intelligence, cunning, and his surprising degree of physical strength for an omega (thanks to him being a prince, he was taught to hunt. And thanks to Athena, he was taught to fight).

As he grew up, Odysseus rejected alpha after alpha, suitor after suitor, not at all appreciating the ways they tended to underestimate or belittle him, until he met a particular Spartan princess. He becomes convinced that they were made for each other. There was no feat of strength that the other could not match, for each was a skilled athlete. There was no riddle one could propose that the other could not answer in time. The one way they differed was when it came to strings; Penelope was a fabulously talented weaver while Odysseus was a masterful archer.

(At first, Penelope tried to court Ody with a newly woven cloak and he attempted to impress her by doing cool trick shots- basically trying to stifle their secondary genders by doing what "typical" men and women did to court each other. Then they figure out the other is down bad and they stop trying to hide their true selves.)

And by the gods, Odysseus was going to make Penelope his and he was going to treat her right. And that includes giving her strong, healthy children.

The fact that childbearing was a dangerous and oftentimes deadly event was no secret to either of them. As Ithaca's future king, he would gladly protect his wife from such danger by having their children himself.

Which, Penelope points out, is exactly why he shouldn't be the carrier at all! His people need him- he cannot risk his life for something so unnecessary when his future wife & alpha is more than willing to take that risk.

Aha! Odysseus says, already having his retort ready. Is Penelope insisting that he, an omega, is not fit enough to take up such dangerous work? That he is weak?

Oh, Penelope says, rising to his challenge. Then is Odysseus content to enforce his will over her as a man? Will he deny her her own freedom by refusing to grant her the opportunity to carry their children?

(AKA they basically invent a super weird field of gender politics and keep trying to one-up the other and twist their words around)

Their whole debate goes on for weeks or even months on end, with the core of their argument being, "I love you, I want to be your mate, and I will not let you suffer needless pain if I can take it in your stead."

But they can't keep debating forever when both their parents want to see them married sooner rather than never.

They have their wedding on Ithaca when Odysseus' next heat draws near, just to increase the chances of successful consummation. And let's just say that while the wedding itself goes by smoothly, their wedding bed basically sees war as these two have some of the craziest, nastiest, most confusing sex ever as Odysseus desperately wants to bottom and Penelope really, really wants to top the banging hot omega begging her for it. But at the same time, Penelope keeps trying to ignore her instincts and coax him into topping and it happens to feel really strange but really good for them both but also Ody desperately wants to be the one to conceive–

By the time Odysseus' heat is over, they honestly have no idea who's gotten who knocked up. And hey, wouldn't it be hilarious if they happened to get each other pregnant?

Thankfully, or not, they get their answer soon enough. Penelope waits and prays for the telltale signs of pregnancy to kick in- the fatigue, hunger, morning sickness, etc...

Only to wake up to the sound of her beloved Odysseus dry heaving over the side of the bed. A little visit from the palace healers confirms it.

He won.

Penelope wishes she could sulk or complain, and for like 2 whole seconds, she contemplates telling the healers to mix an abortifacient right there and then because she's not thinking about the baby. She's thinking about her omega's future health/safety, but she takes one look at Odysseus' face and his tears of joy & she simply can't deny the fact that her inner alpha is jumping up and down, elated to know that her mate is with child.

"Don't be so disappointed, my beloved." Odysseus says, laughing as she holds him in her arms and kisses his hair, eyes, lips, nose, and wherever else she can reach, "Why don't you take the honor of naming them?"

Her?

Penelope is shocked. She will not have her omega go through the pains and difficulties of birth just to refuse him the right to name his own child!

And thus, a whole new debate begins.

[astraymetronome]

i would looooove to see you write that scene you mentioned of naga tommy losing control and nomming everyone, where they don't know its safe (and even those who do are worried hes going to move them into his second stomach)

Alright Chat- it's been a... hot minute since I last posted anything to Tumblr of my actual writing. It's long overdue, but here we are! Time to answer an ask that's been collecting dust in my inbox for almost a year.

maybe over a year at this point, i'm too lazy to check.

Anyways, y'all better be hungry because I'm here to serve you dinner!

Here's Beyond Shed Skin

almost 5,000 words, my children- feast.

warnings: SFW Vore, NSFW DON'T INTERACT, Blood, Snakes/Nagas, G/t, Body horror?? kinda.

Tommy drifted his eyes over the group of people in front of him. He’s been getting used to his new life, even if seeing all his loved ones as strangers was weird, along with the fact that he wasn’t sixteen anymore, instead twelve years old. He’d awoken in the forest, covered in rags that shouldn't even be called clothes, along with his blonde hair almost a deep brown from the amount of dirt in his curls. 

It was honestly a huge surprise for him to have been stumbled upon by a man. A familiar man. His instinct had been to run to his brother, part of his head supplying that the safety he brought meant everything to Tommy, but he had to remind himself that they weren’t technically brothers anymore. He had to think back on the plot of the book: the villain was the royal’s brother, having been conceived by Lady Death without the king's knowledge due to her magical restraints, but Techno and Wilbur wouldn’t know that, making him a stranger. The pink hair the man carried was a clear sign of calmness to him, showing that his big brother still looked the same despite the new world he found himself in.

Tommy had been here for around a month before Techno had stumbled upon him. He hadn’t been expecting it, even if he’d heard rumors in town that one of the princes planned to scour the forest for the monster roaming inside. In a way, they had been right. The prince had found his monster, but he couldn’t recognize it. The blonde had been very careful with his new body, able to shift and change from a large snake-like form in moments to the appearance of a young boy. It was in this small form that he’d been stumbled upon, quickly being confronted by the previously mentioned man. 

When Techno had spoken, his heart had stopped. He never thought he’d hear that voice again, low and behold, his big brother was right behind him. He turned and froze like a deer in headlights, the tall man pausing at the sight of him as well. Tommy had hoped for a moment that he’d be recognized, that he wasn’t the only one who’d been pulled into a new environment, but his hope was shattered swiftly. Instead of recognizing him, his brother had ordered a knight to check on him. It wasn’t hard to see that Techno had wanted to make sure the child was unharmed, but he also knew it was because the man believed he scared kids. 

Tommy had let himself be checked out, staying quiet so as not to give himself away in any way, even as a female knight asked him where things hurt. Nothing was hurting; he was a big kid after all, despite how certain they seemed to be that he was harmed. It took a glance for him to realize that it was because his clothes were drenched in a decent amount of blood. He knew some of it was his own, but most of it was from animals he’d caught himself. 

Despite this, he was being looked over, everything short of being stripped, which was when Techno intervened. So here he was, 5 months since being dragged to the castle, standing in front of his big brother with the rest of the royals in their seats. He recognized everyone in the castle at least in passing. Ranboo was Techno’s accountant in this world with Tubbo being an apprentice mage. Phil was a king, which was a role his dad didn’t fit into, even in this world, with his brothers being princes. 

He had been spending the last months eating well and being kept out of the forest despite how badly he wanted to return. He loved his family, and he’d do anything to protect them, but in this new world, he wasn’t here to help them. Tommy was destined to ruin them, destined to kill them, but he refused to cause his family any more suffering, even in a world he didn’t know. His eyes drifted over all of them, memories of laughter and joy hitting him roughly as he watched them. 

It hurt to have all his loved ones looking at him, every one of them completely oblivious to his connection and the desire he had to be back with them. He was learning to handle it, learning to recognize that even though it wasn’t the same, he’d managed to bond with each of them. He’d managed to get closer to the copy of his eldest brother. Techno and Tommy were one hell of a duo in this new life. His brother had taken the child into the forest and decided to keep him as a knight in training. At least, that's how he always explained it. The blonde had a feeling there was more to it, maybe their mom had visited him in a dream or something considering, in the book, Techno’s character had been known to have heavy connections to the divine. 

Even with all of this in mind, he still felt this sense of connection to them. These last 5 months have been wonderful, learning the differences and similarities each copy had to his previous life. Either way, he knew those connections wouldn’t change the current predicament. To keep his family as safe as possible, he’d broken into his memories, trying to convince Techno of the impending attack that was planned on the kingdom. He wasn’t one for reading, so he didn’t remember the specifics but knew enough to know the danger would be coming soon. It was one of the few events not caused by his character; instead, a neighboring country had sent assassins to take his father's life. 

In the main plot, Wilbur interrupts the attack and loses his life in place of the king. As much as he hated this version of his brother, Tommy couldn’t find it in himself to allow the man to die. Maybe, by preventing this tragedy, he could throw the plot on its head and remove his destiny as the villain. 

____________

Everyone’s eyes were burrowing into him, heavy gazes with a mix of emotions that he couldn’t disturb. He knew of the laws, someone couldn’t speak before them unless asked to so he had to wait as Techno explained the situation. He’d told him a lot of things, seeing him as the only trustworthy member of the royal family right now. He listened to the prince speak, hearing as he went over Tommy’s own words and his investigation that he’d done at the blonde’s request. The king was listening calmly, taking all of his words with open arms along with Ranboo, but… Wilbur was having none of it. His lack of care of obvious, and Tubbo seemed more intrigued by how Tommy knew of this attack. 

He was uncomfortable with the mix of emotions they all carried together, but at least his family acknowledging him was enough to send his heart rushing with joy. Tommy glanced over, Technoblade’s eyes meeting his, and a stern but gentle smile gracing his lips long enough for him to catch it before it returned to the stoic expression. “I’ve inspected his claims myself, and I trust Theseus enough to recognize his worry, Father.”

The older man was silent for a moment, taking his time to digest his son's words and judge his claims. With a hum, he stood, black wings hiding his throne from view as he spoke. “I recognize your worries Prince Technoblade, but the words of a random orphan aren’t justifiable for concern. No offense to your prodigy, son, but I have no reason to worry about my life.” Phil’s words stung, but he had to admit that he’d been allowed an audience at all was enough for Tommy. 

He watched as the blonde man went to sit back down, but something in the back of his head began to scream. The child turned, standing from his bow quickly and looking toward the right. A huge window was letting sunshine into the court, but that wasn’t what had grabbed his attention. Hidden, just out of a regular person’s sight, the younger blonde found his eyes landing on the shape of a human. He could hear voices rise, mostly Wilbur’s, before a hand landed on his shoulder. His head was pounding as he turned and looked up at the person who’d touched him, red eyes locking with his blue as he recognized what was going on. 

Tommy could feel his skin shift, his small body growing in size, and his legs turning to a long, thick tail of scales. He towered over the group in front of him, using his tail to trap them in the area as he pulled them towards his body. The blonde could smell their fear in each tongue flick he made, feeling as an arrow was embedded in his muscles where the king had once been sitting. He hissed, looking back at the window with his pupils no doubt slits. 

His ears flooded with blood, his hearing muffled within seconds as he shakily let his eyes drift toward the most active person in the room. His eyes landed on brown hair as he swiftly pounced, scooping a tall brown-haired man up and pushing him into his mouth without hesitation. He could feel legs squirming past his lips as human voices muffled the air around him. He drenched the arms and fabric in saliva, wanting to make sure he was well-coated so that the journey down was easy. Tommy swallowed, feeling the squirming past into his chest as he turned to look down at the little humans again. He found the one he’d swallowed tasted rather gross, but that wasn’t his main focus. He moved his hand to steady himself, pinning the pink-haired man down in the process as he locked his eyes on the blonde. 

The naga knew he needed to make sure everyone in the room was tucked away somewhere safe, so his brooding pouch would be the best idea. He could feel the small weight settling down into the space which was enough of a sign for him to grab the other man, shoving him into his mouth. The man’s wings were annoying, but he knew to be careful, licking at the chirping king with more careful laps than he had with the first. Tommy was purring loudly as he went ahead and swallowed him down too. 

It took him another swallow to get the king into his esophagus, licking his lips as his eyes drifted to see the two shapes tucked against part of his tail. He could tell the smaller of the two was standing in front of the taller one. His eyes were settled on the bee hybrid, scooping them both up with one hand before he carefully used his fingers to push the tiny one into his maw. He was gentle with his teeth, trying not to let them scratch at the 13-year-old’s clothes or body. 

He tasted like honey, causing him to drool a little. He’d always had a sweet tooth before being pulled into this new world, so being able to enjoy honey again was very appreciated. He was letting his hissy purr keep up, softly lapping at Tubbo since he could fit the small teen in his mouth completely. He could feel the squirm in his hands, gazing down at the one on the floor. He smiled a bit, recognizing that Technoblade was the one he had held down. The blonde swallowed, pulling his mouthful down in a moment before he swiftly stuffed Ranboo’s upper body onto his tongue, lapping at them with ease as Tommy swallowed some of his saliva.

His tail shifted, blocking the window again as another arrow shot through it, embedding in between two scales and causing him to hiss in pain. He wasn’t happy with that, also unable to tongue flick as his mouth was full. He swallowed, pulling the enderman hybrid into his esophagus. He gulped again, and then once more to force the wiggling shape deeper. He leaned forward, protecting his face as he pulled his hand away from the pinned man, and his tongue flicked out. He could taste the fear in the air, noticing how the scent was mixed with worry as well before he dipped his head further down, his chin resting on small hands as the man cradled a bit of his weight. 

His pupils widened a bit, being able to focus on the prince in front of him now that he had felt as though the people around him were safe. He watched the nervous smile creep onto Techno’s face, his big brother glancing around a small amount as his gravelly voice hit his ears. “You don’t mean to hurt any of us… I trust that Theseus.” Tommy’s gaze didn’t shift, eyes locked onto the man's pointed ears and the golden bands that decorated them. He purred as a hand carefully ran over his nose, a soft hiss escaping his lips before the sound of shattering glass shocked him from his calm stupor. 

He growled, the tip of his tail flicking around like an annoyed cat, before he ended up opening his mouth, pushing Technoblade’s upper body into it as his older brother snorted in alarm. Tommy didn’t acknowledge it, knowing he needed to get him somewhere safe so that he could handle the intruders and keep his family safe. He was working on coating himself in saliva, hissing a tad as the assassin entered the throne room. The skinny man got a better look at him, eyes widening at the sight of a royal member sticking out of his mouth. 

The teen smirked to himself, swallowing Techno down quickly while staring just past the small man. He let his eyes drift over, pupils narrowing significantly as his gaze landed on a tiny form. He’d been prepared to attack, angry at the humans for attempting to harm the people he deemed to be protected, but a sharp call in an unknown language was enough to startle him out of the instinct to attack. Tommy’s blue eyes widened, his pupils filling out once more as he realized that the intruder wasn’t alone. 

The naga shifted his large body, ignoring the six assassins, to bolt out of the throne room instead. He needed to make sure nothing risked their safety… so this fight was unnecessary, yeah… this fight wasn’t scary. He just needed to keep them safe. 

____________

Something about Theseus had struck a chord with him, and that was something that Technoblade couldn’t explain. That was what it had been at first, at least, before the gods had supplied an answer to his confusion. He’d had a feeling that the orphan wasn’t human, but a dream walk with his mother had made him feel as though he’d bitten off more than he could chew from an overcooked steak. Being told that this random kid was his full-blooded baby brother had been surprising enough, but Lady Death had also added that the boy was more than just a demigod, as he and Wilbur were. 

His mother had claimed she shouldn’t share more, saying that the blonde child should be able to share his secrets at his own pace. He’d agreed only after being reassured time and time again that Tommy meant none of them harm. He’d had a few more boundaries with the child in the following days, trying to process his feelings without accidentally harming him in the event he accidentally fell victim to the Voices once again. He’d learned over the months of awareness that they truly were in no harm in regards to the kid. 

Tommy could be a bit sporadic and loud, maybe a little chaotic, but he was a good kid deep down. When he got bedridden with the flu for around a week, the child had been parked right outside his door keeping better guard of him than the guards that were supposed to be watching over his room. He’d always understood why his knights were more lenient when it came to keeping him safe, since Techno hadn’t had an actual need for them since he first picked up a sword. Despite this and the knowledge of it, Tommy had remained inside his room at his door for five nights and four days, which had been a welcome presence when he’d escape his fevered haze. 

The boy’s request had been unexpected. Other than seeking some time in the garden, he’d not uttered a word about anything concerning his needs. The prince could easily grant any of his wishes since his soft spot for the boy had grown after his dad indulged his whim to grant him shelter in the castle. Asking for an audience from the king wasn’t something he ever expected to leave his mouth. Tommy had been stern with his request, but not enough for it to sound like a demand. 

Being reasonable, Techno had asked him why and his answer felt too real to be true. He had Ranboo search the matter, which granted enough proof for him to believe that the boy was correct about the assassination attempt. After talking with the child, they agreed that meeting as soon as possible was the best thing in this situation. 

The audience hadn’t gone as the prince wanted, but he at least set the idea into his dad’s head. He felt uncertain about slightly manipulating his dad, but it was the safest thing to do in this situation. He’d noticed how sad the pre-teen looked, planning to reassure the blonde after this that he’d bring it back up with the king when he had a chance. Theseus’s sudden disrespect to his father, standing without permission, wasn’t something he personally saw fault in; he was a member of the royal family, even if they lacked proof of it. He noticed how the boy’s eyes were set on the horizon. 

Wilbur was pissed at the disrespect, snapping at the child quickly. Techno waited for Tommy to reply, planning to take his side regardless of the reasoning behind his actions. What he didn’t expect was for the boy to ignore what his brother was spouting. The blonde seemed to be completely gone, his eyes scanning for a moment. Worry flashed across his face for a moment, being enough for the man to act. The crown prince reached over, hands settling onto too-small shoulders as he turned. His red eyes settled onto baby blues, and the emotions shared in one glance shocked him since he’d not seen such vulnerability in the child as recognition settled in. 

Theseus’s pulled away from him, his pupils having turned into slits as the 12-year-old hugged himself. He had no idea what was going on, but the pain on his face was enough for the prince to worry. “What in the…” He started only to cut himself off as he watched the boy change. His body almost seemed to convulse, his form shifting unnaturally, his hands looked too big, and his ears grew pointed, with more of his body following the change. His legs turned into a thick tail, scales lining the area and further up the boy’s torso fully dissipating just below his navel. The pattern and color on his... lower body matched the morph of a blue adder. Wilbur was quick to make his fear known, screaming as he began to back up, but Tommy’s tail coiled around their area, trapping every royal official in the room. 

The sound of a flying arrow pulled him from his shock, the attack landed on part of the naga’s scales, his red blood obvious on the pale blue of his tail. Techno’s eyes were wide with a mix of shock and concern as he looked up at Tommy. His hand hovered near his hip, his sword settled in its sheath as he kept his eyes on the giant child. “Theseus-” He started to say only to have Wilbur interrupt him with the amount of malice he’s come to expect from his brother. 

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you to take in some random orphan! This is why you shouldn’t be the crown prince-” The brunette’s rant was quickly stopped as he watched his younger brother get pinned under two hands, lifted swiftly as he was forced to look at Tommy’s back. He started to rush forward, only for those hands to move to the giant's face. Techno’s breath caught in his throat as he watched his brother’s form disappear past parted lips. He froze as the other prince screamed, yelling angrily instead of pleading, before a thick swallow caused the noise to stop. 

Anger flooded him momentarily, and he stepped closer as his head flooded with voices. He recognized some of them, the familiar sounds of swearing and calls for blood, but the soft hum of safety made him hesitate. This moment of pausing was enough for sharp eyes to land on him, quickly followed by the sudden weight pinning his body down. He looked up as the kid’s palm pressed against his torso, trapping him to the ground despite his attempts to push it away or squeeze out from under it. His head lay back, trying to look at the others in the corridor, seeing how the two other kids backed themselves into a corner. He could see the worry on Ranboo’s face; his accountant was frightened, and their multi-colored eyes were wide and teary. 

“Everything is going to be fine, just stay still,” Techno told them quickly before his eyes finally made their way back to the creature above him. His eyes widened at the sight of black feathers and legs sticking to and past it’s lips. He felt his heart drop as a purring sound seemed to leave the naga, sounding pleased as a swallow interrupted the constant hum. The prince was shocked to see his dad disappear, not sure what to do or say now that the man was gone with the few stray feathers grabbed with a simple lick of the lips. 

He followed Tommy’s gaze, taking note of how it landed on the other children in the room. “Tommy, stop! Don’t-” He started to call out, being ignored in favor of scooping them both up. Techno watched as Tubbo was nudged into the naga’s maw, Ranboo screaming in response to the near-perfect view of the creature’s mouth. The prince found himself pausing as he noticed how careful the giant was being, watching how he took care not to let the buzzing human touch his teeth or even get near them before he closed his lips with a hiss. 

The man wasn’t surprised to hear a faint gulp, seeing how the naga’s throat bobbed but the squirming form wasn’t sent down. He watched as the child’s eyes drifted over the room, his pupils widening as they landed on him before another gulp showed he forced the mage away. Tommy didn’t seem to hesitate, his eyes barely glancing at the window before he shoved the enderman into his maw as well. He could see how his ward swallowed what was seemingly saliva.

Theseus’s entire body tensed, hand pressing on him a bit tighter; if the man hadn’t been blessed by the gods, he probably would have been crushed under the giant’s strength. His tail shifted, raising a bit as he lowered his head with the pain on his face rather clear. He could see the anger and pain on his face, feeling his heart crushed at the sight. He never wanted to see such a look on the boy’s face, looking away just in time to miss how he forced his assistant down. 

The weight pinning his form suddenly left, allowing his lungs to heave like they were supposed to as Techno changed his focus. Tommy seemed worried and uncertain now, not as pained as he had been moments prior. He watched his tongue flick out, face getting closer as the pre-teen seemed to look solely at him. The prince moved his hands, feeling a chin nestled into them. He couldn’t help the soft smile that graced his face. Tommy seemed to be very happy with whatever he’s done. He trusts the kid enough to understand that whatever he’s done isn’t going to cause anyone pain. 

Technoblade took a deep breath, trying to keep the uncertainty in his voice hidden as he spoke up. “You don’t mean to hurt any of us..” He whispered, “I trust that Theseus.” He admitted as a quiet hiss escaped the young boy. They stayed like that for what felt like forever but was truly a few seconds, before the shatter of glass seemed to shake Tommy up. The low growl that left him sounded far too inhuman for a person to make, which seemed rather on brand at this point, considering his little brother was currently the size of a building. The preteen gave him no warning as his lips parted and his mouth was forced open. The boy leaned his head forward and used a hand to shove him closer. 

The prince gave a stangled snort at the action, his inhuman side squeaking out at the sudden motion. His arms were in front of him, slipping on the slick surface below him as he tried to brace his impact. It didn’t work very well, leaving the piglin sprawled out on the boy’s tongue. His legs felt cold compared to the heat that seemed to surround his upper body, lips tight around his waist as he barely managed to prop his head up. His eyes were quick to dart around, taking in his environment just as swiftly. There were large white columns that seemed less imposing than they should. Techno had considered that being surrounded by teeth would be life or death, yet he couldn’t help but feel content where he lay. 

He groaned as a glob of slime drenched his braid and forehead, forcing his eyes closed as he tried to keep saliva out of his sight. The muscle below him was shifting as he felt the head connected to the mouth he was inside move. Technoblade would have attempted to get Tommy’s attention, but the way the deep red muscles in front of him opened quickly told the prince that he wasn’t going to get a single word out. There was a distinct lack of tonsils in the area he could see, but there were pale sacks that seemed rather redundant until the sight of a striking snake hit his mind. He shifted his torso as the tongue lowered, feeling distinct teeth against both sides of his waist, enough to convince the man that they were fangs. 

The loud swallow wasn’t nice to hear, but the slick noises of moving muscles made him cringe. He found himself trying to pull away from each wall, only to be shoved down with one more gulp. The tight chute he began to fall through was pulsing him deeper as they moved, and louder sounds began to interrupt his thoughts. The sound of the wind was a surprise, but a heave of his chest was enough to allow him to understand the cause: lungs. He was passing right by Tommy’s lungs. His eyes were wide as another noise hit him, almost like the banging of a drum, as he assumed the boy’s heartbeat added to the bodily symphony. There was a mix of squelches and groans, things shifting naturally yet so unrealistically as his path suddenly opened into a wider sack. 

Techno was shoved into some kind of pouch, hearing quickly as multiple voices hit his ears and not the kind he was used too. His eyes lifted and landed on Ranboo as they moved to help him sit up. “W-what should we do?” They asked, their voice shaky as they shifted to pull Tubbo to their chest. 

The prince took a deep breath, feeling things move as the large body gave an uncomfortable gurgle. He let his eyes settle on the roof above them, feeling how everyone’s gazes bore into him.

“We wait.”

[crystal-moon-101]

A while ago I had made up a Zak for each day of the week to match Zak Saturday and Monday for fun, and because I wanted to give Zak some more AU similar to how Ben gets a lot of them. So not only do they all have different last names, but each have their own backstories and colour theming! So I hope you enjoy my little AU concepts.

-Zak Saturday-

Classic original Zak. I decided to draw them all when they're 11, start of the series vibes. So that's why he doesn't look like the ways I normally draw him currently, since those are when he's 14. Nothing different with his design here, beyond still giving him those vivid orange eyes.

-Zak Sunday-

Also known as Zak Argost, having been taken in by the man after he had a certain encounter with Zak's parents, resulting in their deaths. When Argost found the young toddler, seeing the start of Zak's power, he was happy enough to take the child with him and use his powers to his benefit. Due to being taken when he was very young, Zak doesn't remember his parents at all, fully believing in anything Argost tells him, the only family he has. So he happily helps his guardian in keeping cryptids tamed during Weird World shows, or during trips to learn about them, even if Argost puts Zak in more danger than he should. Due to his appearances on Weird World, Zak is a celebrity of sorts, even if he doesn't get to go out often. Argost also gives him a lot of gifts, keeping the child in a positive mood to keep him under his thumb. So Zak truly believes that Argost cares about him.

Though things start to turn when Argost finally decides it's time to hunt down Kur and take his powers, hiring Van Rook and Doyle on the mission. This leads to Zak and Doyle getting to know each other, with Doyle feeling protective over this random kid for some reason. Eventually this leads to him taking Zak away when this whole Kur business gets out of hand. While Doyle can't seem to convince Zak that Argost doesn't care about him, the pair do at least agree to try and find Kur first, Zak worried that even Argost shouldn't handle such powers. However, only time will tell if the pair discover the truth behind their unknown family history.

-Zak Monday-

The good old twisted gremlin of a child, Zak Monday and his family were a result of the smoke mirror. They come from a world that twists the very nature of people, a poor reflection of their negative aspects. If you're naive, then your mirror self is incredible dumb. If you're a bit of a perfectionist, then your mirror self is a control freak. And Zak Monday represents the twisted doubts of Zak feeling like a monster, so why have any doubts when you can be the monster?

I decided to change Zak Monday a bit to have the green eyes and green shirt with his own logo, cause I liked the idea that after his first appearance, they switch back to what they're suppose to look like. But other than that I kept the concept of him looking just like Zak, minus the inverted hair colour.

-Zak Tuesday-

The young naga is the son of Rani Nagi. Born solely to have Kur's soul enter and be a host, but whoops! Looks like Kur's memories aren't there, but that wasn't going to stop Rani Nagi, who thinks if she keeps at her plans, eventually her son will become the old cryptid king she once knew. Even going as far as to solely call her child Kur, who secretly calls himself Zak due to him often watching humans in the shadow, curious about them and wanting a name for himself. Zak Tuesday has a lot of identity issues, not helped by his mother's teachings towards him, ignoring all his dreams and personal thoughts. Eventually he just got really good at lying rather than convincing Rani Nagi.

However, the young cryptid prince is suddenly kidnapped by Argost one day, as he figured out where Kur's soul was currently living. Zak knew he would have died that day if not for Drew and Doc recusing him, having been chasing Argost over this Kur situation. Though they're a little surprise that upon meeting the new Kur, they find it's just a young naga who really doesn't know who he is. At first Doc and Drew didn't know what to do with him, but Zak begged them to not send him back home, and let him stay at their place until he could figure things out. He wasn't foolish, he knew the nagas were planning a war, and he wasn't keen on being the face of it all. So now the Tuesdays just have a snake living around the house, but they can't exactly complain as he is a well mannered guest at least. And perhaps the house doesn't feel so lonely with him around either.

-Zak Wednesday-

Some of you might recognize this one, but this Zak is from my old Zur AU, where Kur was reborn via the Kur Stone due to it being an egg, and Zak is a dragon that shapes between human form and dragon form. I decided to update him, making him Zak Wednesday now, with a pink theme! I also decided that instead of Kur being reborn, I wanted to shake things up a bit and have it that Zak was directly Kur's son. His mother is unknown, and as Kur saw how the world was at the time, he put Zak's egg into a stasis situation until it was discovered again. After saving it from Argost, the egg hatched among the secret scientist, leading to them chasing the child of Kur. But upon using his shapeshifting abilities to look like a child of Drew and Doc, they just couldn't help but adopt him on the spot, siting there was no sense in blaming Kur's son over what happened years ago.

The growing dragon is very playful with a cheeky personality. He exhibits a lot of draconic behaviors, with a wild and free spirit. He is aware of his family history, but he doesn't like to think about it, unsure in how to view his father based on the stories he's heard. Besides, Doc and Drew are his parents, and that's all that matter to him. Though perhaps this sudden appearance by Argost, claiming he was going to far Zak's father, has been a bit rattling to deal with.

-Zak Thursday-

When Kur knew he was going to die, and also knew his soul wasn't able to live the mortal realm, he made plans to make it so his reborn self would both be born in hopefully a better time, and be without his memories. It was better that way, so that his new self could live a lovely life without the sins from his past. But that didn't exactly pan out properly, as Kur was reborn and sadly remembers everything. It took him a while to understand this growing up, his young human mind not processing it until he was roughly 7-8, and even then he needed time to think about it. And now he's a depressed 11 year old who now has to be stuck with the fact his plan didn't work, unable to run away from the person he once was. Doc and Drew found out the truth when Zak tried running away one day, their son sitting them down and telling them the truth in hopes they'd just leave him, it would be better that way. But to his surprise they disagreed, as he was still their son, Kur or Zak, and it would be too dangerous to leave him alone.

So now Zak lives with his parents? Are they really his parents? The family keeping this dark secret to themself, even from the other scientists. Doc and Drew still reach out to their son, doing their best to connect with him, but he can't help but push them away. He doesn't deserve this, and they deserve better. However, their secret might come out after Argost stole the Kur Stone and now hunts for Kur, not realizing the truth right in front of him. So now the family tries to get the stones back, wanting to protecting Zak/Kur from others finding out. Doesn't help that he has to go through being a child again with such dark memories lingering in his head, feeling tired and overwhelmed with the world. Hasn't he suffered enough?

-Zak Friday -

In a world where Kur and cryptids successfully wiped out humans, the king ruled the lands for a while after, before one day he mysteriously vanished. Many concluded that he had died somehow, the details unknown, but this lead to a prophecy that one day their king would return, leading to many claiming to be him, or praying that they will be him for the power and wealth. In this universe, Zak and his family are all cryptids, with Zak being a a Chuvash Dragon, Drew and Doyle are Epimeliads, and Doc is a Gargoyle (Other characters are also cryptids in this timeline). Zak is a serpent like dragon that breathes fire, as a very twistable body, and can freely shapeshift. He's heard about the legend of Kur returning, but frankly he thinks they don't need him, even if the cryptid world has been shattered without a king for years now.

But when a yeti named Argost claims that Kur is back, being backed up by the Nagas, everyone starts to gossip and run around trying to figure out who the new Kur is. So maybe it's best that Zak doesn't tell the whole world about his sudden new powers to control and communicate any fellow cryptid is walks by.

[bellarkeselection]

His Compass of Harrenhal part 4

Part 3

- do y'all want one more part to this mini series???

Tag list - @only4thefics @superintenseart @universallyrascaldreamercookie @uniquecroissant @vavafaure1994

Daemon and I silently stood there just staring at the old caretaker of the crumbling castle.  The weight of the words that had just come from his mouth was very clear in the forefront of our minds.  I knew that this day would come, but I never imagined that it would be as sudden as this.  This visitor was not simply us meeting a friend for a chat. No, this was the Dragon Queen Rhaeynra Targareyon.

She is a fierce dragon and I am simply a fish out of water.  She could kill me probably without even blinking and walk away if she wished to.

She is also Daemon's former wife or maybe in her eyes they are still together.  There's no possible way that she knows about me.

"Daemon, what do you think she's going to do to me?" I mumbled lifting my head up slightly with a very nervous expression crossing my features.

He squeezed his fingers into my hips where his hands were resting on my body. "I don't know.  But you shouldn't worry your head about it."

"But she's your wife."

His bright purple eyes meet my gaze. "Y/n, don't worry about it because I will make sure she doesn't touch you or the baby in any capacity."

"Daemon! She's your wife. She needs you to get the support of the lords of the realm. I don't help give her any assistance-"

He covered my mouth with his right hand closing most of the gap that was still between us.  His voice went deeper yet remained in the gentle side that he only showed around me.  "Listen to me, little fish.  You are important to me.  I wouldn't have the support of the Riverlands if it wasn't for you.  So I never want to hear you say she doesn't owe you anything when she does owe you some grattitude."

"I'm still afraid, Daemon." I whispered to him under my breath.  The dragon prince nodded his head wrapping his strong arms gently around my waist, bringing me in closer.

Simon, who was standing in the doorway spoke up once before announcing his presence.  "My king, my lady, we should address the princess before she wastes anymore time."

"You should go.  I'll stay back-"

"You won't dare do any such thought.  We're in this together you and I.  I want you by my side."

"I wasn't expecting you."

Rhaenyra eyed her husband then the crowd of men behind him. "Seems rather a lapse in foresight.  I see you have done well here."

"They are sworn to me and not a moment too soon." Daemon admitted to her proudly, knowing she needed this army to have any chance of getting the Iron Throne.

Rhaenyra lifted her head up slightly to send him a deep glare asking the question.  "And to whom are you sworn?"

"The world is not what we thought it was.  This war is just the beginning.  Winter is Coming with darkness and doom.  ( Se vys iksos daor skoros īlon thought ziry istan. Bisa vīlībāzma iksos sepār se beginning. Sōnar māzis rūsīr darkness se vējes.)"

Rhaenyra made a confused expression.  "You sound like my father. ( Ao sound raqagon issa kepa.)"

"I saw that we cannot withstand it..and yet, somehow we must. ( Nyke ūndan bona īlon daor withstand ziry. Se yet, somehow īlon līs.)" Daemon clicks his tongue glancing over his shoulder at me for a brief second before looking back at her.  He lowered himself down onto one knee catching her by slight surprise. "The realm's only hope is a leader who can unite it.  And my brother chose you.  You are the true Queen.  Rhaenyra, the first of her name, Protector of the Realm.  I am meant to serve you and all of these with me until death or the end of our story."

Slowly every single lord around me bent down on one knee to address her properly as their Queen.  I placed one hand on my swollen stomach and did the best I could to be down on one knee like the others. Squinting my eyes I was still trying to understand what they were saying in High Valyrian, I was still learning the language from Daemon. "Leave me again at your peril. ( Henujagon issa arlī rȳ aōha peril.)"

"I could not. I tried. ( Nyke could daor. Nyke sylutan.)" Daemon rose from the stone ground addressing her before her dragon made a noise.  "My Queen."

"For every one of us who falls a hundred of them.  There will be no mercy." Daemon put his back to the two of us, drawing his sword out and declaring to the massive crowd of men.  "We fight for our Queen!"

The crowd drew their swords and cheered alongside him till Rhaenyra noticed me standing at the front of the crowd with my hands resting on my stomach and I was only really looking at her husband.  "Daemon, who in the realm is the pregnant woman standing before me?"

"You're grace..." I nervously bowed my head down to address the dragon queen before me.

The queen slowly walked forward scanning her eyes down my body and held her eyes solely on my pregnant belly.  "What is your name, my lady?"

"Y/n Tully, your grace." I simply responded to her.

She questioned back softly.  "Who is the father of the babe in your belly, Lady Tully?"

"Um.  I must admit I am not comfortable sharing that information, your grace." I lowered my gaze from hers and accidentally took a few steps away from her showing I was afraid of her next response.

Rhaenyra bites her lip in a tight line.  "Daemon, I demand to know what else you have been doing here while working to secure me an army of Riverlands men and I demand to know now!" 

"Rhaenyra, she's my - the baby growing in her womb belongs to me." Daemon placed his sword back inside its holder coming over to the two of us.

The dragon queen clicked her tongue.  "There's more you're leaving out.  Tell me now."

"She's my wife." Daemon finally mutters under his breath.  This caused everyone else in the crowd to gasp and take large steps backwards in utter shock.

Rhaenyra whipped her head around glaring at me and I shut my eyes thinking she would lay a hand on me.  Yet when I heard a harsh smack where I peaked one eye opened seeing Daemon holding his cheek with one hand.  "You promised me you'd be loyal to me.  You led me on when I was a child and I believed you and yet you still do this.  You betray my trust by marrying and bedding another woman!"

"I now see what my brother saw in you when he named you heir.  I see that you will be the realm's protector even if you no longer are the object of my desire." Daemon made his way past his former wife stopping directly in front of me.  He cupped my face in his hands resting his forehead against his.  "I've never thought that a woman would change me, make me truly care about her safety, want to bear her children and not simply to further my house.  She brings out the best version of me."

"And where does your loyalty stand, Y/n Tully?" The black Queen questioned me after we had broken away and I was standing beside my dragon husband.

"My loyalty will be to your cause, my Queen." I gave her the best curtsy I could, sending her a weak smile.

Rhaenyra glared at me and her former husband but bravery pushed her jealousy aside knowing we had bigger problems if she wished to take her throne back from her half brothers.  "Our focus needs to be on getting my throne back from the Greens.  But don't think for a moment that this conversation is over between the three of us." She spun on her heels being escorted into a separate room by Simon leaving me, Daemon and the lords behind us all thrown for a loop by how she ended the conversation.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

[littlelambscandyland]

Don't Touch Their Baby

Cg!Valeska Twins x Little!Reader

Warnings- (Slight) Graphic Deceptions of Violence (Beginning), Ecco is a terrible person in this so if you like her sorry, Severe Injury, Implied Kidnapping of a Doctor, Nicknames (Toots, Doll, Beloved, Honey), Reader Has Hair

You knew she didn't like you, but you didn't think she'd do this. Ecco never really cared for the rules your daddies put in place for you. She never really cared about your safety. She never really cared for you. But, this, it felt almost like a betrayal. You couldn't see her face, yet you knew it was her. You could hear angry rants in between the ringing in your ears.

Your head hurts so much. You can practically feel the broken pieces of your ribs poking at the inside of your flesh. Your cheeks were torn and your eyes bruised. Crimson easily poured from your mouth, from your ears, from your nose. You'd cry if you could, but the overwhelming feeling of tearing skin drained all energy to fight or cry.

It was painful. You wondered if she was going to even leave you alive. Wondered if she would kill you all because she wanted what you had. Then again, she wanted it in a different way. She wanted romance, you simply wanted family. You wanted your daddies to save you. Truly, you were scared.

It wasn't much of a surprise when your eyes finally closed for a prolonged sleep.

The machines beeped around you, and though neither man would show it they were seething. You should be dead. The doctor said repeatedly it was a miracle you held on. Both men had to restrain themselves from smothering the Doc after saying such a thing. Of course, you'd live. Their little fighter.

Who had done this to you? Why weren't they there to protect you? Where the hell were the idiots who were supposed to protect you? Every question made them angrier. They will figure this out and everyone will pay for what was done to you.

Small injuries aside. The twisted ankle and black eyes hold little against your broken ribs and cracked skull. Their baby, laying still. Their baby, not crying or fussing the way they know you would have, had you been awake. Their baby, not begging for their daddies to comfort and coddle them the way you should be. This shouldn't be happening, not to their baby.

~~~~🧡~~~~💜~~~~🧡~~~~💜~~~~

It had been too long. The city was suffering, and everyone knew why. The one person capable of bringing sense to the Valeskas. The only one to make them feel. They weren't here. They were gone. No one knew where they went. All anyone knew was they were all paying for it. Questions go continuously unanswered causing every event to escalate.

Despite her constant attempts, even Ecco couldn't save Gotham from the wrath of the Valeska twins.

It was lucky you woke up when you did. Who knows how much longer the city would have lasted.

The buzzing of machines and the scribbling of a pen met your ears when you came to. The light was dim, surprising, you thought you'd be in a hospital. You were greeted by a mortified doctor. A man, terrified, yet diligent in caring for you. He answered every raspy question you asked.

Soon enough, he was scurrying out of the room with a promise to bring the two men you asked for the most in.

When the twins come in they have very different reactions. Jerome throws himself onto the king size bed with you. Jeremiah lurks at the door for a few extra moments before hovering next to the bed.

"Welcome back to the world of the living toots." Jerome grins, but there's something lingering behind his toothy smile.

"S' nice to be here." You giggle sadly.

Unlike Jerome, Jeremiah jumps straight to the point. "What happened?"

Memories flash behind your eyes, and you can't help but feel a growing panic. Should you even tell them? What if you were wrong and it wasn't actually Ecco? What if it was and they pick her over you?

The panic made you slip. The fear and dread rebuilding, with a severe need for comfort. You were fine waking up. You forgot what happened, you didn't think about having to tell them. Your world gets smaller and smaller. You begin to cry.

"I don wanna talk about it." Tears fall from your swollen eyes.

Even Jerome's face hardens at your words. "Sorry, doll, but you're gonna have to tell us anyways."

"It's imperative." Jeremiah adds on.

"Im-peri-tive." You frown, trying to remember what the word means.

He sighs. "Necessary, beloved."

"I don wanna!" You start to cry harder.

It was too much and too soon. You can't tell them. You want to, but your scared.

Jerome's quick to pull you into his side. A few hushes and shushes falling from his scarred lips as he rocks you gently enough not to hurt. Jeremiah isn't far behind as he takes a spot on the other side of you, a cold hand sliding to your hand and holding it tightly.

Their method works quite well, and you feel yourself slowly calm. It doesn't change your mind, however.

"You're gonna be mad." You whisper into the gingers shirt.

Jerome laughs darkly.

"Oh, honey, we're far past that point." Jeremiah informs you, hazardously. The pale man moves his hand to your hair and pets it slowly. "Now. Tell us what happened."

"What 'f I'm wrong an you get hurt?" You cry.

"Why would you get it wrong?" Jeremiah questions.

You bury your head into Jerome's shirt more."She hit m' head really hard."

"Hmm." Jerome hums along. " And, why would it hurt ol' Miah's feelings?"

"Is daddies best friend!" You sob out into his shirt. " 'n what ifs she didn't mean it?" You know she did, but you were so scared to let them know all the details. "Please don hate me." You whimper.

"Beloved, we could never hate you." He almost hisses out. It does little to comfort you.

The twins had already put it together, but they needed to hear the details from you first.

"We're gonna need more details from ya' dolly." Jerome says, pushing you to lean slightly more on Jeremiah.

It took some more convincing, but you soon broke down to the two men. Every gory and horrific detail spilled out. Every word you could recall her saying. Every insult and act of violence. It felt like hours as they listened attentively to every word. Even when your little mind couldn't say things the right way they listened and held onto it.

Once you've finished with your retelling the events Jeremiah excuses himself first. He leaves a chaste kiss to your hair, and leaves with purposeful but stiff strides. Jerome stays with you a bit longer cooing and praising you for being so brave. Once you start to drift back off Jerome takes his leave as well, with a quiet promise that everything will be okay when you wake.

~~~~🧡~~~~💜~~~~🧡~~~~💜~~~~

It's been a week since you've woken up. Everyday since has been filled with quiet loving and gentle hands. Something most people wouldn't suspect from Gotham's most feared criminals. Neither Jerome nor Jeremiah brought up the incident in the past week. They've also not mentioned your assailant, Ecco.

You've tried to move on as you heal, but you've woken up several times from nightmares that wouldn't let you rest. Anytime you'd wake up screaming or crying one of the twins would hold you. Both having their own odd ways of comforting you, but both mentioning each time you wouldn't have to worry about her anymore.

They would never tell you what they did. Even out of regression they refuse to let you be witness to such violence. Not that the woman didn't deserve it, but you didn't deserve to be in the crowd. No, their baby only needs to know they're safe. Their baby doesn't need to know the hours they spent tearing that woman apart. How they made sure she'd pay for every little nick on your skin. No, their baby just needed the two of them to hold them tightly until those nasty dreams went away. Their Baby didn't need to know the damage they inflicted on the woman's very soul, no. In the end the woman was lucky they finally let her die, but you didn't need to know that.

She served a good purpose, though. Now all of Gotham has been witness to what happens to a person who lays a hand on you. It doesn't matter who they will meet a terrible fate. Their baby has to be kept safe after all.

And, safe you were, oblivious, and tucked between your daddies arms as they regale you a bedtime story.

[keelt9]

Chapter 2

Masterlist

It’s what I like to call my day off; Anton gives me Sunday so I can rest and enjoy the day. I would love to see his face if he knows that instead of going out, I’m sitting in the living room seeing my little sister Mia struggling to brush her hair while we do our daily video call.

“That’s why you should use a conditioner.” Mia is a diver, even though she has practiced since she was 5 years old, she normally is careless with her hair, she takes a deep care of her body but her hair seems to be in another world. Mia keeps making funny faces as she tries to get the comb out of her hair. 

“Auch!” 

Liam even getting his keys, he chooses knocks first, waits for a couple of seconds and opens the door.

“Morning, morning.” Liam enters with my new supplies of ice bags, bigger ones. 

“What about if…” As he passed to the kitchen leaving the bags in the cooler, he noticed who I’m speaking to. “Oh, hi Mia.” 

Mia with a comb stuck in the top of her hair and taking a bite of her sandwich smiles and waves her hand. 

“Hi Coach.” Liam smiles and lets us talk. 

“Show me, show me.” My hands fake the sound of tambourine on the table, Mia takes out a silver medal under her shirt, she got it this afternoon. “Congratulations! Oh, I would love to be there.” 

“I love having you here too, but first you need to recover, I mean, I want the next medal we celebrate be from you, and if I don’t ask too much, a golden one.” Mia is my personal cheerleader and I’m hers, since she was little it was easy to recognize her in my junior competitions for her big pink poster in the crowd.

“Breathe and feel the air in your lungs.” We spoke at the same time, the words our dad always repeated to us when we were so overwhelmed. 

Talking about the king of Rome, we hear him shout for her. “I have to go, I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?” Mia smiles before ending the call, still I was able to see her picking her sandwich and running to dad.

“Hey, you have really cleaned the apartment.” Liam is observing the kitchen and the living room, I stand not before grabbing the ice bag one more time and putting it over my shoulder. 

“It’s my way to pass my free time.” Liam lends his head and his face turns serious. “Come on Liam! Don’t look at me like that, I go out for groceries… Oh! And I found a really nice place where they prepare delicious french toast.” 

He doesn't need to tell me anything just grabs the keys one more time, takes the ice bag from me and drags me out of the apartment. 

“Fuck” I whisper lowing my head not before dropping the scapular to the floor. “Sorry, it's just…”

“It’s ok Y/N, it’s a different exercise, take it easy.” This week the towel is left aside and I start to use the scapular, for a scapular stretch. To be honest I try to use scapulars. 

“Here.” Liam gave me an ice bag, and lately it became my best friend. The ice bags help to reduce the swelling and minimize the pain, always wrap around a towel. “Let us talk a little, I will make sure to call you for a check up.”

That means they will talk about things I shouldn't hear, yet. So, I grab my bottle of water, my phone and the ice bag with me walking straight to the garden. 

“That’s a better hack.” I turn around when I hear Max's voice. My bottle now has a strap avoiding it rolls out of my wrist. 

“Oh, yeah, it makes my life easier.” Max nods and points to the chair next to me. 

“Can I?” I nod so he can sit. “Are you all right? I mean, the ice bag is not a good sign, right?”

“It’s a small inflammation, I’m ok, thanks for asking.” I don’t want to mention right away anything he probably hears the first two minutes someone mentions when meeting him for the first time. 

“You? Are you all right?” My questions take him by surprise but he presses his lips in a smile and nods. 

“Just a little bit of physical conditioning.” The silence that follows, he cut it out with a question. “You mention about being ready, what do you mean?” 

“Amm, well, there is a competition in a year, but the test begins in 10 months, so if I want to be there, first I need to be in the tests. It's a long story.” 

“I love to hear it.” I am getting goosebumps all over my body.

We talked for 40 minutes, in the middle of our talk he already mentioned what he does and his really impressive achievements and his goals, naturally, not trying to brag about just as he’s telling his day by day. 

I felt comfortable talking with him about my goals too, how I terribly miss grabbing a bow and shooting arrows over a field, even allowing myself to tell him things I usually don't tell anyone who I just meet. 

“Y/N, ready?” Liam appears in the crystal doors with my bag over his shoulder and his in the other one.

“I have to go, thanks for listening to me.” The ice bag stops being ice now just a liquid gel forgotten in my lap.

“Please, thanks for hearing me too, Y/N” Max stands with me, however he remains in the garden as I walk where Liam is waiting for me. 

“Ready.” I plan to take my bag but he moves faster and takes it out of my hands. “Is everything alright?” 

Liam smiles and puts his hand carefully over my right arm. “Just good thighs, just good things. So…”

“HEY Y/N!” Max shouts at me. I don’t know if Liam recognizes Max or he is pretending not.  

“I’ll wait for you outside.” Let me alone so Max can reach me.

“It’s ok if I… well… If I talk with you when we meet here, you know, just a simple talk.” 

“Are you really asking me if you can talk with me?” Eyes hide just a little bit between his eyelids, smiling.

Can it be cuter?

“I mean, I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable around me.” He jokes, making me laugh.

“I'm already feeling the pressure.” 

Max’s smile is contagious, now I know that.

That's how our small talk happens every time we meet in the center, varying each one of them; sometimes long, sometimes short but each time I get something meaningful from him and I give him something meaningful from me.

“That's nice! Well done Y/N.” My exercises of internal rotation have been pretty well, the swelling slowly decreases; Anton hopes in a few weeks, we will introduce advanced ones.

A soft knock on the door calls for our attention, one of the nurses of the center told us she has an envelope for me. 

Mia has been sending me photos, not for email, not for a message, a palpable ones; for at least I make the apartment look a little bit like home.

“I have to fill some papers, I’ll wait in the reception.” By the time Liam ends that phrase leaving the room with Anton, the third beep of the call I made was interrupted.

“What about if instead of a boring Sunday shut in your four walls you spend a full package all included for a F1 race?” The train tickets, the name tag with my photo, and a strange brochure from 3 different restaurants are in my hand. 

“Max, I really, really appreciate it…” He won’t let me reject him so easily.

“No, no, wait, let me finish, have you ever been in a F1 race?”

..............................................................................................................................

Thank you so much for reading.♥️

[tinysnailtales]

Yona of the Dawn Chapter 15

Wavering Determination

After hearing the prophecy and determining a path forward, we are finally on our way to meeting the dragon warriors(!). We also get the start of this Yoon gag–love it.

There is an air of intensity and mystery around the village of our first dragon warrior, which "has secretly dedicated itself to protecting [the dragon] blood" and is "not aligned with any other tribe and [doesn't] accept outsiders." Right away we learn that the dragon warrior from this tribe will probably have intense faith in the myths and will be another character who has lived in isolation, cut off from the rest of the world. It also seems like this village, and perhaps all the dragon villages, are more dedicated to the figure of the Crimson Dragon King than the country of Kouka.

Each character is charmingly fixated on something different as they leave Ik-Soo with Hak thinking about potential threats (which is accompanied by a nice reminder of the world's geography), Yoon being excited about seeing the dragon village and the world, and Yona basically ignoring the others and declaring "I wonder if soldiers will attack us again. I...need to learn...how to use a sword!"

Thus this chapter is focused on the search for the legendary dragon village and Yona's desire to learn how to use weaponry (get physically stronger). This connects back to King Il and his ambitions of nonviolence, which Hak himself emphasizes when Yona asks him to teach her how to fight.

"King Il never allowed you to touch a weapon. By doing this, I'm defying his orders. Think carefully about...why your father hated weapons."

He also really emphasizes that in order to truly learn to fight effectively, Yona must be willing to kill her opponent. Despite Hak's harsh words of reality, Yona is firm in her dedication to getting stronger and learning to fight. At least for self-defense. Hak agrees to teach her how to use a bow for now. 

I appreciate Yona's desire to learn "even if [she's] no match for [their enemies] or can't kill them." Yona is not aiming to be the best, she just simply wants to get stronger and be able to survive (and help the group do so!) It's not the point, but I like how it waves at the value of learning a skill even if you'll never be the best at it.

Hak, and really Kusanagi's, insistence that Yona must be willing to kill is really fascinating to me. Is it true? Hak holding onto King Il's ideals more than Yona is interesting too–yes, he does not put them into practice, but he feels the burden of them when entrusted with King Il's daughter.

I think like with the gods vs. humans, Yona presents a possible path of balance when it comes to violence vs. nonviolence. And this ties into the idea of "does she need to kill to fight?" I think perhaps it's less about being willing to kill and more about having her own ideals. Learning to fight not only provides development in her physical (and mental) strength, but it is part of her journey of self-discovery and identity. Very good!

Yoon seems to support Hak's way of thinking too, which is not totally surprising considering his "kill or be killed" attitude as a poor orphan. 

"When you use weapons...you shouldn't be half-hearted about it. We're talking about life-or-death situations. Self-defense is great in theory...but if powerless people like us were thrown onto the battlefield, do you think we could afford to not kill our enemies? In order to survive...we need to be ruthless and try to kill them in one shot...or fight dirty. We...have no choice but to outsmart them." 

Though perhaps the idea that only someone as skilled/strong as Hak has the choice to hold back could function as foreshadowing for the options faced by a stronger, more developed Yona.

Speaking of Yona's development, Yoon's thoughts taken with Yona failing to take out a baby boar emphasize how the "you must be willing to kill" idea fits in with Yona's development. She reflects that "drawing your bow means taking a life or letting someone take yours," which I don't think is necessarily true, but she is learning she must be decisive and stand her ground.

Hak offers some praise, noting she almost got it, but Yona can only think: "injuring it seems crueler than killing it for food" to which Hak notes "You're not committing yourself to it." Yona has already shown her willingness to commit herself to her goals, specifically her desire to protect Hak, but that is now being reinforced. I also think Yoon pointing out how the physically "powerless" and weak need to "fight dirty" and "outsmart" their enemies could point to Yona being a strategist in the future. 

Hak and Yona's archery practice is also revealing regarding Yona's feelings about Soo-Won and Hak and Yona's relationship. Hak has seen Yona desperately cling to the hairpin from Soo-Won and detach herself from reality after his betrayal–he thinks Yona is still in love with Soo-Won and unable to let go of him and her feelings. This moment shows that Yona's feelings are more complicated than that.

She says "there isn't anyone I want to kill!" but when provoked by Hak bringing up Soo-Won, she just about hits him dead-on with an arrow. She may not want to kill Soo-Won, but she does feel some messier, angrier emotions about him. That and Hak bringing him up in such a way gets to her–he's poking at a sensitive and complicated topic and he knows it. There is anger at Soo-Won and Hak. 

And yet, though Yona does not want to kill anyone (which I think is interestingly being set up as perhaps something that will change), she declares she'll "still use any weapon to protect [Hak]! No matter who [she] has to sacrifice," which is very...intense. Maybe it is because Hak feels like all she has left, at least of her past life, but it is as if he has become the center of her life and aims. Part of Hak's dedication to Yona is his (romantic) love for her, but for Yona–at least for now–it's something else. 

Yona's declaration makes Hak reassert their difference in status (after allowing himself a little forehead smooch), stating again that Yona should "think of [him] like a tool" and "you don't need to worry about tools." For someone so confident in his abilities, he has pretty low self-esteem. He really views his life as expendable.

And like damn, this is a good chapter to dive into Hak's feelings for Yona and how they impact his behavior, starting with his regrettable man-handling and over-the-line teasing at the beginning. Something to ponder and maybe return to...

Through all of this, it's kind of awesome to watch Yona struggle and dedicate a lot of time and energy to getting better at archery to the point of waking up in the middle of the night to fire arrows. In another, lesser story, she might have shown a natural aptitude or picked it up right away. Having her build the skill over time, and not just in montage fashion, makes things more realistic and also further emphasizes her character and arc. I think it also endears us to her. 

[darkinfinity]

Happy 28! Here are all the fics I read and enjoyed this past month!

☁ Call out my name by lesbidirection (E, 101k)

Apparently, it's bad PR to fall in love with the omega you hired to help you through your rut.

Harry Styles begs to differ.

A soulmate AU where two lovers find each other entirly by accident, featuring photoshoots, Gucci suits, too many takeaways, having sex and feeling sad, an alpha who feels lost, and the omega that finds him. It shouldn't be this easy, but it is.

☁ don't be afraid to love (and love again) by @voulezloux (T, 83k)

All Louis’ life, he’s known he’s been different. There’s always been something at odds about how he felt.

As the eldest daughter of seven kids, he knew something was wrong with his body. Something was off, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His mum dressed him in dresses and tights, plaits in his hair as he wandered around with the local neighborhood boys. They called him a girl, called him she and Rosemary when his name is Louis. He had told the boys as such, but they would tell him Louis is a boy’s name, not a girl’s.

Louis is a boy. He knows he is.

or the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

☁ Wither & Bloom by @dizzy-pixie17 (E, 65k)

No one knows that legendary Harry Styles is an omega. The record label, the fans, and even his family have no idea, leading to a very isolated and very lonely life for Harry. He knows it's for the best. Otherwise, he'd never have the career he wanted and he contents himself in the knowledge that he's not the only one. But when Harry injures his voice during a performance, his manager hires a new vocal coach to help put him to rights. Cue Louis Tomlinson, the sweetest, sexiest, kindest alpha in the world, stepped right out of Harry's dizziest daydreams. While Louis tries to figure out why there's something so incredibly un-alpha-like about 'Alpha-King of Pop' Harry Styles, Harry is busy trying to control his omega's undeniable urge to throw himself at the object of his infatuation.

Amid an accidental misgendering, getting slick in public, tour bus snuggles with awkward boners, and unprovoked drops, Harry will have to choose whether he wants to keep living a lie for the sake of remaining in the spotlight or if he'll sacrifice everything to be with the man he loves… Assuming Louis ever comes back.

☁ Give me love by @falsegoodnight & @soldouthaz (E, 41k)

Despite being an omega, Louis’ always had a blatant dislike of alphas.

Or, Louis doesn't feel like a good omega, Harry doesn't remember how to be an alpha, and they figure it out together.

☁ Freeway of love (in a pink Cadillac) by @mizzhydes (E, 33k)

Louis was on his way to Miami to visit an old friend. Harry was going there for a little R&R and take in the sights and sounds. A sudden upgrade in seating brought these polar opposites together. The universe works in mysterious ways and they are unknowingly about to embark on an adventure they will surely remember for a lifetime.

Prompt 107: Sugar daddy AU inspired by this tweet: “going to sit next to the richest looking middle aged man on my flight and scroll through my nudes for three hours straight” with rich daddy Harry and bratty baby Louis

☁ this brokenness inside me might start healing by @loveislarryislove (T, 29k)

Louis grew up in a tiny town, where everyone knew everyone -- or at least, they think they do. Then he left, and became a successful singer-songwriter, a star that everyone in the country knows -- or at least, they think they do.

But when Louis returns home for the birth of his first nibling, he meets a librarian who doesn't know him at all. And that's all Louis could ask for.

☁ Cuddlebug by sun_flowr (Not rated, 19k)

When the call from the adoption agency finally calls, Harry and Louis are surprised to discover that they have been tentatively paired with a young pup named Rami, who suffers from a multitude of issues stemming from the abandonment he’s suffered. But no matter the challenges, they know they will do everything they can to care for and love this pup as if he was their own.

Prompt: a/b/o established relationship where they finally go adopt a child and find a toddler with touch depri/abandonment issues and they build him a nest and comfort him

☁ Stars will align for us by @2tiedships2 (Not rated, 15k)

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis…especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

☁ now i'm tracin' all my steps to you by @alwaysxlarrie (T, 5k)

Of all the things Harry was prepared for this summer, Louis Tomlinson and his wonderful, wonderful scent isn't one of them. It probably shouldn't be as shocking as it is that it makes Harry want to nest. There's only one slight problem -- Harry and nesting aren't exactly on familiar terms. At all.

This does not stop Harry from borrowing ("borrowing") Louis' things all throughout summer, though. Oops?

☁ Send me your pillow (the one that you dream on) by fairytalefemme (G, 3k)

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

Short fluffy o/o gaybo drabble with lots of cuddles and softness and sock stealing <3

[overthattwilight]

Just some lines changed in the Korean dub of Ninjago

(Only for lines I can remember I was bored lol)

Season 1 Episode 5: Can of Worms

(When Kai finds Wu's lesson book from Lloyd and takes it)

Original

Lloyd: It was the perfect plan, until you had to show up and mess everything up-

Korean dub

Lloyd: I was having fun! That's my uncle's, so give it back to me!

Note: When the door is closed, Lloyd's voice doesn't get muffled. You can still hear him saying his words

Season 1 Episode 6: The Snake King

(When Kai drops off Lloyd at the arcade and leaves)

Original

Kai: Sorry, shorty!

Korean dub

Kai: I'm busy. Bye!

Note: I made the translation like this, but actually, instead of "I", Kai calls himself Hyung(형), a word for big brother in Korean. Even when not siblings, this can be used for boys older than boys. Sometimes in Korea, we would replace "I" with other words depending occasions. This is that case

Season 1 Episode 7: Tick Tock

(When Wu explains his past, and Jay is surprised Wu and Garmadon were friends when they were little. Then Jay explains about Lord Garmadon)

Original

Jay: The King of Cruelty, the Doer of Destruction, the Captain of Chaos...and you two were friends?

Korean dub

Jay: He has a face like a demon, his hobby is destroying, and his speciality is taunting ninjas! But you two were...in a good relationship?

Note: Personally, I find the descriptions in the Korean dub fun

Season 3 Episode 3, Blackout

(When Kai encounters Tech Wu)

Original

Kai: Sensei? What have they done to you?

Korean dub

Kai: Sensei? What happened to your face?

Note: So in the original, Kai realizes what happened to Wu. But in the Korean dub, it sounds like Kai is still processing to understand what happened to Wu

(When Cole and Jay goes to attack Tech Wu)

Original

Cole: More like Tech Wu!

Jay: Bad Sensei, bad!

Korean dub

Cole: Yeah, it seems like that!

Jay: Yeah, he's not Sensei! Attack!

Note: By the way, in Korea, Tech Wu is "Evil Wu". Kind of something more direct so the children audience can understand better? Also it's fun to find how Jay in the original said "Bad Sensei, bad!"

Season 3 Episode 6, Codename: Arcturus

(When the Lloyd gives the Golden Power to the ninja, and they show off their powers)

Original

Jay: Anyone shocked to see me do this? Huh?

Cole: No dirt of my shoulder!

Zane: Chill out!

Korean dub

Jay: Hey, you guys can't do this? Huh?

Cole: Oh say that after seeing me!

Zane: Look at me, too!

Note: The puns related to the elements weren't kept in the Korean dub. It might able to make those element related puns in Korean, but I think the process would be hard

(When the ninja goes to space and the others find out. Garmadon being angry to Wu)

Original

Garmadon: You wanted them to take risks, to see how far they'd go. Is this what you had in mind? How far? How far must they go?

Korean dub

Garmadon: I told you the ninja shouldn't be left doing what they want. You said to have trust in the ninja, and now this happened! What are you going to do now? The ninja went to space!

Note: Actually in this part, Garmadon called the ninja as "the kids", not as "the ninja". Either can be interpreted as the ninja are kids Garmadon has responsibility, or the ninja are little kids who are still immature in Garmadon's eyes

Season 4 Episode 2: Only one can remain

(When Master Chen appears and he greets the elemental masters)

Original

Chen: Now, everyone can all DI-RECT your attention to me!

Korean dub

Chen: Now, say goodbye to the world! A new world will be unfold!

Note: Considering the original was using a pun by using the syllable(which di from direct sounds like die), it was hard to use the same pun in Korean. Therefore the line was changed

(When the Kabuki people appear to lead the elemental masters to their rooms)

Original

Jay: Ugh, just what this place needs. Creepy Clowns!

Garmadon: Not clowns, Kabuki. Chen's jesters.

Korean dub

Jay: Ugh, who are those people? With faces white as heck!

Garmadon: They are dressed up as Kabuki. Actors for traditional Japanese drama.

Note: I believe the reason why Garmadon in the explained what Kabuki is because the children audience won't know what Kabuki is. But...isn't Ninjago different from our world? Even if there are many Japanese features, are they called as 'Japanese'? Or another word?

Season 4 Episode 7: The Forgotten Element

(When Nya reunites with Zane)

Original

Nya: Zane! You're back!

Zane: What? What is on my back?

Korean dub

Nya: Zane! You've changed a lot!

Zane: What? You're not saying I'm old, right?

Note: Since the original made a pun using "back", it was impossible to keep this pun in the Korean, due to language difference. Therefore it was changed to what is seen. Also, Nya's line can somewhat be seen as greeting someone who you haven't seen for a long time. In this context "you've changed a lot" can be seen as "you've grown a lot". I guess that's why Zane said about being old

[olivialau]

Shadow's Embrace Ch.29

Sukuna x Reader

Disclaimer:

This is a work of fanfiction based on the universe of "Jujutsu Kaisen," created by Gege Akutami. The original manga, anime, and characters belong to their respective owners and creators.

Notes:

This story unfolds in the Jujutsu Kaisen world, set in a slightly altered universe where Sukuna inhabits his own vessel distinct from Itadori Yuji's body, making him a separate entity.

Summary:

Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, becomes fascinated with a female sorcerer rich in potential but lacking control. Initially seizing her for his destructive plans, Sukuna aims to bind her abilities through a contract. Yet, as he tries to dominate her, he finds himself intrigued by her strength and determination. Over time, his interest evolves from strategic advantage to a deeper, personal connection.

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CHAPTER 29 - The 5 Stages of Drinking Alone

That night marked the second time you had cooked for Sukuna.

The rich aroma of stir-fried beef and vegetables simmering in a spicy, savory sauce prickled at your nose as you set the knife down on the counter with a soft clink.

You tuned the faucet, letting the hot water run over your hands, so lost in thought that you hardly noticed the heat nearly burning the tips of your fingers.

The whole day you'd been mulling over how comfortable this all felt, how familiar—when it absolutely shouldn't.

You had put in a lot of effort, going as far as preparing an assortment of side dishes that you had meticulously arranged on the coffee table. And honestly, it was mostly due to the thrill of finally eating something other than overly salted, greasy takeout for the first time in days.

But there was also the fact that you would be sharing this meal with Sukuna...

Let’s just say you didn’t hate the idea.

It was ridiculous, really—you didn’t even know if he was serious about you keeping your end of the bargain. Yet, the desire to impress him was so persistent, so undeniable. You imagined his brows unfurling, his hands unclenching, his eyes widening slightly in surprise at the taste. You wanted him to soften toward you, to see you.

You craved it so intensely that you barely felt guilty about cooking for a monster like him, using ingredients bought with stolen money, in an apartment where you were essentially confined.

And you hated him for that, you truly did.

Though, perhaps it wasn’t even him you hated, but rather, the impenetrable block of ice around him. Or even more fittingly—the raging fire that burned everything in its way.

You knew extinguishing that fire was an impossible dream, a goal forever out of reach. But maybe, you could contain it, shrink it from a forest blaze into something smaller, something more manageable, like a house fire. Maybe then, wanting him wouldn’t seem so foolish. Maybe then, reaching for him wouldn’t feel so impossible.

They do say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, so it was worth a shot, right?

You left the pan on a low simmer as you waited for Sukuna. Despite his completely erratic personality, you'd noticed over the past few days that he returned home at almost exactly 8 p.m. every night.

So you'd started preparing about an hour in advance, and sure enough, at five minutes past eight, the door swung open.

Sukuna walked in, with a black undershirt clinging to his muscular frame, and his robe slung casually over his shoulder. He sniffed the air, his gaze tracking down the source of the aroma. As his eyes landed on the bowls and plates you had arranged on the small table before the couch, his brow arched in surprise.

Maybe he hadn’t expected you to follow through on your promise. Hell, maybe he didn’t even want you to. The sudden rush of anxiety that came over you was laughable. You hated how easily he could make you feel like this—anxious, second-guessing yourself.

From the corner of your eye, you tracked his movements as he strode past the kitchen, completely ignoring you. Without a word, he disappeared into his 'quarters,' slamming the door shut behind him.

You cringed. Great. This was embarrassing, but you weren't going to let him ruin this for you. You deserved to enjoy this meal with or without him.

Grabbing the kitchen tongs, you scooped a generous serving into your bowl of rice. But just as you were about to sit down, the door creaked open once more.

Sukuna reappeared, now without the robe over his shoulder, and—curiously—carrying two silk pillows in his hands. You watched him, uncertain of what to expect, as he placed a pillow on either side of the coffee table. Then, with a gracious movement, he crouched down and settled onto one.

“Are you done yet? The smell’s tolerable, I suppose.” he grumbled, eyes narrowing at you in what was probably his version of an invitation.

Your lips quirked up in surprise. So, he was joining you after all.

You quickly loaded another bowl with rice and beef, walking it over to the table and setting it down in front of him. He sat casually with one knee pulled up, and the other leg stretched out under the table, his calf brushing against your designated pillow.

You sat down opposite to him, cautious to avoid touching his leg, as you waited for him to take the first bite.

When he raised the chopsticks to his mouth, you couldn't help but notice the way his arm flexed with the movement, his muscles thick and well-defined under his tattoos. It was... distracting, to say the least.

And in your distraction, you almost missed it—the subtle shift in his expression as he chewed. How his brows relaxed, how his eyes seemed to brighten, ever so slightly. It was nearly imperceptible, but you'd spent enough time studying his face to catch even the smallest change.

You smiled to yourself, only for him to snap back to his usual self, glaring at you as his grip tightened on the chopsticks in his hand. “What are you laughing at, woman?”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing. Just wondering if you liked it, that’s all.”

You leaned back, intending to rest your hand on the floor behind you, but instead, your palm landed on something warm—Sukuna’s ankle.

Fuck, of all things.

You jerked your hand back in shock, knocking your chopsticks to the ground in the process.

“Ah, I—” Flustered, you quickly ducked under the table to retrieve them. But as luck would have it, the chopsticks had rolled in the most unfortunate direction—about ten inches away from Sukuna’s... well, his crotch.

You swallowed, trying to stay calm, and reached for the chopsticks without drawing any attention. But when you finally grabbed them, your eyes involuntarily flicked up—and... there it was, staring you in the face. The fabric of his pants stretched over him, outlining everything.

Oh.

You quickly looked away, cheeks burning.

If that’s how he looked soft, then—no. You were not going to go there. You were not some kind of depraved pervert.

Clearing your throat, you slid back up, holding up the chopsticks to emphasize that they were the reason you'd disappeared under the table for a good minute. "Uh, sorry about that," you mumbled.

Sukuna, however, seemed entirely unfazed, already back to devouring his meal, side dishes included. Did anything embarrass this man?

Probably not.

He was such an odd creature.

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In the days that followed, life became a touch more engaging, with a wider array of options to fill the endless hours of this painfully dull house arrest.

With Sukuna’s permission, you'd ventured a block beyond your set limits to the grocery store, where you picked up a cheap TV from the electronics department at the mall along with a handful of DVDs.

Using such a large amount of stolen money at the checkout felt morally questionable, but given everything you’d been through, a small bit of comfort wasn’t a crime, was it?

Now, your daily routine included trips to the supermarket, afternoons spent watching cliché movies, and evenings cooking dinner for you and Sukuna.

Those dinners were mostly spent in silence—Sukuna wasn’t much of a conversationalist at the table—but every now and then, he’d grace you with what passed for a compliment in his book: “This doesn’t taste as terrible as it looks.” “I’ve had worse.” “I suppose you’re good for cooking, at least.”

It was progress, wasn't it?

After dinner—came training. As brutal as ever, Sukuna never went easy on you, but at least you were getting better. Your cursed energy was slowly returning to its former level, and you were regaining control, little by little.

Three more days passed in this relative peace, but you were still desperately counting the days until Sukuna’s promised 'reconsideration'. While you had adapted to the routine, you still felt like a dog in a cage—it wasn’t really living.

You missed your friends, your parents, and all the people you cared about. The guilt of hurting them gnawed at you, especially in the quiet moments...

This particular afternoon, you found yourself sprawled across the couch, legs dangling over the armrest, half-watching a predictable romance movie on the new TV. While the plot was utterly, utterly cliché, the male lead didn’t look half bad, so you were content enough to keep watching.

Sukuna had spent the morning holed up in the basement, a change from his usual habit of disappearing elsewhere. You couldn’t help but wonder what kept him busy down there, but you knew better than to ask. It wasn’t worth the trouble—he’d just snap at you for prying.

The movie was nearing its climax, the moment where the estranged lovers were finally about to reunite after years of heart-wrenching separation. But right then the familiar, heavy thud of Sukuna’s footsteps on the basement stairs pulled your attention away from the screen.

He strode into the kitchen, grabbed his keys off the counter, and headed toward the door. But along the way, he paused, his hands slipping into his pockets as his attention drew towards the scene on screen.

The male lead was in the midst of his grand declaration, confessing how his lover had haunted his thoughts in her absence, how his face burned whenever she was near, how his chest tightened, making it hard to breathe unless she was in his arms. Classic, over-the-top romance movie stuff.

You braced yourself, anticipating Sukuna to scoff or hurl an insult from behind the couch. But instead, he appeared... reluctantly intrigued.

His gaze flicked from the screen to you, and he pulled a hand from his pocket, pointing it toward the scene. “What’s this garbage?" he asked, his voice difficult to read. “That scrawny idiot... what’s he blathering about?”

You nearly laughed out loud. Of course—Sukuna had probably never sat through a romance movie in his thousand-year existence. But to not even recognize what was happening? That was rich. You stifled the chuckle threatening to break free as you replied, “It’s a romance movie. He’s confessing his love to her.”

“Hmph,” Sukuna grunted, his jaw tightening as he averted his gaze. His fingers tugged at the fabric near his chest, and he muttered under his breath, “Sounds more like he’s describing a curse.”

You smirked at the odd observation. You certainly considered your crush on Sukuna to be somewhat of a curse, so you didn’t argue. “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” you said, shifting to sit up.

Right then, the characters on screen leaned in for a dramatic, passionate kiss—the kind of lip-smacking, moaning kiss that would make anyone flush with embarrassment, and that was especially true with Sukuna standing right behind you.

You reached for the remote to switch it off, but before you could press the button, he interjected with another remark.

“I’ve never grasped why you brainless pigs bother with that,” he spat with disdain. “When I took my concubines, I didn’t waste time on pointless gestures. Fucking is a necessity—like food, combat, or breathing. Nothing more. Why complicate the matter?”

You nearly choked. Not only had Sukuna casually brought up his sex life, but he also managed to sound like the most emotionally stunted man alive while doing it. You turned to face him, unable to contain your lecture about how narrow-minded of an opinion that was.

“It’s more than just 'fucking.' It’s about knowing every part of each other—touching, feeling, connecting... You wouldn’t understand.”

He cackled, dragging a hand through his hair. “That sounds ridiculous.” And with that, he turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him.

You sighed deeply, sinking into the couch cushions. That man was impossible. But no matter how much he grated on your nerves, you couldn’t get him out of your head.

With a groan, you grabbed your phone, determined to focus on anything else.

You pressed the button on the side, waiting for the screen to light up. With squinted eyes, you quickly punched in your password, deliberately avoiding the missed calls and messages from your mom. You couldn’t handle that pain right now.

You opened your feed, scrolling through the endless recipes in search of inspiration for dinner. Cooking for someone else—even if that certain someone didn’t bother to pretend he appreciated it—had somehow reignited your love for it. It gave you a sense of control, turning the lost time locked away into something... slightly meaningful.

After sifting through a bunch of bland or overly complicated dinner ideas, you landed on a recipe for a mouth-watering mushroom risotto.

Perfect.

You copied the ingredients into your notes and grabbed your coat for a quick grocery run.

The walk was short, and soon enough, you found yourself wandering the aisles, hunting down rice, mushrooms, parmesan cheese, and a bottle of cheap white wine. To your delight, there was a buy-one-get-one-free deal on the latter, and, well, you weren’t one to turn down a bargain.

Back home, you unpacked, took a long, hot shower, and began preparing dinner. The risotto simmered gently over low heat in the pan as you poured yourself a glass of wine—the bottle was already uncorked for the recipe, so why not indulge?

By the time the risotto was finished, it was perfectly creamy and fragrant, with just the right consistency, and just in time for Sukuna’s expected arrival. You sank into the couch with your glass, basking in the satisfaction of a job well done.

But as the minutes ticked by, your satisfaction slowly began to fade.

8:10 PM. Nothing.

8:30 PM. Still nothing.

By 9:30 PM, you were starving and long past the point of caring. You stomped into the kitchen and scooped a generous portion unto your plate—more than half, because screw him. You weren’t going to wait around for someone who clearly didn’t give a damn.

As you wolfed down the risotto, the exquisite taste was drowned out by the disappointment gnawing at you. It wasn’t just about having to eat dinner alone—you were used to that, having grown up with parents who were always away for work.

No, it was the fact that you had put effort into this, that you’d wanted to impress him, even if you hated admitting that to yourself.

You’d wanted one of his backhanded compliments. One of those smug remarks that somehow managed to make your heart thump in your chest. Instead, you were left with cold food and an even colder sense of rejection.

After finishing your plate, you dumped it in the sink, the half-empty wine bottle catching your eye. Well... if he wasn’t here tonight, you might as well enjoy the evening, right?

That stupid decision marked the beginning of the familiar 5 stages of getting drunk alone.

Stage one: Anger.

You grabbed the bottle and took a few bold swigs straight from it. “Who the hell does he think he is? Some kind of king?” you muttered, pacing the room with the bottle in hand. “Fucking idiot. He could’ve at least let me know he wasn’t going to join for dinner.”

With your free hand, you scrolled through your phone, looking for music to match your mood. You cranked the volume up, letting the pounding bass and angry vocals blast through the apartment.

By the time you emptied the first bottle, you were drained. You collapsed onto the couch, the playlist fading into the next, as if on cue; A mix of heart-wrenching ballads.

Which led to stage two: Sadness.

Your near-death experience, failing Ayumi, the guilt, the fear, the unanswered calls from your parents and friends—it It was like a dam broke, and you couldnt control the outbreak of tears. It wasn't the dignified kind of crying, either—no, this was the ugly, snotty, full-body sobbing that only seemed to happen when you’d had just enough alcohol to stop caring how you looked.

By the time the sobbing subsided, your face was puffy, your eyes swollen, and your sleeves tear-stained.

And that’s when stage three hit: Desperation.

Suddenly, you scrambled off the couch, horrified at the thought of Sukuna walking in and seeing you like this—like a complete wreck.

No way. Not happening.

You rushed to the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water, changing into something more flattering, something less… tear-soaked. You brushed your hair, checking your reflection until you looked somewhat presentable again.

Good. Crisis averted.

But when you stepped back out, your eyes drifted to the second bottle of wine still sitting on the countertop, staring you down...

Maybe just one more glass wouldn't hurt?

You poured yourself a generous serving and settled back onto the couch, opening your phone's selfie cam to ensure you still looked decent.

But just as you raised your glass to take the first sip, the sound of a key slipping into the lock startled you. Your phone nearly slipped from your hand, and you quickly sat up straight.

Sukuna stepped in, blood splattered on his clothes—more than usual.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised to see you still awake, before his gaze shifted to the wine glass in your hand and then to the empty bottle on the floor.

You knew that look. He was about to say something snide, some smug comment you weren’t in the mood for. So before he could get a word out, you beat him to it.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up. You could’ve at least told me you weren’t going to be here for dinner.” you hissed.

Sukuna huffed, clearly unimpressed as he tossed his keys onto the counter. His eyes flicked toward the stove where the risotto sat, cooled to a lukewarm temperature. He removed the lid and took in the smell, completely ignoring your remark.

“Hey!” you snapped, your frustration reaching a boiling point. “You could at least explain yourself! Or say sorry!”

He turned, red eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of the apartment. “Huh? I don’t owe you a damn thing,” he said, his voice a low, condescending growl. “As I recall, you're merely a tool in my arsenal, not my wife.”

The audacity.

You marched over to the kitchen, standing beside him as he casually grabbed a plate and served himself some risotto, completely oblivious to your anger.

“A tool?” You seethed. “Fuck you, Sukuna, I’m a human being.”

He didn’t even glance at you. “Exactly. You're an insignificant human. That's why you're owed nothing. I don't answer to humans. Or to anyone, for that matter.”

You clenched your fists, barely containing your booze-fueled fury. But even in your drunken state, you knew there was no point in arguing with him. With a huff, you stomped back to the couch and took a long drink from your glass.

To your surprise, Sukuna sat down beside you with his plate in hand. You shot him a sideways glance, irritated by his presence yet unable to resist gauging his reaction to the dish.

But instead of reaching for his first bite, Sukuna suddenly lunged towards you, roughly snatching the glass of wine from your hand. “You're intoxicated. Put down the wine, fool.”

Oh, so now he was sticking his nose into your business? You quickly yanked the glass back from him, the liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. For a brief moment, he looked a little humbled that you’d caught him off guard, but that expression quickly vanished, replaced by a deep, dangerous scowl. He slammed his plate down on the coffee table with a sharp clatter, clearly gearing up for a fight.

Well, he was in for one.

You defiantly gulped down another mouthful of wine, but Sukuna was fast. He seized the glass once more, gripping it so tightly you were surprised it didn’t shatter in his hand.

He shot you a deadly glare, a final warning that he wasn’t joking. But you couldn't care less. You reached out with your right hand as a distraction, and when he moved the glass away, you intercepted with your left, convinced you’d outsmarted him.

But of course, Sukuna’s speed and strength were far superior to your little trick. Your own fault for forgetting who you were up against... In an instant, he snatched your wrist, forcing you to let go when your bones crunched together.

As the glass slipped from your fingers, the wine splattered all across your chest, completely soaking your white shirt.

“Ugh, look what you did!” you snapped, wrenching your hand free from his grasp.

Sukuna shrugged, clearly of the opinion that you’d invited this disaster upon yourself. He tossed the glass over his shoulder, where it shattered against the floor in a million pieces.

Though you barely registered the sound, too busy fumbling with your drenched shirt. It clung to your skin, sticky and cold, while the sour smell of wine wafted up and overwhelmed your senses.

It was gross.

And so, in a bold move you would have never—ever—considered sober, you decided that if Sukuna had already seen you naked, what difference did it make if he saw you in just a bra?

Completely oblivious to how inappropriate this was under the influence of so much wine, you grabbed the edges of your damp shirt and peeled it off over your head.

Sukuna caught the whole thing and didn’t bother to look away. For a brief second, the corner of his mouth twitched, a certain curiosity battling against his usual indifference. But just as quickly, he masked it, settling back into his stone-cold facade as he let out a soft, irritated groan.

You shot him a glare, gripping the wet shirt tightly in your hand. "What are you staring at? It’s nothing new, right? ‘Nothing special’ ?”

His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightened—as if he were barely restraining himself from punishing you for that attitude. But instead of rising to the bait, he turned his gaze away and dug his nails deep into the armrest.

Meanwhile, you got busy wiping the remaining wine from your chest and hands with the dry part of your shirt, your thoughts muddled as the effects of that last glass of wine hit you—hard.

In your haze, you failed to notice Sukuna bending over to reach for his plate on the coffee table. And without a second thought, you tossed the wine-soaked shirt aside, completely unaware he was directly in the line of fire.

In a most cruel twist of fate... the shirt landed right on his face.

You froze.

In an instant, the athmosphere shifted. Sukuna's aura darkened and it was as if a thunderstorm had suddenly eclipsed every ray of light. His hand curled into a claw as he peeled the shirt from his face, revealing his eyes.

They were burning... fiery red flames.

You could barely discern his words through the gutteral growl that ripped from his throat. "Oh, you've done it now, little sorcerer."

Before you could blink, he had you pinned down against the couch, his large hand gripping your jaw so tight it was impossible to move. The sharp tips of his nails bit into your cheeks, and his musky scent mingled with the lingering remnants of spilled wine.

His chest pressed down against yours, the weight of him pushing you into the cushions. You felt the straps of your bra strain under the pressure, barely holding your squashed boobs in place.

Trapped like that and utterly at his mercy, you should’ve been scared—terrified, even—but instead... the next stage of drunkenness decided to hit.

Stage 4: Lust.

Each breath, each shift of his body caused a shot of adrenaline to rush through your veins, but not from fear—no, it was excitement. The kind that made your heart race, your body flush, and your skin tingle. The electrifying kind that made you look away because you knew that if you met his gaze... you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the distance between your lips and his.

He hovered so close above you that his warm breath brushed your skin when he hissed through gritted teeth, “You truly believe you can escape any consequences, don’t you, you foolish brat?”

Sukuna tightened his grip on your jaw, and you could sense the raw strength of his hand—how easily he could crush your entire skull with it.

But the fact that he chose not to… oh, that was exhilarating.

"Look at me," he snarled. His whole presence exuding such an overwhelming authority that your body obeyed before your mind could process.

Your gaze shot up to meet his, and the moment your eyes locked—something in you snapped. A heat rose in your core, and you pushed your body against his, overcome with a sudden desperate need to be closer to him.

Sukuna’s eyes widened—not in anger, but in surprise. The fact that you weren’t trembling or shrinking away like a coward, but instead leaning into him, fascinated him in a way that was completely foreign. It was like a spell—a curse—had taken hold, and he couldn't stop himself from pushing back, his hips grinding into your lower belly.

His grip on your jaw was now so tight, that it forced your teeth apart... You looked up at him through your dark lashes, a red-hot glow spreading across your cheeks

And then the most unexpected thing happened.

Sukuna’s mouth crashed down on yours, leaving you utterly breathless. His hot, wet tongue pushed past your lips, claiming you in a way that was beyond overwhelming.

He wasn’t just kissing you; he was devouring you, forcing your attention on him and him alone.

You gasped against his mouth, unable to keep up with the intensity as his free hand slipped to the back of your head, roughly yanking on a fistful of hair and pulling you closer. He was demanding your lips stay locked with his, while his tongue explored every single corner of you.

It was as if he’d taken your words from this afternoon fully to heart: 'It’s about knowing every part of each other.'

The sharp tug of his nails at your scalp, the crushing weight of his body pressing you deeper into the couch, and his pointy corner teeth grazing your lips with every attempt to invade deeper—to the point of drawing little droplets of blood.

It was clear that he kissed in the same way he fought—cruel, harsh, and unrelenting.

Your chest heaved as you fought to get a breath in between the frantic meeting of your mouths. Your arms and legs beginning to tremble from the intimate skin-to-skin contact against a man so loaded with cursed energy.

“Sukuna—can't—breathe,” you managed to moan against his lips, your voice barely audible between the lewd, wet sounds of your mouths colliding... But instead of pulling away, he pulled you closer still, tugging your hair once more as he sucked on the tip of your tongue.

Until he finally pulled back, leaving a thin string of saliva connecting you as you both gasped for air.

Sukuna wiped the slick from his lips with the back of his hand, shifting his eyes away from you, as if he couldn't face what had just happened. His flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the ragged rise and fall of his chest made him look.... unmistakably human right now, despite how hard he pretended to be otherwise.

You swallowed, heart still pounding in your chest. Unable to get your voice above a whisper to ask him. “Are you oka—”

But he shut you up before you could finish, slapping his palm over your mouth. His left hand, still tangled in your hair, yanked harder, forcing your head back as his lips found your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, nipping as he moved down until they met your collarbone.

He slowly dragged his tongue along the skin, causing a low moan to escape you from under his hand, before he continued his trail.

When he reached the top of your breasts, just above the edge of your bra where they spilled over, the nipping turned into harsh bites. This was his way of releasing his anger—of punishing you, without having to kill you...

Your body jerked under the sharp pain, your hips arching against him as a low, dangerous growl rumbled from his throat.

You felt his cock harden at his crotch and push into your belly with a tantalizing force. The earlier encounter under the coffee table had already given you a faint idea of his size but damn—this was even more impressive...

The damp heat of your breath, trapped beneath his hand, started to mirror the growing warmth between your legs. It left you shifting uncomfortably, rubbing your thighs together in a futile attempt to relieve the ache building inside you.

Then, suddenly, Sukuna released his hand from your mouth, allowing you only a second to recover before his lips were back on yours—this time softer, giving you some space to breathe. It was no less intense but tender in a way, if you could call anything he did that.

His tongue danced with yours, finally letting you match his rhythm. Caught up in that flow, you managed to free a shaky hand from beneath his weight and slide it behind his neck, pulling him closer.

But as you did, his body tensed, and without warning, Sukuna tore himself away from you. The cool air of the apartment touching your skin where he had been before, leaving you cold and exposed.

A horrible, empty feeling.

“Hey,” you called out, brushing a strand of sweaty hair behind your ear. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer. He only growled as he rose to his feet and kicked the empty wine bottle beside the table with enough force to send it crashing into the wall, shattering into pieces.

You pushed yourself up, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable as the flush of drunken confidence faded. You instinctively covered your bra with your arms.

And just like that, you’d reached the fifth, and final stage of your drunken odyssey: Regret.

Sukuna's back was still turned towards you, and his fists were clenched tight at his sides. You knew you'd crossed a line, and now everything had changed.

What if he hated it? What if he hated you?

You could sense he was about to speak, but the thought of hearing those words from his mouth—of him closing off any opening, if there ever was one—was too much for you to bear. Desperate to avoid that outcome, you blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

“This was stupid. We shouldn’t have done that. Let’s just… forget it, okay?”

Once again, Sukuna didn’t respond. He didn’t even turn around. He simply... walked to the front door, opened it and disappeared into the cold night air—without a single word.

And you? You were left alone, with the shards of broken glass on the floor, the plate of risotto still untouched on the table—now as devoid of warmth as you were.

And worst of all? He never even got to taste it.

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Okay hope y'all enjoyed that extra long, extra juicy chapter imma leave you with that 🫡

Taglist: @sukunasthightattoos , @tomiokasecretlover , @6demonize6me6 , @blindbabycadder , @domainofmarie , @marcoschuitmaker , @geniejunn , @chanaaaannel , @nessca153

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[nekohime19]

Heart behind the lie # 13 : end of the dream

Wukong reveal the truth

TW : Depressive thoughts

He was supposed to be a pillar, the weapon wielded against the strong, made of the sturdiest stones, and filled with the mightiest of blood. He was a King, the protector of a land, of a tribe, the defender of the monkeys. He was a sage, the one that gained enlightenment, that stood equal to heaven, and some would even say above it. Sun Wukong wasn't supposed to be this frail, to flee like a coward the second his lies unraveled. To hide away, curled inside of a cave, veiled by the raging storm and the blooming thunder. 

But it didn't matter how many times he tried to lie to himself, Sun Wukong knew that under all his fancy monikers, all his empty glory, laid a bleeding heart, weak enough to shatter at the slightest of touch. He wished for his heart to be of gold, like many believed it was. For this pitiful, crying organ to be coated in liquid metal, so it could be still, and devoid of unnecessary feelings. But his heart was made of blood, and he was unable to harden it enough to keep fear at bay. 

He was doomed to live at the whims of his own feelings. 

Sun Wukong was old, tired by time itself, too tired to fight against the onslaught of tears surging in his eyes. He didn't have the strength to keep them inside of him, he didn't have the will to repress the feelings tormenting his heart. So he cried as if he was dying, maybe some part of him was, the part that basked in the warrior's fondness, for he knew it would be nothing but wishful thinking from now on. Macaque would never treat him that way again, he would disappear in his shadows with a scornful face (maybe he already did), and his love would remain unattainable. It would've been better, perhaps, if he never knew how the other smiled, how his fingers felt in his fur, how his purr sounded like, how he woke up after the first rays of light. It would've been better if he kept fooling himself with lies, if he never knew the shape of the warrior's heart. 

How was he supposed to live with this longing?

The sobs racking his throat were like earthquakes, they seized his entire body, made him tremble and cower in the shadows of the cave. He couldn't recognize his own voice, the wails sounded wrong, something unnatural, something that shouldn't pass his lips, that shouldn't even exist. His heart hurt, abused by his own feelings, eaten by fear, drowned by sorrow, pierced by anger, the pathetic organ struggled to even beat properly. 

Sun Wukong dived further in his knees, face hidden by his arms, tail tied around his own leg, he looked like a shaking newborn, afraid of the air itself, of the world around him, wanting to curl and take the least space possible. Some selfish part of him wanted to disappear, to never face the disappointment of his mentee, and of his ex-best friend. He prayed for someone to wipe away his whole existence, to let him rest, to let him bask in the peace he had longed for all his life. But no-one was kind enough to fulfill his wish. It wasn't surprising in itself, which god would be mad enough to lean over the pathetic monkey drowning in his own tears and decide to grant him mercy? He was doomed to wallow in pain until someone found him, a fitting punishment for the fool he was. 

He spent hours there, not even moving an inch, curled upon himself as if everything around him was made to hurt him. He found himself pathetic, to react like that, to cry and shiver as if he was a cub. It was like he was back inside of his mind, back where he cowered behind his walls, unable, unwilling to face the world. How the mighty have fallen, what would the ones that admired him would say? What would the ones that feared him would say? He was not the gold coated legend they hoped for, he was not the ruthless mightiest monster they despised, everything about him was a well-made lie. He was nothing but a monkey, and he hated that, he wanted to be more than that. He wanted glory and power, he wanted love and wisdom, he wanted to be seen, to exist in the eyes of others. But his nature always caught up with him. 

In the end, this is what he was : a scared beast. 

"Monkey King?" The sage jolted, he looked around and his breath hitched, MK was there. The kid looked like a mess, soaked wet, eyes reddened by uncried tears and breath stuttering. The King sprang on his feet and wiped away his tears, trying to look like everything was fine, when everything felt like it was crumbling. MK sat beside him and took a few seconds to catch his breath. "I was so worried, Macaque is still looking for you."

The King gulped, trying to gather himself, and failing to do so. Everything around him felt wrong. 

"Are you…are you awake ?"Mumbled the kid, he put his head on his knees, eyes lost in the storm. "Not like, awake as in you just woke up but… are you actually there?" MK's voice was tentative, as if voicing his desire any louder would be a sin. It shattered Sun Wukong's heart to see him so meek. He hated himself for daring to make his kid worry, he hated himself for daring thinking of lying again, for being happy that his lies were not fully discovered. "Maybe I'm just delusional, but I swore I saw… I swore I saw your magic being all calm and controlled, like it was when you were… there. It was a mess these last months after the LBD fight, but now it's… normal." MK looked at him, gaze searching, he turned away after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence."Forget it, it's nothing, I'm just desperate."

"I’m sorry." Croaked the sage, voice rough, abused by his prolonged silence. Unable to keep lying after seeing his mentee hurt this much. It felt good, in a way, to apologize for his lies, it soothed something inside of him. 

"You're really–" MK lightened up as if someone just gifted him the moon. His joyous face dimmed slightly after a few seconds. "Did… did you just wake up or…" and this was the dooming question, wasn't it. But Sun Wukong didn't want to lie, he lied enough to this boy. 

"I have been for two weeks and a few days." The silence following his confession was daunting, it was as if MK was trying to process his words, to understand the meaning behind them, it was unnerving. 

"Two weeks ?" Whispered the boy, gaze dimmed by thoughts. 

"I…" the sage gulped, words on the tip of his tongue. But admitting his own weakness, especially to the boy he was supposed to protect, was daunting. "It felt good to be… cared for."

"Good? Why do you mean–"the kid cut himself, eyes widening in realization. "Gods, you’re both messes."

"I'm sorry."

"I…Monkey King you have to tell Macaque. He's still searching for you, he doesn't-"

"He doesn't know I'm back." Cut the sage with a tight voice. He felt disgusted with himself to ever be happy about this fact, about selfishly keeping the warrior in the dark. It was comforting to know Macaque didn't learn of his lies through another, but it also meant he would be the one to tell him. And even if some part of him wanted to keep lying, mayhaps to pretend he only just woke up, he knew it would only hurt them more. In his long years of living, he learnt that the truth wasn't something you could hide forever. 

"No…"Sighed the kid. "You gotta tell him, it’ll be worse if you wait, trust me." 

"Yeah, yeah I know. I never wanted to lie for so long, but he was so… It’s been a long time since he was like this with me."

"Hm, well maybe you can try to patch things up with him." Suggested the kid with a hopeful gaze. 

"It's not gonna work, bud."

"You didn't even try."

"I know it's useless. He hates me, he doesn't want to be here."

"And how are you so sure about that?" Replied MK. "He treats you so well now, it has to mean something."

"He… doesn't know that I'm me, it's not the same."

"So you think he's just gonna… disappear if you reveal the truth?"

"Essentially yes. He made it very clear that Flower Fruit Mountain is not his home and that he doesn't want to be here." Mumbled the King, mind drifting to all the times Macaque came to demand blood. 

"Not his ho- how can this misunderstanding even exist !?" Groaned the kid. "Look, I'm not supposed to tell you that, and Macaque will be super mad if he learns of this, but trust me when I say that Macaque wants to be here. If anything he's afraid you're going to kick him out. You want him to stay, and he wants to stay, you see where I'm going with this ?"

" I somehow doubt he feels like that."

"Come on! You're kidding me. Just try, besides you can't keep lying, you know that, right ?"

"I know, it's just, maybe it'll be easier for everybody if I keep lying." Sighed the sage.

"Monkey King you… you know you can't keep lying forever, Macaque is gonna catch up, and he's gonna be more mad if he realizes what’s going on without you telling him."

"Sorry." Mumbled the King, he turned away, unable to gaze at the kid's hopeful face. 

"Look, I won't tell you things will turn out fine, because I honestly don't know how things will turn out. But if you're honest with him, I'm sure there will be hope."

"I mean, how can I even be honest?" Sadly chuckled the golden monkey, he rose slightly and cleared his throat. "“Hey Macaque, so you know the last two weeks you think I was behaving? Turns out I was awake the whole time! Also I love your belly scratches, you think you can give me some now?”, it's not gonna work."

"Okay, yeah, maybe don't talk about the belly scratches, not now." Giggled the kid, his dimmed smile slightly lightened up by his foolish act.

"I mean those belly scratches are soooo good." Chuckled the sage, happy to see his kid being a bit more joyous. 

"The Monkey King, addicted to belly scratches."

"To Macaque's belly scratches, nuance." Corrected the sage, MK barked a laugh, eyes crooked like moon crescents. Sun Wukong smiled softly, he sighed when he recalled the memories that flooded him when he pushed the kid away. He hoped they weren't true, he hoped they were nothing but twisted illusions conjured up by his sick mind. "Hey bud, did I ever…hurt you… when I was “asleep”?" MK flinched, arms immediately tightening. 

"No…" Sun Wukong knew it was a lie, but he decided to not prie for now, this sort of thing needed delicacy, and he was too emotionally vulnerable to deal with it. 

"Can I have… a last few hours before I tell him ?" Asked the sage with a frail voice, almost unheard. 

"You know this will be harder if you-"

"I know, I just wanna show him a place. And I'm not sure he will still be there if I…" 

"Okay… But I will call Macaque tomorrow morning." Warned the kid, trying to look stern, and failing at it. 

"Yeah, thanks bud." 

"Your welcome, and Monkey King…" 

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're back." Mumbled MK as he threw himself at the sage and tightly hugged him, almost as if Wukong could disappear if he didn't hold him tight enough. 

"…thanks, I'm glad to be back too. I'm sorry I left you alone." Whispered the sage as he nuzzled the boy, losing himself in the familiar scent. Despite all his lies, all his hurting, this was the truth. He was glad to be back, he was glad to be able to hug his kid. 

They spent a long time there, tightly glued to one another, hidden in the shadows as the sky, outside, cleared itself. Macaque found them after a bit, fur all over the place, breath struggling to pass his lips. MK awkwardly loosened his hold on the King and backed away a little. 

"You're both safe." Sighed the macaque, tension fading away from his body. 

"Yeah, hm, I'm gonna go home." Suddenly blurted the boy, Macaque looked at him with a raised eyebrow and MK stuttered. "I have… things to do? Anyway, I'll call you tomorrow morning! Promise. Love ya, bye!" Screamed the boy as he ran outside, throwing a thumbs up at his mentor on his way. 

"This was...weird." Mumbled the macaque, he turned towards the sage and narrowed his gaze. "Why did you leave like that? You're okay?"

The sage took a deep breath, he chirped, a soft thing, meant to be reassuring, but it came out shaky and unsure. Macaque crouched in front of him and carefully looked for any sign of injury, Sun Wukong eagerly leaned in each touch, knowing very well it could be the last time he ever felt his moon warm hands on him. The sage tied his tail on the warrior's wrist and guided him outside. There was a place Macaque needed to see, a place Sun Wukong avoided for eons, somewhere hidden, inside his mountain, only tended by clones. 

Macaque followed him, confused, letting out two or three stuttering chirps here and there. But the sage was unrelenting, he needed to guide the warrior there, he needed him to see that place before telling the truth (before watching him disappear forever). 

They walked through forests and meadows, reaching one of the mountain outskirt. Macaque eyes narrowed the more they walked, perhaps recognizing the place, it was one of his favorites after all (before it was drowned by fire). Sun Wukong has spent a lot of time trying to save the place, replanting trees and healing the soil, trying to give it the splendor that it once possessed. Sun Wukong slowed a little when they began to reach the orchard, his own heart beating frantically, his steps stuttering more and more. He came here often, before the attack in heaven, spending days lazing around in the trees, eating the fresh picked fruits. It was one of the first places that fell prey to Erlang's fire (according to his subjects), the place where they suffered the most casualties. 

The beautiful thriving orchard became a cemetery of monkeys. When Sun Wukong granted immortality to his subjects he foolishly forgot that newer subjects will always be born, ones that wouldn't be able to escape death. He always felt like he failed them. How did they feel ? Them that only heard about their King through legends and tales, that heard about his gentleness, about his braveness, about his foolishness. Them that looked at the immortal elders with awe, hoping that the King would return to grant them the same blessing. How did they feel when death fell upon death ? Did they think he abandoned them ? Did they think they were not worthy of immortality compared to the elders ? 

When he learned of Erlang's fire, of the deaths of hundreds of monkeys he didn't even know, he realized that he was not fit to be the King of monkeys. He granted immortality without realizing his troop would never be static, that life would never stop flowing, and as such, if he gave immortality to each newborn, a time would come when the mountain would not be enough to sustain them. He divided his troop between the immortal ones, doomed to be outside of nature itself, of watching the others die, and the mortal ones, doomed to question why they weren't the chosen ones, to doubt the love their King held for them. How did you explain to a dying monkey that you couldn't grant them immortality ? How did you explain the lack of resources, the lack of places? How did you explain that their death was needed when you could see the fear inside of their eyes ? He was unable to provide for all of them. His youthful mistake would follow him forever, crushing him, reminding him he wasn't fit to be King but he didn't have the luxury to flee the crown. 

The topic of immortality was taboo inside of his troop for a reason. Sun Wukong made sure to be there for each death, watching each little sun burn out, but he wasn't brave enough to be there for each burial. This orchard was a cemetery of his failures (Ba tree was somewhere here), and the only thing he could do was to keep it untouched and everlasting, a sumptuous bed for the bravest of his little suns. 

The orchard was guarded by two clones, they sat in front of the colorful trees and the flowering soil, weapons in hands. They let them pass when they caught the gaze of the King. Macaque was silent, following in his footsteps quietly, perhaps only realizing what this place had become. Each tree was well-loved and brimming with life, each carved with a name, sometimes with light-hearted drawings, or the paws of a particular monkey (one close to the deceased). The orchard wasn't little, it extended in all directions, a forest of peace made for rest. 

Sun Wukong guided him inside of the orchard until they stopped before the oldest tree,the first Sun Wukong planted, a mango tree. 

Incense sticks were lightened and planted at the roots of the tree, something not unusual here, the place was veiled by the smell of flowers and incense, surely the work of one of the clones that were made to tend to the place. Macaque approached the tree and sat in front of it, Sun Wukong sat at his side. 

“BELOVED WARRIOR-LIU'ER MIHOU” was carved in the tree trunk, besides the handprints of a lot of monkeys (his own lost among the others). There was a time when Mihou's corpse was buried there, Sun Wukong was granted time after his warrior's death to return home and bury him. The corpse was no longer there when his journey ended, stolen by another. He had been enraged then, flowed by burning feelings, at the time he decided to guard this place with his life, he made clones and ordered them to guard the orchard at all costs.

He wondered now if his warrior crawled out of this place when the witch revived him, or if she stole his corpse and buried him somewhere else to prepare her wretched plans. He wondered if she stole the comfort this grave could offer, if she dumped him in the filthiest of places and made him believe nobody, not even his own troop, would organize a burial for him. 

"This is… my grave." Mumbled the macaque as he traced the carving with shaking hands. "I… I never knew I had… "Sun Wukong guessed his questions were answered by that trembling whisper, he leaned over Macaque, head falling on his shoulders, tail curling protectively around him. 

Macaque took a shaking breath and quietly watched the tree, awe filling his face. 

"Was I buried here? I didn't crawl out of here… it would've been nice." And Sun Wukong wondered from where he crawled. He hoped the witch dumped him in, at least, a decent place. But knowing her, and her way of feeding hatred, she probably threw him in the vilest places, made him believe the sage didn't care about his rest, that the troop didn't care about his rest. She always had been the kind to hurt the mind, to tear it until it bends to her will, this wouldn't be out of character for her. Sun Wukong pressed further into the warrior, almost tempted to talk, to reveal the truth, but he didn't want to fight here, not in this sacred place. 

They spent the rest of the day here, quietly watching the incense sticks burn out, until a clone approached them to plant new, fresher ones. Sun Wukong held Macaque tightly, not daring to even utter the slightest of chirp. Macaque hold was weak, but it was there, he clinged to his arms, hand loosely buried in the fabric of his shirt, and it meant the world to the sage. 

It was in the silence, in the quietness of the place, only disturbed by the soft steps of wandering clones, that they dared to cry. The sage didn't even know what he was grieving. Was it the friendship he knew was lost for eternity? Or the friend that became a stranger? Macaque was right besides him, but he felt strangely lonely, nothing could fill the void inside of him. 

He avoided the thought of Liu'er Mihou for so long, everything seemed to come down at the same time, every love-filled words unuttered, every thunder-like roars unscreamed, every poisonous insults unsaid, they all flowed upon his cheeks. 

He realized two things at the same time :

The one he loved, Liu'er Mihou, was dead. 

And he wanted to love the one who lived, the Six-eared Macaque. 

He knew what he saw of Macaque wasn't everything, he knew the scornful words and spiteful acts were a part of him as much as the sweet promises and the tender touches. He knew two and a half weeks were too little to really see someone for who they truly were. There were a lot of things he was curious about Macaque, and he knew some parts of him probably already fell (the part that fell for Mihou swooning at the similarities, the parts craving care falling for the slightest kindness), but he was ready to try. 

It was cruel to realize this now, and he was almost tempted to lie for one more day, only to bask in the revelation. But he owed the warrior the truth, he couldn't postpone this, not anymore. 

They left the orchard after a bit, each not commenting on the other tears. Sun Wukong stopped the warrior before he could retreat to the shack, the sage didn't want to have this conversation in a closed place. They settled in a quiet place, away from the orchard, the sun falling behind the sea in the back. 

Macaque opened his mouth, perhaps worried, but he shut himself up when Wukong rose on his two feets, finally seeing eye to eye with the warrior. 

"You're…" Began the warrior. 

"I'm healed." Replied Sun Wukong, he took a deep breath and looked at his moon, diving in his gaze. 

"I see… since when ?" 

"Two and a half weeks." Macaque raised an eyebrow, probably surprised by his statement. He frowned, anger blooming inside of his gaze. 

"Two and half weeks?" Repeated the macaque, each word carefully mouthed. 

"Yeah… I…" 

"Why didn't you tell me anything ?" 

"I… it felt nice." And even if it was the truth, it was probably the worst thing to say, Macaque gaze hardened, his whole face made of steel. 

"What, it felt nice to take me for a fool ?" Scoffed the warrior, voice quiet, but rising. 

"No I… I never intended to hurt you, I just… it felt good" 

"What felt good?" Sighed the warrior, face falling, as if he was defeated. "It felt good to see me fretting? I'm… Gods you saw…you weren't supposed to see me like this. Two weeks ? I'm such an idiot to be this easily fooled-" 

"It wasn't like this!" Snapped the sage, his own voice rising. "It wasn't like this…I just…you were so gentle…" 

"Did you even think of the kid ? Of how much he worried ? Of how you left him alone?" 

"Of course I did!"

"But your own selfish desires are above everything, aren't they? Same old Wukong." Scorned the warrior, arms tightly wrapped around him, eyes glistening with tears. "Did you ever think about what I felt? How much it was-" 

"How much it disgusted you!?" Cut the sage with a heaving chest. "Yeah, I thought about it! All the time, in fact. Does it disgust you that much to know the one you cared about for the last weeks was me and not some feral monkey ? Why are you so gentle with me when you're sure I won't remember a thing !? Why can't you be gentle when I'm awake…"

"Are you seriously asking that!? It should be easy to understand. Why do you think I'm not kind with you, hm, Wukong ?"

"I don't know!" Screamed the King, surprising them both. "I don't know anymore…" he repeated, more quietly. "I thought I knew Macaque, I thought you were nothing but a coward, a cruel and spiteful shadow of who you once were. But how am I supposed to believe that now that I know the way you wipe away my tears !? I'm not the one who did that, I already accepted that you would hate me forever, so seeing you care that much it just… it confused me. It felt so good, and you were so kind, and I loved it. I don't know anything anymore. Can you just…can you stay?"He asked, voice shaking, head bowed. Afraid of the answer, of the scornful reply Macaque would throw at him. Gods, he's going to laugh at his face and disappear with a flick of wrist, and this is going to be their last talk-

"… I can stay ?" His voice was so frail Sun Wukong almost didn't hear it. 

"Yes! Yes you can, t-this is your home." Immediately replied the sage, he lifted his face, a tentative hope blooming in his eyes. 

Macaque turned away, refusing to look at him. It hurted, he wanted to reach him, to hold him like he did mere hours before, but he couldn't. The space between them now wider than ever. 

"Don't follow me." Spat the warrior, he fell in one of his shadows, and the sage held his breath, only to let it go when he was certain that he could still feel the other presence on his mountain. 

Macaque didn't leave. Even if he was mad, even if he probably wouldn't want to see him again, he was still here. And it hurt to think he wouldn't be hugged anymore, he wouldn't be cared for, held like he was precious. It hurt to realize he would fall asleep alone, it wounded him to realize the dream he lived in for those last two weeks was coming to an end. But Macaque didn't leave, and for now, it was enough. It had to be if Sun Wukong didn't want to fall in despair. 

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[apenitentialprayer]

How can i truly enjoy mass? How can i make a good confession? Feeling lost man

Hey there! I'm sorry you're feeling so lost right now. I hope the Easter season brings you many blessings.

I'm going to state the obvious right off the bat; participating in the Sacraments is not always going to be an enjoyable experience. Like any activity that you do with a lot of frequency, the way you feel will ebb and flow. One of the nice things about having objective, concrete means of knowing we have been given God's grace is that we don't have to rely on feelings to know that it has occurred. It is true that the Mass, and the Eucharist in particular, is the greatest gift we will ever receive; Saint John Vianney said that if we could truly know and experience what was going on during it, we would instantly die of love. But we don't truly know and experience the Mass; so we shouldn't let a false sense of piety concerning how we "should" feel at Mass obfuscate that something is truly happening. Even if we're bored or going through the motions as it's happening.

That being said, if I could give one piece of advice that helps me "make the most" of Mass and Confession, I would give this: try to keep your mind actively engaged, and be intentional in your participation. The liturgical structure of both sacraments are communal, in that they are shared by the entire community of faith, but you can also appropriate them into the realm of the personal; pour your life and thoughts into them.

For Confession, I would first recommend finding a good examination of conscience; look at the Ten Commandments, or ponder the seven deadly sins, or think about the Beatitudes, or read 1 Corinthians 13; truly take the time to think about what you want to Confess beforehand. Maybe pray to the Holy Spirit or ask for your Guardian Angel/Patron Saint's intercession in being given the gift of clarity while doing it. Sometimes you'll just be enumerating things you did that you shouldn't have; at other times, you might be surprised by what things are weighing on your conscience.

As for the Confession itself, I would try to approach the confessional in a way that highlights the nature of the sacrament; I think it is Saint John Chrysostom that recommends you treat Confession as a kneeling before the Throne of Judgment; can you imagine yourself kneeling before Christ the King, the only Judge who truly matters in this world, acting as your own accuser? The Confession becomes the Day of Judgment in miniature, a preparation for what is to come.

Alternately, I often picture the confessional as a tomb or sepulchre that I am being buried in; having fallen into sin, I am now entering the depths of the netherworld. (I usually ask Saint Joseph of Arimathea to prepare my soul for Christ the way that he prepared Christ's tomb). It is in the tomb of the confessional that I make my plea, and when I am lifted back up into new life in Christ, those sins that brought me down are left in the confessional.

I think Mass allows for many more opportunities for personal intentionality, to be honest, and that's probably because it is a much longer form of worship. For starters, I would recommend you start to practice your priestly function at Mass, if you don't do that already; while the ordained celebrant might be the ministerial priest actually enacting the Sacrament, all baptized Christians are also priests; and we are called to participate in the Eucharistic liturgy in our own way.

So, for example, there are two parts of the liturgy where you can apply your own intention to the Mass. The first is the Offeratory - the part where the monetary collections are made, and the bread and wine is brought up to the altar. Just as the bread and wine are brought up to be presented to God and then be transformed by Him, you can pray to God and present some part of your life that needs His transforming grace to Him. The second is Communion itself; in that moment, Christ is giving Himself to you, fully, freely, and without reservation; in that moment, you should do the same. As you take Communion, thank Him for coming to you, and either give thanks for something specific or ask Him for a specific intention.

In addition to the Mass intentions, I try to personalize the Prayer of the Faithful when it is being recited. So, for example, if the lector asks us to pray for the sick and the elderly, in addition to praying for them in general, I try to pray for specific sick and elderly people I know. If we're asked to pray for Christ to touch the hearts of those who no longer go to church, I try to pray for specific people I know who have fallen away in addition to that group of people as a whole.

In addition to that, there are other ways of trying to stay mentally engaged during the Mass. I welcome the angelic Powers that become present (according to Theodore of Mopsuestia, anyway) on either side of the altar after the words of Consecration - you know how there are two candles on either side of the altar? According to this mystical interpretation, they represent the angels, who are taking their spot at the head and foot of the altar just as they did at the head and foot of Christ as He lay in the tomb on Holy Saturday. You could say a pray to acknowledge Christ's True Presence after the words of consecration as well.

You can invite specific saints or deceased loved ones to be present with you in a special way during a particular Mass; or, after Communion, you can meditate on how you are now a living Tabernacle, and ask God how you can carry Him out into the world with you after Mass now that you have received Him sacramentally. If you can't receive Him sacramentally, say sorry to Him; ask Him to be with you in whatever other way He deems fit, and try to firmly intend to be able to receive Him next time you go.

What I'm trying to get at here is that the liturgy doesn't have to be (hopefully shouldn't be!) rote repetition. Whether you are attentively meditating on specific aspects of the Mass or contributing your own personal prayers in the silence of your mind and heart, there are ways to be an active participant in the liturgy. And that might help make the Mass seem less empty.

[scarasimping]

love-avoidant princess

pirate!scaramouche x princess!reader

synopsis: scaramouche’s crew had been planning this heist for years prior, and finally, they dock ship at the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world with only one goal in mind: infiltrate the castle and steal the crown used for the coronation ceremony. The only setback? The princess had already stolen it, so now he has to go through her. 

tags: fem!reader, allusions to medieval sexism, you know how that is, mentions of blood like once, alcohol also mentioned a couple times, i believe that’s it for this part!

author’s note: ITS DONE omg, this took way longer than i thought but I guess that’s what happens when i try to throw myself in to writing actual pieces for the first time in three years instead of taking it slow. and it only ended up being 3k words TT but this is not the end, i have way more in mind for these two, this is honestly more like...a prologue of sorts!! hope you all enjoy !! so glad we actually have a plot now instead of me posting random hcs hshshshs also yes, his crew is most of the anemo characters because I said so

word count: 3.63k

One can only see the same garden of flowers so many times before becoming bored of the sight. You have walked through here on so many occasions that you're sure that you could list each plant by its scientific name in the order they appear, from the front of the garden to the back.

So, really, it shouldn't come as a surprise to your retainer when they watch you leave a meeting with a potential suitor halfway through your millionth walk through the garden.

The suitor was confused, calling out to you and running to keep up with your fast-paced steps.

"Princess! Did I do something wrong?" He shouted, but you shook your head, an unimpressed and uncaring look painting your features.

"I apologize for saying this after you made the long journey here, but this simply will not work between us."

And thus, another man was rejected by the unromantic princess.

Known for turning down every suitor imaginable, you had gained the reputation of being entirely against romance. Even though you were clearly not interested, this only made people want you more, and your father, who was eager to get you married off, agreed to let everyone interested in you meet you, as long as they were of high enough standing. This included royalty from other kingdoms, wealthy businessmen, and other government officials or their sons who were your age. 

None of them even came close to winning your heart.

It’s not that there was anything wrong with them. To be honest, even you weren’t sure why you were so bored with every man or woman you met. It seemed to be more the life you would lead with them than the suitor themselves that made you gag. No first-born heir of a royal family wants to be married off; they want to have the throne! And if your parents weren’t going to give it to you, then you wouldn’t make it easy for them to send you away.

As you gracefully left the heartbroken businessman behind, the retainer assigned to watch over you hurriedly followed, barely keeping up with your pace.

"Princess, this is the seventh suitor you've met. Please tell me, what is wrong with this one?" he pleaded. In truth, he was scared to report more bad news to the king and queen, but frankly, that was not your problem.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I just do not see myself having a life with him," you replied, staring straight ahead and hoping he would stop following you. After forcing yourself to be nice to these suitors, all you wanted was to lay in bed and nap, or maybe practice your sparring skills with your sword.

"We'll have to tell your father about this," he gave you one last warning, but your mind was already made up.

"I understand, but I'm not altering my decision."

Just as you and your retainer thought, your father was not pleased, going on one of his long-winded rants about how you should get married quickly because it’s “better for the kingdom” and “what a princess should do.” All the while, your mother sat and watched, not saying a word because she knew that she did the same thing when she was your age. It was how your parents met in the first place, after all.

"At this rate, your little brother will have inherited the throne before you're satisfied with a man." The king ends his rant with this statement, huffing angrily as he furrows his thick eyebrows in your direction. There it was, the constant reminder that you, the eldest heir, were not to inherit the throne, which should rightfully be yours, all because your parents favored your younger brother.

However, who would dare question the king? When he makes an order, it is carried out, and what he demands is brought to fruition. So if he says your sibling shall inherit the throne, he will, and when he finally gets fed up with your high standards and simply makes you marry someone of his choosing, you will have to obey. Such is the life of a princess.

With a heavy heart, you bow to your father, asking to be excused. He sighs and waves his hand, allowing you to leave, to which you immediately turn on your heel and pace quickly toward your chambers.

When Scaramouche's crew docked at the pier, they knew the welcome they would be given wasn't going to be a warm one. It never was, wherever they stopped. It was no secret that wherever this ship docked, well-known valuables would soon go missing and trouble would follow, yet no one could prove it was them.

Still, seeing every guard on patrol look at them with a noticeable glare and watch their every move was more than unnerving. All Scaramouche was doing was going for a stroll, after all.

But, so were his crewmates, Kazuha and Heizou, in separate parts of the city. And it's not their fault if they happen to notice which areas are more guarded than others, when the guards switch shifts, or which buildings have the least amount of foot traffic coming in and out of them. It's all coincidental, of course, not on purpose at all.

It's definitely not intentional when Heizou reports that the only guards that step into the tavern are always there to get so drunk after their shift that they won't remember what they say.

And who's to shame Scaramouche if he wants to step in and have a drink or two, and happens to run into a guard who's slurring his words and would have fallen over if he ever tried to stand up in this state?

"And that princess…god! She's so stuck up.." the guard ranted, taking another swig from his pint. Scaramouche listened with faux sympathy to the drunken man in front of him, but he wasn't sure how much more he could take from this man. He too often leaned too close as if whispering a secret, the stench of sweat, metal, and cheap booze radiating off of him. 

"That princess! She keeps rejecting every suitor who's interested in her! Do you know who has to deal with the king's fury after she does this? Us!"

He leans in once more, and Scaramouche gets a whiff of his rancid breath  "I hear….the king wants her married off to someone wealthy because he's in debt…but she just wants the throne instead! Can you believe it? Too stuck up to let her brother be the heir to the kingdom…."

It seemed all this guard was going to reveal was pointless rants about the king’s only daughter, and today he was not going to get any information that would be helpful to him. After all, if this princess was to be married off, it’s unlikely she would be able to get hold of the crown that was to be used in the coronation ceremony when the prince came of age.

Like an answer from the heavens, his doubts were quickly proven incorrect when the guard’s voice drops to a whisper, and he leans across the table to speak in Scaramouche’s ear.

“I hear…that she got so jealous, she stole the crown. The king says it just got lost, however, we guards know the truth. But what grounds could we present that would warrant a search through the princess’s private quarters? It’s useless…”

And just like that, Scaramouche knew whom he should target. 

The captain stands from their booth in the corner, excusing himself. He buys the guard another drink as thanks for the “lovely conversation” and to ensure he really wouldn’t remember the information he spilled.

The next few nights, Scaramouche and other members of his crew alternate between taverns to gather as much information as possible. Each night, a different person hit a different establishment to not raise suspicion. This heist was going to be big, and after it was pulled off they wouldn’t be able to dock for months to avoid being caught and interrogated.

Stealing the crown from the most heavily guarded kingdom on this side of the world was no easy task, but it had been Scaramouche’s dream ever since he started his life of piracy. Something like this would earn them respect like no other on the seven seas but also put a huge target on their back. His crew was prepared, of course, they wouldn’t have docked here if they weren’t. It’s not like they couldn’t fight, either. They were notorious for many reasons: their crimes that left no evidence behind, the sheer intimidation their crew gave off, and the fact that no crew member lost any duel they were challenged to.

After a couple weeks of solely gathering information, Scaramouche’s crew was ready to take things to the next level. They learned that the princess was unable to leave the castle without supervision, which only occurred on rare occasions. She lived a secluded life and many of the kingdom’s citizens didn’t even know her face. His first mate, Kazuha, who was always good with his words, even managed to get one of the guards to reveal which terrace on the castle belonged to the princess’s room and that the staff had recently increased security in the city and outside the castle because of a suspicious ship that had docked at the pier, which lessened the amount of military inside the building.

Kazuha was always better with people than any other crew member, and Scaramouche was forever thankful he was a part of his crew, even if he didn’t show it.

However, it seemed no one was able to learn that the princess provided enough security for herself, not even needing guards.

Scaramouche quickly learned that when he was finally ready to attempt to get inside the castle, scaling the walls during a shift change and approaching the terrace he was informed about prior.

A candle on your bedside and the illumination from the moon were the only sources of light in your quarters at this time of night. Every other member of the royal family was asleep, but not you. Far too frequently would you stay up reading a novel you “borrowed” from the castle’s library, even though books weren’t supposed to leave the area. 

All was silent except for the wind blowing outside and the rare footsteps in the hall, metal clashing with each step from the guards’ armor.

Though silent, and easy to miss, a sound from outside your window caught your attention. 

Breathing, silent steps getting closer, the scraping of someone climbing the walls and terrace.

You turned, blowing out your candle so that whoever was coming wouldn’t know you were awake. With the time it took for them to reach the glass door that separates your room from the balcony, your eyes had already adjusted to the darkness and you had your sword out from underneath your bed, drawn and ready to be used.

The door cracked open, slowly, and it was obvious that whoever was there was trying to use the element of surprise. They must not know you, considering they thought you wouldn’t discover them. One hand pushes the door open all the way, then pulls the person inside. It was a man with indigo hair and eyes. Everything he wore was black - his boots, high-waisted pants, and tricorn hat, - besides his shirt, which was a white poet shirt with purple and black accents tucked into his pants. Adorned on his hat were feathers that spewed from the back and gems which were sewn on, each one catching the light from the moon. He was obviously a pirate, and based on the whispers from the staff in the castle, he was probably from the ship that docked recently and made everyone nervous. The captain of the guards had even told you to report anything suspicious you happened to see, which told you they were no joke, Normally, if there was a threat, you wouldn’t even be informed. 'No one wanted to worry the princess, of course' is what they would say, but you know they just think you can't handle it.

Before he even has time to process you're there, you point your sword at his throat, the tip pressing against his flesh, but not hard enough to draw blood. Just enough so that he knows he made a mistake.

The pirate stares down at the sword at his neck, his gaze following the blade to its holder; the very princess he intended to come in here and threaten. It's a funny thing how easily the tables can be turned. He eyes the princess warily, one eyebrow raised and an awkward smile on his face, knowing he's been caught so easily.

"Well, isn't this a surprise?" He chuckles to himself, raising his hands up beside his head in a phony sign of surrender, but your sword never wavers.

"What do you think you are doing here?"  You demanded, sword to the pirate's throat. The captain remained silent, weighing his options. He could try to talk his way out of this or use his cunning tactics to somehow overpower the princess and make a break for it. Whatever decision he made, it could mean the difference between life and death.

"Sure, as soon as you put that sword down. I'd rather have a conversation than an encounter between your blade and my jugular if you don't mind," he reasons, staring right back into your eyes with a look that screams mischief. Still, you sigh, and lower your sword, taking a step back and never loosening your grip on its handle. 

"Speak." 

He chuckles, lowering his hands and letting a cocky smile spread across his face.

"You see, princess, there's a rumor going around that you've stolen and hidden the coronation crown. I'm here to simply…take it off your hands," he explains. Everything about him seems sly, and even though it seems he's at a disadvantage, he's acting like he has the upper hand. There's not an ounce of fear on his face.

Your hold on your sword is steady, ready for combat at any moment, and it seems he's thinking the same thing.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do so. I can, however, offer you a deal. Leave now and I won't report your attempt to rob the royal castle and have you thrown in prison."

The pirate shrugs and sighs, his hand reaching for the sword that hung from his belt. 

"Oh well, looks like there's no other way."

And with that, he draws his sword from its scabbard, a sleek, steel sword with a curved blade,  and lunges forward, dealing the first strike. Blades clash and the sound of metal on metal echoes throughout the room as you parry his sword, pushing him back further. He doesn't let up, dealing strike after strike, yet landing no hits nonetheless. 

While the pirate’s blows are strong and aggressive, his attacks powerful and relentless, yours are both quick and agile with fast and precise strikes.

He expected the princess to be less of a hassle, yet here you were, not only putting up a good fight but winning too. Similar to him, there wasn't even a hint of sweat dripping from your brow, no signs of exhaustion as you dueled him in just your nightgown and slippers.

Your sword comes down once more towards his chest, and he raises his own to block it when suddenly you change your direction and aim to land a hit on his arm instead.

Ever quick on his feet, the pirate steps out of the way, dodging an almost fatal attack, but not before your blade can tear through his shirt and leave the faintest wound on the flesh of his shoulder.

He hisses as he feels the sting of his skin splitting, looking down as red stains the sleeve of his shirt.

"Not bad," he mumbles, his eyes sharp as he glares at the princess, a cocky smirk adorning his face. "Haven't struggled this much with an opponent in a while."

"Likewise," you muse, tightening your grip on your handle as you raise your eyebrows, almost taunting him.

"Tell me, pirate, what is your name? I want to know what to call my attacker before I slice your throat." 

He chuckles, rolling his wounded shoulder back and getting into a better position to keep fighting.

"Oh, I don't believe you really could. Wouldn't want to get your pretty hands dirty after all." He, once again, swings his sword, but to no avail. You continue trading blows with him, barely giving each other a chance to breathe. No matter what he tries, he can't seem to get the upper hand. Mentally, he wants to blame it on the fact that he was caught off guard, or that the way the silk of her nightgown hugs her body when she twists and turns to use her sword is distracting, but really he knows he's just finally met a well-matched opponent. 

"But the name's Scaramouche, consider this knowledge a gift before I beat you at the game of swords.”

It was then that the sound of armored footsteps approaching rapidly caught both Scaramouche and the princess’s attention. You bite back a laugh, glancing at the door and then back to the pirate in front of you.

“Looks like that will have to wait, Scaramouche.”

His name spilled from your lips easier than you’d like to admit, sounding almost natural when it came from you. Scaramouche noticed this too, stiffening as you say it and running his tongue along his cheek. It was annoying whenever he found himself having to make an enemy of an attractive woman. He takes one last look at the princess, before stepping away towards the glass door he came in through. He keeps his sword pointed at you as he backs away, not taking any chances.

“This was lovely, princess. I’ll be seeing you again very soon, but for now, I bid you adieu,” He takes his hat off, bending his arm at his waist and bowing overdramatically before opening the door and launching himself over the fence of the terrace, disappearing into the night.

As the footsteps get closer, you kick your sword under the bed, praying it wasn’t damaged, and toss yourself onto your mattress, throwing the covers over your body just in time for the door to swing open. A few guards peer inside, seeing nothing but you sleeping soundly in, your back turned to them as your body rises and falls to the rhythm of your breathing. There was no sign a fight had even occurred, despite the noises that multiple knights had heard coming from here.

As they close the door, the sound of their footsteps moving away from your room, a giddy smile creeps onto your face. After all, if no fight happened in their eyes, there would be no reason to increase security and you could see that intriguing pirate again.

After Scaramouche escapes down the castle walls, he books it for the treeline that separated the castle from the ocean. It was just past there that his ship resided, where his crew was eagerly awaiting his return with good news. A sinking feeling resides over him whilst he runs through the trees, kicking up dirt and leaves with every step. There is no reasoning he could possibly give that would excuse his failure. Not when he knows it’s caused by his own faults as a man. He, just like all of her numerous suitors and admirers, simply got distracted by her appearance. At some point, he had to stop as his head became too muddled by his thoughts, leaning against a tree, taking a deep breath, and trying to calm his thoughts.

Before, when hearing about rumors of the princess and all of the men interested in marrying her, he assumed the stories all came with a tinge of exaggeration.

Yet, after seeing her and fighting with her, he knows each metaphor and story told of her had to have been nothing but the truth. Tales of her beauty were honestly an understatement. It’s not often he finds himself this distracted by a woman, especially a princess, and he can’t help but feel ashamed in a way. He just failed to execute the plan his crew had been working on for years prior to docking it this kingdom, but all he can think about is her smile when she taunted him, her confidence because she knew she could fight, or the way her nightgown revealed the shape of her body, expensive silk clinging to every curve of her flesh. She was a princess rarely even seen by the public, but he got to see her in such a private setting, and god was it worth it.

He starts running again, her face in mind doubts infecting his every thought. His heart pounds heavily in his chest, and his lungs burn with each breath, but he doesn’t stop running. He would much rather face his crew than the entire royal army. He was sure the princess had reported what had happened by now, and he didn’t want to stick around so they could remember his face.

As he runs, he starts to feel the ocean breeze brushing along his face, and it reminds him that he’s almost home. His crew is smart; they’ll be able to come up with a new plan together. Maybe next time they’ll send a different member of the crew. 

As soon as the thought of someone else seeing her like that enters his mind, he quickly shoos it away. 

Just for now, he’d like to keep the image of her to himself.

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