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#Swordsman Twelve Hates
sealedsanctuary · 1 year
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霹靂 Pili · 劍君十二恨 Jian Jun
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star-girl69 · 9 months
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In A Good Way
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader
—-
sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)
a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!
In A Good Way - Faye Webster
warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!
—-
You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.
You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.
She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.
“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.
“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”
You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.
Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.
You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.
“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”
You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”
Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.
“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.
“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.
“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.
“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”
Her eyes meet yours.
“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”
“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”
Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.
You smile.
You see her eyes soften.
She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.
Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.
On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.
You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.
You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.
Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.
“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”
“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.
“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”
“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”
“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”
Percy chuckles a bit.
“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.
“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.
“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.
“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”
“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?
“And people think I’m a big deal?”
“Well, sorta-”
“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”
Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.
“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.
“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”
“Maybe,” Luke concedes.
“Great. Where do we start?”
You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”
—-
You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.
You sit down next to her.
“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.
“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”
“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.
“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”
She hums.
“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”
She shoots you a bored look.
“Don’t say horrible things like that.”
You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”
“Oh, I know.”
—-
“What happened to you?”
You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.
“What?”
She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”
You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.
“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”
You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.
“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.
“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.
“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”
She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.
“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.
“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”
“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”
“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.
—-
Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.
You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.
You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.
After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.
Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.
“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”
You know these rules by heart.
Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.
She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.
“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”
You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.
Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.
“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.
The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.
Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.
“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.
Capture the flag games are taken seriously.
She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.
“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.
“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.
She smiles, a full toothy grin.
“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”
Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.
You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.
“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”
She just smiles.
—-
One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.
The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.
“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.
“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.
Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.
“Hi, Luke,” you smile.
He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.
“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”
Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.
You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”
You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.
“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.
As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.
“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.
Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”
The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.
“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”
Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.
“Thanks, Y/N.”
He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.
He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.
Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.
It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.
They grab the flag and run for the beach.
The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.
“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.
“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.
Matty helps you up.
“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”
“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”
Matty claps your shoulder.
“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”
And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…
“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.
—-
The scream scares you.
All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.
“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.
“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”
“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.
“Clar- wait, Y/N!”
But you’re already long gone.
—-
You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.
“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”
You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.
You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.
“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.
“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.
You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?
“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”
You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.
“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”
She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.
You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.
“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.
“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”
She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.
“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.
—-
You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.
She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.
She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.
You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.
“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”
She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.
“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.
You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.
“Oh, you can.”
“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.
“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”
She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.
“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”
“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”
You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”
She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.
“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.
You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.
“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”
“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”
“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”
Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.
She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.
“He broke it,” she whispers.
“Broke what?”
She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.
“He broke my spear.”
“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.
“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”
You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.
Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.
Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.
And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.
Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.
If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.
—-
Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.
She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.
When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.
It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.
“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”
“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.
“C’mon, baby, who?”
“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”
“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.
You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.
“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.
“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”
“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.
“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”
Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.
“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”
You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.
When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.
—-
clarisse, about to beat up percy
y/n: oh no no no no you don’t
clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍
—-
y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles
clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE
—-
y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke
—-
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firefirefruit · 9 months
Text
Steel in Her Veins | Table of Contents
Read On: AO3
Fair Warning: Written in a combination of first, second and third person POVs out of my own interest to test things out - I know - but SiHV will be rewritten soon in a consistent first person POV.
Characters: Fem!Reader x Roronoa Zoro
Synopsis: Her name is Kozuki Raya, but no one calls her by that name anymore. Using the alias of Tenguyama Raya as advised by her Gramps, Kozuki Sukiyaki, she is the descendant of the legendary swordsmith Kotetsu and a distant friend of the Shimotsuki clan.
Following in her ancestor’s footsteps, she dedicates her life to the mastery of sword crafting, wielding, and learning. With much of her life being taught by Gramps, she realises that the dormant power, ancient knowledge and ancestral secrets that thrum within her veins start to play a very important role in the way the future world is shaped.
Meeting the Straw Hats was not written anywhere within her blueprints, but – most importantly - meeting Roronoa Zoro wasn’t supposed to change the trajectory of her life either.
Table of Contents:
Prologue
Chapter One: What Happens When a Swordsman Meets a Swordsmith?
Chapter Two: All Goop and No Blades
Chapter Three: The Golden Medallion
Chapter Four: A Cyborg, A Skeleton and A Lot of Limbs Walk Into A Shop…
Chapter Five: Oh, Ohara...
Chapter Six: It's Awful, Do It Again.
Chapter Seven: BWING!
Chapter Eight: The One-Eyed Marimooo
Chapter Nine: The Niece of Oden
Chapter Ten: Fight, Flight, Freeze
Chapter Eleven: The Bushido Code
Chapter Twelve: Read Me, But Don't Weep
Chapter Thirteen: A Line in the Sand
Chapter Fourteen: Enigma
Chapter Fifteen: Did You Watch Your Spine Run Away from You, Too?
Chapter Sixteen: Something New, Something Borrowed, Something Blue
Chapter Seventeen: Onigiri
Chapter Eighteen: Burn, Demon, Burn
Chapter Nineteen: Daemgar
Chapter Twenty: Minks and Vivre Cards
Chapter Twenty-One: Polar Twwwang
Chapter Twenty-Two: The Doctor Just Pinched Me
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Children of the Beyond
Chapter Twenty-Four: You Want to Come Over and Touch Me, Too?
Chapter Twenty-Five: One More Sword
Chapter Twenty-Six: Simple. Practical. Easy
Chapter Twenty-Seven: Alcohol. Love It or Hate It
Chapter Twenty-Eight: Sugar and Spice and Everything... Sooty
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Stupid Fucking Plan
Chapter Thirty: Fuck You, Too.
Chapter Thirty-One: Rubber
Chapter Thirty-Two: The Thorned
Chapter Thirty-Three: Sharp Metal, Be Damned
Chapter Thirty-Four: Aragnus
Chapter Thirty-Five: A Surly Monster
Chapter Thirty-Six: Dragon Taxi
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Washed Up
Chapter Thirty-Eight: A Doctor’s Steady Hands
Chapter Thirty-Nine: Spitfire
Chapter Forty: Sacrifical Lambs
Chapter Forty-One: Odenta
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erismor-iok · 1 year
Note
Hi! Could I please request a romantic matchup with a male character from Honkai Star Rail, JJK, and Demon Slayer?
My Name is Rachel, Im 18, and my pronouns are she/her.  My zodiac sign is Taurus and Im a Gemini rising. I have brown hair that comes a few inches below my shoulders, brown eyes and freckles.
I’m a really optimistic person, and I try to help others as much as I can! I’m good at giving advice, and making people feel better. I’m also very charismatic and very outgoing! I love trying out new activities, But, I can get impatient easily and I tend to be stubborn. I’m very affectionate and I usually try to make sure that everyone around me is feeling alright before making sure that I am. Basically, I’m like the mom friend. 
I really enjoy fashion design. I love sewing and coming up with a new ideas of something I can make! I’m also really passionate about music. I’ve played piano for twelve years, and it really helps me to express myself! Some of my other hobbies include baking, crocheting and shopping. My personal style is a kind of mix between softie and angelcore. I love clothes that are pink, ruffly or have some sort of lace on them. Some things I like include, pretty perfume bottles, flowers, and jewelry I have a huge sweet tooth, so I also really like desserts! I absolutely hate bugs.
Thank you so much!! <33
I, Eris, match you up with
BLADE (Honkai Star Rail)
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Overview:
"A member of the Stellaron Hunters and a swordsman who abandoned his body to become a blade."
A man whose past is shrouded in mystery. On the outside, he’s calm, but insanity swirls inside of him. Only those close may peak into its depths, and only the truly insane may take the plunge.
Meeting him was a coincidence, but perhaps one woven by the Aeons.
How you two first met:
It is a miracle that you two are together with your unorthodox meet-cute.
You had just graduated 4th grade and were enjoying your well-deserved summer break by sewing and munching on Egg Tarts when you felt someone gaze on your back. Turning around, you nearly had a heart attack when you saw the young boy outside your window.
"WHAT THE FUCK!?" "...can I have one?" "...what..?" "...You…want an egg tart?..."
The correct and normal thing to do in that circumstance is to kindly but bluntly tell the boy to fuck off. Fortunately, you are not either, so, against your better judgment, you let the boy in.
One became two, and two became three; eventually, this became a routine. Every time, like cloak work, the minute you finished baking a treat, he would be standing outside, waiting for you to let him in. And every time, you do.
He became another norm in your little world, another truth. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and a little boy with blue hair and red eyes with no name will show up outside your window demanding snacks.
Friendship:
This went on for months, with both of you in silent agreement. Do not tell anyone; this is a secret for you and him only. Do not ask anything personal. He doesn’t ask why you are alone for every hour of the day, and you don’t speak about the scars littering his body like constellations in the night sky.
Bruises and cuts are the most common, only second to split knuckles and blistering hands. You never ask how he got them. You just take his calloused hands into yours and try your best to treat each new wound.
These were the moments when he most opened up to you. How he is training with his master, how he has a friend named Dan Heng, and how sometimes he has to search through trashcans for food and clothes. You never ask out loud, but he knows the questions stuck in your throat and those that dance on your tongue, so he tells.
Ever since he told you he has to dumpster dive to get his meals and the attire on his back, You have now started giving him extra food and clothes.
(He never says thank you, but you know by his eyes curving up when you come out with a stack of clothes or when his hands shake but refuse to drop the extras you hand him that he isn’t ungrateful, and even if he is, you won’t stop.)
But not all your days with him are filled with doom and gloom. You found that while he doesn’t talk much, opting for silence or one-word answers, he is very expressive, especially when it comes to his eyes.
He also has very strong opinions on fashion, causing an untold amount of bickering between you two.
"Look, all I am saying is that ruffles instantly make things ten times better." "..." "Don’t give me that! It’s not my fault you don’t see the artistic value of adding trim to stuff!" "..." "YOU TAKE THAT BACK! I DO NOT LOOK LIKE PINK THROW UP YOU-" (You win every argument, of course. Don't ask him, though; he’ll deny it like the big sore loser he is.)
How you fell in love:
Humming a short tune, you dance across the kitchen. Your socked feet glide across the wooden floor. In the distance, the fireplace crackles as the radio plays, filling the kitchen with the soft melodies of a piano. You hum along.
Only when your face is flushed and your breaths come out ragged do you hear the ding. Immediately, your face breaks into a smile as you quickly jog over to the oven. ‘The cookies!’ You think, almost forgetting to put on your oven mittens as you slide the baking tray out.
Setting it down, you stand still, waiting for
*Tap* *Tap* *Tap*
It’s a testament to how many times he’s done it that your reaction is nothing but flickering your brown eyes over, and yep, He’s there. Behind your window, in the falling snow, stands the boy with his blue, windswept hair and big red eyes, staring at you.
Worry imminently settles in your gut as you see him wearing nothing but a black shirt and shorts, only slightly dampening when you don’t see any red on them. Your footsteps softly pad the floor as you make your way over.
"You know," You begin, opening the window, cold air rushing in, "The door exists for a reason, right? Now come in! You’ll catch a cold!"
Ushering him in, you threw a mountain of pink blankets on him. It was cute to see him drowning under them, only a tuft of his hair peeking out. The cookies were still warm when you plated them up for him, adding a glass of milk alongside it. Almond milk. You (and the toilet) learned the hard way to never give him any dairy.
You look at the boy with his checks stuffed and crumbs dotted all around his mouth. You swipe your warm hand now on his cheek. "I’ll get your name one day," You vow.
But, as you were about to pull away, you felt his calloused hand on yours, locking it into place. It's as if the world stopped at that very moment. You can’t hear the radio or the fireplace, as if the world has gone still. The only sound is your soft breath mingling with his and the fluttering of your heartbeat.
Your breath hitches, clogging your throat as you see him softly smile for the first time. ‘Oh,’ you think.
"I’ll be waiting," He says.
‘I’ve fallen in love.’
In a romantic relationship:
A blade is a possessive man. Only amplify when you two finally get together.
It is not uncommon to find his hand on your waist. Both to protect you and to also stake a claim on you. (As if the hickeys weren’t enough.)
Behind closed doors, however, he is quite sweet. Whenever you come home from a long day, He is always there, ready for whatever you need. Want a hot bath? He already drew one. Want food but are too lazy to cook? He is already looking through the fridge, clad in a pink, frilly apron that is two sizes too small. Want a massage? Don’t worry; he knows all your pressure points!
He isn’t the type to bring you out on dates, being much more of a homebody than anything. He'd rather just spend the day with you, lazing around and munching on whatever sweet concoction you made for the day.
But if he were to bring you out on a date, he would bring you out to the forest for a picnic! No stress, no troubles, no ex-best friend he needs to hunt down—just him and you with good food. What’s not to like?
Of course, your relationship isn’t without its hurdles. There are countless days when the two of you get into a fight, and they are never pretty. Everyone knows not to get in the way if they value their necks.
But you two always make up in the end. His words spilled out of his mouth like a damn. Promises and reassurance for change and growth. He values you and the relationship more than anything else in his life. Infuriating as that may be,
After fights, he is 100% spoiling you rotten. Just enjoy it, okay? It’s his silent apology of sorts.
Moving on! He loves supporting your hobbies and interests. (He has a shirt with your name and ‘number #1 fan’ given to him by Jing Yuan. It has become one of his favorites, and he wears it with pride. Much to your chagrin.)
He’s also willing to try anything with you, no matter how outlandish it looks or seems, and if he can’t because of time or his job, he’ll buy you stuff about it. You tried calligraphy one time, and now he constantly sends you calligraphy pens and papers. (You keep every single one of them in a special drawer.)
Of course, he sends you other stuff as well, such as pretty perfume bottles, flowers, and jewelry. Anything you like, he’ll send. He also has a habit of buying the most random thing and excusing it by saying it ‘reminds him of you.’
All in all, it was your kindness (and baking) that drew him in. In his eyes, you are his sun, warm and bright. You bring his life so much happiness, and if you just utter the word, he will lay the world at your feet.
He was scared at first when he first realized his heart wasn’t his own, hidden away behind bones and mass, but instead laying in your hands.
Only when you treated it with the same kindness you treated him all those years ago did he find his fear unfounded.
He loves you so much that it hurts. He isn’t a religious man, but every day, when you smile at him, he prays to the Aeons to let this moment last. He knows his hands are stained with blood and he doesn’t deserve you, but he can’t help himself.
You are his sun, his world, and his. And he’ll be by your side for as long as you let him.
 Extras:
When the four of you (Blade, Dan Heng, and Jing Yuan) first met up, all of you got along like a house on fire. Jing Yuan gets everybody in trouble as all three of them look on as you try to convince the officer “No, of course, we didn’t set that orphanage on fire, sir."
It didn’t work, but hey! Now you have mug shots! Jing Yuan has his printed and framed.
Blade isn’t his name. He only got it when he joined the Stellaron Hunters. You are the only person besides him who knows his birth name.
He also trains you! Not super in-depth, of course, but just enough to hold yourself in a fight. At first, he did it out of fear. One of his many enemies could possibly find you, and he wouldn’t be there.
But now, it’s more of a bonding activity than anything else. One that he looks forward to. (Afterwards, he always makes sure to pamper you.)
You are his main stylist and tailor! You were the one who made his coat and 90% of his wardrobe. (He loves all of them, and he will brag subtly to Kafka.)
Playing the piano for him is one of the quickest ways to make him fall asleep. Second to you singing to him. It doesn’t matter if you sound like a dying squirrel; he will doze off to dreamland. (which is impressive considering this man’s insomnia.)
Jing Yuan and Dan Heng both agree that you are the best thing that happened to Blade and if it weren’t for you, he would've drowned in his madness long ago, dragging the world down with him.
"I can’t promise I will make the right choices; I can’t promise you a life of peace, but I can promise I will be there for you; I will protect you. Until death do we part."
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honey-lemonz · 2 years
Note
If you can, could you do another sub Kokushibou smut x Male reader pls when he is  training to get stronger in the forest and starts thinking about the reader and then sits down on a tree stump. He starts to touch him self then the reader finds him and ya Idk I was bored when I made this up.
Sure! Another Yasumebe fic!
Info: this is a continuation of a previous post from me about Kokushibou being a sub to Yasumebe [name]. Please go read that fic because a little references to that. Also I'm allowing tags to happen now and if you want a personalized on for a specific post please PM me! Okay I'm done talking and read the warnings babes!
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Warnings: NSFW, Smut, cursing , matsturbation, hate-fucking, biting, spit, begging, possessive nature, mentions of urination, overstimulation, bondage( just Koku being tied up), sub Koku, Hard Dom reader, enemies-to-lovers(maybe)fuck, humiliation kink, degrading and dirty talk, anal fingering, face-fucking.
3.1k words
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT PLEASE
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Kokushibou never envisioned himself in such a pitiful state. Never sensed himself falter in his steps at the mere thought of the event that unchangeable shaken his life to pieces of heaven. 
The dreaded encounter with his new arch-nemesis, the archer demon.
Yasumebe [Name].
A long (hair colored) demon with a phoenix’s slayer mark running up his jaw and face towards the start of his hairline. A demon with lazily fitted clothing that exposed his chest and abdomen happily without a care. The same demon who has a deep-toned voice that allows him to slip his words into one’s ear so sultry-like that it’s evident he has a deeper purpose underneath. A man who stands for his craft of the arrow rather than the generic swordsman craft of his original time. A man who carried scars that looked like lightning carved from the gods themselves in heaven. 
Yasumebe [Name] wasn’t a man who feared death, rather he challenged life. Something Kokushibou himself wished to say for himself that he could do perfectly. To walk a line as he does of honor and regret. But Kokushibou also held deeper ambitions with the archer demon. 
The six-eyed demon was known to go missing from his post of stay, leaving the infinity fortress for weeks on end. His master was too obsessed with the idea of infinite perfection and conquering the sun that either he didn’t care or noticed him being gone. Not that it matters anyway.
Kokushibou’s mind was busy with conflicting and impulsive thoughts about himself. The humiliation of his failure to kill the Archer demon and also getting into a promiscuous situation and feelings for him. The archer was his hated figure, nothing more and nothing less.
But why is it that this demon constantly tangled himself into the mind and likes of upper rank one of the infamous twelve kizuki? Why is it that he is always on edge and feeling his needy tendencies arise? His cock ached from time to time and so did his prostate and cunt. What was the issue? No amount of masturbation and fingering appeased the urges. The forceful attitude, the smirk, and the goodness in the voice of the archer surrounding him and his twitching cock made him audible moan. So pathetic.
Kokushibou rested at an abandoned estate he stayed at times when this happens, which isn’t as rare as he pleases. Constantly cupping his hand on his cock, slowly and roughly pushing his fingers into his needy anal cunt and the groans of a whore he hated but needed. He hated his weakness so much it turned him on in hopes his moans would reach the man he wished would send him into the release he desperately ached to achieve. When he feels his fingers graze his prostate while covered in his cum and own fluids while his other hands slowly drag along his erect cock and press his finger to the tip and rub it quickly with a tiny bit of pressure. The feeling was close to extraordinary but it was so close yet so far. His nipples were erect, his face was sweating and his clothes were saturated in his fluids of sweat, blood, and cum. His legs shook as his supernatural stamina allowed him to keep up but his mind was delayed. The night filled with his pants and grunts. The strong upper rank begged like a dog for release in his mind that the presence coming behind him resting on another tree in the grand forest was not even a threat. Demon slayer, he could easily kill them with a look, another demon? He could kill happily and tell his master they threatened his superiority.
But instead, Kokushibou felt a hand cup the back of his neck and forcefully shove him into the grass below. The demon’s mind snapped quickly to primal instinct and was going to kill whoever pinned him and came about him in such an intimate time. Not to mention when he was so close to climax and then falling short of his arousal.
But instead of being ready to kill Kokushibou became relaxed oddly and aroused when the voice he dreamed about and fancied whispered darkly in his ear. The feeling of his bare chest pressing into his back and the feeling of his ass pressing against his cock and feeling the thickness outline his hakama pants. The hand around his neck readjusted on it and pressed against the front and Kokushibou’s Adam's apple. The squeeze despite most being afraid of suffocation or choking and the obstruction of air and blood only Kokushibou feel the grip points of his fingers and knuckle strength only wanted to obstruct blood and not airflow.
But why? The wind blew along both of them and the archer spoke.
“You truly are a whore for me? You’re lucky your cunt felt so fucking good around my cock or else I would have killed you. Be happy I decided to be nice and give you the pleasure you undeniably want so badly. So be a good whore and moan pretty for me.”
The demon looked at the oncoming horizon, he was a little later than he wanted to be but the feeling of Kokushibou grinding his pretty ass against his clothed cock settled in his mind what he (needed) had to do. The demon called out a name and slowly the atmosphere around them changed. “Notei!” the world shifted and turned into a dark bedroom only lit by candles and a soft fusion rested on the tatami matted floor. Kokushibou’s mind gained blood supply again after the archer released his grip. The six-eyed demon noticed he couldn’t move his limbs and was exposed. He cocked his head to see what the problem is.
Ropes…shibari.
The ropes held him tightly and restricted movement, when he did wiggle the ropes tightened. The smell of iron was evident in them. “Blood demon art? How did I, when-?” The door to the room opened, then closed. No one entered. Kokushibou then felt his iconic ponytail slowly fall and his wild raven locks were free. He tried to flip himself back to see who was behind him but instead, he was forcibly pushed back forward. He heard a grumble. The voice from earlier.
“You sleep for too damn long. You begging me to stuff your cunt but yet you pass out as soon as your face hits the dam futon. Tying you up was also a pain. Gods, your cunt better feel as tight as when I fucked it before. Wasting all this damn time on a whore like you.” Kokushibou’s eyes widened. How long has it been since he opened his eyes? Where was he? 
Kokushibou felt two cool hands rest on his torso and one on his bare thigh. All of his was naked. His cock throbbed as he could feel the teasing look on his back. The archer demon leaned his head onto his shoulder blade and spoke.
“You want to be touched upper rank? You want your cunt to be bred and full of my cum? Do you want to get your mouth stuffed with my cock? You want to be my pretty cocksleeve and slut for all of eternity?” Kokushibou’s eyes widened. To be his and used as his…forever. To be [Name’s] personal fuck toy? Kokushibou felt his brain be much as he nodded feverishly and keened in the shibari-styled ropes. He moved fervently. The archer chuckled and the hand resting on his thigh touched his cock tip. The precum and throbbing were unbelievable on him.
“Use your words upper-rank whore. Tell me what you want. Either I can get you off and kill you or I can use your body as my cum-dump. The choice of your fate. Your master can’t save you anymore.” Kokushibou struggled as his thumb pressed into his tip and his other hand tweaked his sensitive nipple. For being so envious and stubborn, Kokushibou answered quicker than accepting Muzan’s blood. 
“Please! Please Yasumebe, please let me be yours! I swear I’ll give you my loyalty please let e be your plea-” Kokushibou bent himself to lean into the archer while his cock released thick ropes of cum onto [Names] hand. The archer smiled devilishly and moved quickly to touch the aching cunt and probe his fingers into Kokushibou’s anal canal. The demon fingered his middle finger slowly while the upper rank moaned and whined. His fingers lightly grazed his prostate and continued tweaking his nipples. Kokushibou closed his eyes in bliss. [Name] wiggled another finger into his asshole and tried to probe at his prostate. Kokushibou when his finger did touch his prostate jerked and moaned loudly at the undeniable relief and felt his cock tip throb and precum lubed his cock perfectly. Yasumebe himself felt his cock harden. “Your greedy cunt is begging to get fucked, but first you need a little encouragement.
Yasumebe stood behind Kokushibou and made the six-eyed demon backward on his kneeling thighs. Leaned him back right into his bulging cock. The upper-rank demon unconsciously nuzzled himself into [Name’s] thigh and used his bottom set of eyes to see up at him. [Name] removed the confines holding the thick member and it sprung into life. Hitting his upper pelvis, Yasumebe pressed the tip to Kokushibou’s lips.
“Open wide upper rank, I’m being kind enough to be slightly gentle despite you tempting my patience. You bite me and I’ll cut your dick off. Got it?” Kokushibou opened his warm mouth and pushed out his tongue, [Name] despite his promise’s threatening message did gently hold Kokushibou’s neck and push himself into his mouth. The graze of his canines was threatening to his manhood but gods did his mouth feel as heavenly as his cunt.
The archer hissed in pleasure and pushed himself deeper into the upper ranks tightening his throat. Feeling his bob his head as best as he could be so divine that he felt conflicted to touch him in the process. But did he? No. Instead, he bucked his and gently began to rut into Kokushibo’s mouth. His taste, smell and aura was so addictive and strong. Just the image of strength on him was heavenly. Thrusting into his mouth with the gages, pants of breath, and spit threatening to spill down the eyes of the upper rank was absolute bliss for [name]. To look down on him and see him fucking his mouth with his cock tentatively and the outline being so visible. Gods did he miss this fool's body and it being so desperate for a good fuck. Kokushibou felt the spit from his mouth and tongue dribble out his mouth in pools, almost getting into his eyes. Tears spilled along with his as Yasumebe kept fucking into his mouth. He wanted the taste of his cum in his stomach, to feed off it.
Yasumebe pulled off and in a large gasp, Kokushibou tried to push against the floor and get back his cock in his mouth but [Name] held his jaw tight. Using on-hand to undress his upper body. He pulled Kokushibou up by now his hair and made him kneel on his heels. Looking up at [name] only with tearful eyes and a slobbered face the archer only asked one thing.
“What are you?”
“Your fuck toy,” Kokushibou whispered into the thick air, the smell of sex present and he was covered in it. His upper eyes closed completely and only the lower two sets were open. [Name] yanked his head back by his hair and gripped his jaw with his other hand and made him open wide.
His tongue licked up Kokushibou’s cheek and the spit drooled down his neck and spit back into his mouth. “Swallow.” 
He gulped his spit and opened up again. Kokushibou felt the intense stare he had him in and at the moment he didn’t care how pathetic he looked. He was so desperate for whatever sources of torment he wanted to put him into. Suddenly [Names] tongue was down his throat in a heated kiss with the upper rank reciprocated happily. The groan he felt when their tongued moved against each other so perfectly. With a sound pop! The demon’s lips were connected by a string of spit. [Name]] pushed Kokushibou back onto the futon and settled between his legs. Kokushibou’s cock throbbed and jerked with the slightest of touches. [name] chuckled as he yanked his hair once more and told him. “You better get used to this upper rank, once is get into the needy and greedy cunt. I’m not going to stop. Piss yourself if needed but I’m keeping your word as a cum dump.” 
[Name] alined his cock head with the Kokushibou’s ass-pussy and pushed in slowly. The upper-ranking demon moaned loudly and bucked his hips as cum from his cock again spurted out. Yasumebe took his still erect and hard cock, jerking it roughly but slow as he pulled out of Kokushibou’s cunt. The six-eyed demon whined at the loss and wanted the sensation of being so full and the thickness he desired so badly that he nearly fucking screamed and cummed when [Name] started pistoning him roughly. The demon moaned continuously as the archer abused his prostate and aching cunt. 
This repetitive feeling building in his stomach made Kokushibou fear he was going to cum again but wanted to feel [Names]. Yes, he wanted to feel his cum fill and breed him so badly that it hurts. His whines of frustration made the archer bite down on his thigh harshly making blood spill out. The demon cocked his head up to see [name] licking up his blood but also digging his razor nails into his flesh. Pulling out his abused hole, [Name] flipped himself over. His nails must have released the lower set f robes but kept Kokushibou’s arms tied together.
[Name rested on his back, relaxing on his upper arms.
“I don’t think I need to explain to you, but I’m not doing all the work this time again upper rank.” Kokushibou moved quickly to settle onto his lap and ease his way down onto his thick cock. The mushroom tip pushing upward into his felt like heaven and with [name’s] hand jerking him, his cum covered Yasumebe’s stomach. Kokushibou keened over as he finally settled down and ground his hips slowly on the archer's lap. The moans and grunts in the room were so raw. [Name] slapped and groped Kokushibou’s ass and leaned up to suckle on his nipples. Kokushibou sensing him wanting more and again wanting to please him for his dying satisfaction, began to bounce on his cock which he threw his head back for. [Name’s] other hand started to untie the ropes behind them.
Once his hands were freed Kokushibou wrapped them around the demon’s head and ran his fingers through his scalp moaning in pure bliss. Begging to be touched again after feeling the knot in his stomach tighten again. “Pah-Please [name]! Please-let me fuck- please touch me! Please kiss-!” Kokushibou whined and moaned thinking his pleas weren’t going to be heard but he was wrong. 
“Well since you begged like a god slut, why not?” Yasumebe mumbled into his ear and allowed Kokushibou to take the reins and kiss him feverishly. Gods his cunt was swallowing his cock so good that [Name] didn’t know if he could last any longer. 
Feeling the knot in his stomach snap Kokushibou's moans were covered by the kiss and the connection between the two was covered in more of his seed. The archer groaned and lifted the six-eyes demon up and thrust upward, pounding his cunt and chasing after his climax. The upper rank moaned loudly and shook in overstimulation.
With a final snap of hips upward the archer demon, [name] moaned as he filled the upper ranks cunt. The euphoria the demon felt was surreal. Kokushibou went limp and numb. Yasumebe groaned as he filled him more and more. Not even daring to move out of his hole. Within the next few moments of rKokushibou were a blur.
One moment he is feeling [name] pull himself out and the next he feels something warm across himself. More so all around himself. What was the meaning of this? Kokushibou opened his eyes to be sitting in a tub and the archer wearing different clothing than before. How did he pass out again? “I see the aphrodisiac worked perfectly in your favor upper-rank. Had me fulled you were going to go against me in the beginning. Luckily thanks to your confession and adorable fucked out face I knew it to be true.”
Kokushibou tried to stand but his legs didn’t move.
He smelt the faint scent of a flower-like aroma- “Wisteria poison.” He wanted to question but it came as a statement.”Hmm? Yes, I’m happy you can tell now that you don’t reak of my cum. You should be grateful I cleaned you up and offered you plenty of rest after our first round.” The archer put on the large iconic hat he and other samurai from his era were known to wear. He walked up to the tub and forcefully grabbed Kokushibou’s face. A good lick up to his first set of eyes to make him shudder for good measure.”I do believe you are confused huh upper-rank one? Am I correct?” Kokushibou didn’t speak. 
“Well since you want to be rude about it, during your fucked-out stage and even before then when I used your throat as my own fleshlight. You pledged your loyalty to me. Therefore I assume you do know whatever I say and want you will complete. The bite on your leg should have healed and left a little token of my hospitality.”
The archer let go of his hair and walked out of the bathhouse room. The demon quickly lifted his legs to check what in the world he spoke about- it was the insignia of a phoenix. A small fiery bird curled on its own. Kokushibou felt a rush of memories flood back to him. 
His eyes widened, his tongue. The poison was laced within his tongue, the aphrodisiac, the kiss, and the bite-. “He planned this.” Since he had seen Kokushibou in the forest and go to rest in the abandoned estate, he planned all of this. Kokushibou sat to himself in the tub quietly. The coals in the room kept the bathhouse warm. He oddly wasn’t enraged or upset.
Rather he was happy. Happy that the archer he hated so much, was his. He was yours.
“Finally…relief.”
END <3
420 notes · View notes
blossom-hwa · 3 years
Text
pirate!ateez |2|
The continuation of the pirate ateez au inspired by pretty much every wonderland stage and the kingdom wonderland performance!! Once again credits to mai @wingkkun for the ideas that sparked san, mingi, and yeosang’s stories!
(Reading part 1 isn’t required to understand what happens here; however, there are spoilers for previous members’ stories!!)
Pairing: Ateez x gender neutral!reader
Word count: 11.9k (total)
Genre: some fluff, mostly angst, pirate!au
Triggers: cursing, blood and death (sometimes semi-graphic) - specific triggers for each section are listed below the header!
Part 1 (Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang) | Part 2 (San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho)
Ateez Masterlist
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san (ABS - specialty in swordsmanship)
warnings: cursing
so. san.
poor dude i put him through a lot in hongjoong’s part :/ he didn’t deserve that i’m sorry san
but let’s start from the beginning
unlike some of the others, san has only ever known the streets. he has no memory of real parents, just various random caretakers who ended up causing him more harm than good
there are two singular exceptions to this during san’s childhood: you and an older pirate named jongin
you’ve been there ever since san can remember. even now he’s not entirely sure how or when you two met, he must’ve been very young, but he just knows you’ve been with him for what feels like forever
the two of you wandered the streets together, begging and stealing food whenever you could
it only makes sense that you two would fall in love once you were old enough to understand it (which comes a little later than either of you would’ve liked - you’re probably sixteen or seventeen when you get the guts to press san against a wall and kiss him like person starved as san kisses back with just as much fervor)
when you were still together, it sometimes felt like you were the only reason san could stay alive
you mean the world to each other. the literal world
so that’s you - someone san knows will never abandon him willingly, will always stay by his side as long as they can
now uh moving on to jongin
you two were young when you tried to pickpocket him that one time
immediately it was clear you’d messed with the wrong guy - he noticed you two immediately and you were caught
but surprisingly, all he did was smile and offer to buy you something to eat
and being the hungry children you were (san thinks you were around twelve at the time) you said yes without a second thought
luckily jongin didn’t have any ulterior motives - in fact, he taught you and san to become better pickpockets, how to take advantage of people’s blind spots and your natural talents
so naturally, he became both of your role model
and because jongin was a pirate, you two resolved to become pirates just like him when you grew older, even asking him to take you on his ship whenever he returned to the city to visit.
but every time, jongin refuses. when you’re younger you kind of accept it, but as you and san grow older you start to insist more and more
there’s nothing left for you two here except a life still on the streets, and isn’t being a pirate pretty much the same? stealing and pillaging, just on the ocean instead of on dry land
neither you nor san flinches at blood, and you can both deal with injuries
but jongin still refuses, finally telling you just how far from heroes pirates really are. they kill and steal, often more than they need, not taking just enough money and food to survive or pass out to those less fortunate the way you and san both do
this kills the dream a little for you and san, though you both come to the conclusion that not all pirates have to be horrible - look at jongin
so you still resolve to become pirates, maybe on a crew that isn’t as terrible as the ones jongin has told you two about
this sort of dream goes on for another year or so. you and san figure out your shit and finally kiss, jongin mock claps when he finds out before disappearing again, you and san wander the streets again still with little aim but your interlocked hands are purpose enough
until you get kidnapped. 
san literally almost goes insane when he can’t find you after two days. tears around the city like a man possessed, looking everywhere you might be and then everywhere you definitely aren’t on the off chance he’ll find you
but even when jongin arrives back in the city a few weeks later and joins san’s frantic search, you’re never found
it’s all too much. way too much for san - he’s literally lost the one person who keeps him sane - and honestly the last straw is when jongin asks if he wants to join his crew now
deep inside san knows he means it out of the goodness of his heart. jongin isn’t evil and he’s hurting too with your disappearance, he’s just trying to give san a semblance of a new home
but san explodes. none of this would’ve happened if jongin had taken them in earlier, had let them join the crew together, if he’d even taught them more - it’s his fault, it’s his fucking fault
jongin tries to grab san but he just twists away - jongin’s touch feels like fire burning against his skin - and runs
for how long he runs, san genuinely doesn’t know. he just knows that he can’t stay here, can’t stay in this city anymore 
so he becomes somewhat of a highway robber? holding travelers at sword point and demanding what they have
the sword he uses was gifted to him by jongin and it makes him feel sick every time he pulls it out, but even though san is sometimes irrational, he’s not stupid - he needs a weapon, and if this is the only one he has, so be it
doesn’t matter if memories of you and an older pirate come flooding back every time he grips the handle.
san makes a name for himself - people whisper about him, tell travelers to avoid the paths he frequents, but the thing is he doesn’t really frequent anywhere. he’s a wanderer too, which makes him so dangerous because he’s so unpredictable
until hongjoong appears and san makes the mistake of challenging him to a fight. 
i say mistake but really, it was probably one of the singularly most life-changing events for san except for 1. meeting you, 2. your disappearance, and 3. leaving jongin 
because when hongjoong has his sword positioned over san’s neck and san thinks he’s about to die, hongjoong gives him a choice - join his crew or get his throat cut
san just scoffs at first and is like why would you want a highway robber on your crew? don’t you know who i am?
hongjoong does know, of course - he actually tracked san down because he needed a good swordsman to join his crew and thought san would be perfect
san is on the edge of saying no, but hongjoong is one of three people who’ve ever beaten san in a fight (jongin, you, and now joong) so he’s got a little grudging respect for the guy
but even more than that, he remembers you and remembers your pact to find a semi-decent ship and join the crew 
it seems like a childish pact now, but for some reason, once he remembers it, he can’t put it out of his mind
(maybe it’s because if you’re dead, which you probably are, san wants to at least fulfill his part of any promises you made so long ago)
so he says yes
for the first few weeks, san really considers jumping ship
seasickness is a bitch, first of all, even if the ship’s doctor is nice enough to give him tips on how to handle it
but the main issue isn’t just him being sick - it’s the people
not all of them. most are fine. but san has a particular problem with wooyoung and his partner, not because they’re assholes or anything, but because they remind him way too much of him and you. childhood friends who grew up together and wouldn’t part for the world, except they’re still joined at the hip while you’re lost
and san just thinks it’s horribly unfair that you had to be torn away from him while others are allowed to stay together
but really, the ship is better than living on the edge on land. besides woo + his partner, the others are nice, and san has found himself a match in sword fighting with hongjoong and yunho
so as time passes, san acclimates to the ship. he gets closer to everyone there and comes out of his shell, even becoming friends with yeosang whom he previously deemed too close to woo + his partner to deal with
and because yeosang is a package deal with the other two, san eventually becomes friends with them too
for the first time in a long time, san thinks he’s happy, even though he still sorely misses you and wishes you were here. but you’re dead or at least long gone, and he’s not going to find you again
so when you turn up on an enemy pirate ship several years later, san nearly has a heart attack when he sees your face (wooyoung actually has to catch him when he stumbles)
from the widening of your eyes, it’s pretty much the same reaction for you
there’s no fight, at least not then. the town your ships have docked in is safe ground for pirates, meaning the villagers will deal with them but won’t tolerate fights
so your crews resupply, all the while studiously ignoring the pirates from the other ship
but san is itching to talk to you - even just see your face one more time
you look so different yet somehow exactly the same and san wants to know what happened to you - how did you get that scar down the side of your face?
you feel the exact same way. 
when you were kidnapped, you were taken on a pirate ship that was far less respectable than hongjoong’s. meaning you went through a fucking lot
you tried to escape at least five times but each time you just got caught, so you eventually gave up. so here you are, ignoring the literal love of your life because your ship is shit and happens to have beef with hongjoong’s
meaning you couldn’t escape if you tried. 
so you’ve resigned yourself to mere stolen glimpses of san’s face but then your captain gives all of you a mission
he wants a hostage. and he wants you to lure one of them in. 
you don’t want this mission. you fucking hate it and you hate your crew and you don’t want anything more than to just run away so you just ignore it and resolve to subtly sabotage your crewmates’ efforts in any way you can
and for the most part it works
but then you’re on deck, helping one of your crewmates put some supplies away
when a crowd comes on board, bruised and bloodied, and drops choi san onto the wooden floor.
the captain is ecstatic - they’ve managed to catch hongjoong’s best swordsman, no doubt they’ll get a hefty ransom for him
but you’re not listening. all you can do is avoid san’s sharp gaze
and think of a way to help him escape.
the ship sets sail within hours, trying to get away from hongjoong as quickly as possible. san lives his days in one of the tiny cells belowdecks, barely fed between questioning sessions during which he says nothing
but he can feel hope slipping away, day by day - even he can’t break through chains, and even if he could, his sword is gone. five or six pirates he could maybe take alone without a weapon, but there are far more on this ship
still, when the ship finally docks, san has resolved to at least attempt an escape. he knows the captain is in negotiations with hongjoong over getting him back so hongjoong has to be in the same port, or at least nearby
so when someone opens the cell again, san literally launches himself at them in an aborted attempt to run
you subdue him quickly - you’re not dehydrated and underfed, after all
san just gapes into your face that’s barely lit by a torch on the wall outside his cell. he has so much he wants to say, the first being how could you do this to him, did none of your time together mean anything - 
but then you unlock the chains around his wrists, toss him a bundle of fresh clothes, and tell him to get changed
dressed in the new clothes, he looks like a member of the crew, and you tell him to keep his head down as you bring him up out of the ship and into the village
san’s still kind of dumbfounded so when you tell him to run, he doesn’t understand at first. run where?
hongjoong’s ship is in the next port, you say. on foot, it’ll take a few days to get there, so he needs as much of a head start before people realize he’s missing
therefore - you push back his forehead with a finger - fucking run, choi san. i don’t recall you being stupid before.
when he understands, he tries to tell you to come with him - hongjoong’s a decent captain, he’ll probably understand
but you shake your head. you yourself need to leave. once your captain realizes san has disappeared, it’s only a matter of time before you get found out, considering the number of unconscious and dead bodies you left in your wake, and you need to be long gone and away from san before that happens. you’re not going to bring more harm on him again. the least you could do is maybe divert their attention for a while
san’s heart sinks when he realizes you have no intention of coming with him, no matter how much he tries to convince you
and he almost starts crying again - just when he’s finally gotten you back, fate is forcing you to slip through his fingers yet again
you just hug him and apologize for everything, for getting kidnapped, for not helping him escape until now even though none of that is your fault
san says that and more, apologizes for even thinking you’ve changed - he should’ve known you were still the same person he’d fallen in love with so long ago
but there’s no more time and now you’re pushing him away and telling him he needs to go before it’s too late. in the process, you press a blade into his hand. 
for protection. 
it’s faintly familiar. and when san looks a little more closely, he realizes it’s the blade that jongin gave you so long ago, a copy of the same one he gave san. only the initials etched into the handle are different.
it makes him feel sick. san had switched his blade out for another sword the second he could, too many memories of you and jongin attached to it. but you never stopped using yours. 
that knowledge makes his insides burn with shame and he tries to give it back to you but you force him to take it. i have more weapons than just this. you have nothing. and now you need to go.
he kisses you one last time. you kiss him back with just as much fervor and when you break away, there’s a small smile on your lips 
you tell him you’re glad he’s found a kind crew, a crew he’ll be happy to remain with. you’re glad he’s luckier than you
san tries to tell you again to come with him, but you shake your head. hongjoong won’t be happy to take in a member of an enemy crew, and even if he was, that’d only turn your ship’s sights on san’s for a long time. you won’t have that. 
so you disappear with a last reminder not to be stupid, a wavering smile on your face 
it takes everything san has to return to hongjoong’s ship without chasing after you, and he’s welcomed back with open arms and warm words
but despite being back with his family, san’s heart sinks the farther they get from the harbor, knowing that he’ll probably never find out what happened to you, his original family, after this
wooyoung tries to comfort him, saying not to lose hope - after all, you met once after your separation, you might meet again
however, fate isn’t kind. san knows that very well. twice you’ve met, and twice you were separated
san hopes wooyoung is right, hopes he’ll see you once more
but as the ship cuts through the water into the open ocean and land fades from sight...
deep inside, something tells san he won’t.
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mingi (ABS)
warnings: cursing
you look me in the eyes and ask how it is possible for me to write angst for someone like mingi. i tell you i will try my best
that is a threat and a promise
anyway! let’s get on with it
mingi is a pure-hearted orphan who has somehow survived the demoralizing and horrible orphanage system in his hometown
he never knew his parents, all he’s ever known was that shitty little orphanage, it’s a miracle that didn’t break apart his pure personality
it helps that from a young age, mingi was taller and bigger than his peers - people didn’t want to mess with him
also when he’s not smiling, he can look pretty scary
but that left mingi lonelier than he wanted to be, so he resolved to smile whenever he could so that people wouldn’t feel intimidated by his stare
it didn’t win him many friends??? like the kids his age were more just weirded out by him smiling when they lived in a fucking orphanage. but he did get more free handouts from adults when he’d pretend to act like a cute kid, so he just kept doing that
eventually when he grew older, maybe mid-teens, he got a job working at his town’s port
mingi’s pretty smart and more importantly here, he’s very strong - just the type of worker his supervisors were looking for
the job is okay - not horrible, but it’s kind of boring and mingi’s supervisors aren’t always the nicest
but mingi’s always been the type of person to just content himself with the fact that hey, things could be worse
he might not have survived the orphanage
he might not have been born with strength
he might not have gotten a job that comes with a semi-stable roof over his head
so for a couple of years, this goes on, mingi helping ships unload and reload, stuff like that
until hongjoong’s ship pulls into port
it normally wouldn’t mean anything if hongjoong hadn’t been half dead on his feet with his partner and seonghwa pretty much carrying him down the gangplank
most people were just shoving them around, totally ignoring the fact that hongjoong clearly needed help
but even though his supervisor told him to go help one of the bigger ships, mingi saw hongjoong and went off to go help them
recommended a cheap place to get rest and offered to help them with some of the ship repairs so they wouldn’t have to pay so much (because their boat was... a little beaten up to say the least)
after a few days, hongjoong recovers from his sickness (brought on by exhaustion, not eating well, and god knows what else - his partner chewed him the fuck out), and they all thank mingi profusely
they’re about to leave then - the ship has been repaired thanks to mingi’s help and they’re ready to set sail again
but a glint appears in seonghwa’s eye and he suddenly turns around and asks mingi if he’d like to come with them
mingi: wha - you mean me?
seonghwa: is there another guy named mingi around?
mingi: i mean technically yeah, there’s a lee mingi working on the other end of the shipyard -
at first mingi’s like... no i don't think so because he has a stable job here, right? nothing really happens and it’s kind of boring, but being a pirate sounds kind of scary
but another part of him has been aching for something more interesting than the monotony of working at the port day in and day out
besides, hongjoong seems like a much nicer person than his supervisors
so in the end, mingi throws caution to the wind and joins the crew
he kind of questions it at first because he really doesn’t seem to have a knack for swordplay, also he kind of tends to panic/get squeamish when there are fights
but seonghwa keeps faith in him no matter what - he was the one to ask mingi if he wanted to stay, after all
so as time goes on and more people join the crew, mingi adjusts to life as a pirate. he finds his role on the ship in making repairs when they’re in port or even when they’re on board, which makes him happy - mingi likes being useful
he also likes jongho, who joins him as one of the ship’s repairmen when he ends up with the crew
he even becomes a fair swordsman - definitely not the best on the ship, not by a long shot, but after being trained by first hongjoong and then yunho (with san occasionally interjecting when he joins the crew), he definitely has the skills to defend himself and others
emphasis on others. because while mingi might panic during a fight where he’s only defending himself, when those he cares for come into play, mingi is a demon. an absolute demon. 
an enemy pirate once got within a hair’s breadth of killing seonghwa once and mingi just unleashed absolute fury. first time he ever killed someone
it haunts him sometimes, but the knowledge that he was protecting seonghwa keeps him from dwelling on it too much. that’s how much mingi cares about his crew
and that comes into play when you enter his story
you’re the child of a couple corrupt aristocrats who have never, not once in their lives, given you the attention you deserved
no matter what you did, they didn’t care
you studied your ass off. you worked so hard on swordplay. you’re literally the golden child in the aristocratic circles of your region and other nobles wish you were their child, but all your parents ever do is give you a passing glance and a fake smile
sure they’ll praise you at parties and things when they talk to other nobles, but it’s all empty - they only barely remember all of your accomplishments. they just don’t care
then one day, hongjoong’s crew pisses off your family - ruins trade at some port or whatever
so your father puts a bounty on his crew’s heads
it’s not exactly a common thing to put bounties on the heads of pirates, but it can happen if a crew fucks around a little too much
and when the bounty goes out for the crew of the aurora (hongjoong’s ship), you seize on it as your last chance to gain your parents’ approval, the approval you’ve been seeking for quite literally your entire life
you’re not dumb - you know it’ll be hard, and you know your family is only going to be completely satisfied if you bring back proof that the captain is dead. not some other random crew member, though that’s a step in the right direction
you decide to go for one of those crew members first, preying on the fact that if one goes missing, the captain will likely be easier to capture
you’ve heard stories about hongjoong, he isn’t heartless. he actually does care about his crew, each of whom plays an integral role on the ship
which means if you can get one of them, you can lure him out - you might not even have to kill off the rest of the crew if you can just take him out
therefore you set your eyes on one song mingi. from the rumors he’s the worst at fighting, but he’s also essential when it comes to ship repairs 
the perfect target for your plan
so you set out on your journey. your idea is to try and see if you can befriend mingi somehow, get him to trust you, then take him hostage
and somehow, you get lucky at the first port you visit - hongjoong’s ship is right there, aurora emblazoned on its side
it’s not hard to spot mingi - he’s one of the tallest, and he’s busy tinkering around the side of the ship
it’s even easier to get his attention
because your master plan is simple and dumb as fuck
fall into the water and pretend to drown. 
mingi, being the pure-hearted lovely soul he is, jumps in to save you despite you being very able to swim
he’s worrying over you when he pulls you out of the ocean, spitting and choking water
and all you can think is 1. mingi is very handsome but more importantly 2. all of this is genuine. like too genuine
it unnerves you - how can a pirate be so pure of heart?
but you push that thought away. there has to be some hidden side of mingi that he hasn’t shown yet, he’s a pirate after all. you can’t feel guilt for using him - you need to gain your parents’ approval. you need to
so you do your damn best to keep him in port. every night you go out and subtly undo some of the repairs he’s made and create a few new problems as well
the ship ends up staying in port for a few more weeks than expected
and during that time, you find that mingi... is really not hiding anything
at all
you keep trying to prod at him when you invite him to bars for a drink, when you “coincidentally” catch him on the streets, etc. 
but there’s nothing to mingi except his very kind personality that sometimes, against your better judgement, sweeps you off your feet
like when that horse-drawn carriage almost hit you and mingi pulled you away just in time
or when you bumped into the wrong person and they pulled a knife on you that mingi was fast enough to deflect
by the time those several weeks are over, you haven’t made any headway in your plan to kidnap mingi
you tell yourself that it’s fine, this mission was always going to take a long time - you could be here for over a year before the right opportunity presents itself after all, and mingi probably doesn’t trust you enough just yet for that to work anyway
mingi ends up sailing off again, and he promises to come back
also makes you promise to stay and wait for him. 
you tell yourself another lie, that you’re happy he’s asking you to wait just because it’ll make your plan so much easier - plus, it means he likes you, which is a step towards trust
it’s definitely not because mingi’s smile is as bright as the sun itself. 
the next time you see the aurora come into port, you swear to yourself you’ll do it this time. you’ll kidnap mingi, force hongjoong to come out so you can put his head on a silver platter
but it doesn’t happen. and the next time it doesn’t happen, either. 
and in the end, you have to accept that the reason you keep sabotaging the ship, trying to keep mingi in port as long as you can, is that you like his smile. way more than you actually should. 
some stupidly hopeful part of you tries to convince you that it’ll be fine, you can continue living like this
but another part of you knows lies never last
and a last part of you screams that you’re a disappointment to your family, falling in love with one of the pirates your parents have put a bounty on when that pirate probably doesn’t even love you back
he does, though. he really does
mingi loves the curve of your lips when you smile genuinely, when the clouds in your eyes disappear for a moment of pure, blessed happiness
he’s fallen in love with your mind, with your quick wit and light banter when you speak
for the past two trips on the ocean, mingi has dreamed of little more than holding you close and kissing you and he’d resolved to that, finally, when he came back this time
which is why his heart completely shatters when he finds you by the ship one dark night, carefully undoing some of the repairs he made just this morning
he never suspected it, but as he stands, watching you work, the pieces begin to click together
mingi isn’t stupid, after all - he knows you’re smart, knows you’re good with your hands, and you’ve also been extremely secretive about your past
even more secretive than he is about being a pirate.
you sense his presence when he gets closer before he even says anything and your hands freeze
for a moment, neither of you says anything
then mingi just lets out a cracked why?
you could lie. you consider it for a few frantic moments, mind working to conjure something credible 
but it’s mingi. it’s fucking song mingi, the pirate you’ve fallen in love with against every single one of your wishes
so the truth behind all of your lies spills out in one go
in the moonlight, you can see mingi’s eyes turn from confused and betrayed to even more betrayed
but what really drives it home is when you mention hongjoong, and how you were trying to use mingi to lure him out
mingi’s eyes turn angry for the first time since you’ve met him
because like i said, mingi doesn’t take kindly to anyone who tries to hurt those whom he cares about
like yeah, he cares about you, but hongjoong is his captain, the captain who’s saved mingi’s life multiple times, often at risk of his own
that’s when mingi’s eyes narrow and his expression turns cold
a chill runs down your back, a chill you’ve never felt before in his presence
and mingi tells you then and there that he better not see you ever again
because if he does, it won’t end well
you’re in the next town before you allow yourself to process anything that just happened, mainly because you know that if you try you’ll start crying
and that’s exactly what happens in a dark little tavern at the edge of the city
you cry over yourself, over losing mingi, over failing your stupid mission for stupid parents who were never going to accept you anyway
you cry because you hurt someone so pure of heart just for two cold aristocrats who didn’t give a shit
you cry because now you have no purpose in life - you’ve catered your entire existence to your parents, and they don’t even care
what’s the point of anything now?
back on the ship, mingi doesn’t cry. he just stares at the fading town as the aurora draws farther and farther from land
your story plays in his mind over and over again
he sympathizes for you, he really does - mingi isn’t cruel or heartless, he heard the desperation in your voice when you talked about your parents and he’s seen the clouds in your eyes firsthand
but it doesn’t change the fact that you’d sought him out with the intention of hurting his crew beyond repair
he tries to tell himself this as comfort, to reaffirm that he did the right thing by chasing you off
deep inside, though, even if he’s sure he did right
the pain of a broken heart and what could have been, he knows, will never fully go away.
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wooyoung (ABS)
warnings: cursing, death, blood
before i start i’d like to preemptively apologize
probably should’ve done that before every other part too idk why i'm only doing it now
maybe it’s because this one is 3.4k long and the second longest is a mere 2.8k (fuck you san)
doesn’t matter i've done it please don’t come for me
wooyoung is a ball of pure sunshine aboard the ship. almost literally
sometimes shines a little too bright (ie he gets annoying), but without him, the crew would fall into darkness
but a light needs a source, doesn’t it? it doesn’t just spontaneously emit out of nowhere - fires need kindling, candles need wax, even the sun burns on fuel
and wooyoung’s fuel is you.
like i mentioned in san’s part, you and wooyoung are childhood friends. probably not quite as long as san and his partner - you met when you were a bit older, maybe just after you turned twelve or something, but that doesn’t mean your bond is any less strong
wooyoung remembers your first meeting very clearly - in fact, it’s one of his favorite memories
some older kids were pushing him around, and wooyoung was just trying to run away
he’d just broken free and was running off when a hand grabbed his wrist, dragging him behind an empty market stall, and another hand slapped over his mouth to muffle his cry of surprise
the older kids ran past, then stopped, looking confused, but when they couldn’t see wooyoung anywhere they just left
you finally let go of wooyoung and he turns around to look at you
and from then on, he swears you’re his savior
seriously, wooyoung thinks you’re literally the greatest fucking thing on this planet. might not act like it all the time because he’s a little shit, but you mean more to him than anything in the world
you don’t plan to get attached to him, not at first - you’re a little more standoffish, you told wooyoung you only helped him because you really hate the group of kids that was messing with him
but wooyoung attaches himself to you like a fucking limpet and as the months pass, you find you don’t mind. not at all. 
you’re both street orphans, pickpockets and all that - neither of you are in the orphanage (wooyoung just never ended up there, while you ran away early on) and you’ve both been alone for a long while, so it’s nice to have someone with whom you can trust your back
and as time goes on, you start thinking of wooyoung less as an ally and more as a friend, then less as a friend and more as someone you love
wooyoung, on the other hand, has been head over heels since day one - getting into your space, pressing stupid little kisses onto your dirty face even as you try to bat him away
but he obviously doesn’t make a move at first because he’s like fucking twelve and doesn’t understand what he feels, and when he grows older and figures it out, he refrains from doing too much (like kissing your lips) because you don’t seem to feel the same way
except you are an impatient fuck
so once you figure it out and more importantly, you figure wooyoung out, it takes less than a day for you to have him pressed up against a wall, kissing him with all the strength you can muster
when you pull away, lips swollen and eyes suddenly shy, wooyoung tries to crack a joke like wow, didn’t know i was that irresistible
you just smirk and say you’re the one who’s been staring at my lips day in, day out for the past several years, woo
oh yeah that’s when wooyoung knows you’re the one
(he does ask why the fuck you waited so long if you noticed everything over the past few years)
(the truth is you only really figured it out a few days ago, but you tell him you just wanted him to suffer)
(it cues a lot of angry whining and cute pouts even though he knows it’s a joke so what can you do but kiss him until he shuts up?)
anyway you and wooyoung more or less rule your small section of the streets
master pickpockets and all that, plus you know how to use a knife very well and wooyoung is adept at fighting with whatever the fuck happens to be nearby
you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and though you never truly lie, your reasonable-sounding words always have several layers of meaning, which is very useful in negotiations
meanwhile wooyoung is just really, really good at sliding out of sticky situations - you turn your head the other way for one second and he’s disappeared
people don’t really dare mess with either of you because they know that if one of you get hurt, the other will literally go out for blood
the same goes for yeosang - you met the quiet orphanage boy on one of the rare times he went outside, and everyone knows not to mess with him since he’s under your protection
this reputation precedes you, which is why you and wooyoung are very surprised when a tall, gangly looking dude comes into your little pocket of territory looking very lost
both of you immediately think this is someone good to pickpocket, or at least harangue for news - he’s clearly not from here
too bad mingi has a hongjoong on his side who is very worriedly looking for his tall lost repairman
and in the middle of you two getting up in mingi’s space, hongjoong appears, wielding a very scary-looking sword
both you and wooyoung know this is someone not to be messed with, but curiosity gets the better of you - who is this guy, why is he here, and why doesn’t he know to stay away?
instead of asking, though, you both run away fast enough that hongjoong doesn’t have to deal with you
the next day, though, when you see a familiar face with a familiar sword hanging around the market, you decide to tail him for a bit
turns out he’s a pirate, which is intriguing in and of itself - it also explains the unfamiliarity with the territory
but what’s even more intriguing is how he manages to defend himself against your knives all the while answering your peppered questions in the most evasive manner possible
in the end, hongjoong has you pinned against an alley wall, sword inches from your throat
he clearly expects you to start begging for your life
but you just laugh breathlessly and say - hey, i’ve got two friends who’ve got nothing left here, just like me. do you have an opening for three on your crew?
hongjoong thinks you’re joking but you’re dead serious. there’s nothing in this town, you’re sick and tired of pickpocketing people and protecting your little territory to no end - there’s no point to it all
you know wooyoung feels the same way. he’s so energetic, always looking for something new, and even though he doesn’t say anything, you know he’s itching to get out of here
yeosang might take a little convincing, but if you can prey correctly on his desire to visit the lands he’s only ever marked on maps, he’ll come too
hongjoong asks what you have to offer to his crew. you say a sharp tongue, resourceful fighters, a navigator
and most importantly, a source of light. 
(hongjoong doesn’t ask and you don’t elaborate on the last one, even though you can see a hint of confusion in his eyes)
he gives you two days to convince wooyoung and yeosang, if you don’t show up by then he’s setting sail
wooyoung is convinced almost immediately - his only qualm is seasickness, and you tell him he’ll get used to it
yeosang takes a little more effort, but with your persuasion skills, he agrees
and so the three of you join hongjoong’s crew
being a pirate isn’t as glorious as you originally thought it’d be - the first few weeks are just being seasick all the time, and there are fewer fights and less exploring than you’d like, more just running around and maintaining the ship
but the crew makes up for it more than tenfold
you and wooyoung have never really had family - just each other and then yeosang
but now that you’re with the crew, that sense of home you’ve only ever felt with woosang just multiplies
you love it on the ship. so does wooyoung
(he says it’s because there are so many hidden places where you can hide to kiss, but you think it’s because he has seonghwa to annoy now and not just you + yeosang)
both of you are on cloud nine, even with the nonstop work day in and day out
it’s all worth it when you can see the new cities, pilfer a little something in the marketplaces every now and then
life goes on like this - some crew members are lost and others join
you mourn for those gone, especially hongjoong’s partner, and you try to welcome the new members as best you can
(san is a tough nut to crack, but in the end, you and wooyoung are both happy that you kept at it long enough to see the results)
it’s a constant give or take - you know the ocean isn’t kind, know that the life of a pirate isn’t kind, and you’ve learned to live with it even though a piece of your heart breaks away with every crew member who falls
but then yeosang falls. literally. 
and wooyoung begins to fade away.
wooyoung feels his emotions deeply, he’s always known that - it’s what binds him so strongly to you and what bound him so strongly to yeosang
so when he fell during that battle, stabbed several times, and could only watch yeosang fall into the ocean from the crow’s nest - essentially yeosang’s home on the ship - 
wooyoung cries for hours after the battle, locked in your arms
and for once, even the knowledge that you’re by his side doesn’t seem to be enough to fill the void left by yeosang’s loss
the entire crew is experienced with their own types of loss, loss of partners and friends
but this is the first time wooyoung has felt it so deeply, like a knife carving out a hole in his chest
eventually, though, he recovers
it takes months, but he still has you. he still has san. he still has yeosang’s grieving friend, who might have become his partner had he lived, and he still has all of the crew
and you let him latch onto you whenever the void comes creeping on him again, because though wooyoung might be the light, you’re the source of fuel that keeps his sputtering flame burning
(guilt eats at you, too - you’re the one who convinced yeosang to join the crew, after all. but wooyoung calls it bullshit - you’re not at fault, not at all, yeosang understood what he was risking - and when he latches onto you, you take your own comfort in the warmth of his arms)
life goes on after the battle and yeosang’s death. wooyoung takes a long time to recover from his injuries and you’re by his side the entire way
but then san gets kidnapped and wooyoung almost goes off the deep end again - he can’t lose another friend
thankfully, san returns, so wooyoung doesn’t lose himself completely
but he begins to fear the disappearance or death of one of those whom he loves even more than he used to
as time goes on, he realizes he might not be able to handle the life of a pirate - he cares too deeply, too much, losing the people he cares for is breaking him slowly, bit by bit
you ask him what’s wrong one day and he spills all of this to you, sobbing
the next day you ask hongjoong to leave you and wooyoung at the next port - you can’t be on the crew anymore
hongjoong asks why, but when you explain he doesn’t even hesitate to nod and thanks you for your service
he does say that he’ll miss the source of light on his ship, the light and its kindling, but if this is what you and wooyoung really want, then it’s what he’ll give you
wooyoung feels a guilty sense of relief when you bring him back the news - he’s relieved that you two are going to leave, but there’s also the guilt of taking you away from a life that you enjoy
but you remind him that he’s your life. wooyoung is everything to you, and if he isn’t happy, you’re not going to be happy, no matter what
so it’s settled that you two will split off from the crew at the next port, which you’ll reach after a few weeks of sailing, maybe
you reach the port and are ready to part ways, saying goodbye to the rest of the crew
the aurora is staying in port for a couple of days for repairs, and you and wooyoung decide to stick around for at least the night before you go off
you go on a walk that night with him, darkened streets lit up by evenly spaced torches and lanterns
which is why you see the other ship pull into port with a navy seal on its side. and your blood freezes. 
with one look, you and wooyoung are racing off to where you know the crew of the aurora is staying because you have to warn them
hongjoong looks grim. there’s a fight, it’s going to be inevitable, and you can feel wooyoung tensing up next to you
your former captain says you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to, you’re technically not part of the crew anymore
but one look between you and wooyoung settles it. one last battle to help the family that took you in
the battle is in the dark, bloody and brutal and made even worse by the fact that you can’t see the rivers of blood flowing down the streets - it’s all a mess of sticky black that your feet leave tracks in on the roads
you and wooyoung are back to back with san, the three of you fighting to the last
until there’s finally an opening and you manage to escape into a little alley
except the alley ends in a wall. a wall tall enough to climb over, maybe, but wooyoung has a wound in his stomach and san’s bleeding out of his side and you’ve got injuries of your own so you’re wholly, completely fucked
as several naval soldiers appear at the end of the alley, all you can think is how you and wooyoung were supposed to have gone off today, were supposed to have left to find a more stable life together
but at the same time, you know that if you hadn’t stayed for the night, your crew, your family, might not have gotten enough warning to save at least a few of their lives
wooyoung is starting to wheeze behind you. san doesn’t look much better, and you feel like you’re going to collapse
there are four soldiers standing in front of you, and there’s no shred of uncertainty in your mind when you think we’re not going to survive this
except - maybe if you can buy yourselves some time - 
your eyes light on one of the torches on the side of the alley and a really dumb plan springs into your mind
you spring forward, ignoring wooyoung’s cry, and snatch up the still-burning torch
with a prayer that the ground is flammable, you hurl the torch in front of you 
and thankfully, a flame begins to burn
you turn around and start helping wooyoung boost san over the wall
wooyoung is about to go next, grasping san’s hands - you go to help push him up
but then metal flashes in corner of your eye and you have to whirl away, dropping wooyoung to dodge the sword that came a hair’s breadth within slicing the skin off your cheek
how the soldier got past the fire, you have no idea - it’s still burning
maybe they got over it when it was still low
but then there are two shadows, not just one, both with blades flashing
and you know with a stark certainty that both you and wooyoung are going to die if you don’t get up that wall immediately
the problem is, there isn’t enough time to get both of you up - one is going to be slashed to pieces by the time it’s their turn
but one of you...
you block one of the blades and send the soldier crashing to the ground. the other is farther away and for one split second, you lock eyes with them
there’s enough light to see your smirk
give me a moment here, will you? you say
then you turn around and kiss wooyoung on the mouth. 
it’s a brief kiss, barely longer than a second, but it’s all you have time for before you bodily lift wooyoung as much as you can so that san can reach him, arms pulling him up
san acts on reflex - he doesn’t realize what you’re planning just yet and neither does wooyoung
but they sure as hell figure it out when you duck under the second soldier’s swipe and begin fighting, despite the blood streaming from your face and body
in the background, you can hear wooyoung screaming and no doubt he’s thrashing around in san’s grip
but it’s all you can do to focus on the fight at hand - two against one with the one injured isn’t fair, but since when has the navy played fair?
you notice the sword flashing down at your side. you notice it, but you’re not fast enough
white hot pain bursts below your rib cage and you fall to your knees, blades clattering from your hands
another explosion of pain enters your back and you let out a scream of agony, collapsing to the ground
wooyoung watches you fall in the moonlight, red and black blood pooling beneath you
and only then does he stop thrashing in san’s hold
because he’s crying too hard, too hard to see or do anything but let a silently crying san carry him away
san takes him back to the ship where hongjoong manages to set sail in record time, leaving the navy behind
wooyoung doesn’t even move from where san has laid him on the floorboards - the only sign he’s still alive are his eyes, deadened eyes that track the land they’ve left behind, growing smaller and smaller in the distance
the land that holds your body
the body he’ll never see again.
several hours pass. someone’s moved him into the medbay, wooyoung doesn’t know who because all he can see is you collapsing to the ground over and over again, dark blood flowing endlessly from your wounds
tears build up behind his eyes again and he wants to scream, scream how nothing is fair, nothing is fucking fair, he was the one who wanted a new life that wasn’t that of a pirate and you were just going along with it but now he’s still alive and on the same fucking pirate ship he wanted to leave in the first place 
and he’s lost both of his childhood friends, first yeosang to the waves and now you to the navy
with this loss, wooyoung is grasping his will to live by a mere thread
and he isn’t even sure he wants to hang on any longer.
there is no sun aboard the aurora anymore, at least not in the form of jung wooyoung
because once a fire’s fuel is gone, it can no longer burn
and wooyoung’s fuel is out.
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jongho (ABS)
warnings: cursing, death, blood
ah yes jongho stronk boy
when i listed the best fighters i bet you were expecting me to put him in there too
but what i meant by best fighters is best sword fighters
see, jongho is extremely good at fighting and has the arms to prove it
however, his skills don’t solely lie in swords - hongjoong/yunho/san are better than him there - but he will fight with whatever the fuck else happens to also be around him
mingi sometimes likes to bring up that one time there was an enemy pirate fighting next to him and jongho just picked him up, swung him, and knocked out a second enemy pirate right then and there
so yeah. that’s jongho. well-rounder extraordinaire
no one knows how the fuck he’s so good at everything and at this point most of the crew is afraid to ask
but anyway let’s talk about the back story a little shall we
unlike most of the others, jongho has parents that he remembers and as far as he knows are still alive
however that does not mean he likes them
they weren’t abusive, exactly - they just were never around and when they were, jongho mostly got ignored or ordered around to do stuff like cook dinner or fucking whatever
so that’s what he suffers through for most of his childhood
during that time, he learns how to be pretty self-sufficient - he’s the one who takes care of himself, after all
he learns to cook, clean, etc.
but most importantly he learns to repair things, like the house
he gets really good at it too, to the point that people start hiring him to help them with fixing their shit
which is how hongjoong finds him
well, more accurately, yunho finds him
the aurora has docked in jongho’s town after a long storm and the ship has a lot of damage that’s going to take mingi a lot of time to fix
so yunho sets out to find someone who they can hire to help mingi out
he asks around and everyone recommends jongho, so yunho goes to find him. after losing his partner in that storm, hongjoong is in no shape to leave the ship, san is still recovering from injuries and guilt, and seonghwa’s busy tending to the crew members and making sure they don’t fall apart
when jongho answers the knock on his door, yunho is like ???? at first because what the fuck this guy can’t even be older than him - is he really that good at fixing things??
tbh yunho was expecting some middle aged man with massive muscles or something
but jongho’s staring at him like wtf do you want and yunho remembers he actually has a purpose here plus jongho does have really big muscles even if he isn’t middle aged so he’s like hi i heard you’re jongho can you help us fix our ship we’ll pay you
and what’s jongho gonna do? say no? 
so he works with mingi for the best part of a couple of months, fixing up the aurora
and during that time, he meets the rest of the crew, who come and go
jongho gets to know them and he grows to like them - he used to be a pretty solitary person, but it’s really impossible to stay that way after meeting one jung wooyoung and his partner
even after he puts it together that they’re pirates, he still likes them
jongho isn’t stupid, it’s pretty obvious after working with mingi for a couple of weeks - they talk of treasure and travels when they think he doesn’t hear
but really, jongho doesn’t care too much - pay is pay, no matter who it comes from
and really, pirates can’t be much worse than the greedy nobles and aristocrats who run his city, right? their illegal acts are just blatant and out in the open, while the aristocracy try to keep their wrongdoings under wraps
he does ask mingi about it one day - why he decided to join the crew of the aurora
after the initial spluttering of we’re not pirates, cueing jongho’s deadpan expression that has mingi immediately quailing, mingi tells jongho more or less his story of joining the crew
maybe a few embellishments because yknow it’s mingi and we love him for it
and jongho listens carefully. his story is a little similar to mingi’s, actually, even if he knows his parents and was never at an orphanage
they were both alone, they both learned to do repair work...
that night, jongho lies awake in bed in his empty house, thinking about what mingi said
as they continue working, jongho prods mingi for more and more stories about the crew and their adventures, and though he visibly shies away from some topics (major fights and major storms, particularly the one that drove them into this port), mingi tells jongho enough for him to see that hongjoong’s crew isn’t immoral. far from it, really
there’s no explaining away the battles and murder and pillaging, but as far as jongho is concerned, at least they’re upfront about it
nobility does the same shit, they just prefer to call murder “the hanging of criminals” and pillaging “taxes”
and jongho is tired of both
after about a month or a month and a half, he decides to himself that he wants to join the aurora
so he asks mingi one day how hongjoong might feel if jongho wanted to join the crew
he doesn’t know hongjoong, he’s only caught maybe a glimpse or two of the captain because he’s been grieving this whole time, which is why he goes to mingi first
mingi tells him to come back the next day, he’ll see if seonghwa can better answer that question as the second in command since hongjoong is still out
seonghwa takes a liking to jongho almost immediately, and the feeling is mutual
even just minutes after meeting, seonghwa gives jongho the sense that he truly cares for him in a way that jongho really hasn’t felt before, not even from his own parents
so the deal is settled and after the repair job is finished, jongho returns to his small home to pack up his stuff. the next day, he’s sailing into the open ocean without looking back
like almost every other new crew member, jongho gets seasick for the first few weeks he isn’t on land
meaning he stays in the medbay more often than he’d like to
but it’s fine - because that’s where he meets you
you’re the ship’s doctor. relatively new since the last doctor was killed in battle maybe half a year ago, but wooyoung was lucky enough to befriend you, an apothecarist’s apprentice, in one of the towns the aurora docked in 
you come from a town that’s a safe zone of sorts for pirates - the locals are friendly if wary, and pirates don’t get into fights on your land
it’s a pretty decent existence if you ignore the fact that royalty/nobles would have all of your heads if they could find definitive proof that your town likes to harbor criminals, but people keep their mouths shut here so it doesn’t happen
however, as decent as this existence is, you got a bit of the short end of the stick
your parents died after you were apprenticed to the apothecarist, leaving you with no nearby relatives or places to stay other than the orphanage or the apothecary
and the orphanage in your town majorly sucks so you just opted to stay at the apothecary
except the apothecarist is not a good human being. major leech. creepy. you hated being around him any more than necessary
which means you learned everything as fast as you could just so you could stay away and look after customers on your own
and when the opportunity to use your skills elsewhere came up, you barely hesitated before telling wooyoung please get me the fuck out of here
only thing that made you balk was the possibility of death on the seas, but you’re young and naive and when you’re at that age, you feel like you’re invincible - therefore you brush it off
plus, everyone dies eventually, right?
you’re the new blood for several months until jongho joins the crew
and because he’s the new guy now, you take it upon yourself to familiarize him with how the ship and the crew work while he’s currently bedridden
it gives him something to focus on other than the rolling sea beneath him
and it’s nice to talk to someone who’s just mildly sick and not bleeding to fucking death
even after jongho gets better, he continues to spend a lot of his free time in the medbay because he likes being around you. your voice is soothing and somewhere in the back of his mind, he probably associates it with care and comfort, given how you treated him during those first few weeks
slowly but surely, you grow closer and closer
you’re the one jongho goes to when he feels a little stifled, too used to independence on land and unfamiliar with the teamwork that comes with being part of a crew
and you like to talk to him when you’re exhausted after treating wound after wound after wound after a harsh storm or bloody battle
it feels like you understand him, no matter what, and jongho does his best to lend you a listening ear as well - it’s the least he can do
you feel comforting, but in a different way from the rest of the crew
like yeah, seonghwa’s comforting in that mother sort of way, hongjoong has that tired dad vibe where jongho knows he can go to him with whatever, and the rest of ateez are like older brothers he knows he can trust
but there’s something different about you
he figures it out, of course, because jongho isn’t dumb or clueless - but he is a little afraid of being so attached to you
because what if he loses you? then what happens?
he tries to go to seonghwa to talk about it because he’s genuinely so scared
but seonghwa’s not in his room and instead, a tired-looking hongjoong catches jongho in the hallway knocking on seonghwa’s door and asks what he needs from hwa
jongho is slightly nervous because he hasn’t spoken that much to joong, or at least not as much as some of the other crew - after all, he joined the crew when hongjoong was still in grieving and has only really been talking to him for a few months
and by now he knows what happened to hongjoong’s partner in the storm - the same storm that wrought the damage on the aurora that jongho helped repair
so he isn’t sure if it’s a good idea to talk to joong about it
but hongjoong presses him a little, saying that hwa is dealing with some other stuff at the moment and that jongho can talk to joong if he wants
so in a fit of recklessness (he’s also been holding it in for kind of a while, he needs to talk), jongho spills it in hongjoong’s office
and hongjoong goes silent. 
jongho regrets his entire existence during the few minutes of silence and he’s opening his mouth to apologize and take his leave
but hongjoong talks first
and he says to go for it. 
you can’t live your life in fear of what might happen, especially when it comes to love
losing love hurts, but the memories you make are worth the pain
hongjoong’s eyes look haunted, but there’s a faint smile on his face that jongho somehow knows isn’t faked - his words are the truth
and he takes them as comfort when he goes to talk to you later about how he feels
turns out you’ve felt the same way for a while, but you didn’t think the feelings were reciprocated so you didn’t say anything, just kept caring for him in the ways you know best
you talk the entire night about what this means for the two of you, and it ends with you and jongho holding each other on one of the medbay beds, curled into the other’s warmth
it turns out to be a blessing that jongho talked to hongjoong about this and not someone else
mingi/yunho/san don’t have partners on the ship, while wooyoung and his partner have been together for literally forever - getting together was barely a decision for them, more like the only logical path to follow
seonghwa would’ve been good to talk to, probably - he lost his partner (at this point he still thinks they’re dead) and would’ve said something similar to hongjoong 
he still wears the ring, after all
but the talk with hongjoong breaks down that last wall between him and jongho, and they grow closer
which is something jongho really appreciates, because hongjoong is as dependable as seonghwa and another figure jongho can now trust
life goes on - it gets better for jongho, actually, what with you and finally growing close to every member of the crew
he loves sword fighting practice and delights in terrorizing his crew members during mock fights by using whatever happens to be nearby, not just his sword
he also loves sitting with you on deck and breaking an apple in half, wordlessly handing one part to you and keeping the other for himself, all the while staring at the clouds during the day or the stars at night
just being near you makes jongho instantly feel not safer, but more comforted
because jongho’s in as much danger as he always was, he knows that
but having you close by makes him feel more able to handle that danger.
at least, until yeosang dies. 
jongho watches him being flung off the crow’s nest and into the water, never to resurface
watches his partner race to the railing and scream until their throat goes raw and the screams die to begging wails
the scene replays itself in his head again and again after the battle is over
only instead of it being yeosang flung through the air, it’s you
which doesn’t make sense. you’re the doctor, you stay belowdecks during fights and have never ventured into the crow’s nest as far as he knows
but suddenly jongho is confronted with the very real fear that you could die any second
he knew that before, but like you, he was young and reckless and thought himself invincible
now, though, he knows what could happen
and it worries him. you’re not the worst at fighting on the ship, you can defend yourself pretty well, but you don’t have have as much experience as even mingi because 1. you’ve been on the ship for less time, and 2. you don’t go above decks during fights - you stay in the medbay with someone designated to protect you. a ship’s doctor is valuable, after all
your instincts are to heal, not to destroy, and that terrifies jongho
it gets even worse after wooyoung loses his partner and jongho sees the shell that he’s become
jongho didn’t see it happen, but san tells him and seonghwa several days later, eyes haunted as he tries to describe the sight of wooyoung’s partner jerking under the blades, wooyoung going limp as a rag doll as they fell, san being forced to bring basically a corpse back to the ship - the only reason he knew wooyoung himself wasn’t dead was because of the tears running down his face
the story cuts deep into jongho’s heart - wooyoung’s partner was a very good fighter, far better than you, and even they were lost
what if it was you, not them?
jongho decides it’s better to be paranoid than to do nothing and he trains you harder, asking san/yunho/hongjoong to help
you notice the change in his demeanor but don’t question it - after all, you’re wrestling with similar thoughts to his
you confide to him during long nights with you two curled up together on one of the infirmary beds and jongho talks, too
neither of you wants to end this, and you both agree that ending it won’t do much, anyway - you still live on the same ship together, and breaking apart will only hurt you two more
but jongho wishes there was something he could do about this constant fear that he’s going to lose you
wooyoung is still a shell of his former self - jongho doesn’t know if he’d become the same way if you died, and he doesn’t want to test it out
he tries to ignore the fear, to just enjoy every day with you like it’s his last
pressing his lips to yours always makes him feel a little better, anyway
the fear never goes away, though - it’s almost like something is warning him that he will soon suffer the same fate as wooyoung and his partner
jongho ignores it. prays to every higher being he knows that you’ll be safe and extends his prayers to those he doesn’t even know
but prayers don’t work when fate has already decided its path. 
the battle comes quickly, and jongho is thrown into the fray, incapacitating as many navy members as he can
he’s so focused on the fight to see the two navy soldiers going belowdecks
because nobody goes belowdecks. the fight stays on top of the ship, only when the ship is being pillaged after the fight do they go below to see what’s there
but since when have naval officers played fair?
jongho has just stabbed an enemy soldier when he hears the muffled yell through the floorboards
a yell of fear, familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time because he knows the voice, but he’s never heard it so frightened
no one has ever seen jongho move that fast. he crashes through the throng of individual battles, earning himself a scrape in the side and several cut ons his arms, but in the moment, he doesn’t feel any of the stinging pain
he crashes belowdecks and freezes for a second at the sight of a dead crew member on the floor, the crew member who was assigned to guard you during this battle
and in that frozen moment, he realizes that there’s no screaming anymore. 
jongho throws himself into the medbay
and the first thing he registers is the blood all over the floor.
grief pulls a desperate cry from his lips
the soldiers turn around
and jongho doesn’t know what happens next.
when his mind catches up to the present, jongho’s throat is raw and two naval officers are dead at his feet, their blood seeping into the floorboards, almost ripped apart
but he can’t even take sick satisfaction in that
because no matter how much navy blood he spills, you will still be gone
dead
your blood staining the medbay floors
jongho falls to his knees - blood soaks into his pants, your blood or the officers’ blood, he doesn't have any fucking clue
all he knows is that you’re dead, gone forever the way he always feared
and no amount of blood he spills will ever bring you back.
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If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3
(1 reblog = 1 prayer for me these parts were so much longer than they should’ve been I think I’m going insane)
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Origami King but it’s Mr. L Headcanons
@boom-fanfic-a-latta made some of these, and I thought “oh, yep, this is a thing I’m doing now”. So, some headcanons of this AU, brought to you by me.
-Mr. L is the mom friend. If the mom friend is sleep deprived, irritated, and ready to throw hands at any moment, either to his children or to his enemies.
-Mario takes great joy in annoying Mr. L to no end, mostly by referencing this Luigi person, who apparently L looks like.
-Mr. L gets really, really, REALLY annoyed when the heroes and companions all try killing themselves in some noble gesture. (BOBBY COUGH COUGH)
-”Sit DOWN, Red, you just fought like twelve office supplies without stopping! I will literally tie you to this bench if you don’t stop and heal!”
-”BOBBY. If you wanted explosives you could have just ASKED.”
-”OLIVIA. I swear to god, if you try killing yourself for some reason with this wish I will start throwing hands!”
-“WHY DO YOU ALL WANT TO KILL YOURSELVES LIKE THIS?!”
-Mr. L makes fun of Olly literally every time he sees him. 
-“My god, I don’t even KNOW my evil backstory, but I do know it’s better than that! ‘Oh, I ordered pepperoni pizza and they gave me Hawaiian! I hate everything now and I’m going to murder everyone!’”
-He calls Olly emo boy or some variation thereof. Your Royal Edginess is one of his favorites.
-L has nicknames for every Legion of Stationery member. He calls the scissors anime swordsman.
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Short AU Fanfic:Fated Battle of Brothers
Suigetsu and Kisame are swinging blades. Each time blades meet,shockwaves are made.
"Dammit,why i feel like i am nearly out of chakra?!" Suigetsu says,falling back a few meters to think and learn what's happening to him.
"At first i thought you're even better than zabuza but it seems i thought wrong..." kisame says, mocking his opponent. "You're reckless and arrogant. Unlike your big brother,who was humble and level headed."
"Yeah right. Everyone knows nii-san was already the greatest swordsman in history of shinobi world by the age of twelve." Suigetsu says,each words screaming the unspeakable respect that he has for his deceased brother.
"Such a shame he died so soon. It was six years ago. I wonder if he could've actually surpassed the legendary kenshin mikami..." Kisame says in a way that confuses suigetsu a little bit.
No one did hate or even dislike mangetsu. All bowed before his unparalled talent.
'It seems sasuke is gonna kill itachi at last...' Karin thinks,when she senses the chakra output of sasuke,who has activates his curse mark. "With that much power-" Karin is cut by jugo's words.
"Even when blind and being hit by sasuke's strongest jutsu,how is itachi able to summon that...chakra avatar?" Jugo says,visibly worried about sasuke. Jugo uses the birds as summoning animals and extract information from them through telepathy.
"Wait...does it mean he has summoned susano'o?!?" Karin says,shocked to learn that itachi achieved such power.
"Susano'o?" Kisame says,wondering if itachi has hidden his true powers. "I truly am convinced that even if you were at his side now,you would be killed in mere seconds.Even i have no chance if i decide to hunt him down considering that he has susano'o right now..."
"The hell is that susano'o thing?" Suigetsu asks,angirly.
"a living avatar made of chakra summoned by the users of mangekyou sharingan.i have heard of my mom that the susano'o at their last stage are larger than mountains,and give uchihas the potential to destroy countries singlehandedly in a few hits." Karin says,sweating. "We gotta go an-" karin suddenly loses balance,and starts to fall.
Suigetsu leaves the fight and catches karin.
"Is she-" Suigetsu cuts jugo.
"She lost conciousness." Suigetsu puts his hand on karin's chest. "Her heart is stopped." Jugo jumps from his place to check on karin.
Suigetsu puts his mouth on karin's to give her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Sending a little water into her body to make her heart pump again,karin is revived.
Karin can breath hardly,and coughs a little bit. Suigetsu has his hand on karin's back. Jugo puts his hand on karin's shoulder.
"What happened?" Jugo asks karin. "Are you okay?"
Karin looks pale,has slow heartbeats,and is shaking,rubbing his arms with his hands,hugging herself.
Suigetsu lifts karin gently. "Jugo,let's go somewhere so she can rest." Suigetsu says.
-
Suigetsu puts his hand on karin's forehead,checking if she has fever.
"Seems you're so much better than before." Suigetsu says, keeping his calm.
"Thank goodness." Jugo says,finds relief in suigetsu's words.
Suigetsu gives a bottle of water to karin,not certainly his own bottle.karin takes it and drinks from it,staring at the wall,with a sad look.
"Suigetsu..." Karin whispers,which suigetsu heard and puts his hand on his arm.
"It's better for you to not think about anything right now.but it's you whose standing infront of my face.say it." Suigetsu says.
"How is this even possible?" Karin asks suigetsu, grabbing suigetsu's forearm.
"What do you mean?" Suigetsu asks.
"If itachi is the same twisted,cold blooded,evil bastard that sasuke has always despised and hated for years..." Karin hesitates for a few moments,and then looks directly into suigetsu's eyes. "Why did his chakra felt so sad...like he is lamenting..." Tears falling from karin's eyes.
"Itachi...i remember my nii-san who always spoke highly of him. He said that itachi was the closet thing to perfection. He said that not because itachi was his best friend,but that itachi was also selfless and caring.for years,i was always jealous of itachi,who loved mangetsu more than i ever could. and i was mad at mangetsu for loving itachi much more than he ever loved me." Suigetsu takes karin's hands,caressing them. "After i heard about uchiha's downfall,i was shocked. Then,my brother fled from the village and joined the same akatsuki that had itachi uchiha,and i was told by orochimaru that he and mangetsu were teamed up. I couldn't see the meaning behind what my brother did.but now,after hearing you,at last i am able to understand..." suigetsu hesitates for a few seconds,and then he starts to shake. "That itachi and mangetsu weren't what everyone thought they're." Suigetsu bursts into tears,crying silently.
"Sasuke has killed itachi...That guy told me sasuke is somewhere safe." Jugo says,looking away.
Karin,who also never had expected she could see suigetsu like this infront of her,can't say anything at all.
"Nii-san...how could you..." Karin pulls suigetsu gently into a warm hug,letting suigetsu's head rest on her shoulder. Suigetsu grabs onto karin's cloth,wetting her bare neck with his tears. Karin rubs her fingers through suigetsu's light blue hair,comforts him.
"You and I understand each other too well,suigetsu." Karin says,tightening the hug.
"I hope this is the last time we see each other this pathetic." Suigetsu says,in a forcefully saracastic tune.
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🥰 for the Witcher of course
A/N: Milos was created I believe by Fayet on AO3 who writes Hibernating With Ghosts which you should all read.
[surrounded by love]
Vesemir was the first person to love Geralt, he thinks. He doesn’t remember if his mother loved him, and he has significant doubts about whether she did or not, since she left him to be raised as a witcher.
But Vesemir was gentle with him, gave him a name of his own, took him back to Kaer Morhen with admonitions that it would be a hard life but that his brothers would always look after him.  He didn’t understand the “if he survived” part until later, when he was a bit older, but it was true nonetheless. There was a fair amount of bickering and bullying among the younger boys who hadn’t gone through the trials yet, but if it came down to it they always had each other’s backs, just sometimes they weren’t nice about it.
Vesemir taught him to hold a sword, to fight with a sword, to keep moving even when he wanted to fall over. Vesemir, he learned years after the fact, had pushed back against the choice to put Geralt through a second round of the Trial of the Grasses, said that they needed a witcher who came through the first round in such (relatively) good shape. And it was Vesemir who was the kindest to him and the most protective of him, in his own rough and hard way, after he emerged from the second round different and strange and uncertain. And he’s never stopped.
Eskel loved Geralt immediately.  They were of an age, though Geralt had been in Kaer Morhen longer when Vesemir brought Eskel to the youngest boys’ dormitories, but Eskel had been bigger. Just a little taller, just a little stronger. 
“I’ll protect you,” the boy declared with complete childlike confidence, taking Geralt’s hand and jutting his chin out as if daring anyone to argue, and Geralt said, “Ok,” and let it happen.
When there were bullies or injuries or sickness, Eskel was always right there. When they came through the Trial of the Grasses (the first time, for Geralt), Eskel was worse off but still managed to crawl his way to Geralt’s cot and squeeze onto the tiny thing with him, holding him even as he trembled nearly out of his skin from the pain and the fear. 
(Geral never tells Eskel how much that moment meant to him, even if he wasn’t so badly off. He never tells Eskel how much any of the things he’s done over the years mean to him. Eskel doesn’t need him to.)
And after the siege that destroyed their brothers and their home, Geralt came back to find Eskel had arrived much quicker than he had, that he and Vesemir had already dealt with the bodies and the worst of the bloodstains. And even hollow-eyed and grieving, the first thing Eskel does is walk to Geralt, pull him into the tightest hug of their lives, and ask if Geralt is okay.  If that’s not love, Geralt has never experienced it, but he’s pretty sure it is.
Lambert loves Geralt in the same way he hates Geralt: loudly, intensely, and jealously. Their relationship is fraught, always. When Lambert is twelve, he begs Geralt to take him away onto the Path, promises he’ll earn his keep, and in the first big city he can go his own way.  Geralt declines, and Lambert’s hatred crystalizes in that moment, from idolization to jealousy.
But other times, as he gets older, especially after the siege, Lambert also provides comfort. He’ll needle Geralt to the point of lashing out, and at Vesemir’s command to “take it outside!” they’ll get their swords and spar for an hour, sometimes more, and when the fight eventually ends, even though it almost always ends with Geralt’s sword at Lambert’s throat, Geralt feels better and Lambert looks satisfied and relieved.
It’s almost as if Lambert doesn’t know how to care for someone without hating them a bit too. Geralt tries not to think about it, because Lambert deserves to be able to pour out that love he carries inside himself without having to lace it with hatred and violence.
Coën  loves Geralt, in the way you love a cousin you were never close to. The Gryphon isn’t a regular winter resident in Kaer Morhen, exactly, but then neither is Geralt. 
Coën  teaches him moves that his school perfected, that don’t naturally mesh with the way the wolves were trained to fight, and talks at length about Milos and how he learned it. 
Milos was a smallish, blond-curled Wolf who was killed in the siege. By all accounts, from Vesemir and Eskel, it looked as though he’d died doing his best to protect the littlest of children. He’d travelled with Coën (inasmuch as witchers travelled with each other, which was to say mostly meeting up every few weeks in a previously determined location) for over a decade.  They would never let Coën go with that sort of connection.  They knew it was there.
And Coën is always a little worried about them all. He may not love them the way he loved Milos, but he doesn’t want what happened to Milos to happen to them.  
Jaskier loves Geralt.
Sometimes facts are just facts, and a best friend will always love you.
Jaskier loves Geralt steady and true until Geralt can’t stand it anymore and breaks his heart and pushes him away.
(And even still, that broken shattered heart keeps loving him, even when he doesn’t remotely deserve it.)
Yennefer loves Geralt, though not always the way either of them want her to. The draw is the djinn, they realize eventually, but the feelings are her own. It’s complicated in the end - she doesn’t want to be kept or bound, and he doesn’t want to be left behind, and yet somehow both of them have managed to entangle the other in the things they want least.
“We could’ve been a great love story,” she says one evening, years down the line, sitting at the fireplace in Kaer Morhen’s library after dinner. “Something your bard would’ve been fit to burst about writing.”
“Hmm,” Geralt says, and falls silent. It’s a long time before he says, “I don’t think that was what we’re meant for,” just before Eskel and Jaskier come in bearing alcohol and glasses, Lambert carrying a tray of bread and cheese.  It doesn’t leave Yen any space to argue, or agree, or say anything. 
Geralt’s not sure he can handle hearing too much about exactly what kind of love she feels for him. Not just yet. He can’t quite handle the thought of Jaskier writing a song - well, another song - about them, especially after the heartbroken bitterness of the others.
Ciri loves Geralt with all the joy and power and carelessness a traumatized child could hope to love.
She is fire and passion and anger and bitterness and kindness, and it’s all Geralt can do to open himself to accepting all her emotions and trying his best to give back even half as good as he gets.
He doesn’t.  But he tries. He’s her father, and he will always try.
Jaskier loves everyone. It’s not clear at first, how much he loves. Geralt sees him with Ciri, combing her hair and holding her after nightmares and singing silly songs and pretty songs and songs that he clearly wrote about Geralt but with more subtle imagery than Geralt’s used to from him. He’s always known Jaskier was talented, even if he didn’t enjoy the fruits of his labor, but this is something else entirely, a story that is clearly about Geralt, the most honest songs he’s heard about himself from the bard’s lips, but without ever once mentioning wolves or witchers. He doesn’t know why he hasn’t heard these songs, or why they exist. He’s afraid to ask. Ciri seems to already know them well.
Geralt sees Jaskier with his brothers, even with Coën, and feels like he might burn from the warmth in his chest. The lazy ease with which Jaskier interacts with them. It’s not that he’s not nervous, he clearly wants to make a good impression, but Jaskier is warm and open and most importantly not afraid of any of them.
He is never afraid, and it terrifies Geralt more than anything he can think of, and makes him improbably proud to have been the bard’s first witcher.  His brothers love Jaskier right back, in their ways, Eskel with cheerful-yet-terrifying facts about monsters and witchers and the dark places of the world, Lambert with insults and very restrained physical harassment, Coën with solemn offers of helping him train to be a better swordsman than he is, so he can protect himself out in the world.
He sees Jaskier with Yennefer, their previous animosity softened somewhat. They still snipe at each other, pulling at the threads of each others’ insecurities and fears, but if they go too far, they back off, which they never did the first times they met. Geralt sees Jaskier say something saucy (judging by his expression) to Yen one day, and expects Yen to retaliate or slap him, but instead Yen laughs - bright and loud enough that even as far away as he is, Geralt can hear her - and kisses Jaskier’s cheek. He doesn’t know what they’ve built, but he’s glad it’s there, holding them up if he can’t be there.
Vesemir is an enigma in some ways, but Jaskier manages at least to get into his affections, judging by the strict tone he takes with Jaskier while he watches him train with Eskel or Coën, or the firm way he steers the exhausted bard to the dinner table, or the baths, or his own room. It makes Ciri laugh, and Jaskier always sighs when this happens, just following along with a teasing (but somehow also respectful), “Yes, Papa Vesemir.”
And then...
And then.
Jaskier loves Geralt. 
It doesn’t make sense. And after some time away, Geralt can process and internalize that it was never meant to be solely platonic. That Jaskier was willing to take whatever love he could get, but that the love he gave was more than that. It overflowed to everyone in Geralt’s life, spilling over and over and over, doing its best to fill everyone up, and somehow Jaskier manages to do this without coming out of it drained and exhausted and unable to love.
He kisses Geralt one day, after singing Ciri to sleep.
“I can’t handle this anymore,” he admits, and Geralt doesn’t know what he means. He tries to say it, pained and uncertain and terrified that Jaskier’s leaving, but Jaskier watches his face and the strange openness of his expressions, and he smiles.
“You can’t either, can you?” he asks softly, and Geralt lets himself whimper, just a tiny bit. “Well,” Jaskier says, a spark of heat and delight in his voice as he presses against Geralt’s body. “We’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?”
Every important person in Geralt’s life loves him, and when it matters they all love each other as well. And while he doesn’t know how to process or handle this fact, he knows that he never in a million years would give it up for anything short of saving their lives.
And all the people around him continue to love him.
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koala-otter · 4 years
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Hi hun!! I have a prompt!! So, Zuko was born into an obviously conservative family and with all that royal training and everything, he usually speaks with proper grammar and etiquette. Enter: Sokka. Sokka has the most filthy mouth in terms of speaking and anything in general. He can turn a simple conversation about dinner into something that makes Zuko blush unintentionally. I just want to see more flustered!Zuko out here!! Ty!!
hello love! it’s probably not what you expected, it’s definitely not what I expected, but there’s a lot of flustered!Zuko, so here we are
I don’t think it’s nsfw? but it’s also not entirely sfw??
ok here’s Sokka’s got a filthy mouth and a filthy mind and now Zuko does, too almost 2k words
Zuko spent three years of his life traveling the high seas, so he spent a fair amount of time around sailors. As a banished prince, he didn’t necessarily have his pick of the lot when it came to choosing his crew, and very few men on his ship ended up being the upstanding sort typical of the Fire Navy. Instead, the men Zuko lived with during his early teen years were often slippery, prone to debauchery, and crude. They swore frequently, mercilessly, and thoroughly, and after a couple of bottles of soju, could not have been stopped by the sea itself from telling detailed stories of their sexual conquests, the deck of the ship rollicking with tall tales of quivering thighs and heaving breasts left behind at the last port. For a long time Zuko couldn’t understand why he didn’t enjoy these stories, or why all the other men did. Still, despite his uncle’s careful influence, Zuko experienced his fair share of vulgarity on his travels, and largely as a result of the seafaring men surrounding him. 
Yet he finds, time and again, that he has never met anyone whose mind or mouth matched Sokka’s.
They are all sitting around the courtyard of the Fire Lord’s house on Ember Island, idly waiting for dinner to finish cooking, when Zuko hears a gasp. He looks up from sharpening his swords in time to find Sokka standing next to Katara at the pot full of their food. 
“What the hell are those?” Sokka demands. 
“Sea aubergines,” Katara says matter-of-factly, though Zuko hears the annoyed undercurrent of her tone.
Sokka lets out a peal of laughter. “Katara, they look like dicks!”
A governess once struck Zuko for using such a word, and he feels the sting again as he gapes at Sokka’s relaxed form. He almost expects Katara to lash out or yell at her brother, but instead she barely rolls her eyes. 
“It was all they had at the market,” she says. 
“Aang!” Sokka calls, cupping his mouth with his hands. He waves the airbender over. “You need to see the size of these.”
Aang skips over easily and leans over to look into the pot. 
“Don’t they look like a bunch of dicks?” Sokka says, nudging him with his elbow. 
Aang immediately bursts into laughter, his hands coming to rest on his stomach. Zuko can only gawk at them and the casual way they react to such language.
“Where’d Toph go?” Sokka asks. “She’d get a kick out of the dicks.”
“You idiot, I’m blind,” Toph says from her position lying on the stairs.
“You can still—” Sokka notes Katara’s glare and the fact that Toph is still a twelve-year-old girl and immediately retreats. “Right, then,” he says, taking the ladle from Katara and scooping up one of the phallic vegetables, “Zuko!”
Zuko lifts his head, the dismay clear on his face. 
Sokka waves the sea aubergine in the air maniacally. “Don’t you think it looks like a dick?” he almost shrieks.
Zuko tries not to wince at the word, and instead lies, “I don’t see it.”
“What?” Sokka looks between the vegetable and the stony look on Zuko’s face. “Are you serious? It’s even oozing—”
“Enough,” Zuko says. The island heat seems to have suddenly gathered entirely around his face. “Don’t be disgusting.”
Sokka’s face breaks into a boyish grin. “So, you do see it.” He waves the ladle in the air, the sea aubergine clinging by its tip to the bowl of the spoon.
“No,” Zuko continues denying.
Katara puts her hands on her hips and finally addresses her brother. “Sokka, would you cut it out? We’re going to eat that.”
Sokka ignores her. 
“Here, Zuko,” he says casually, holding the ladle handle with both hands for some reason, “maybe you just need a closer look!”
And all of a sudden, a slimy, tan-and-purple, mottled, tubular vegetable is hurtling across the courtyard straight at Zuko. Before he can even think about it, he closes his eyes and catches it right in his hands. Then comes the heat, so high and concentrated from the cooking pot, that his hands immediately pull apart, and the aubergine flops, useless, on the courtyard ground.
Zuko looks up and glares, and for the first time since going back to the Fire Nation, he swears.
“Damn it, Sokka, that’s hot!”
Sokka stops laughing abruptly, and his expression turns mischievous. “I didn’t know you swung that way, Zuko.” A blush erupts across Zuko’s face as he suddenly hears his own poor phrasing. Sokka smirks. “Good to know.” 
The blush is still on Zuko’s face when they finally sit down to dinner, and it’s all he can do not to choke at the sight of Sokka’s ruthless grin each time he takes another bite of slimy, limp sea aubergine.
A couple of years after the war ends, Zuko finally lets Sokka drag him on a trip to see Master Piandao. Sokka’s already gone back a couple of times to forge a new sword and for training, but Piandao hasn’t seen Zuko since before his banishment. He politely does not react to Zuko’s scar, and instead scrutinizes the close relationship between the two young men. 
“Knowing you when you were younger,” he says in his measured tone to Zuko, “and knowing Sokka,” he continues, turning to look at the younger swordsman, “I wouldn’t have imagined you two being quite so drawn to each other.”
“What do you mean?” Sokka looks up from where he’s flicking Zuko’s arm. He throws his own arm around Zuko’s shoulders and pulls him in close, beaming. “We’re best fucking friends!”
Zuko looks horrified at the blatant lack of refinement in Sokka’s language, and in front of their swordmaster no less, but Piandao remains unperturbed. In fact, if Zuko squints hard enough, it might even look like he’s smiling. 
“Well,” Piandao says, picking up his own sword, “let’s get started.”
Their training session does not last long.
The two young men are caught in almost a death grip, their swords biting into each other, and their bodies so close they are practically panting in each other’s faces. Sokka’s managed to disarm Zuko of one of his swords, cast aside on the patio of Piandao’s house, and looks smug even as Zuko pushes against him. Hard. 
Zuko, on the other hand, looks enraged. His leg is smarting where Sokka smacked him with the flat edge of his sword, and he has suddenly been made frighteningly aware of the fact that Sokka is now taller than him. He glowers up at Sokka, pressing back against Sokka’s sword with all of his strength, which he worries will not last as long he needs it to because since he last checked, Sokka has gotten broad, and Sokka has gotten strong. 
Zuko feels a growing desire to ram his sword through Sokka, and his glower turns to a grin as he considers it. The ramming. And then a thought fills his head of how Sokka would interpret that word, and he’s shocked when he doesn’t hate it, and it makes him even angrier. Sokka’s definitely rubbing off on him. And there he goes again.
“All right, it’s a draw,” Piandao says from his safe distance away. 
When neither boy pulls back, he calmly walks over and pulls them apart. They both slump onto the ground, panting like polardogs in heat. 
“You’re clearly very well matched,” Piandao says thoughtfully. He waits until both boys have cooled off before he continues speaking. They sit in front of him, waiting for instructions. He nods and gestures for Fat, the butler, to join them. “There’s an orchard on the way to the village full of plum trees.”
Fat hands Zuko and Sokka each a towel.
“Best plums I’ve ever had,” Piandao continues. “Sweet and juicy, and a little sour, too.” He takes the beverage Fat hands him. “And this time of year, the trees are full of them.”
Sokka and Zuko wait as Piandao sips his drink. He hands it back to Fat.
“Go home. And walk through the orchard on your back,” Piandao says, pointing in the general direction. He bows his head slightly at the two swordsmen in front of him. “Training is done for the day. I’ll see you early tomorrow morning.”
Zuko and Sokka look at each other questioningly but scramble to do as they’re told. 
Fat stands behind Piandao as they watch the two run off toward the orchard. “Those two,” he says with a shake of his head. 
Piandao glances behind himself and then forward at the boys again. A thin smile graces his mouth. “They’ll figure it out,” he says warmly.
In the orchard, Zuko walks resolutely back towards the house they’re staying in, while Sokka takes his time to languorously pick individual plums from the passing trees, biting into each of them with gusto. Juice drips down his lips and chin, even down his neck, and falls from individual fruits down his wrists and muscled forearms. His appetite’s only grown as he’s gotten bigger, and so has his enthusiasm for eating. He makes loud slurping sounds to prove it.
“Stop that, would you? It sounds awful,” Zuko says. 
“I can’t help it, they’re so juicy,” Sokka replies, waggling his eyebrows at Zuko. He holds one of his plums out. “Are you sure you don’t want one?”
“I’m sure,” Zuko practically barks.
Sokka shakes his head. “You’re just mad because I tricked you,” he says, referring to the three times he’s managed to pull Zuko in with the promise of a bite of plum, only to rip the fruit away at the last minute. 
“I’m not mad about that,” Zuko says angrily.
Sokka raises his eyebrows. “Then what are you mad about?”
Zuko gestures back toward Piandao’s house. “We must have done something wrong if we got kicked out,” he says glumly.
Sokka stares at him. “What? We almost killed each other. In a swordfight, I’d say that was doing it right.” He pulls out one of his plums. “Besides, you heard Master Piandao. We’re well matched.”
Zuko sighs. 
Sokka bites into the plum, and his eyes go wide. He holds the fruit out to Zuko. 
“Zuko,” he says seriously, “try this one. It’s the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“I don’t know if I trust the guy who goes around eating random plants all the time.”
“Come on,” Sokka almost whines. He shakes the plum a bit in Zuko’s face. “It’ll make you feel better.”
Zuko gives him a hard look. “You’re not going to take it away again?”
“I’m not going to do it again,” Sokka promises, his face genuine. He almost looks caring. 
Zuko eyes him suspiciously, but leans toward the plum. The skin is shiny and dark purple, the color of an eggplant, but the flesh inside is a bright and brilliant pink, exposed by the bite from Sokka’s mouth. Juice trickles down the edges of the bite into Sokka’s outstretched hand, and Zuko briefly wonders what it would be like to skip the plum altogether and take Sokka’s fingers into his mouth, to lick the juice off of them. 
Zuko swallows and tries to toss the image out of his head, finally leaning toward the fruit. Just as his lips make contact with the plum’s skin, a high-pitched moan erupts from Sokka’s mouth. Zuko pulls his head back immediately to find Sokka grinning widely, and he fixes Sokka with a hot glare. 
“You’re disgusting,” Zuko snaps.
Sokka smirks and takes another bite of the plum. “Ah, you love it,” he says, and he continues making those awful slurping sounds all the way back to town.
sorry
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phoenixaura81 · 3 years
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My oldest and shittiest art (that I have pictures of)! How’s that for a first post?
The first one is my main Sonic OC Aura the Wolf. She was the former princess of a kingdom called Enamatonia until is got destroyed by an unknown force when she was eight. For the next seven years, she lived in the jungle kind of like a wild animal. She fell critically ill at the end of this period, but was luckily found by two friends/teammates who rehabilitated her in the headquarters of the agency they founded, the Sabix Intelligence and Protection Agency, or the SIPA for short. She is now a valuable member of the SIPA. She is very intelligent, honest, sensible, resourceful, and helpful, but cold-hearted, stubborn, and short-tempered. She has incredibly versatile aura powers (such as aural telekinesis) that she uses both in combat and in everyday situations. She can also keep up with (but not surpass) Sonic and Shadow in terms of speed. She is also very agile and acrobatic.
The second one is Aura and another Sonic OC of mine, Saber the Eagle. They're best friends, but Saber has a huge crush on Aura.
The third one is Saber riding his Extreme Gear. He used to be a professional racer (he retired when Sonic and his friends first started competing because he knew he can never win against the likes of the Babylon Rogues, especially his enemy Jet the Hawk). He still rides all the time, but he doesn't race with his gear. Since he put racing behind him, he spent most of his time people-watching and VR gaming, where he met his soon-to-be best friend/teammate. They are the founders of the SIPA (what each letter stands for is in Aura’s description; I don't feel like repeating it here).
The fourth one is Aura running across a synthwave-style background. She loves synthwave (both the music and the aesthetic/art style, as do I; many of her traits are a reflection of mine).
The fifth one is two of my OC’s: Arronis the Wolf and Nautico the Andalusian Horse. They're absolute BFF’s (many think of them as lovers, and they don't mind at all). Arronis is from Enamatonia. He was born in a noble family. He hated noble life, and he developed a love for building things at a young age. He built a propane lab/bar (yes, propane is a delicacy in Enamatonia; remember the chemical thing) in his family's basement. Many of his friends came to it, including one Aura the Wolf (they're very good friends now). The unknown force which destroyed Enamatonia happened when he was twelve. He wasn't fazed at all, and he moved his lab somewhere else, where it expanded into his new home underground. He met Nautico when getting more resources for his shelter. He is very forceful, intense, energetic, and always takes things seriously (he knows when to have fun though, especially with his friends and hobbies), but he’s foul-mouthed, stubborn, and short-tempered. He doesn't look it, but he's very intelligent and always has a plan for everything. He has aura powers just like every other Enamatonian, but he's absolutely terrible at controlling them. He prefers not to use them. He is instead a fantastic builder and and engineer. He's also very physically strong. Nautico was very timid when he was young despite being raised by loving parents. He has always loved adventure, and he lets that love out by sailing. Now, he's extremely adventurous, confident, and proud, but a perfectionist who despises weakness. He isn't much of a planner and prefers to live in the moment. He doesn't have any powers, but he has many talents. He's a fantastic sailor and navigator (people sometimes call him a walking-talking map), but he's also a great swimmer, dancer (he even teaches Arronis and Aura), and swordsman. He's also very graceful, agile, and acrobatic.
The sixth one is Wave, Aura, Saber, and Asterix (in his casual outfit; I’ll give his description in the next drawing he's in) going out to dinner. I’ll give you three guesses as to why Wave and Asterix are giving sly looks at Saber and Aura (and why Blaze is anxious as hell).
The seventh one is a picture of Aura I like.
The eighth and last one is my OC Asterix the Hare with Wave the Swallow (one of my OC x Canon ships). I’ll describe Asterix now. In his youth, he was incred precocious and was basically a child prodigy. He learned to read, write, walk, and talk at a year old, he was able to solve complex equations by the age of five, and by age seven, he was in a testing facility for gifted children. He didn't like that place very much. By the age of fifteen, he founded a successful tech company called Asterix Tech. Three years later, he met his soon-to-be best friend Saber in a VR game (he also had a bit of a VR addiction at the time, but he got over it). They met in person a little while later and founded the SIPA. He is the tech master, main scientist/engineer, and even doctor. He studied all of those fields and more throughout his life. He's obviously extremely intelligent and cunning, sometimes to the point of arrogance. However, he's easily the most mature member of the SIPA and is very helpful. He is serious to a fault, but knows when to have fun depending on the situation (his time-management skills are fantastic). He doesn't have powers, but he's an expert at tons of STEM-related fields. Saber is still his best friend, but he got pretty jealous when Aura started to get close to Saber. He got over that and he and Aura are quite close. He and Wave are intellectual rivals... and they sort of like each other...
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arrow-guy · 4 years
Text
Broken Flock (7/??)
Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?
A/N: Again, this chapter is dealing with really heavy themes that could potentially trigger some readers. Please read at your own discretion.
Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong​
Word Count: 2.8k
Pairing: WinterhawkxReader
Warnings: Kidnapping, panic attack, mentions of sedation, needles
Part 6
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Clint and Bucky don’t get home till nearly four in the morning. They stumble up the stairs, exhausted and on the verge of collapsing. They’re determined to make it up to (Y/N)’s apartment before they fall asleep.
They bundle into the apartment and are surprised to find only the stove light on. (Y/N) usually leaves, at least, a couple of lamps left on in the living room and a lamp on in the bedroom. Bucky looks up at Clint, concern evident on his face and Clint squeezes his arm in an attempt to reassure him. Clint moves further into the apartment to check the bedroom, while Bucky investigates the kitchen.
It only takes Clint a moment to flick on the bedroom light before he calls out to Bucky and joins him in the kitchen. He stops short when he sees Bucky hunch in on himself and cover his mouth with his hand.
"What is it?" Clint asks.
Bucky holds up a slip of paper. "Something's wrong."
"What?" Clint turns on the rest of the kitchen lights and takes the paper from him. "She left a note?"
Bucky nods silently and Clint gently pulls him to his chest with one arm. He runs his hand up and down Bucky's back, hoping to keep him calm, while he reads the note.
Hey guys!
I don't know if you'll be back before me, but in case you are, I'm heading out to stretch my wings. After last week I think I need a little break, haha. It's 8:45 right now, but I'll stop by Clint's place to feed Lucky before I head out for the day. I'll have my phone with me if you need to get in contact.
See you when you get home!
(Y/N)
P.S.: I'm not running away again. I promise.
The note falls from Clint's hand and he wraps his arms fully around Bucky. It slowly sinks in that (Y/N)'s been gone for well over twelve hours and Clint begins to panic.
"Maybe she decided to camp out for the night," Clint offers. "She hates being cooped up for too long."
"No, she would've texted or called or something." Bucky takes a deep, shaking breath. "Something's wrong, and you don’t want to admit it."
“Of course I don’t wanna admit it, Buck. She’s-” Tears form in his eyes and he wraps Bucky tighter in his arms. “She’s our girl.”
“We gotta get her back.”
“We will.”
Bucky shakes his head and pulls away. “I can’t do this again. I can’t lose her.”
Clint wipes away Bucky’s tears and then his own. “I know. And we’ll find her. I’m gonna call Steve and Nat and Sam. We’re gonna get every single pair of eyes we can on this.”
Bucky covers his face with his hands and Clint tucks him under his chin. They stand silently in the kitchen until they’re able to speak again. Bucky takes a seat on the couch and texts Steve while Clint immediately calls Natasha. He can hear Bucky sniffle and has to force himself to stay where he is.
Natasha is not in a good mood when she picks up.
“It’s four in the morning.”
“I don’t give a shit, (Y/N)’s gone.”
“What do you mean she’s ‘gone’?”
“Bucky ‘n I just got home and she wasn’t here.”
“She probably ran off again. I know you don’t want to hear this, but she’s done it once, she’d probably do it again.”
“The fuck she would, she’s settled here, Nat. She wouldn’t just leave without telling us.”
“You don’t know that.”
Clint’s tempted to break something. “Nat, I’m telling you, she wouldn’t fucking do that. She wouldn’t do that to us. Not again.” His breath catches in his throat and he does his best to hold back his tears. “Please, Nat. We need your help.”
Natasha sighs. “Fine, I’ll be there in a bit.”
Clint sighs, relieved. “Thank you. Would you bring Steve with you? Buck’s getting in contact with him, but we need his help on this.”
“I’ll let him know.” She pauses. “Anyone else you want on this?”
“Sam,” Clint says. “He’s good at this kind of stuff. And I’m gonna call Tony and see if he can help at all. I don’t want him physically looking for her though. We’re already impatient enough as is without adding his stress to the mix.”
“Okay. See you soon.” She hangs up before Clint can say goodbye.
Clint sits on the coffee table in front of Bucky and takes hold of his shaking hands. “Nat’s on her way over with Steve and Sam.”
Bucky nods, but it’s clear that he’s still trying to process what’s happening. “Okay.”
“I’m gonna see if I can get Tony to help us track her phone.”
“Okay.”
“We’re gonna find her, Buck,” Clint murmurs. He kisses Bucky’s knuckles. “I promise.”
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“You’re sure she didn’t just leave again?” Natasha asks.
“I’ve already fuckin’ told you, she didn’t just leave,” Clint growls.
“She left a note,” Bucky says. His voice is rough and makes Natasha do a double-take. When she sees his red-rimmed eyes, she realizes how serious this is.
“Can I read it?”
Bucky nods and points to the kitchen counter. Steve picks up the slip of paper and scans over it before handing it to Natasha. Her frown grows deeper the further she reads into the note. She opens her mouth to speak and Clint holds up one hand to stop her.
“We know she’s missing. Her laptop is still here and so is the rest of her stuff.” He wraps his arm around Bucky’s shoulders and sighs. “Like I said. She wouldn’t do this to us.”
“No, Clint I get that. Do you know where she would’ve gone?”
“North,” Bucky croaks out. “We were up there a couple weeks ago. She likes flying up there.”
“Did Stark manage to find her phone?” Steve asks.
Clint shrugs and checks his phone. “I think he’s still working on it. I’ll call him again-”
“No,” Steve says. “It’s alright, I’ll do it.”
Clint absentmindedly rubs circles against Bucky’s shoulder, trying to calm himself more than Bucky at this point. For all of his optimism, Clint knows how much he’s lost throughout his life. He’s lost his brother to the Swordsman, his childhood to abuse and the circus, his mother to his father… Hell, even his shitbrick of a father dying was a loss. But losing (Y/N) a second time overshadows all of that. There’s no time to mourn or process, just an overwhelming need to go, find, rescue. The urge to protect Bucky is there, too, but he knows that Bucky would never fall into his arms like a damsel in distress, even if there’s a tiny part of him that wishes he would. Wishes Bucky would let him take care of him. But he knows that taking care of Bucky means finding (Y/N) first.
Steve interrupts his thoughts, letting them know that Stark’s found the location, and Clint coaxes Bucky to his feet. He grabs his spare bow and quiver from his apartment before they leave the building.
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Dawn breaks and brings even more anxiety with it.
They find her phone in the middle of the field Bucky had taken her to not even a month ago. Bucky's heart drops to his feet and he would walk away from all of this if it weren't for Clint's hand on his shoulder.
Bucky crouches down and picks up the phone. The screen is freshly cracked and the battery is nearly dead. He pockets the device and scans the surrounding area for any other sign of human life. He's about to say something when he notices that the top of a nearby tree has been snapped off. He reaches out to Clint and takes off as soon as he's got a hold of his hand.
"What is it?" Clint asks breathlessly.
"Something."
Clint knows better than to try and get anything more out of him when he's like this.
Bucky drags Clint to a clearing littered with crushed leaves, broken branches, and feathers that are too big to have come from any kind of bird. Both men freeze at the sight in front of them and Clint feels nauseous when he notices the dark, tar-like substance stuck to the majority of the feathers.
"I-I saw the broken off trees and I…" Bucky trails off and drops to his knees. "Oh, God."
Clint glances up from the carnage to see Sam hovering in front of a particular tree. He grabs something before he drops to the grass and walks over to Steve. Clint sees him say something about a bag and "Caught on a branch." His stomach clenches and he manages to force himself to walk over and investigate.
Sam turns as Clint approaches and holds out a tattered pack.
“I’m sorry, man,” he says. “This is all I could find.”
Clint reaches out with shaking hands and takes the bag. His breathing stutters. “Shit.”
“Is it hers?”
Clint nods. “Yeah. It’s hers.” He looks around the clearing. “The feathers are hers too, and they’re every-fucking-where.”
Clint watches Natasha prod at a clump of feathers. She frowns when she touches the tar-like goop and a string of it pulls away with her fingers. She scowls and walks away, making a note on her phone. Bucky’s wandered over to the one clear space in the middle of the grass and Clint joins him. He takes Bucky’s hand in his and hopes it’s at least a little comforting.
“She fell here,” Bucky murmurs, tracing a vague indentation in the grass. “And then it's like she just disappeared.”
Clint shakes his head. “She didn’t disappear, Buck. She was here. We’ll find her.”
He kisses the side of Bucky’s head and wraps him in a tight hug. Bucky hesitates, but slowly wraps his arms around Clint’s middle and presses his nose to his chest. Clint notices Natasha speaking with Steve and his brows pull together when she glances back at him before talking to Steve again. He sees her say “shot down” and “kidnapped” and the hopelessness starts to settle in again.
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There’s something wrong with my left wrist. Probably a sprain. Both of my wings are sore from tip to shoulder, but I think I twisted my right wing on the way down to the ground. My ribs are probably fractured after snapping so many branches, and it’s hard to breathe. Secondary to all of that, every inch of exposed skin stings with little tiny scrapes and cuts.
I have to take my time in sitting up and wince when my wings stretch a little too far. There’s something that’s stopping my feathers from fanning out to the point that any kind of movement slowly becomes painful. I slowly extend my left wing, hoping to investigate whatever's stuck to my feathers and stare in confusion at the mess of black goo covering the majority of my secondaries. Cautiously, I reach out and try to remove some of it, and I only succeed in pulling a feather loose. I swear and flick the goo that came away on my fingers to the floor.
I sigh and try to fold my legs underneath myself, but my motions are inhibited by a pair of shackles around my ankles. A long length of chain tethers the shackles to the floor. With that, in combination with the crippling soreness that's starting to settle deep into my bones, I realize that I'm not getting out of here any time soon. Wherever here is.
I shuffle back until my back hits the wall and my eyes slowly begin to adjust to the low light in the room. It looks like I’m being held in a small barn. Little slivers of light creep through cracks in the walls and fall across my hands, revealing every little cut and scrape. I sigh and angle myself so that I can reach the goop on my left wing. I lick the pads of my fingers and try to work some of the stuff from my feathers. It’s slow going, but I manage to avoid pulling out any more feathers.
Eventually, I can’t keep up with cleaning myself, and exhaustion settles in every inch of my body. I curl into myself and doze off.
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“An excellent specimen, Doctor.”
I don’t recognize this voice. The sounds of conversation slowly creep in at the edges of my consciousness. I keep my head down and just listen.
“As it should be, I made the serum!”
“When was she made?”
“I can’t be sure. It was not a procedure that I performed. I believe she was an accident.”
“Ah, well, you know what Bob Ross says.”
The second voice laughs. “I think you’re onto something, there, my friend.”
It takes a moment for it to register that these people are the reason I have my wings. And they’re just talking about me like I’m some kind of animal. An experiment.
One of them begins to pace in front of me. “It appears that she’s been sleeping for nearly twelve hours. Should we be concerned?”
“No, the serum imparts a sort of healing factor. The fastest way for her to heal is to sleep.” The shift and their shoes scrape along the concrete floor. “That being said, I don’t know the extend of her injuries. And her breathing has changed since we started speaking.”
The one pacing stops mid-stride. “She’s listening.”
“Precisely.”
Their footsteps approach and I panic. Fingers sink into my hair and wrench my hair back. I’m forced to look up at the woman who had previously been referred to as the Doctor. Out of the corner of my eye, I can just barely see the wiry young man that holds my head back.
“What should we do with her?” the young man asks. “Do you think she’s ready for tests.”
“Please,” my voice comes out scratchy. “Please, don’t.”
“I’m not sure,” the woman says. She begins to pace. “On the one hand, I’ve been waiting for weeks to capture her. Her strength and speed are unlike any of our previous subjects. I’m curious to see what makes her different from the others.”
“But?”
“But she’s been very clearly hurt.”
The man’s hold on my hair tightens and I whimper. He just tugs harder and I force my hands to stay where they are in my lap.
“We’ve been very careful in the past,” he says slowly. “We’ll sedate her. Keep her limbs still. She won’t feel a thing.”
“That is true…” I catch the wicked glint on her eyes and my stomach churns.
The young man laughs in my ear. “Excellent.”
“We’ll have to trim the tar from her feathers.” The doctor shakes her head. “Shame. They’re so beautiful.”
“Don’t touch my wings,” I plead. “Please.”
They just carry on as if I’ve said nothing. I watch the man grin, his eyes crazed. The doctor gestures towards the door and several large figures bundle into the barn. They all stalk over, arms outstretched and ready to grab me. I try to shrink away, but the man holding my head is stronger than he looks, and I can’t move an inch.
Hands latch onto my wrists, ankles, and wings, and I cry out in pain. I go limp in an attempt to make myself too heavy to carry, but they just twist my wings back to fold them. I bite down on my tongue to keep every whimper, groan, and sob from surfacing. My wrist and right wing scream out white-hot pain and, each time they jostle me around, a new jolt of pain lances through my body.
The three men dump me face down onto a metal table and roughly strap my arms and legs down. I beg them to leave me. To let me go. To just let me go. Nothing I say seems to reach their ears and tears streak down my cheeks by the time they wench my wings down to the table. Two large clamps descend from the ceiling and pin my wings to the table. I’m stuck and in pain.
The doctor appears at the edge of the room and she slowly approaches me. She seemed hesitant earlier. Maybe there’s some way I can reason with her?
“Please, don’t do this,” I plead. “You don’t have to do this. Please.”
She grabs my face and turns it from side to side. I whimper and pull against my restraints when she twists my head a little too sharply.
“You don’t understand,” she says. She presses my cheek to the table and my entire body seizes up as I feel someone slowly inserting a needle into my neck. “I want to.”
Her manic grin is the last thing I see as the world goes black. The hum of electricity fills my ears and my body goes completely limp.
-------
Part 8
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So that was a ROUGH chapter, but I promise that there will be a happy ending I just need you guys to trust me on this.
If you’d like to yell at me, absolutely comment, reblog, and/or shoot me an ask.
If you would like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!
Tag list:
@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace​, @sian22redux​, @skeletoresinthebasement​, @lady-thor-foster​, @jazzcutie​, @gaytonystark​, @geeksareunique​, @nyxveracity​, @breezy1415​, @feelmyroarrrr​, @darling-loki​, @lemonadeorange73​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​
This fic:
@avengerscompound​, @nerdy-bookworm-1998​, @shirukitsune​, @keenmarvellover​
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soldrawss · 5 years
Note
Ares kids giving percy shit and then they just see... luke... standing in the background... staring at them... and they suddenly decide to leave percy alone, because they 'just FEEL LIKE IT, oKAY???' jhgfgdhfdhggfjghg
Despite what everyone else thinks, Luke is always angry. He just also happens to be really good at hiding it. He probably had his dad to thank for that, being able to redirect and reassure others with a flash of a smile and a wave of his hand to disarm anyone who’d think otherwise. He hardly ever lets his temper get the best of him anymore. He’s too old for that. Too tired to let the little things get under his skin and leave bruises that the world could see. He can’t afford to wear his anger out like tattooed sleeves, the same way Silena Beauregard wore compassion on hers.
And it would be too easy. Too easy to just let his anger for the world and for the gods fuel and feed the hurt bleeding into his rationality and blaming all his problems on everything other than himself. It would be way too fucking easy to go about his days in a blinding rage that left nothing but empty holes in the places that should have held love and forgiveness and all the good he tries so desperately to instill in the younger campers. It wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t help the hurt and it wouldn’t end the suffering. Luke knew this. Luke knew the world didn’t need one more angry, unwanted kid adding that kind of gasoline into the fire. Kronos was wrong, even if his tempted whispers late at night tried so hard to convince him otherwise.
So he hides his anger. Buries it under daily counselor chores and making sure the Stoll brothers don’t get too rowdy during their free time and just keeps busy enough to ignore the pounding tremor in the back of his chest. It works for the most part. It’s easier to smile nowadays, he barely even has to force it anymore, and when he laughs along to campfire stories and songs, it’s something lighthearted and genuine.
But his anger is always right there, like it’s something second hand and lingering. There without him having to reach for it. 
And when he notices Percy get dragged behind the armory by the scruff of his neck by some older kids, he lets that all too familiar anger consume him in seconds. He pushes away from the handful of campers he was monitoring by the amphitheater, ‘Activity’s over. You have free break until lunch’, he calls over his shoulder, and doesn’t wait for a response as he marches his way in the direction of the armory with a speed Hermes would probably be proud of if he ever cared enough to check-in.
Luke doesn’t have special skills or powers like other Demigods. He can’t build things like Beckendorf and he can’t charm speak like Silena and he certainly can’t summon lightning from the heavens like Thalia could. But he was respected and feared in equal measure all the same, and no one could deny that he worked hard to earn the title of the best swordsman in camp. 
His was still a presence that demanded attention and authority. Even if he lets the seven-year-old from the Haphestus cabin ride on his shoulders after breakfast most mornings, or moves over on his already tiny bunk in the dead of night so that little unclaimed Lily Anderson can sleep with him after a bad nightmare.
He was a self-designated older brother to pretty much anyone who needed one, and Luke took a quiet sort of pride to that so many people liked and needed him.
But he was still a threat when he wanted to be.So when he saw Percy on the ground, with a nose bleed that stained the front of his shirt an awful rusty color, all Luke had to do was growl a low, ‘walk away. Now’, and the three boys took off at a sprint. He only vaguely recognized two of them from the Ares cabin and one from Aphrodite, but he didn’t care enough to do more with the information at the moment because Percy was staring up at him with green eyes electric and burning. 
And Luke recognizes those kinds of eyes. They’re the same as his. There's a light like dying stars in them. Angry and terrified and burning with something terrible and so full of single-minded devotion that it has to hurt. And it leaves something aching and red hot in Luke’s stomach when he takes a step forward only for Percy to flinch away out of reflex.
“I’m fine,” Percy said like a knee jerk reaction before Luke could even ask, barking it in a mean and biting way that Luke didn’t take any offense to because he remembers what if felt like to be twelve and have your pride hurt. So Luke doesn’t question it, because Percy is scrappier and stronger than anyone probably ever gave him credit for, and offers a silent hand and the gentlest smile he can muster. Luke does his best to ignore the thumping jolt of anger that vibrates through him when Percy takes it almost immediately and so desperately, like it’s his only lifeline in the world, and wonders what kind of people were in Percy’s life before camp that made him so hungry for a positive human connection. 
Percy apologizes a second later with a horrified expression, jumping out of reach when he notices he got blood on Luke’s hand.
“Don’t worry about it. Let's just get you to the Apollo cabin. Lee keeps a first aid kit and a jar of ambrosia superglued to him at all times after Cecil Markowitz’s third greek fire burn.” The comment was supposed to lighten the mood somewhat, but Percy’s face darkens as he takes a step back from Luke.
“Um, no thanks,” Percy says in almost a pained whisper, hugging his middle and trying to wipe the continuous flow of blood from running down his chin by holding his head back. “It smells too much like the infirmary in there. And I hate the way ambrosia burns down my throat. I’m good, Luke, really.”
And that should have tipped Luke off to some bigger problem, but he can’t concentrate on it because he’s already closing the distance between them faster than Percy could object, and softly pushing the back of Percy’s head down towards the ground. “Pinch here, just above your nostrils, and lean forward unless you want the blood to go down your throat.” He instructs, guiding Percy’s bloodied hand to his nose.
Luke can’t rightly blame Percy for his hesitance. The kid’s first moments of conscious grief since his new life as a half-blood began was spent in the camp infirmary, nursing the pain of losing his mom while also nursing actual physical wounds with acidic nectar and ambrosia that even Luke can attest to growing disgust for after the first few battle wounds of his own. Anyone would have some kind of underlying trauma from that, and Percy didn’t have to outwardly admit how uncomfortable he was at the idea for Luke to understand.
Being a 12-year-old without a mom was hard enough. The problems of a half-blood added on top of that was almost a cruel joke that Luke bitterly couldn’t believe was a reality for most the kids at camp.
“Annabeth used to get into a lot of fights too, I’ve gotten pretty used to fixing noses the old fashioned way. Come on, I have a spare medkit in the combat arena,” Luke says, pressing a hand to Percy’s back, not giving him a chance to escape because dammit, someone had to care for this kid. And Percy doesn’t smile, but something in those sharp green eyes turn leaf like and muted as he lets himself get led from out from behind the armory.
No one really bats an eye towards Percy as they walked, and Luke could only assume it’s because he looks like he’s about to kill anyone that tried with a stone-cold glare that could rival Medusa’s. 
No one was is in the arena when they get there, and Luke instructs Percy to keep the cold washcloth Luke had snagged for him on his nose for about ten minutes, keeping upright to help stop the bleeding. They don’t say anything after that, they just sit on the arena steps and watch the campers from the Demeter cabin try to flip the canoes of some Aphrodite kids with little success, while they wait. 
Luke doesn’t ask any questions on what happened or why, he feels like the answer wouldn’t matter anyway, but Percy eventually softens in the silence between them. Luke pretends he doesn’t notice Percy’s eyes get red and wet as he rubs at them angrily with the palm of his hand.
After about fifteen minutes, and a fresh camp shirt that Luke had given him to replace Percy’s stained one, Percy looked no worse for wear, at least.
“Thanks,” he says softly, like he was thanking Luke for a million things at once, and Luke was all too aware of the crack in his voice and the angry hunch of his shoulders that made him look whole years to young to be angry at the world.
“Don’t thank me just yet, I need your help with something,” Luke decides as he stands up and walks back into arena, not looking back to see if Percy is following him because he knows he is.
“Alright,” he says once they make it to the middle of the dusty pit, holding his hands out in front of his chest and adjusting his stance as Percy looks at him with a doe-eyed curiosity and confusion. “Come at me with all you got.”
Percy frowns, and sniffs once before rubbing his nose with the back of his hand. “What? Dude I already got my butt handed to me, I don’t need another nose bleed on top of a few broken bones.”
Luke can’t help but smile at that. “Come on, humor me. I have a few unchecked microaggressions I need to work out and you owe me. I promise I won’t aim for your nose.”
Percy frown deepens, but he sighs like the whole world is weighted on in and gets into a fighting stance of his own, keeping his fists close to his chest.
Now it was Luke’s turn to frown. “Aww dude, you’re breaking my heart here.”
He relaxes his stance and walks over to where Percy stood, dodging the lame attempt of a punch and catching Percy’s fist in the palm of his hand, readjusting Percy’s fingers. “Thumb goes here unless you want to break it. And you wanna keep your fists closer to bottom of your chin.”
Luke uses his own foot to shift Percy’s into a more stable stance. “Feet this far apart and bend your knees, or you’re gonna get knocked down no matter what happens. Try to punch me again.”
Frowning more out of concentration then confusion, Percy took another swing that Luke caught easily and without letting go, pulled it back towards Percy’s shoulder and used his other hand to straighten Percy’s back. “Use these muscles here and punch straight out. You keep swinging too wide and putting all your force behind it, leaving you open.”
He guided Percy’s hand with his own, twisting it slowly in the form of a punch. “You’re gonna feel the bones in your arm want to move this way. Let them and you’ll get more force out of it.”
Percy hummed something like acknowledgment, so Luke let go and retook his stance in front of Percy, mimicking his same posture from before. “Try it again.”
Luke still caught Percy’s fist in his own, but a smile broke his face in two when he, not unkindly, pushed Percy back aways. “A couple more hits like that, and my hand may actually start to hurt, Jackson.”
And the grin that crept upon the twelve-year-olds face was something bright and delighted and outshining the stars as easy as breathing, and Luke soaked in every inch as they continued for the better half of the morning sparing till the lunch horn sounded.
Percy was so much like a younger Luke that is actually scared him, but moments like this, where he knew practical methods of defense would help Percy better than any reassurance that bullies would eventually leave him alone ever could. And Luke knew that Percy wouldn’t be ok with anyone fighting his battles for him, even if it would have been so easy for Luke to channel some of that unchecked rage into beating the ever-living snot out of anyone who looked sideways at Percy again. Just like he knew that Percy wouldn’t ask for help if it wasn’t already freely giving, or that trust was a hard thing to earn when your whole life was built around people burning that bridge before you could ever extend it.
But Luke was prepared for the challenge, and with Percy chatting happily away from underneath where Luke rested his arm across his shoulders as they made their way to the dining Pavillion, Luke could feel the edges of his anger slowly quiet into something barely there. And it’s a feeling that carries him throughout the rest of the day. A feeling that he wants to bottle up and keep on a shelf whenever he wants to forget what hating the world feels like.
Because if it feels like it’s worth it just to keep kids like Percy smiling for the rest of forever, well then, Luke could handle forgiving some of his anger, and letting his heart rest on his sleeves just a little bit more.
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surprisebitch · 5 years
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My 10 All-time Fave Anime
I first wanna get it out there that there is still a lot of anime I plan to watch and have yet to finish. This current top 10 all-time fave list is based from anime I have completed. I am currently watching a lot of anime, so this list could potentially change!
Each synopsis comes from MyAnimeList. Here’s my profile if you’re interested, and feel free to send a friend request!
Anyway, onto the list! This is not in order btw, just 10 titles!
My 10 All-time Fave Anime
1. Given (2019)
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Tightly clutching his Gibson guitar, Mafuyu Satou steps out of his dark apartment to begin another day of his high school life. While taking a nap in a quiet spot on the gymnasium staircase, he has a chance encounter with fellow student Ritsuka Uenoyama, who berates him for letting his guitar’s strings rust and break. Noticing Uenoyama’s knowledge of the instrument, Satou pleads for him to fix it and to teach him how to play. Uenoyama eventually agrees and invites him to sit in on a jam session with his two band mates: bassist Haruki Nakayama and drummer Akihiko Kaji.
Satou’s voice is strikingly beautiful, filling Uenoyama with the determination to make Satou the lead singer of the band. Though reticent at first, Satou takes the offer after an emotional meeting with an old friend. With the support of his new friends, Satou must not only learn how to play guitar, but also come to terms with the mysterious circumstances that led him to be its owner.
2. Rurouni Kenshin (1996)
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In the final years of the Bakumatsu era lived a legendary assassin known as Hitokiri Battousai. Feared as a merciless killer, he was unmatched throughout the country, but mysteriously disappeared at the peak of the Japanese Revolution. It has been ten peaceful years since then, but the very mention of Battousai still strikes terror into the hearts of war veterans.
Unbeknownst to them, Battousai has abandoned his bloodstained lifestyle in an effort to repent for his sins, now living as Kenshin Himura, a wandering swordsman with a cheerful attitude and a strong will. Vowing never to kill again, Kenshin dedicates himself to protecting the weak. One day, he stumbles across Kaoru Kamiya at her kendo dojo, which is being threatened by an impostor claiming to be Battousai. After receiving help from Kenshin, Kaoru allows him to stay at the dojo, and so the former assassin temporarily ceases his travels.
Rurouni Kenshin: Meiji Kenkaku Romantan tells the story of Kenshin as he strives to save those in need of saving. However, as enemies from both past and present begin to emerge, will the reformed killer be able to uphold his new ideals?
3. Assassination Classroom (2015)
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When a mysterious creature chops the moon down to a permanent crescent, the students of class 3-E of Kunugigaoka Middle School find themselves confronted with an enormous task: assassinate the creature responsible for the disaster before Earth suffers a similar fate. However, the monster, dubbed Koro-sensei (the indestructible teacher), is able to fly at speeds of up to Mach 20, which he demonstrates freely, leaving any attempt to subdue him in his extraterrestrial dust. Furthermore, the misfits of 3-E soon find that the strange, tentacled beast is more than just indomitable—he is the best teacher they have ever had.
Adapted from the humorous hit manga by Yuusei Matsui, Ansatsu Kyoushitsu tells the story of these junior high pupils as they polish their assassination skills and grow in order to stand strong against the oppressive school system, their own life problems, and one day, Koro-sensei.
4. My Hero Academia (2016)
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The appearance of “quirks,” newly discovered super powers, has been steadily increasing over the years, with 80 percent of humanity possessing various abilities from manipulation of elements to shapeshifting. This leaves the remainder of the world completely powerless, and Izuku Midoriya is one such individual.
Since he was a child, the ambitious middle schooler has wanted nothing more than to be a hero. Izuku’s unfair fate leaves him admiring heroes and taking notes on them whenever he can. But it seems that his persistence has borne some fruit: Izuku meets the number one hero and his personal idol, All Might. All Might’s quirk is a unique ability that can be inherited, and he has chosen Izuku to be his successor!
Enduring many months of grueling training, Izuku enrolls in UA High, a prestigious high school famous for its excellent hero training program, and this year’s freshmen look especially promising. With his bizarre but talented classmates and the looming threat of a villainous organization, Izuku will soon learn what it really means to be a hero.
5. Attack on Titan (2013)
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Centuries ago, mankind was slaughtered to near extinction by monstrous humanoid creatures called titans, forcing humans to hide in fear behind enormous concentric walls. What makes these giants truly terrifying is that their taste for human flesh is not born out of hunger but what appears to be out of pleasure. To ensure their survival, the remnants of humanity began living within defensive barriers, resulting in one hundred years without a single titan encounter. However, that fragile calm is soon shattered when a colossal titan manages to breach the supposedly impregnable outer wall, reigniting the fight for survival against the man-eating abominations.
After witnessing a horrific personal loss at the hands of the invading creatures, Eren Yeager dedicates his life to their eradication by enlisting into the Survey Corps, an elite military unit that combats the merciless humanoids outside the protection of the walls. Based on Hajime Isayama’s award-winning manga, Shingeki no Kyojin follows Eren, along with his adopted sister Mikasa Ackerman and his childhood friend Armin Arlert, as they join the brutal war against the titans and race to discover a way of defeating them before the last walls are breached.
6. Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica (2011)
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Madoka Kaname and Sayaka Miki are regular middle school girls with regular lives, but all that changes when they encounter Kyuubey, a cat-like magical familiar, and Homura Akemi, the new transfer student.
Kyuubey offers them a proposition: he will grant any one of their wishes and in exchange, they will each become a magical girl, gaining enough power to fulfill their dreams. However, Homura Akemi, a magical girl herself, urges them not to accept the offer, stating that everything is not what it seems.
A story of hope, despair, and friendship, Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica deals with the difficulties of being a magical girl and the price one has to pay to make a dream come true.
7. Hunter X Hunter (2011)
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Hunter x Hunter is set in a world where Hunters exist to perform all manner of dangerous tasks like capturing criminals and bravely searching for lost treasures in uncharted territories. Twelve-year-old Gon Freecss is determined to become the best Hunter possible in hopes of finding his father, who was a Hunter himself and had long ago abandoned his young son. However, Gon soon realizes the path to achieving his goals is far more challenging than he could have ever imagined.
Along the way to becoming an official Hunter, Gon befriends the lively doctor-in-training Leorio, vengeful Kurapika, and rebellious ex-assassin Killua. To attain their own goals and desires, together the four of them take the Hunter Exam, notorious for its low success rate and high probability of death. Throughout their journey, Gon and his friends embark on an adventure that puts them through many hardships and struggles. They will meet a plethora of monsters, creatures, and characters—all while learning what being a Hunter truly means.
8. Ranma ½ (1989)
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Ranma Saotome is a top-class martial artist and prodigy at the Saotome “Anything-Goes” school of martial arts. While training in China, he and his father meet a terrible fate when they accidentally fall into a cursed spring. Now, Ranma is cursed to turn into a girl when splashed with cold water, and only hot water can turn him back into a boy.
Things are only complicated further when Ranma discovers that his father has arranged for him to marry one of Soun Tendo’s three daughters in order to secure the future of the Tendo dojo. Though Soun learns of Ranma’s predicament, he is still determined to go ahead with the engagement, and chooses his youngest daughter Akane, who happens to be a skilled martial artist herself and is notorious for hating men.
Ranma ½ follows the hilarious adventures of Ranma and Akane as they encounter various opponents, meet new love interests, and find different ways to make each other angry, all while their engagement hangs over their head.
9. Love Live! School Idol Project (2013)
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Otonokizaka High School is in a crisis! With the number of enrolling students dropping lower and lower every year, the school is set to shut down after its current first years graduate. However, second year Honoka Kousaka refuses to let it go without a fight. Searching for a solution, she comes across popular school idol group A-RISE and sets out to create a school idol group of her own. With the help of her childhood friends Umi Sonoda and Kotori Minami, Honoka forms μ’s (pronounced “muse”) to boost awareness and popularity of her school.
Unfortunately, it’s all easier said than done. Student council president Eri Ayase vehemently opposes the establishment of a school idol group and will do anything in her power to prevent its creation. Moreover, Honoka and her friends have trouble attracting any additional members. But the Love Live, a competition to determine the best and most beloved school idol groups in Japan, can help them gain the attention they desperately need. With the contest fast approaching, Honoka must act quickly and diligently to try and bring together a school idol group and win the Love Live in order to save Otonokizaka High School.
10. Demon Slayer (2019)
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Ever since the death of his father, the burden of supporting the family has fallen upon Tanjirou Kamado’s shoulders. Though living impoverished on a remote mountain, the Kamado family are able to enjoy a relatively peaceful and happy life. One day, Tanjirou decides to go down to the local village to make a little money selling charcoal. On his way back, night falls, forcing Tanjirou to take shelter in the house of a strange man, who warns him of the existence of flesh-eating demons that lurk in the woods at night.
When he finally arrives back home the next day, he is met with a horrifying sight—his whole family has been slaughtered. Worse still, the sole survivor is his sister Nezuko, who has been turned into a bloodthirsty demon. Consumed by rage and hatred, Tanjirou swears to avenge his family and stay by his only remaining sibling. Alongside the mysterious group calling themselves the Demon Slayer Corps, Tanjirou will do whatever it takes to slay the demons and protect the remnants of his beloved sister’s humanity.
I hope you find something you like here and will check some of my faves out!! ❤️ Let me know if you do and what you think!!! x
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stealingpotatoes · 4 years
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First Meeting
Ao3 link
Summary: Alexi Mayhew meets Empress Emily Kaldwin for the first time. But it doesn’t really happen how she thought it would.
(nb: Going off extra lore stuff, Alexi and Emily were close good friends when they were kids, so I thought I’d write a little thing on smol Emily & Alexi meeting cause ya know… why not? Also realised I never posted this to tumblr so... here it is now!)
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Alexi hated getting dressed up. Back in Potterstead, she almost never had to get all dressed up formally, but she’d barely lived in Dunwall more than two months, and it already felt like she’d been to more formal things here than she had in her whole life before moving here. And in Dunwall Tower -- because that meant they were at the Empress’ court, apparently -- Alexi had to be even more formal. Her almost-floor-length green dress was too stiff and her mother had done her hair up with too many pins. Alexi hated it. 
And they were at a boring meeting or talk or something. But the Empress wasn’t even there, because they were actually seeing her this evening, so really Alexi didn’t even need to look ‘nice’ until then. She didn’t even know what they were doing in Dunwall Tower, really. Her parents owned shops; they weren’t nobles.  
But one thing Alexi did know was that she was unbelievably bored just standing there. So she had slipped out of the room, taken her hair down, and began wandering about the Tower. None of the guards seemed to pay her much mind, so she guessed that she was allowed to. She eventually wound up in a hallway with a bunch of paintings along the walls. Some of them had various Emperors and Empresses, some of them were just random places or maybe events. Alexi found herself particularly drawn to a large painting of an Emperor in a formal-ish military outfit, holding a sword in the air in a very commanding way while on a rearing horse, with parts of a battle going on in the background. Alexi began imagining herself as this great general-Emperor. 
Alexi was so caught up in the painting that she didn’t notice the sound of someone running down the hall until it was too late. The second she turned around to see what was happening or who it was, she was met by the full impact of someone running into her. Alexi painfully fell straight on her butt.
After a second, she opened her eyes to see a young girl with short-ish black hair, probably about eleven or twelve- Alexi’s age, quickly pushing herself up from the floor. 
“Oh! I’m so sorry-- I didn’t see you,” The girl, now standing, extended a hand to Alexi.
Alexi took her girl’s hand, and she helped pull Alexi to her feet.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry.” Alexi said, moving her braided hair behind her back and dusting herself off, “Though, maybe look where you’re going next time?”
“...I had to check if I was being followed!” The girl exclaimed, “But- yes, sorry, I’ll… do that.” She rubbed her arm sheepishly. 
Now that they’d both stopped moving, Alexi had a better look at the girl in front of her. She was taller than Alexi, a little lanky really, and wearing an expensive-looking black trouser suit with fine silver embroidery and white trimmings. Her hair had been messed up, probably from the speeding down the halls and the running-right-into-Alexi. 
“Who might be following you?” Alexi asked. 
The girl tilted her head to the side, “Um- a few people...” she paused and looked Alexi up and down, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 
“This is my first time in the Tower” Alexi fiddled with the fabric of her skirts a little, “I’m here with my parents. We’re supposed to be meeting the Empress later today or something.”
The girl looked at Alexi thoughtfully before smiling like she knew something Alexi didn’t, “Why aren’t you with them?”
“I was with them, at some really boring meeting-talk-thing. But it was um-- really boring. So…” Alexi shrugged, “I thought I’d explore.” 
The girl laughed a little, “There’s no shortage of boring meetings in Dunwall Tower.” 
“Do you have to go to those things with your parents too?”
The girl did that smile again, “Something like that…”
Alexi ignored how vague the girl was being, “Um- what were you running from?”
“My lessons.” 
“Oh- That explains why you were running so fast.” Alexi said, smiling. Did people have lessons in the Tower? 
The girl giggled. “What’s your name?” 
“Alexi Mayhew.” Alexi said proudly, “What’s yours?”
“Emily Kaldwin.”
It took a second for the penny to drop. Alexi knew that Empress Emily was her age, had black hair, and she had a rough idea of what the Empress looked like from newspapers and various images. Maybe she just wasn’t actually expecting a child, someone like her -- maybe she’d imagined someone more like the paintings around her, all regal and not running down hallways at great speeds. But Alexi really should’ve noticed it sooner. 
This realisation must have shown on her face, because Emily giggled a little. 
Alexi’s brow furrowed, “Um- Do I have to call you Your Majesty? Or bow…?”
Emily seemed to think about it for a second, “Technically yes, but you can call me Emily.”
“ Phew. Well uh-” Alexi put her hand out, quickly recovering- “it’s nice to meet you, Emily.”
Emily looked at Alexi’s hand, slightly confused, for a moment, before suddenly shaking it, “It’s nice to meet you too, Alexi.”
Neither of them said anything for a few moments, and Alexi found herself looking at the painting that they were both standing under again. 
Emily glanced up at the painting too, and then at a clock near them, “Do you want to see some actual fighting?” 
Alexi nodded enthusiastically. 
Emily gestured for Alexi to follow, and led her along two halls, until they reached a window seat. Emily climbed into the alcove on her knees, before looking back and gesturing for Alexi to come up, “Come on!”
Alexi pushed herself onto the window seat to kneel next to Emily, and looked out the window. Alexi put her hands to the window sill. Below them, the Dunwall Tower guards were sparring with each other in the training yard. There were maybe 20 guards, plus a captain walking in the space between the sparring matches, yelling things Alexi couldn’t hear. They were all duelling with swords- properly fighting
“ Cool, ” Alexi grinned.
“I know,” Emily said, still staring out the window. 
The guards continued to duel below. They were all good duellists, which made sense, seeing as only the best of the City Watch guarded Dunwall Tower. It was impressive to watch all of them fight. 
“I want to be able to fight like that,” Alexi said, not taking her eyes off the
“Me too,” Emily said, a little quieter than before. 
“When I’m old enough, I’m going to join the City Watch.” Alexi turned to Emily.
Emily faced Alexi, “Maybe I’ll see you training out here soon.”
“Yeah! And you- when you learn to sword fight too.”
Emily chuckled a little, “I don’t think the City Watch will let me spar with them.”
“Why not? It’s technically your training grounds, right?” Alexi twisted her hand on the sill in Emily’s direction. 
Emily tilted her head and smirked, “I suppose so.” 
Alexi turned back to the window and stared at the guards, still duelling. But she saw Emily looking at her in her peripheral vision and turned her head to face her. “What is it?” she asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. 
Emily half-shrugged, “Everyone’s usually so weird around me. But you’re… not. You’re different.”
“Is that a bad thing?” Alexi asked, cautiously. She was pretty sure that she was ignoring every single piece of ‘etiquette’ she was meant to know, but etiquette was dumb, so she didn’t care. 
“Oh- no! Definitely not. No, it’s a good thing.” Emily smiled reassuringly.
Alexi smiled back, “So what’s weird? Do they ”
Emily returned to looking out the window and Alexi did the same. “No, people just act like I’m made of glass or-- Woah , did you see that?!” Emily asked.
“See what?” Alexi looked between the guards. 
Emily pointed to a guard on the floor, “His opponent just dodged him perfectly and did this uh- leg swipe, and floored him! It was awesome!”
“Maybe he’ll do it again--”
“Emily?” A man’s rough voice came from the end of the hall, interrupting Alexi.   
Emily glanced behind her before looking back to Alexi, annoyed, and huffing, “Callista got Corvo to find me.”
“As in Corvo Attano?” Alexi asked, eyes widening.
Emily nodded. 
Alexi knew she’d get to see Corvo Attano today, because the Royal Protector was almost always with the Empress. And if Alexi was being honest, she’d been way more excited to see him than she had been to see the Empress. Because- well, Corvo Attano was a legend! Alexi had heard that he could fight ten armed men at once, with just his bare hands . And that he was the best swordsman and hand-to-hand combatant in all the Isles. And that last year, he’d escaped Coldridge Prison (Coldridge! Nobody escaped Coldridge!), saved Empress Emily twice, taken down the evil Lord Regent (and those other bad people who ruled for like 2 days afterwards) and cleared his name, almost entirely by himself! Earlier, Alexi had almost been hoping that some assassins or something would show up when she was meeting the Empress, just so she’d get to see him in action. And so everything would be less boring. 
Emily got down from the seat and Alexi followed suit. 
As they got down, a man in a long dark blue coat with gold-yellow trimmings walked around the corner. “Emily-” he said, seeing them and picking up his pace a little. He stopped when he was about a step or two away from them. 
Alexi looked up at the man in front of her. She could definitely believe that he’d done all she’d heard. He was so tall as well. There was a sword at his belt- well, a sword hilt. It didn’t have a blade, which was weird. 
Alexi stood up a little straighter. 
“Corvo, this is Alexi Mayhew. Alexi, this is Corvo.” Emily said, gesturing between Alexi and Corvo. 
Corvo gave Alexi a nod and a smile in place of a greeting. Alexi copied him and smiled and nodded back, hoping she didn’t look too in awe. 
Corvo turned to Emily, “You’re meant to be in lessons, Your Majesty.”  
Emily huffed and dropped her shoulders, “I know, I’m coming.”
“Miss Mayhew, do you need someone to escort you back to your parents?” Corvo asked, looking at Alexi again.
Could he read her mind?! Or… was it just his job to know everything that happened in the tower…? Probably the second one. “I um- yes please.” Alexi said, fiddling with her dress again. 
Corvo gave her another single nod, before turning away slightly and making eye contact with Emily. 
Emily moved next to Corvo, “It was nice talking to you, Alexi.”
“You too!” Alexi smiled.
With that, Emily and Corvo turned and began walking away. Emily smiled and waved over her shoulder as they walked, “See you later!”
Alexi waved back. 
-
“You took longer than usual,” Emily said once she and Corvo rounded the corner. 
“You two sounded like you were having a nice talk. I didn’t want to interrupt.”
“Then why did you?” Emily looked up at her father. 
“Because you’re supposed to be in lessons, and you can’t keep Callista waiting forever,” Corvo said, glancing down at Emily. 
Emily let out a little ‘hmph’ and continued walking, “Can I see Alexi again? I liked her.”
“You’re meeting the Mayhews later today.” 
Emily tilted her head, “Alexi said something like that.” She was glad that at least Corvo remembered her schedule and knew what was happening. Emily knew she didn’t most of the time. 
Emily and Corvo walked on for a bit before Emily spoke again, “You know, really I was performing my Imperial duties by showing Alexi around.”
“Oh? Well, right now, you need to perform your Imperial duty to go to your lessons.” 
“Not if I run off again,” Emily said with a sly grin. 
Corvo put a hand on Emily’s shoulder -- gentle, but firm enough to stop her from moving off too fast -- and looked down at her with an amused expression “ Lessons. ”
Emily sighed, “Fine.” 
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schrijverr · 4 years
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A Familiar Face
Despite their looks when they return to Narnia the second time, the Pevensie siblings have all grown up once before and Peter had even been married. Upon returning he is not happy to see that an idiot of a prince has not only stolen his crown, but also the face of his lover.
Narnia Prince Caspian rewrite, but then make it gay
On AO3.
Ships: Peter/OMC that is also Caspian, Peter/Caspian
Warnings: homophobia mentioned, Peter is grieving and angry. Tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag somethine
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The Pevensie siblings had been quite confused to hear about love between a man and a man or a woman and a woman when they had first started their reign. But in Narnia love is love and with their young minds this was a simple truth to accept.
For the first few years none of them really thought about it, until Peter was saved on the battlefield by a young dashing soldier, who had hauled him up with a grin and a bow.
Peter had stared after him dumbfound for a second, before his attention was pulled back to the battle by an ax nearly hitting his head.
Over the next few weeks, he couldn't get the young man out of his head. He’d tried to shake it off and didn’t want to believe it. It was only okay for others to feel like that, not him, not High King Peter. What about heirs?
No, Peter could not be like that.
However, the thoughts stayed and he found himself wanting to give in. He knew he couldn't, he had avoided finding out in which squadron the boy was so it wouldn't cloud his judgment when coming up with a strategy. But his mind did long for it.
Peter grew over it though and only saw it fit to mention it to his siblings when it had happened again. This time it had been a young knight, who had bested him during a tournament.
When he returned to the others later, after he had talked to the knight, who was called Darian. He softly said: “It is good that we came here, for I might be able to marry out of love in these lands.”
He swallowed thickly as he waited for what they would respond. He knew they were accepting of their subjects, but how would they feel about their own brother?
“Oh, oh my.” Susan replied with wide eyes, before her face softened and she smiled as she said: “Well, then I am also glad that we came here.”
Lucy engulfed him in a big hug, nearly the same height as he was now, as she said: “Oh, Peter, how wonderful for you!”
Edmund waited until the hug was over, before he knowingly smirked: “Any reason you’re telling us this now, brother? Perhaps a fellow swordsman?”
He had always been too observant for his own good and Peter could feel the blush creeping over his face as he looked away quickly. Susan and Lucy quickly caught on and soon he was pushed down on the couch as they tried to drag all the details out of him.
Later he would be grateful to them for pushing him to talk more with Darian, but now he grumbled embarrassed as he was.
Darian was kind and funny and an amazing sword fighter.
Everyday Peter fell harder and he couldn't be more overjoyed that his feelings were returned with Darian claiming he never made the best decisions when it came to love with a smirk and a wink after Peter had asked him if he didn’t mind Peter being the High King.
Susan once commented to Lucy and Edmund that she had never seen Peter happier than when he was with Darian. Something they agreed with wholeheartedly.
Peter and Darian married in the fifteenth year of their reign when Peter was twenty-seven and Darian twenty-nine. It had been a logistical nightmare to prepare the law for it to work out seamlessly, but the ceremony had been beautiful.
Both had worn white tunics and at the end their cheeks had hurt from smiling and their feet from dancing.
Three years later the four siblings disappeared chasing a white stag that was said to be able to grant any wish. Peter would never tell his siblings how he had intended to wish he and Darian could’ve had children of their own.
Darian would try and pick up the reign in their absence, but die in from heartbreak soon after his love had vanished. Leaving Cair Paraval vulnerable to attack.
Meanwhile Peter had suddenly been pushed back into the body of a child, just twelve-years-old, with the mind of an adult and the grief of a widower.
Susan had tried to broach the subject with him, but he had snapped and yelled, only breaking down to cry when she had fled the room for his outburst. He wanted to go home, he wanted to see his husband and have him hug him and tell him it was alright.
He ruined his hands trying to break the back of that goddamned wardrobe trying to return to his love to no avail.
They were stuck here and it didn’t look like they were going back as life went on.
Their mother had no clue what to do with the serious and far away eyes her children now wore and had send them away once more, this time to a boarding school.
Peter remained silent throughout almost the all years. Sure, he would talk with the others about the Beavers, Mr. Tumnus and all the other things they had left behind, but he would become withdrawn and silent whenever Darian was mentioned.
The first time he mentioned the name himself was after he’d been beaten up on a train station for the so many-th time. Susan asked: “What was it this time.”
“He bumped me.” Peter answered shortly.
“So you hit him?” Susan exclaimed.
“No, okay, that’s not the reason- just, nevermind.” Peter turned away from her, fists clenched.
“Then what was it, Peter? Just talk to me.” Susan said, trying to get through to her brother for once after all this time. They used to be so close, now it was just this.
Peter took a deep breath, then he turned around and looked her in the eye: “He looked like Darian, okay. I ran up to the guy because for a split second I thought I saw him and then it was just a stupid guy, who asked me what the fuck my problem was, so yeah, I hit him.”
“Oh, Peter.” Susan sighed as the other two gave him a look of pity.
He snapped: “Don’t ‘oh, Peter,’ me, okay, just don’t. I’m just tried of being treated as a kid.”
“We are kids.” Edmund said and sometimes Peter hated how the little shit was always right. It was annoying.
“Well, I wasn’t always.” he moped as he slumped down on the bench, “It’s been a few years and I just want to go home. How long does he expect us to wait?”
Susan gave him a sad look and softly said: “I think it’s time to accept that we live here. It’s no use pretending any different.”
She looked over to the platform and got big eyes, but before she could say something else Lucy shot up with a shriek. So, she hissed: “Quiet, Lu.”
“Something pinched me.” she exclaimed, looking around.
Peter was about to look who it had been when someone tugged on his hair from behind, Ed, the fucker. He got up and yelled: “Stop pulling.”
“Not touching you.” Edmund frowned at him.
Susan looked at the train starting to pass and asked: “What is that?”
“It feels like magic.” Lucy replied.
“Quick hold hands!” Susan told them.
Beside Peter Edmund complained, but Peter didn’t really listen and grabbed his hand. They were going home, he was going to see Darian again.
The train station turned into a cave and soon they were running on the beach and into the water while yelling a having fun. Their return was interrupted by Edmund, who asked: “Where do you suppose we are?”
“Well, where do you think?” Peter couldn't believe Edmund hadn’t realized where they were, they had ruled these lands for eighteen years, even Edmund couldn't forget that in a few years of being back in their original world.
“Well, I don’t remember there being any ruins in Narnia.” Edmund said.
That got Peters attention and he looked up. They had to rebuild their land from scratch and every ruin had been a reminder of what had been lost to the White Witch, so they had made sure none were left, but Edmund was right, again, and also annoying, again.
There was a ruin on top of a familiar hill.
A pit started to form in Peter stomach as they all hurried to put their shoes back on so that they could explore these mysterious ruins.
Lucy frowned, probably desperate not to believe, and asked: “I wonder who lived here.”
Susan picked something up from the ground and confirmed their worst fears: “I think we did.”
“Hey, that’s mine.” Edmund pulled it from her hand, “From my chess set.”
“Which chess set?” Peter asked, still hoping it all isn’t true.
Edmund didn’t care or didn’t notice as he replied: “Well, I didn’t have a solid gold chess set in Finchley, did I?”
Peter was about to break down and cry, his home, his husband to which he wanted to return so badly was ripped from him, even if he was here once more, when Lucy pulled him away from the edge with a: “It can’t be.”
Then she ran off and Peter would always be the big brother that ran after her, while he yelled: “Lucy!”
“Don’t you see?” she asked, standing on a ruined platform.
Peter desperately didn’t want to see, but still asked: “What?” hoping the answer wouldn't be what he thought it was.
“Imagine walls, and columns there and a glass roof.” Lucy sounded excited about it as she pointed and made the other look at their former home.
Before his eyes the walls rebuilt themselves in his memory along with stolen moments and good times. He confirmed: “Cair Paravel.”
They explored the ruins of Cair Paravel as they wondered what could have possibly happened and how long they had been gone.
“Catapults.” Edmund suddenly said, looking down.
“What?” Peter choked, immediately all kinds of scenarios started to whirl in his head as Darian died a thousand horrible deaths in his minds eye.
“This didn’t just happen, Cair Paravel was attacked.” Edmund explained, taking his upset for confusion.
If there was a siege, perhaps their stuff from when they were young would have been taken as well, and Peter didn’t want tot think about what certain things could to in the wrong hands. He followed old routes easily and soon he and Edmund were clearing the way to the treasury room.
There was a bit of levity as Edmund tried to cheer him up with the flash-light. Peter smiled at his brother, he appreciated the gesture, but there was still a heaviness in his heart.
“I can’t believe it. It’s all still here.” he said, glad their weapons hadn’t been taken by whoever had done this as he approached his chest, while the others rushed to theirs as well.
Lucy pulled out a dress and exclaimed: “I was so tall!”
“Well, you were older then.” Susan replied.
“As opposed to hundreds of years later. When you are younger.” Edmund added and Peter felt a stab of pain go through his heart once more. He had returned, but he was too late. His lover was dead, his home was destroyed and he hadn’t seen any of his people.
In the background the others chattered on while Peter slowly drew his sword. It felt balanced in his hand as it had always done and he read the inscription out loud to himself: “When Aslan bears his teeth, winter meets its death.”
“And when he shakes his mane, we shall have spring again.” Lucy finished, then the realization of what it all meant sank in on her as she said: “Everyone we knew: Mr. Tumnus and the Beavers, they’re all gone.”
“I think it’s time we found out what’s going on.” Peter said, before he fell to his knees to rummage around in his chest, hoping to find some clues or at least some better clothes to wear.
He ignored the wedding tunic in his chest as he blinked away the tears, he knew that they had saved a few clothes from their youth at the bottom and he assumed that with everything as they left it, those must be there was well.
With no new clues there, they set out to find someone they could talk to in the hope that a person could tell them more about what had happened, both to Narnia and Darian. Although Peter was privately more interested in one of the two.
They meet a dwarf, Trumpkin, who was only slightly helpful even after Edmund beat him in a duel and he believed they were who they said they were. Although they did get the clue that Telmarines had invaded their country and they had been called by their Prince, Caspian.
“They used to dance.” Lucy lamented once they were in the boat.
Trumpkin gave her a look and explained: “It wasn’t long after you left that the Telmarines invaded. Those that survived retreated so deeply to the woods. And the trees have retreated so deeply into themselves that no one has heard from them since.”
“I don’t understand. How could Aslan have let this happen?” Lucy exclaimed, before Peter could ask about Darian.
“Alsan?” Trumpkin said, “I thought he abandoned us after you lot did.”
“Who took our places. Was it Darian?” Peter asked.
“Who’s Darian?” Trumpkin asked in return, stomping on the last bit of hope Peter had as the chasm in his chest opened further.
“No one.” Peter said, ignoring the looks from his siblings as he told Trumpkin: “We didn’t mean to leave, you know.”
“Doesn’t make much of a difference now, does it.” Trumpkin told him and Peter was honestly starting to get annoyed at the dwarf.
“Get us to the Narnians and it will.” Peter said determinedly. Fighting he could do, just turn off his mind and ignore the loss until it was over. Aslan must have returned them with a reason, he could figure out what had happened to Darian on his own.
None of them had realized how bad it had truly gotten until their encounter with the bear. It was all wrong, this wasn’t their Narnia, not anymore.
They walked through overgrown lands, without structures that could point them in the right way. Peter was not in the best frame of mind, but he kept pushing onward, perhaps letting his bad mood flow out in harsh comments to his siblings and the newly acquired ‘DLF’.
His siblings seemed to understand and didn’t push him. He tried to ignore the guilt at his own words, but it was easy to allow himself to wallow in the feeling. Better guilt than that ever crushing heartbreak and grief.
He just needed to find Aslan, once they found him, he could tell the Lion about everything and plead for his love to return to him.
But then Lucy saw him, but they didn’t and a small part of Peter began to doubt if Aslan would even come, even care.
However, Lucy kept on believing, which wasn’t really discouraged with how they got over the gorge. Already annoyed Peter followed her as she walked away from their camp on her own and almost got herself killed.
Peter signaled her to be quiet as he walked up to the minotaur, but before he arrived someone else came out of nowhere and clashed swords with him.
The new person left Peter unbalanced and in shock. He looked so much like Darian that it was almost unnatural, he was also just as good with a sword and after a few years without practice, Peter was on his back before he knew it.
“Prince Caspian?” he asked, starting to put together who they must’ve ran into.
“Yes.” he answered, with a slight foreign accent, “And who are you?”
Right at that moment Susan came running, calling out his name along with Edmund and Trumpkin right behind her. With the name Caspian looked at the sword as his eyes grew wide: “High King Peter?”
Peter had gotten up and replied: “I believe you called.”
“Well, yes, but I thought you’d be older.” Caspian told him.
So did I, Peter thought, getting irrationally irritated at the boy who had stolen his lovers face. He answered: “Well, if you’d like, we can come back in a few years.”
“No! No, that’s alright.” Caspian came back on his words, “You’re just- you’re just not exactly what I had expected.”
“Neither are you.” Edmund told him, looking at the minotaur and Peter was glad he was here to talk to this prince.
“A common enemy unites even the oldest of foes.” a badger said and they all hadn’t been more glad to see a talking animal.
A mouse walked up to Peter and bowed, before pledging his service. There was a slight miscommunication when Lucy couldn't help but comment on the apparent cuteness of the mouse, but Peter was glad he was here.
“Well, at least we know some of you can handle a blade.” he told the mouse.
He was even more glad when the mouse told him about the weapons they were gathering and told him as much: “Good, because we’re going to need every sword we can get.”
“Well, then, you’ll probably be wanting yours back.” Caspian offered him back his sword, the same expression on his face Darian would get whenever he had beaten Peter in combat. Wordlessly he snatched it back, before walking off. He did not want to be near this Caspian.
They were led to Aslans How and Caspian let them go in first. He apologized for the lack of luxury, but was ignored as Susan yelled: “Peter, you might want to see this.”
He ran up to her to see a carvings on the wall depicting the four of them. She looked at him and said: “It’s us.”
Next to him Lucy turned to Caspian and asked: “What is this place?”
“You don’t know?” Caspian asked with a frown and Peter kind of wanted to hit him, because of course they didn’t know, they had been away for so long that everything they did know had disappeared.
Still, he followed the prince as he showed them through the How to Aslans table. Peter silently hated seeing his face again after he pulled them back without giving him a chance to see his husband again.
Lucy saw his look and assured him: “He must know what he’s doing.”
“I think it’s up to us now.” Peter told her, not wanting to ruin her connection with Aslan, but also not in the mood to like the Lion or believe in him.
In the days after, he spent hours looking at the carvings. He still showed enough interest in all the other stuff to avoid suspicion from everyone that weren’t his siblings. But they knew who he was looking for on the walls.
There was nothing.
No clues, no tales, not even a mention. He knew this was about the four of them and Darian had only officially been part of the royal family for three years, but he couldn't imagine something so important being omitted.
Of course, there was also the option of the How being built by Darian in honor of their memory after he had left him behind, but that hurt too much to think off.
He only saw Caspian whenever he needed to do something about the war.
Peter didn’t know how he felt about that. On one hand, he was glad that he didn’t have to see that face without the person and the love he knew behind it, but on the other, he was desperate to imprint it in his mind while he still could.
Most of the time he was more glad. It was irrational to be mad at someone for not being the person you want them to be, but Peter still got angry whenever that accented voice spoke, instead of the kind teasing voice he knew.
So, he mostly ignored him and was glad of that fact.
Now, however he had to see it. Caspian had allowed him to speak, which had already irritated him, but he pushed it away to propose his plan: “Our only hope is to strike them before they strike us.”
“But that’s crazy, no one has ever taken that castle.” Caspian protested, too young to see the How for what really was.
“There is always a first time.” Peter told him, trying not to get irritated.
“We’ll have the element of surprise.” Trumpkin said, Peter was starting to like him more.
“But we have the advantage here.” Caspian argued.
“If we dig in, we could hold them off indefinitely.” Susan agreed with Caspian, making something flare up in Peters chest that he quickly pushed down.
“I for one feel safer underground.” the badger said.
Peter ignored the badger and turned to Caspian as he explained: “Look, I appreciate what you’ve done, but this isn’t a fortress, it’s a tomb.”
He had led enough sieges to know what starvation could do to people and with his own paintings on the walls it had never felt more like a final resting place, especially once you knew what had happened on that table.
“Yes, if the Telmarines are smart, they’ll starve us out.” Edmund agreed with Peter, he had always been a good right-hand man with a smart head on his shoulders and Peter was glad to have him on his side.
There was a bit of squabbling between the mouse, Reepicheep, and an squirrel, which Peter ignored in favor of asking Glenstorm: “If I can get your troops in, can you handle the guards?”
“Or die trying, my liege.” the centaur promised.
Peter was about to thank him when Lucy cut in: “That’s what I’m worried about.”
“What?” Peter asked, he appreciated Lucy’s input. He hadn’t forgotten how she had charged into battle alongside him and Edmund even if her body was too young to do so now.
“Well, you’re all acting like there are only two options: Dying here or dying there.” she said and Peter would really like to know what else she thought they could do, because in his eyes the situation was dire enough for a suicide mission and if he could save his men, he would.
Still, that third option was hard to believe and Peter already had a hard time believing these days, so he said: “I’m not sure, you’ve really been listening, Lu.”
“No, you’re not listening. Or have you forgotten who really defeated the White Witch.” she gestured to the Aslan mural on the wall.
He wanted to sigh. He knew Lucy had always had the most faith out of all of them, but couldn’t she see that Aslan had abandoned them? He did not care for this world or he would have never kicked them out, make him leave Darian behind.
It hadn’t even been Aslan who had pulled them back, just a harsh reminder that took the shape of a prince. Alsan wasn’t here anymore, it was up to them now.
“I think we’ve waited for Aslan long enough.” he told her, not missing the hurt look in her eyes, but he couldn't believe, not now, not after everything.
Peter had a plan to make, it had to be perfect or they were all doomed. He had to make sure this suicide run wasn’t for nothing.
When he finally realized he shouldn’t have given Caspian such an important roll, it was too late. He had allowed the face to make him over-calculate Caspians skills and now he was running off and ruining everything.
Getting to Miraz room and he was already there, ruining the plan by waking him. Caspian should have been ruthless. He was outnumbered, he couldn't afford to be dramatic, didn’t he see that? Beside all that, he wasn’t even supposed to be here.
“Caspian, what are you doing? You’re supposed to be at the gatehouse.” Peter was going to kill him once they got out of here. What were their troops going to do now?
The prince ignored him as the situation got more and more out of hand.
By the time they got out the bells were already ringing and all the surprise they had on their side was gone, but Peter wasn’t about to abandoned ship like that, he wasn’t like Aslan. So he ran down a different hallway as he yelled at Susan: “Our army is just outside.
Then he was yelling at Edmund, loyal Edmund, who was where he was supposed to be: “Now, Ed, now! Signal the troops.”
Edmund yelled something back, but he couldn't hear it, since he was too busy with opening the gates.
“Peter, it’s too late. We have to call it off while we still can.” Susan was next to him, but she wasn’t helping.
“No, I can still do this. Help me.” Peter told her desperately, he could still do this, he could still save Narnia, he could still make up for what he had done to his people, to Darian. Didn’t Susan see that they had to make it right again?
She started helping him along with Caspian, who should’ve been here already. As they were opening the gate, she asked him: “Just who exactly are you doing this for, Peter?”
“You know who.” he mumbled to her, but then the gate was opened and their troops ran in, so he screamed: “For Narnia.”
Then all around them there was the all too familiar chaos of battle. People were falling left and right from both sides, but they had to make it through.
“Get that gate closed.” he heard from above and soon enough the gate started to close.
Asterius was holding open the gates and it was too late. They had failed in seizing the castle. He yelled: “Fall back! Retreat!”
Glenstorm charged past, swinging Susan onto his back as she screamed at him: “Caspian.”
Peter looked around to see the idiot prince missing and he yelled back: “I’ll find him.”
Frantically he looked around for the missing Caspian. He’d hated him, still hated him, but he couldn't fail him. He was too much like Darian and he did not need to know how his husband would’ve looked like once he was dead.
A wave of relief crashed over him when he saw Caspian on horseback with an older man, presumably the professor he had wanted to free.
With that solved he set to retreating himself as well. Right as he was through the gate, Asterius collapsed and he looked back to the troops trapped inside with horror. They were going to get slaughtered.
He wanted to go back, go help them. As High King he should go back for them, he couldn't abandon his troops, but they also couldn't loose him. Then Caspian would be in charge and they would never survive with him.
Hot rage burned through his veins as he fled. Better rage than grieve and loss, he told himself, just push it down, don’t think about it.
They returned to the How lesser in number with no victory under their belts. Peter had ignored Caspian and Susan on the way back along with most of the troops that hadn’t been wounded.
“What happened?” Lucy asked, face horrified.
“Ask him.” Peter spat, nodding to Caspian.
“Peter.” Susan chided, and of course she did. She never took his side in this sort of thing, just like during the fight when she had insisted Caspian could still get to the gate in time. Like that had gone over so great.
“Me?” Caspian sounded indignant, “You could have called it off. There was still time.”
“No, there wasn’t thanks to you.” Peter shouted at him, “You’re too emotional and inexperienced for battle. You might as well have killed them with your own hands. If you’d stuck to the plan, those soldiers would still be alive right now.”
“And, if you’d just stayed here like I suggested, they definitely would be.” Caspian yelled back, like Peter hadn’t explained to him why they couldn't stay there.
“You called us, remember. You called us, because you couldn't handle it on you own.” Peter spat at him.
“My first mistake.” Caspian bit back.
“No, your first mistake was thinking you could lead these people.” Peter told him coldly, “You abandoned them in the middle of the fight when they needed you most, for a personal vendetta, great leadership.”
“Hey! You abandoned Narina first, in case you have forgotten.” Caspian yelled back, the words cutting through Peter like a knife.
“You think I abandoned my home? Think I left my life behind on purpose?” Peters stare was ice, “I was forced out. Stuck. Back into the body of child. Left in a world that wasn’t my own anymore, tossed to the side, like my people here, who got invaded by your people, in case YOU have forgotten. You have no more right to it than Miraz does. You, him, your father. Narnia is better off without the lot of you.”
Caspian had no response to that and just yelled as he drew his blade. Peter didn’t mind, he was mostly back in shape and he would love to beat the others face in, no matter how much it would hurt. He had seen his love bleeding on the battlefield before, he could bear it.
They were stopped by Edmund, before anything could really happened and when Trumpkin was healed, Peter stormed off. He needed to be alone right now.
He had been planning to yell at Aslans mural when he saw Caspian, hand outstretched to the White Witch as she beckoned him close. His eyes grew wide as a hand squeezed his heart tighter. He ran towards Caspian, Edmund and Trumpkin on his heels, and yelled: “Stop.”
There was a fight, but he heard the White Witch call Caspian and he couldn't let it happen, not again, not her.
He pushed Caspian away, another person echoing through his mind, as he yelled at her: “Get away from him.”
But then he was stood in front on her and she gave him such a pitying look as she said: “Peter, dear, I have missed you. Come on, just a drop. You know you can’t do it alone.”
Peter tried to fight her and although he wasn’t moving away, he also wasn’t giving in. She reached for him and whispered: “I can get him back for you. Darian was such a darling.”
A shock went through his body as a bit more fight drained out of him and he hesitated before lowering his sword. He wanted to give in so badly, to be able to return to the arms of his lover, have him by his side again, smiling and making him laugh with a stupid joke.
Then the wall shattered and the White Witch disappeared, leaving only Edmund standing there, looking as kingly as Peter remembered him to be.
If it had been anyone but Edmund he would have gotten mad, now he just looked defeated as his little brother told him: “I know. You had it sorted.”
Edmund left and now it was just Caspian and Peter along with the remnants of the ice where the White Witch had stood. Caspian sagged to the ground and buried his head in his head as he took a few shaky breaths.
He looked so unlike Darian, whom he had only known as self assured and happy, and after that Peter could hardly blame him for almost giving in. So, he sat down next to him and looked at the carving of Aslan with him.
“She offered me my uncles head on a platter.” Caspian softly confessed after a few minutes of silence, “It seemed so easy, just shake her hand this would all be over.”
“I know how that feels, Edmund knows it too. Happens to the best of us.” Peter comforted him.
“Edmund?” Caspian asked.
“Not my tale to tell.” Peter answered.
“Oh.” it was quiet for a few seconds, then Caspian asked: “What did she offer you?”
For a moment Peter considered not telling him, but the prince had told him and he needed his trust if their last stance against Miraz was going to be a success. So he said: “She offered me help, for all this. And,” he hesitated, “and a chance to see my husband again.”
“Your husband?” Caspian exclaimed surprised.
“I know we don’t look it, but when we left Narnia I was thirty. Lucy was already twenty-seven, if you can believe that.” he told him, “When we returned to our world we were the same age as when we entered. It has just been a few years for us there, not centuries.”
“That explains some things, I am sorry.” Caspian said, “I did not know you had been married.”
“No need to apologize. It seems like no one remembers him.” Peter said sadly, then he sighed: “I just wish to know what happened to him.”
It was silent again, then Caspian asked: “What was his name. What was he like?”
That was the first time someone had asked him that. All his siblings had known Darian and no one back in their world knew of him, nor anyone here.
A bit of happiness floated up in his chest that he could talk to someone about him, without getting a pitying look.
“His name was Darian,” Peter smiled softly, “He was amazing. He was kind and funny and good with a sword, beat me the first time we met at a tournament. We were married for three years before I disappeared. He looked a lot like you actually, but different accent. Perhaps I put some of my grief about him on you, for that I apologize.”
Caspian thought over his words, before he replied: “He sounds like a lovely person. I can understand how being thorn from your word and pushed back with healing scars and no explanation can leave one irritated. I do not hold it against you.”
“And for that I thank you.” Peter told him.
“No need to thank me.” Caspian said, “This might not be anything, but all I have learned about Narnia came from professor Cornelius, I can ask him if he know something about what happened to your husband.”
“If you did so, I would forever be in your debt.” Peter smiled.
“Like I can ever repay you for helping me, High King Peter.” Caspian replied.
“Call me, Peter.” Peter told him, “It looks like you’re going to be my equal if we make it out, might as well start acting like it.”
“Alright then, Peter.” Caspian said, smiling as well.
They leaned back against the table and Caspian asked: “Can you tell me more about back then? About the Golden Age? I hear so much, but know so little. I wish to know more about this land if I am to rule it one day.”
“It will be my pleasure.” Peter told him as he started telling Caspian about the rebuilding of their home, the wars, the feasts, the treaties and the small moments of peace.
Late at night after many tales from back then, Caspian thanked him once more, before he retreated for the night. Peter stayed there in front of Aslan as he wondered if he would ever return to them and if he could do what the White Witch had promised.
He was still sitting there the next day when Lucy sat down next to him and looked up at Aslan as well.
“You’re lucky, you know that.” Peter broke the silence.
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“To have seen him. I wish he’d just give me some kind of proof.” Peter sighed, “All I have is a too small army and no clue how Darian died.”
Tears sprung in his eyes and Lucy threw one arm over his shoulders as she said: “Maybe we’re the ones who need to prove ourselves to him.”
He looked at her and could see the smart woman she had been, who had kept hope in the hearts of their men and themselves. Lucy always had the most faith, if she still believed it would be alright, it had to be.
Maybe he couldn't believe in Aslan right now, but he could believe in Lucy.
Before he could reply to her, however, Edmund stormed in. He looked tense as he said: “Pete, you better come quickly.”
Then he hurried away again as Peter and Lucy rushed after him. Outside the Telmarine troops marched. The waiting time was over, they needed a plan and quick.
Luckily, the faith he had placed in Lucy wasn’t for nothing and she had a plan. Now they just needed to hold Miraz off for as long as they could.
“Cakes and kettledrums! That’s your next big plan? Sending a little girl into the darkest parts of the forest alone?” Trumpkin wasn’t happy with Lucys plan it seemed.
“You forget she is Queen Lucy the Valiant, my friend.” Peter said, “It’s our only hope and I trust her to come through.”
“And she won’t be alone.” Susan added.
“Haven’t enough died already.” Trumpkin was certain this plan was doomed.
At least the badger, Trufflehunter, was there to calm him: “Nikabrik was my friend too, but he lost hope. Queen Lucy hasn’t and neither have I.”
He seemed to have the right idea Peter thought approvingly. Reepicheep chanted: “For Aslan.”
And a bear echoed, with that settled Peter turned to the next point, keeping Miraz troops away from the forest. Behind him he heard Trumpkin say: “I’m coming with you.”
“No, we need you here.” Lucy told him, she knew war well enough to know each and every soldier counted.
“We need to hold them off until Lucy and Susan get back.” he said, looking over the map and calculating their numbers, knowing they didn’t have enough.
“If I may?” Caspian stepped forwards.
Peter would have shut him down by now before, but he knew Caspian was trying to win, trying to be a leader worthy of Narnia. And he had the same pleading eyes Darian had had, which he never had been able to refuse.
So he allowed him to speak.
“Miraz might be a tyrant and a murderer, but as King, he is subject to the traditions and expectations of his people. There is one particular thing that may buy us some time.” Caspian said as he began to explain his plan.
Grinning Peter told Edmund to start writing a duel challenge, his brother had a way with words, so he only gave the order: “Make it sting.”
Edmund grinned in return and before Peter knew it they were anxiously awaiting his little brothers return. Beside him Caspian asked: “Is he going to be alright?”
Peter glanced over and saw genuine concern. He smiled and assured Caspian: “Ed is always alright in these sort of things. I once witnessed him insult the entire royal house of the Lonely Islands, before he convinced them to surrender to us, without them even noticing.”
“Really?” Caspian asked with big eyes.
“Jup, really.” Peter confirmed with a proud grin.
In the How behind them Trumpkin was making sure Lucy and Susan would be on their way safely, before joining Peter and Caspian just in time for Edmunds return.
Peter got ready for his fight, knowing that Glenstorm was keeping an eye on the forest to make sure his sisters would be safe. He knew they were deadly on their own, but the big brother instinct stopped him from leaving them unguarded.
In front of him Miraz said: “There is still time to surrender.”
“Well, feel free.” Peter had won enough fights not to be intimidated by a man with a metal beard on his helmet.
“How many more must die for the throne?” Miraz asked him, trying to get a rise out of him.
Peter couldn't help but roll his eyes as he replied: “Just one.”
Then the fight started for real, swords swinging through the air as they clashed. He and Miraz were dancing around each other, looking for any weak spots. Muscle memory took over for the most part, but his body wasn’t the same as the last time he’d been here.
He made a wrong step and was on his back, tripping over Miraz feet. He kept rolling to break his fall, but Miraz stepped on his shield and his arm twisted, making him cry out in pain.
Trying to get away, he kept on blocking, but it wasn’t looking good. It was a stroke of luck he managed to trip up Miraz as well.
Both got up quickly and he saw Glenstorm riding with Susan on his back. Caspain gave him a short nod, before rushing towards them, giving him a thumbs up, but Peters attention was already back on Miraz, who asked: “Does his highness need a respite?”
“Five minutes.” he needed to know what happened to Lucy.
“Three.” Miraz said and Peter was willing to take that.
They limped back to their respective sides and slumped in their seats. With fear in his eyes he asked: “Lucy?”
“She got through, with a little help.” Susan told him, nodding to Glenstorm.
“Thank you.”
Glenstorm bowed his head: “It was my honor and duty, but your sister oversells it, they did not need much help.”
Peter turned back to Susan and nodded to the How: “Better get up there, just in case. I don’t expect the Telmarines will keep their word.”
Susan quickly hugged him, making him wince in pain. She let go if burned and softly apologized, he waved it away and assured her he was alright.
“Take care.” she told him.
“Keep smiling.” Edmund said next to him, signaling to him that he was being watched and shouldn’t show weakness.
“I think it’s dislocated.” he told Edmund, then he a sudden thought came up in him “What do you think happens back home if you die here? Would I go to the same afterlife as- …You know, you’ve always been there, after Darian. I never really-”
His thank you and maybe farewell speech was cut off by Edmund, who relocated his shoulder and sternly said: “Save it for later.”
It wasn’t the first time they gave each others words that might become their last, but Edmund knew Peter could survive this and he wasn’t about to listen while the other talked himself into a spiral that could effect his performance.
And with that the fight started again. It was harsh and it hurt, but Peter was managing this time around. He had been able to study how his opponent fought and was ready with some new strategies to try.
He practically had Miraz when the man yelled: “Respite! Respite!”
“Now is not the time for chivalry, Pete.” Edmund shouted from behind and Peter knew this. Still, he hesitated. He was High King Peter the Magnificent, it would be wrong to kill a man unarmed, he had won.
Edmund might be Just, but he could be a cold blooded judge and had always fared better in backroom backstabbing than duels, which said a lot seeing that he was already an amazing duelist.
Peter lowered his sword and walked away. The moment his back was turned Edmund began to shout: “Look out!”
He dodged just in time and cursed himself, how many times did he have to learn to listen to Edmund before that lesson stuck? His little brother had proved himself to be wise beyond Peter many times and still he forgot.
But, Miraz was weakened and Peter was not intending to stop right now. With a few blows he had the self-proclaimed King on his knees before him.
“What’s the matter boy? Too cowardly to take a life?” he asked tauntingly, not realizing that the boy in front of him was way more than he seemed.
Looking back Peter was every inch the High King he claimed to be as he said: “I am not cowardly and I have taken many lives on many different battlefields. I just know when a life is not mine to take.”
He offered Caspian the sword, who took it with determination. He had earned this kill, if he wanted it, it was his for the taking. He raised the sword slowly as his uncle told him: “Perhaps I was wrong. It seems you have the making of a good Telmarine King after all.”
Caspian screamed and plunged the sword into the soil. There was fury in his eyes as he said: “Not one like you. Keep your life, but I am giving the Narnians back their kingdom.”
As he walked back to them everyone cheered, but Peter and Edmund exchange looks. They had just seen how treacherous a Telmarine could be with your backed turned to them and they did not trust them to keep theirs turned.
Soon they were proven right as Miraz died at the hands of one of his own men and the troops were called to arms anyway.
Peter quickly found Caspians eyes and the prince nodded at him self assured, before he rode back into the How, while Peters heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t seen Darians eyes this time, but still there was that reaction as he started to count.
The fight was brutal and Peter was keeping a strong face because he had to, because he couldn't fail once more. He couldn't disappoint Lucy or Caspian or Edmund or Susan or any of the men under his care, he needed to keep them safe for Aslans sake.
With no Lucy in sight, however, there was no other choice. He called out: “Back to the How,” he wouldn't make the same mistake twice, they were retreating. Now.
But their escape was cut off as the How collapsed and there was no other choice than turn back to face the Telmarines once more. With Edmund by his side and Caspian on the other of the battlefield they charged again.
Then the battlefield was filled with trees and Peter smiled to himself, not all hope was lost. He rushed over to where he had seen Caspian last and pulled him up with a grin that was returned. Looking back to the fight he shouted: “For Aslan!”
And they charged again, making the Telmarines retreat back to the river, where they were intercepted by what could only be Aslan and Lucy.
With the Telmarines dealt with, the three of them and Caspian knelt before Aslan as they waited for him to speak: “Rise, Kings and Queens of Narnia.”
Everyone except Caspian rose, surprising Peter, but also making a wave of pride surge through him when Caspian responded to Aslan with: “I do no think I am ready.”
And he could not agree more with the Lion as he said: “It’s for that very reason that I know you are.”
After that they got interrupted by Reepicheep and his friends, while Peter threw an arm around Caspians shoulders and smiled at him, getting one in return, before he let go.
Then the four of them were busy helping Caspian set up and make everything go more smoothly. He at least had the luck that there was already a system in place that he could mold to fit the current situation instead of having to start anew, but it was still a lot of work.
Peter and Caspian were almost constantly together and Peter had grown very fond of the pri- uhm, King.
With very fond, he meant he had fallen for him and he had fallen hard, but he did not want to burden the young man with it, for it felt he was projecting Darian onto him, which would be unfair to him.
Still that did not stop his eyes from lingering and his lips from smiling as he found himself seeking out Caspians company more often. Finding he had a bigger sense of humor than the dire situation they had met in, had allowed.
He still missed Darian so much, but it felt like the salt was removed from the wound and he could start to heal now. He had asked Aslan about him, but the Lion had only responded: “He died peacefully in bed, trying to care for Narnia the best he could.”
“Can you bring him back?” he had asked as well.
“Maybe if you look he is already here.” Aslan had said mysteriously, “All will be revealed later, do not worry, Peter.”
And with that he had left Peter to his own.
Now he and Susan were walking through the courtyard and she commented lightly: “So you and Caspian have grown close.”
He blushed and replied: “I have become quite fond of him, I must confess. But I fear I might only see him as replacement and I cannot do that to him, he deserves better.”
“You really have a magnificent heart.” she teased him, but there was truth in her statement.
“And you are too gentle, Su.” he told her.
Before she could say something else, they were interrupted by Caspian, who called out: “We are ready. Everyone has assembled.”
They hurried to the tree where Caspian addressed his people: “Narnia belongs to the Narnians just as it does to man. Any Telmarines who want to stay and live in peace are welcome to. And for any of you who wish, Aslan will return you to the home of our forefathers.”
One of the Lords called out: “It has been generations since we left Telmar.”
“We are not referring to Telmar.” Aslan took over, “Your ancestors were sea-faring brigands, pirates run aground on an island. There they found a cave, a rare chasm that brought them here from their world, the same world as our Kings and Queens. It is to that island I can return you. It is a good place for any who wish to make a new start.”
It was quiet for a moment, then Gozelle stated: “I’ll go. I will accept the offer.”
Next to him Prunaprisma stepped forwards as well with her child and said: “So will we.”
“Because you have spoken first, your future in that world will be good.” Aslan told them as the tree unwrapped into a portal through which they disappeared.
“How do we know he is not leading us to our deaths?” someone from the crowd called out.
“Sire, if my example can be of any service, I will take eleven mice through with no delay.” Reepicheep said with a bow to Aslan.
“I can go.” Peter offered.
He got looks from his siblings and Lucy frowned: “Why Peter? You love it here, this is your home, do you want to leave? Go back to where they hate you for nothing?”
Peter gave her a sad look: “I do love it here and I do not want to go, but these people need to be assured and I leave this place in good hands. Beside, there is a lot of hurt for me here too, I do not even know where my husband is buried, Lu.”
“So you have not figured it out yet.” Aslan asked.
“I tried, Aslan, I did. I searched high and low, but there is no headstone here.” Peter told him.
“What is he talking about, Peter?” Susan asked.
“He told me Darian is already here, but I cannot find him and the search is hurting. I want to believe, but I do not wish to chase false fantasies and keep opening up a wound that should be healing.” Peter explained.
“My dear boy.” Aslan said, “In my land people can choose to stay there if they wish or be reborn to find their true love again.”
Peters eyes grew wide as the meaning of what had just been revealed to him sunk in. It was no miracle he had been brought back now, that the person he met with a duel wore the face of his lover and reminded him so terribly of Darian.
He turned to Caspian is shock, who wore the same expression on his face as he too, realized what had just been said.
“Is that really true?” Caspian asked Aslan, “Was I Darian in a former life?”
Aslan nodded and Peter started crying. Unsure of what to do Caspian approached and softly said: “If you cannot love me back that is okay and I shall let you return to the world you came from without protest.”
“Love you back?” Peter asked, hope building up in his chest.
Caspian blushed and it was even prettier than he remembered as he admitted: “Well, I never claimed I make the best decisions when it comes to love.”
He could not know how achingly similar it was to the last time he had confessed and more tears flowed out of Peters eyes as he embraced Caspian. He quietly asked: “Would it be alright if I kissed you?”
Nodding Caspian pulled back and allowed Peter to bring their lips together as they kissed softly, a thousand words hidden in a kiss.
When they pulled back people cheered and Peter saw his siblings smile at him. Both of them blushed scarlet, but could stop the big grins from taking over their features as they stuck close together, hands fitting perfectly in one another.
Aslan turned to the crowd and said: “I myself shall walk through the portal. After I am through, it shall remain open for a day, then it shall close forever. Think wisely of whether you go and what you bring with you.”
Then he turned to the siblings and said: “I was truly an honor to have met you. You shall help the new King greatly. Till we meet again.”
Lucy embraced him in a big hug, tears falling down her face as she clutched his manes tightly and said: “Thank you, Aslan. Goodbye.”
The others also said goodbye to the Lion, before he roared to his people and walked through the portal without looking back. He was not needed for now, he had left his kingdom in the right hands and he could only look forward to a better future.
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