#but Seas and this guy became close because he was very gentle with Seas and did not push him like many other ancients did

[thesisrainworldblog]

oh yeah that last post with seas this is the guy hes sad about i havent named him because he wasnt important

anyways imma ramble about him in the tags after the other stuff

[lovelettersfromluna]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓★ Seven Wonders ‧͙⁺˚*･༓★

{Ellie Williams x Reader}

Summary: They say to beware of the woman who sings within the seven seas…but what if Ellie just can’t help herself?

an: okay, so this request was so good I literally couldn’t even respond to the ask, I just had to jump on and start writing it. So! This is for the sweet anon who asked for a mermaid/siren!reader x Ellie fic! Ellie is a sweet little sailor in this one because I said so. I took inspo from the little mermaid and aquamarine! Thank you again to the anon for this request!! I hope you enjoy baby 🖤 (not proofread apologies for an errors)

Warnings: 18+!! Smut!! Angst! Reader grows legs when she’s on land, oral (ellie and r!receiving), lots of kissing, spanking, reader is a mermaid/siren, sailor!ellie, mentions of drowning, sad towards the end im sorryyyy. Let me know if I missed anything pleaseee.

Ellie's favorite place was the water.

Ever since she had been a little girl, she would follow her father onto the docks as he loaded up his boat, and there wasn't a trip that he made that she wasn't going on when she turned old enough to join him. Her father even called her his little fish for quite a while, until the nickname made her groan in annoyance.

She loved it so much, that she followed in her fathers footsteps the second she got her first job. Sure, taking the fish that the guys pulled in from the docks to the local markets wasn't the best job, but she was officially in line to become a great sailor herself.

And that was exactly what she did. She worked her way up all the way until she had her very own boat, and she was her very own boss.

Ellie's father was a sailor, his father was a sailor, and his father's father was a sailor. She practically had salt water running through her veins.

She enjoyed the calmer months, when there weren't many fish to catch and she was able to spend the entire day on her boat, drifting along in the warm waters until it became too dark and she had no choice but to haul ass back to the docks.

And that's exactly how she found herself here, her boat slowly bobbing from side to side along with the calm waves of the ocean, the shore miles away from her, the closest human being too far away to bother Ellie for any favors or to borrow her precious boat. She was resting on the bow, her hands resting underneath her head as she hummed a gentle tune to herself, drifting in an out of a light sleep.

But then Ellie realized, she wasn't humming...that noise wasn't coming from her.

She frowned as she sat up, the warm sun slowly setting, making the world grow darker and darker around her. She blinked her eyes a few times, adjusting to the sudden change in brightness. For a moment, she almost thought she had drifted back to shore, the sound of a woman humming so clear she'd swear there was someone on the boat with her.

But Ellie was so far from the shore, she could barely even see it.

She sighed, figuring that it was merely her mind playing tricks on her. She brought her wrist up to check the time, settling on staying out on her boat for an hour or two more before she had to go back in. She laid back once more, resting her head against one of the pillows she had and closing her eyes.

And then she heard it again.

This time, it was closer, clearer, and Ellie knew she wasn't losing her mind this time. She heard it, clear as day, the soft melody of a woman humming, followed by a soft giggle.

And Ellie was sure it was the sweetest melody she had ever heard.

As if in a trance, Ellie was standing up from her spot on the bow, and moving to stand near the railing of her boat, searching the dark waters for what it was that she heard. Had someone been swimming? She didn't recall hearing any splashing from the shore, perhaps they were coming from a nearby boat? Only, Ellie was the only one out on the water this late in the day.

She continued to scan the waters with her eyes, searching for any clues to what it could have been that she heard. Suddenly, a flash of silver rippled through the water.

Her eyes widened when she saw it, and she felt her boat wobble a bit, paired with the sound of something hitting it from underneath, and she heard the giggling from the other side.

Ellie rushed towards it to see what it was, only to see another flash of silver thrash through the waves a bit more harshly this times. She quickly reached into her bag, grabbing her flashlight and shining it into the water.

"Hello? Is..is someone out there? I..I can help you! Do you need a raft??" She called out, but here was no answer. The only thing she was able to hear were the waves crashing against themselves.

Ellie frowned as she looked around, realizing that it had only grown darker and darker with each passing second that she was out on the water. She gave the open waters one last look before she decided it was time to pack up and get back to the shore.

͙⁺˚*･༓★

That night, the only thing Ellie dreamt about was that song.

The melody played in her head over and over again, making her toss and turn in her bed. She could see the ocean, dark and grey as the clouds above her swirled, thunder and lightning casting over her as the wind blew on her face. She stood at the shore, her eyes searching for the melody that grew louder and louder the longer she was there.

She began calling out, for help, for the person to show themselves, for anything…

And suddenly, the voice that had been plaguing her mind had a face to match with it.

Emerging from the ocean was the most beautiful woman Ellie had ever seen, her body dripping with water, the droplets on her body sparkling like diamonds. As she slowly walked towards Ellie, the beautiful song continued, and Ellie felt like she couldn’t move. Because suddenly, the beautiful woman had her naked body pressed up against Ellie’s, her arms wrapping around her neck before she was pressing a cold, wet kiss to Ellie’s lips.

Ellie woke up in a panic, gasping for air as she sat up in her bed, her hands gripping her chest and her loose t shirt, trying to find something that could help her ground herself, help her remember where it was that she was.

When she calmed down a bit, she looked over at her window, the harsh sound of hard rain rapping on her window like pellets of metal. She frowned further, because the clouds in the sky looked identical to the ones in her dream.

She sighed softly, her hands rubbing over her face. It wasn’t until she tried getting up from her bed that she realized her pussy was soaking wet.

͙⁺˚*･༓★

The following day, Ellie was determined to find answers.

She was rummaging through her grand fathers old chest, the one her father had insisted she take in with her when she moved into her current house. She almost refused it, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything but clutter her space and create more of a mess, however her grand father had quite the collection of books on anything she could think of when it came to being a sailor. From how to train yourself for diving, to the mystical creatures that plagued the waters.

Ellie was really fucking glad her dad made her keep the chest.

She was sat on her couch, a large stack of books surrounding her as she flipped through quickly, her eyes scanning for specific words that could help her.

Giant squid, kraken, serpents…

Siren

The word made Ellie freeze, her eyes scanning over it multiple times. She could practically feel the chill running up her spine. Her fingers delicately traced over the word, her lips parting gently before she uttered. “Siren…” softly.

And as soon as she said it, a loud crack of thunder practically shook through her entire house, making her flinch.

She swallowed nervously before she brought her attention back to the book, eyes scanning over the description of the sea creature.

When Ellie was a kid, she remembered sitting on the floor of her grandparents house on days much like the one she was experiencing today. Dark and stormy, the waters too rough to go out on and explore. She had no choice but to get in her comfiest pajamas and let her grand father bring the stories of the sea to her.

He would tell her everything, and at the time Ellie wasn’t totally sure which were stories he’d experienced himself, or if they were fairytales passed on throughout generations of her family. As she grew older, she has just written them all off as just that, stories passed down for the enjoyment of the children that were around.

But as she sat in her living room, staring down at the description of a siren, she couldn’t help but recall the story of the beautiful sea women that her grand father told her about.

He told her they’d first come to you in the ocean, never revealing themselves to you until they were ready. It would be followed by vivid dreams of these beautiful women, using their powers to keep you connected to them long enough until they could come to you once again in the real world.

And finally…they would lure you into the ocean, and you’d become another one of their prey.

Ellie’s grand father warned her and her cousins to never fall prey to these women. To cover their ears and close their eyes if they ever heard mysterious humming. Of course, Ellie never believed in any of that stuff. Her grand father was simply trying to scare them enough into never going out on the waters alone or staying out too late.

However, her she was, a fully grown woman, going against the wishes of her grandfather. She was packing up her bags and willingly walking out into the storm.

The storm that you had caused.

͙⁺˚*･༓★

Ellie had never seen a storm as bad as this one.

Not a single soul was outside, let alone out on the docks. The boats lined up were rocking back and forth, and Ellie had to put her hand up to her face to shield it from the harsh wind and rain that was hitting her body, making it hard to walk forward. It was almost like it was pushing her back towards her house, begging her to go back home.

But she couldn’t, all she could think about was that song, and that face. She couldn’t let it go.

She finally made it out to her boat, cursing under her breath as she struggled to bring her rope and anchor. Once she did, she was moving inside her boat, starting up the engine and driving out of the dockside onto the water.

And as soon as she was, the waves were crashing against her boat. Ellie was quite the experienced sailor, having made her way through several storms. However, she had never made her way through anything like this. The sky almost looked like it was caving in on itself, but Ellie couldn’t even come to her senses to care, the only think playing over in her mind was the beautiful face she saw and the sweet melody she heard.

She kept going, her boat making its way out further and further into the water, her eyes searching for any trace of silver that she had saw the night before. She frowned, pushing the lever on her boat and forcing it to go faster.

Her boat climbed over the waves like they were mountains, forcing it to crash down every time she toppled over one. Ellie could hear multiple things inside of her boat falling, even a few things breaking, but she couldn’t stop.

Especially not when she saw that familiar glimmer of silver in the sea again.

When she saw it, she was laughing like a woman gone mad, and she was pushing her lever higher to go faster regardless of the fact that it was already at the highest setting. She was on a high speed chase now, trying to follow the rippling figure she saw speeding ahead of her.

She almost lost her mind when the creature jumped out of the water, large sparkling tale on full display for her before it dove down.

A particularly sharp turn from her boat to follow it was her first mistake, because going against the harsh waters so abruptly almost made her boat tip over, but she didn’t seem to notice, because she continued with her erratic movements. She continued driving her boat at full speed to follow the figure.

It wasn’t until her view was blocked by a large wave, swallowing up her boat completely and submerging her underwater that her intense gaze on the creature finally broke.

“Oh fuck!” She screamed out before she was completely consumed by the cold, harsh, salty waters around her.

She tried to swim, to keep herself alive long enough that she could make it onto shore. But she was too far, and she knew that. She could feel herself slipping as she thrashed about in the cold waters.

Her eyes grew heavy, and her lungs grew tired, and the last thing she felt before she passed out were arms wrapping around her waist, and the beautiful face she had seen in her dreams looking down at her.

͙⁺˚*･༓★

You knew you shouldn’t have done it. You knew you should have left her alone. You could have just gone for any other fisherman along the coast, one that was harassing the poor orcas or polluting the water with their big stupid boats.

You could have gone for someone who deserved it…but you just couldn’t stay away from her.

The pretty sailor had caught your eye from you were but a small mermaid. Watching her with her father, learning how to sail and how to tell the fish apart. He taught her to appreciate the ocean with so much care and love, it brought you to tears multiple times.

It’s why you stayed within these specific waters for so long, to stay close to her. You learned early on that her name was Ellie, and that she loved the water just as much as you did. You both grew together, watching as the girl turned into a beautiful woman right before your very eyes.

Before you knew it, it was your time to begin hunting. Hunting for unsuspecting sailors and fisherman on the docks, using your powers to lure them into your underwater home and ravage them, forcing them to stay with you forever.

But you couldn’t, not when Ellie was so pretty to look at.

You had gone on quite some time without interacting with her at all, knowing just what your song would do to her. As much as you wanted her, wanted her attention, you didn’t dare use it on her in fear of what it would do to her.

But one day…you just couldn’t ignore your urges any longer.

You just…wanted to play with her, only for a little bit. You knew your Ellie was strong, you knew your song wouldn’t do much to her. You knew she’d be able to fight it. You just needed to see those green eyes staring into your own, looking for you, searching for you, wanting you.

Oh how you regretted it now.

Because the ocean was rough, and you could see the girl making her way into her boat and rushing through the rough waters to make her way to you.

She was putting herself in harms way because of you.

You knew she wouldn’t stop, not unless something made her stop. So, you lured her out to the sea, as far as she had to go until the waves would gobble her up and force her unconscious, giving you enough time to dive into her boat and save her, and pull her onto shore to a spot where someone would find her once the storm passed.

And that you did, you pulled her onto shore, grabbing her face and making sure she had enough air in her lungs to keep her alive until it was over.

Before you could leave her though, you couldn’t stop yourself from staring, only for a little bit. Your fingers delicately traced her face, smiling softly as they traced along her pretty lips. You’d never seen her this close, you had never been able to touch her like this, and you knew this was your only chance.

So you leaned in, pressing the most gentle kiss to her lips before pulling back..

What you didn’t expect, where for her hazy green eyes to be lazily blinking at you, still out of it, but there.

It shocked you a bit, but you simply pressed your hand against her eyes to close them before she could see you any further. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her ear before you whispered.

“You’ll be home soon…I’m sorry Ellie…” you mumbled, and with that, you made your way back into the ocean, leaving her on the shore.

͙⁺˚*･༓★

When the storm passed, the people of Ellie’s town slowly emerged from their homes. It didn’t take long for someone to catch sight of her body washed up on the shore. They were quick to take her in, bringing her back to her home after a doctor made sure she was okay, cleaning her up and getting her into bed.

She was extremely out of it, only mumbling a few words to the people that brought her in.

She was exhausted, and her mind was filled with this overwhelming fog that she couldn’t sense. Like she had experienced something that she couldn’t remember, something that she was waiting for had happened, but she couldn’t fucking remember it.

She couldn’t get out of bed, the girl far too tired to get up and go out on the water. She hoped that getting more sleep would help her remember what the fuck had happened after she drowned, how the fuck she had ended up on the shore…

She huffed softly as she tossed in her bed, when suddenly she heard something rummage in her house.

She frowned, sitting up a bit as she looked towards her door, staring for a moment to see if she heard something else. But she didn’t, and she figured something bad just fallen over. She groaned, rolling over and tugging her sheets further over her body.

But then, she heard the knob to her bedroom door jiggle.

And then open.

And when Ellie sat up once more to look towards her door as it opened. She felt like she was dreaming again, because there she was. The sea woman from her dreams was walking into her room, fully naked, dripping from head to toe with water. Only this time, her face had an expression of worry instead of one of mischief.

You were there, standing in her doorway. You were the woman Ellie was dreaming of. You were the woman that Ellie was chasing in the ocean…

You were the woman that she saw when she drowned, and you were the woman that had pulled her onto shore and kissed her when she had barely enough air in her lungs to survive.

You saved her. You saved Ellie’s life.

Ellie stared at you for a long time, and for a moment you realized that this was a bad idea. You realized that you had shaken Ellie up far too much within the passed few days. You belonged in the water, and she belonged on land and you had no right to mess that up.

Ellie almost died because of you, and now you were at her house and you didn’t know why because you were only fucking her life up further.

You were turning around to leave, but Ellie was already up on her feet, towering over you as her large hands grabbed your wrist without another thought.

“You…it’s you. You’re real…you’re fucking real” she mumbles almost mindlessly. You open your mouth to say something, to explain to her what happened and why she did what she did.

But before you can even do that, her lips are on yours.

Because all Ellie can think about now, is how good your lips felt pressed up against hers in her dream, and she wants more of it. Her strong hands grip your naked hips, pulling your wet body so it’s pressed up against her own, and she groans at the feeling of your hardened nipples pressing into her t shirt.

You moan softly, and Ellie is over the moon because not only is your voice just as sweet as it was when you were singing for her, but it’s even sweeter when you’re moaning for her.

And she’s all you’ve ever wanted. From the moment you set eyes on her when you were both children, you knew she was the one for you.

Ellie moans into your mouth, and you’re gently pressing your hands against her chest to push her back towards her bed. The back of her knees hit her bed, forcing her to sit down. She spreads her legs a bit, just enough for you to stand between as you continue kissing her passionately, your hands lacing through her hair and keeping her close to you.

Her hands roam your body, feeling and squeezing your soft skin. She brings them to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze before she forces you to straddle her lap. You moan softly, pushing her back to lay down as your body lays on top of hers.

“I’ve wanted you for so long Ellie…” you sigh out, and Ellie doesn’t for a moment wonder how you even know her name, because she’s too caught up with how good you feel against her. It’s like you’re the only thing she’s ever wanted, and she had no idea that she did.

You’re kissing down her body, soft lips pressing against her neck and her chest, pushing to her t shirt so you can kiss her rib cage. You hum once you settle between her legs, tugging at her boxers and leaving her bottom half naked, and Ellie is sure she’s died at this point, because you start lapping at her soaked cunt and she feels like she’s going to cry.

Her bottom lip is tugged between her teeth, and your naked body as dried off from rolling around in her bed. Your soft hands are gripping her thighs and she has to prop herself up on her elbows to watch you, your lips wrapping around her clit and sucking harshly, your skilled tongue eating her up completely.

“Fuuuuck….such a good fuckin’ mouth you’ve got on you baby…that’s it…suck on my fuckin’ clit” she moans out, her voice rasping and dripping with lust. You whine against her, flicking your tongue faster against her clit as your hips desperately rut against her mattress, searching for some sort of friction that you desperately need.

Ellie’s head falls back, and you swear you’ve never seen something prettier. Her lips are red and swollen from all the biting, and her tattooed hand is laced between your hair as she keeps you close, practically grinding onto your face, her abs flexing as she grows closer and closer to her release.

“Fuck yeah…so fuckin pretty with your face between my legs baby…my pretty fuckin girl…fuck I’m gonna fucking cum…you’re gonna make me…ahh fuuuuck” she cries out, her words so filthy they make your cheeks burn red.

You can’t even focus on how vulgar shes being, or the fact that she’s claiming you as her own…as her girl. Because her pussy is weeping onto your tongue and you’re whining into her because you’re realizing that this all was really worth it.

Ellie breaths hard as she watches you between her legs, eyes zeroing in on you as you give her slow and lazy licks, cleaning her up and helping her ride out her orgasm.

Ellie groans, her strong hands reaching down and pulling you up with ease. She has you on her lap again, her lips kissing you slowly and passionately, tongue lapping against your own, keeping you close.

Shes warming you up so much, your insides burning in a way they never have as her tongue works against your own. She lays down, keeping your body pressed against hers. Just as you’re enjoying the kiss, your hips rutting against her own, she’s pushing your body up her own, causing you to frown in confusion.

She pushes you up so your legs are hovering over her mouth, your thighs on either side of her head, and you realize what it is that she’s doing.

Ellie flattens her tongue out onto her chin, gripping your hips and pulling you down so that your soaked core is pressed against her. The second she tastes you she’s groaning, and her strong hands are forcing you to grind down on her wet tongue.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you feel like you’ll explored the second her tongue is working against your pussy.

“Ellieeee….f-feels so good…mmm…h-ahhh! Don’t stop” you moan out for her, your back arching, head hanging back as you roll your hips, your pussy humping against her tongue.

A harsh spank lands on your ass, and Ellie is massaging the skin to soothe the burn her handprint leaves. You moan loudly at the feeling, your eyes opening and looking down. You nearly gasp because Ellie’s eyes sparkle like the ocean, they’re so green and bright and they’re staring up at you like her life depends on it.

And you know you won’t last long.

“Mmmm yeah…right there Ellie…right…there…oh!” You moan loudly, and it’s the last thing you say before your back is arching almost painfully, and you’re cumming all over her tongue.

Ellie moans with you, her own pussy throbbing as she stares up at you. Her hand is gripping your ass and your waist as she forces you to ride her face slow and hard, wanting you to feel every little flick of her tongue that she gives to your cunt.

You whine, and Ellie knows it’s too much. She sighs softly before she pulls you off of her face and back down to lay with her on the bed.

You both lay there in silence, Ellie’s hand tracing small shapes into your naked back as she pulls you close, the both of you tangled up underneath her soft blankets. They smell like sea breeze and pine, and you can’t help but smile as you cuddle into her.

Ellie isn’t sure what to make of the situation. Because the siren that she had been following for the last few days was in her bed, the two of you slowly drifting in and out of sleep as you lazily kiss one another, giggling and laughing together as if you’d know each other for your entire lives, and she doesn’t question it.

Because she feels like she has known you for her entire life. She feels like you’re the missing piece to her puzzle. And everything just feels right when you’re pressed up against her in her bed.

The day goes on that way. The two of you in bed enjoying each others company, and before Ellie even realizes it, the sky is growing darker, and she realizes she’s spent the entire day in bed with you.

Your eyes are closed, and your breathing has evened out and Ellie figures you’ve finally fallen asleep. It doesn’t surprise her since you two had gone many rounds after. She smirks softly to herself at the fact that she’s tired you out.

But she can’t help but frown, because she doesn’t know what any of this means.

She leans in gently, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Please stay…don’t go…” she mumbles, pulling away and eyeing you for a moment longer before she presses another kiss to your lips, pulling you closer and closing her eyes to fall asleep.

And you’re not asleep, once you realize she’s asleep you’re crying, because you know how this has to go, and despite Ellie knowing barely anything about you, she knows too.

The next morning, Ellie wakes up to an empty bed.

She frowns as she gets up, looking around her bedroom before she looks around her house, thinking you might be in her bathroom, or in her shower or her kitchen.

But you’re not, you’re nowhere to be found. And Ellie’s heart sinks.

She knew you’d be gone, she knew deep down that it was all too good to be true. She knew that this was a crazy, fucked up situation that she had almost no power in finding her way around, to keep you there with her, to keep the feeling that you gave her.

When she returns to her bedroom, she finds a note on her bedside table. Written on the front is her name, so neat and delicate she’s sure it must have taken hours for it to be written.

When she opens the letter, she can’t stop herself from frowning once again.

‘My Dearest Ellie.

Im sorry our time together was short, I do wish you and I were more similar. I wish we came from the same worlds, and perhaps we did in another life. One where we were the same and could be together.

I will cherish the times that we had together for the rest of my days, and I do hope you’ll never forget me.

I will always be close by, my dear Ellie. I always have been’

At the end of the note, your name was signed. And Ellie mumbled it so softly, it was as it it were a secret. She frowned softly as her eyes scanned over the note over and over again, and she looked into the envelope again, noticing that it wasn’t empty.

Inside, there was a small pearl necklace. The pearl was in the faint shape of a star, and her thumb traced over the delicate piece of jewelry before she sighed, looking out onto the clam waters, searching for any trace of you.

But she found nothing. You were gone, and you left a small piece of you with her to remind her that it was all real.

That you were real.

͙⁺˚*･༓★

Not a day went by where Ellie didn’t think about you.

Not on the days where she met her father for dinner, not on the days she went on dates with other girls, hell, she even thought about you on her fucking wedding day.

She has continued looking for you for some time, believing that you would one day return to her, and there was some way for you both to be together. But she never found you, she never saw the pretty ripples of silver thrashing through the water again.

She tried moving on. She found a wife, got married, they even had a kid together. A little boy who was Ellie’s clone. He loved the water so much, begged his mom to take him out on her boat early in the mornings before school and in the warm summer afternoons.

But it was all done with you in mind, the pretty siren that had stolen her heart and never returned to give it back. She kept you with her wherever she went, your pearl necklace resting against her collar bones from the day you had left it with her.

Ellie had truly lost hope that you’d never come back, hoping for simply a glimpse of you to remind her of the girl she loved dearly.

It wasn’t until one day that her small son came rushing into the house, tugging on Ellie’s flannel shirt as she washed the dishes, eager to bring her outside….

To see the pretty woman in the sea.

Ellie almost dropped the plates on the floor with how quickly she moved to go outside.

And as soon as she was there, she saw your pretty eyes peeking at her from behind one of the large rocks, giving her a sweet smile and a small wave.

And all she could was wave back, smiling happily as her eyes welled up with tears.

[a1lsunday]

👥 ( weatherw1tch, for perona & drucilla, robin & drucilla, iselda & law, zephyr & nami, rayleigh & shakky, luffy & shanks, ace & rouge, and/or anyone else <3 )

perona + drucilla

one way perona bonds with drucilla is grooming her; whether it’s braiding and combing drucilla’s hair (she loves her hair), or even washing her fur in her cat form, or even just combing through her fur and getting any pesky pests out that she’s picked up in her strolls. usually, she’s yapping away while she does so, but she appreciates that drucilla lets her without telling her she’s noisy or too much. she knows she can be too much (it’s a matter of not really caring), but she likes that drucilla really listens to her.

robin + drucilla

i like to think that robin and drucilla often just missed each other during their travels and in some way, it’s almost like fate that they meet given their shared history with ohara. robin had to hop around a lot since she was a child. it could be that they were in the same sea, the crews that robin’s joined have been in alliance or in battle with the siren pirates, and it could be that they were often after similar artifacts or within the same island looking for different things.

iselda + law

sometimes, when the navy was getting too close to tracking down the heart pirates before law became a warlord but had become one of the established rookies in the worst generation, iselda would falsify reports of where they'd been spotted. she couldn't do it every time because it would soon draw suspicion. but, she would throw them slightly off course or send in false reports to send the navy on a wild goose chase. she never tells him this because she feels he would hate the idea of her trying to protect him.

@weatherw1tch , meme.

zephyr + nami

when nami was a baby, zephyr would love to try to make her laugh, pulling funny faces and doing all sorts of antics just to hear her bubbly laughter. when they meet much later on, before nami sails off or when they're seeing each other off, he makes a silly face at her regardless if it makes her laugh or not.

rayleigh + shakky

i feel like in a modern au, rayleigh + shakky are those cute older couples that coordinate their outfits (same color scheme, details, fabric design, etc.). they're just in love with each other like that, and i could see rayleigh being a fashionable guy in a modern au. shakky elevates his outfits a lot more though or balances them out, and they have fun doing that together.

luffy + shanks

luffy is very much looking forward to fighting shanks. i think at the back of his mind, he knows it's going to be a serious battle. it's not really gonna be friendly, there will be bloodshed. but, he wants to show shanks how strong he's gotten and to not be underestimated anymore. of course, he was a child when he was asking to be on shanks' crew, but he wants to show him that he's capable of even surpassing him. i think out of every emperor, he believes shanks will be the strongest.

ace + rogue

in an au where rogue lives, i can see ace being protective of her, but also knowing that if anyone wrongs her, they're definitely the ones who should be scared because rogue can 100% handle herself. i think he tells scary stories of her just to freak people out, especially to luffy and sabo. while half of them may have some truth to it, ace embellishes a lot.

nami + sanji

whenever nami is feeling tense or has had a long day in the map room, sanji offers to give her a massage. his hands are strong from all the work he does in the kitchen, but precise as well and can be gentle when necessary. it's a little treat she looks forward to when she's had a particularly long day.

kaya + chopper

chopper and kaya stay up late together every now and then doing research and testing medicines. when kaya develops poisons, chopper helps create antidotes in case her materials were ever used against them / in case of emergencies. they have started a catalog together of all the medicines they've created.

[captainmartinisblog]

Captain Martini in the Mediterranean

Tuesday 29th August 2023 – Siracusa, Sicily – A Day of Surprises.

Departing Valletta, Malta at 11pm, Silver Nova began moving about quite a bit last night and while it came as no surprise to me, it seems to have taken everyone else by surprise. As strong winds outside the protection of Valletta harbour buffeted the ship quite noticeably, there wasn’t that much of a sea but it did knock a few things over in the night, including the plant pot in Angie’s cabin!

By 6.30am however, it was much calmer and we were approaching Siracusa, Sicily. However, surprise no.2 was that, rather than coming alongside, Silver Nova suddenly dropped anchor in the bay. The reason quickly became clear.

There was another ship in town and it was none other than the brand new (just out this month) ‘Norwegian Viva’, a 143,500 ton hideous monster with up to 3,250 passengers!

Surprise no.3 was that the deck maintenance guys were cleaning the pool with their robot vacuum cleaner this morning, so for once there was no swimming for me!

Today Angie and Andrew had booked one of the afternoon excursions, so they had a clear morning and went to leisurely breakfast in the restaurant. I had a light ‘en-suite breakfast’ instead because I had booked the ‘Stroll Ortigia Island and Harbour Cruise’ in the morning. I had been here quite recently on another cruise, so just wanted to have a gentle wander. Perhaps I should have just gone ashore independently, because as it turned out, the ship’s ‘stroll’ proved more arduous than expected.

Anyway, once ashore by tender, our guide took us through the historic centre of Siracusa situated on Ortigia Island.

The Temple of Apollo near the market dates from the 5th century bc and is the oldest in Sicily. Having been used and abused throughout the centuries, there’s not a lot left but what there is was unearthed in 1890.

The Diana (or Artemis) Fountain in Archimedes Square is the historic site of one of the city’s fresh water well sources. Constructed in 1906, it features the Goddess Diana (the Greek Goddess Artemis) along with Arethusa and Alpheus. Nearby, virtually on the sea-front and so full of papyrus you can hardly see it properly, is the Arethusa Fountain and (of course) there is a legend linking the two…..

The story goes that the chaste Nymph Arethusa was bathing naked in the river (as you do when you are a chaste nymph) when she became the subject of the unwanted amorous attentions of Alpheus. Running away, she sought the help of the Goddess Artemis (the Roman Goddess Diana) who turned her into a fountain – today the Arethusa Fountain. Some help she was, you might say! Well meanwhile, head God Zeus, being a man, took pity on Alpheus for falling in love with the beautiful young nymph, so he turned him into an underground river, so that their waters could merge at the sea. (Did you ever hear such a load of ancient rubbish?)

We also visited the beautiful Piazza Duomo with the Baroque frontage of the cathedral which still incorporates Doric columns from the original Greek Temple of Athena on this site. This is an incredible church, having been a temple, a mosque and a church, each time retaining elements of its previous users. It’s well worth a visit.

My tour was described as a ‘stroll’ but it was very slow and explored some of the narrowest alleys and streets of the Jewish ‘Guidecca’ quarter, with rather too much standing around for my poor old back!

Finally, we boarded a boat for a 45 minute harbour cruise (and a welcome sit-down) – which was provided some nice close-up views of Castello Maniace on the headland of Ortigia Island. It was built by our old friend Emperor Frederick II (remember the castle in Bari, beloved King of Sicily, Holy Roman Emperor etc). But there was no on-board commentary, no facilities and only a ‘pay bar’; there had been talk of opportunity to bathe in the sea but choppy waves in the harbour put paid to that idea, so it was all a bit down-beat and uninspiring. A shame really because Siracusa is oozing with history and it’s all so accessible.

Back aboard, I spent the afternoon chilling in my favourite sheltered spot on deck 10 forward until Andrew and Angie returned (early) to report that their excursion had also been a bit tedious, with a rather poor guide, and because the weather was also still very hot, they had given up on it. So they had missed seeing the Greek Theatre, the Roman Amphitheatre and the Famous ‘Ear of Dionysius’ which I saw last time I was here in October last year.

[roger-that-cap]

all the flowers will bloom

hades!natasha x persephone!reader

summary: you would have never tried to leave your mother if you knew that bringing that pomegranate tree back to life was your ticket to the underworld. or, maybe you would have, because it turned out that hades was quite the opposite of the evil goddess that you had been drilled to know.

warnings: my own take on greek mythology (apologies to greek people who may possibly see this), usage of both persephone and y/n, angry gods, this is a short series, angst and fluff!!

word count: 4.2k

this is part one!!

please guys i’m so excited for this one, already have so much written and planned!!

You were born from your mother thousands of years ago without so much as a whimper, and when you arrived after a particularly peaceful and short labor,, flowers bloomed for miles. You grew quickly, and you had gained the power of life within everything that grew. Your domain was everything that the light touched and below in the soil, and soon, you were the young goddess of nature and growth. If anyone wanted to find you, they could surely look at the trail of bright flowers that you left with every step of your feet.

The name you were born with was Persephone. But just as the humans wanted to make names for themselves, you wanted one of your own, too. One that was not overshadowed by your mother being Demeter, one of the twelve Olympian Gods, and the ever kind yet harsh Goddess of the Harvest. And so, you changed your name, like many of the others much older than you had done, and all but your mother and the nymphs that she charged to take care of you called you Y/N.

“Lady Persephone,” a soft voice called from behind you as you dipped your toes into your favorite pond, and you sighed when you looked over your shoulder even after recognizing the familiar voice. “Your mother wants you home soon.”

You knew that your mother did. She always wanted you home, away from the outside world- where you truly belonged. She didn’t want you anywhere that she couldn't walk twenty steps to get to you, despite you being two thousand years old. Your mother’s idea of a good day was when you stayed inside, and it wasn’t fair. When you could convince her to let go of your leash just a little, she sent nymphs to watch you, girls you weren’t even close to. They were so focused on not angering your mother that they hardly cared about what you thought. But deep down, you understood. Your mother’s hand was just as gentle as it was harsh, and like the harvest she watched over, she only gave you what you gave her to work with. If you produced her mind with the equivalent of dry soil and broken land, she would be unruly, fickle, quick to fall apart in frustration. If you watered her and gave her the amount of sunlight she needed, she would bless you. She had been that way since the dawn of her time.

“I don’t feel like returning, I’ve only just gotten here.” You weren’t looking at them, but you could practically feel the way that they were eyeing each other, getting more nervous with every passing second. You felt the bottom of the shallow part of the lake that you were in with your foot, and you smiled at the sound of silence, knowing that it would only last for a few minutes.

“Your mother will be quite angry if something happens to you, my lady.”

“Nothing is going to happen for that reason,” you sighed, and when you got a few moments of silence, you knew that they knew you were right.

You walked through life practically fearlessly. From birth, you were deeply connected to every animal . You had no reason to fear even the most vicious bear or boar, and you could not die from poisonous plants of any kind. No minor or major god who knew your mother would even dare come close to you with any ill intent, and humans never came where you liked to be. You were probably the safest god of them all, besides Zeus himself.

“Please don't make me return to that house so early,” you pleaded softly, making sure to not sound too whiny. “I need fresh air. I need to feel grass under my feet. How am I supposed to be the goddess of vegetation if I cannot even see the vegetation?”

If you had been paying more attention, you would have felt the way that the grass started to sway and the whispers of plants all around you. And you surely would have felt the way that part of the ground opened up to reveal your mother, who had heard your entire small speech. “My, what a talker you are.”

You turned around to face her, and she was already giving you a look before she started to talk to you yet again. “I have already told you to not guilt these kind nymphs into doing you any favors. You’re lucky that they still want anything to do with you, you trouble maker.”

“It’s not my fault that you don’t trust me.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I don’t trust men,” she said, her voice hushed. “They are cruel, and they are disgusting. And you are not to be alone when they could be around.”

“There are none here.”

“You wouldn’t know until it’s too late,” she reasoned, and she held a hand out for you. You grimaced when she pulled your legs out of the water and dismissed the nymphs kindly, and they jumped into the water themselves and disappeared. “I cannot trust many with you, my flower. Do not be rude to the very few that I do.”

You scowled as she turned her back, a face that you had never quite grown the courage to make while she was still watching you. You could rattle off many people that your mother had scared away and told you to stay far away from, and that included humans, most men, and a few of the gods that she didn’t trust to not attempt to take you away.

That was her biggest fear, though she never said it explicitly. It was clear that her fierce protectiveness came from her terror. Young girls were always at risk by being taken, by gods and men alike who had no regard for the opinion or feelings of women. It seemed that every hundred years or so, a huge war would break out on earth, and typically, it was because one man’s wife became another’s hostage. And between gods… it was not unheard of for them to take young goddesses and make them bear heirs. None of the ones that you were close with ever did anything like that, but that didn’t make the threat less real. Your mother made sure that you knew of that.

“Don’t speak to Hermes alone,” your mother would say, her voice half full of fondness. “He means well most of the time, but he is capable of fast talking you into selling your time and your soul.” And then there was another string of advice, such as, “ Never go too far out in the sea. Poseidon is moody, and he may not spare you if you start to drown. It takes a village to anger him, but go out of your way to not push Zeus. He is the mightiest of all, and if he wishes to strike you down, he will.” And with every single harsh word about them, she would always say that she doubted that anyone would truly ever wish harm towards you, the youngest of the young gods, the harmless little Goddess of Growth.

Except for Hades.

“She is pure evil,” your mom had hissed out, and you remembered flinching back at how angered she suddenly was by just the thought of the ancient goddess, and you knew from stories that the nymphs used to tell you that your mother and Hades went way back. And though you didn’t know the full story, you certainly understood that they knew each other not in the best of ways.

“She is capable of murdering anything with even a sliver of life in it, and she reigns over the dead. Anyone who is condemned to have such a gloomy job for all of eternity must be evil, and that she is. If you ever see her, or ever start to feel the choking feeling of death in the air and are not with me, you are to run until you cannot run anymore, do you understand me?” She had made you nod and tell her that you understood verbally, and still, even as days passed, the tension never left her body.

Days later, while nursing a flower as slowly as possible from its bud, you called for her. “Mother,” she turned her head and smiled when she saw what you were doing, and then she responded softly, urging you to continue. “What really happened between you and the Goddess of the Dead?” Her smile dropped instantly.

You never really got the full story about what happened.

§§

You had seen what was happening to you happen to others hundreds of times, mostly humans. Your favorite humans were the ones just like you, young women with parents who were worried sick about everything. And soon, you realized a pattern. Every single one of those children had rebelled in ways, some more drastic than others. It took you two thousand years and a few extra nights for you to realize that it was your turn. You were going to sneak out from right under your mother’s nose, and you were going to be back before the morning. Unless, of course, you found something worth staying for. Something worth risking the wrath of your mother for.

It took weeks for her to leave you alone, even if it was for a second. And for that one instance while she wasn’t breathing down your throat, you shot off like an arrow, out of her sight before she even realized that you had been brave enough to run. You hadn’t ever had to run, but it felt exhilarating. You could feel the wind against your skin and the petals of each flower lovingly brushing against your legs. It felt more freeing than growing wildflowers by your cabin, under the watchful eye of an Olympian and her guard dogs that came in the beautiful form of nymphs.

You had never felt so good in your entire two thousand years.

Feeling life had always been something you could do, and you could feel it even more now that you were running, breathing in through your nose and out of your mouth like you had seen soldiers do. With every breath that expanded your lungs, you felt like you could feel trees swaying, or hear leaves singing to you. It grew more addicting, and before you even knew it, you were running until you didn’t recognize where you were. You slowed down with a smile on your face, chuckling to yourself when you thought about how furious your mother was going to be. And then you felt it.

Something to the left of you was terribly, terrifyingly wrong. The life in the area was thriving, but something, a cave it seemed, was crawling with the scary and breathtaking feeling of death. You had felt it before, while discovering lifeless dear or helping your mother bless crops that humans thought had no hope. But you had never felt death on the scale that you were in that moment, and even though the feeling was making you more and more sick by the second, you couldn’t help but approach the cave, the darkest thing in your vision while everything else had enough colors to satisfy your eyes for the rest of your life.

You didn't know what was in the cave. It could have been a dead person for all you knew, but your gift was more or less affecting the cycle of life. You could help. And help, you would. So, you trudged towards the cave and stepped in, your hand covering your throat once you felt the constricting feeling come back even stronger than before. And then, in the dim light, you saw it.

It was a tree, one so dead that it was nearly unrecognizable as one. It had shrunk into itself, almost to the size of a bush, and you could see that the fruits on it had shriveled up, and like the rest of the tree, lost all color. You frowned and uncovered your throat, stepping forward as you watched the dry thing in pity. You reached out for it, bottom lip jutting out as you tried to understand what on earth had happened for it to appear like that. Before you could even ask yourself why you did it, you reached forward and touched the thing with your hand, and like it had known you all along, it started to slowly grow.

It took you a few long minutes to grow it to a point where you recognized the tree, and saw that it was growing pomegranates. The fruit grew redder by the second, and the feeling of death and decay was leaving, but for some reason, traces of it still lingered below, and you figured that it was in the soil. You grinned as you nursed the tree back to life, and the inside of the cave seemed to be just a little brighter.

“I wonder how long you’ve been left here to rot,” you murmured to yourself, your fingers itching to grab one dark purple pomegranate and bite into it, but you knew better. You had just brought it back to life, and eating a part of it would have been cruel. “I wonder if you were even prettier back before-” the ground beneath you made an odd noise, like the earth was taking its first shaky breath, and you braced yourself against the wall of the cave. You gasped when it came back even stronger, and a short scream left your throat when you felt the ground open up beneath you and swallow you whole.

§§

You must have screamed the whole way down, because when you landed harshly on your back, you heard echoes of yourself. You turned and coughed, shaking your head to get rid of the stars that flooded your vision. And then, the second your airways opened, they tightened again, the feeling of death so strong that you thought that you were well on your own way.

You coughed again and clawed at your throat, and then turned on your side as you fought for even just a sliver of breath, and then even with your blurry vision, you saw something huge and dark barreling your way.

“What’s she doing here?” You couldn’t answer. You hardly even knew if they were talking about you. You were still losing it on the ground, gripping at your torn dress and clawing at your throat like that would make it open up.

“She's not human.”

“Wait, wait, she’s not even dead!”

Somehow, the feeling of dread and darkness got even darker, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the overwhelming feeling of death surrounding you like a heavy blanket. “What is all the commotion about?”

Wherever you were grew silent. You heard people scrambling away, leaving you alone with the newcomer. The owner of the voice commanded everything, and you heard the distinct sound of heeled feet coming your way, clicking against stone. And then, right before you lost consciousness, there was a feather-light touch on your throat, right where you felt it was constricting the most, and then you felt the weight on your chest lift off all at once.

You barely got in three breaths before someone shook you, and you blinked rapidly before turning your head towards whoever was grabbing you so boldly. Your eyes focused, and then you almost lost your breath all over again.

You had no time to ogle over the obviously powerful woman and the way she looked. Even if you had time, it would have been ruined by the way she was scowling at you like you were the bane of her existence. “How did you get here?”

You took in a choppy breath. “I don't know. I don’t know where I am.” You looked away from the angry woman and saw your surroundings, and immediately, your heart dropped to your toes.

It was gray. Gloomy. Without any sign of life, not even little buds of grass. There was no color besides a lazy river that was the lightest blue you had ever seen, and it added barely anything to the sight in front of you. The entire place seemed to be made of rock, like one big cave, and the feeling you were getting made you sick. You could breathe again, but something was right. Wherever you were, you were absolutely not supposed to be there.

The woman’s eyes were still narrowed on you, but you didn’t miss the way that her face lit up in the slightest of ways, and then rested at a look of understanding. She let go of you. “You fixed my tree, didn’t you?”

“Your tree?” You repeated, shaking your head and hiding the trembling of your hands by playing with the hem of your dress, something that your mother said that you should never do. It dawned on you seconds later, and you frowned. “The pomegranate tree? It was yours?”

“Of course it’s mine. How were you unaware?”

Before you could let yourself get offended by the woman’s harshness, you crossed your arms for a different reason. “How dare you let something die like that? You left it to rot, I could feel the death from miles away,” you exaggerated, but it still didn’t move the woman. “If you plant something and call it yours, it’s your responsibility to take care of it, not to let it die.”

“My plants never grow, young god.”

You scoffed, even though your mother would be embarrassed that you made the sound with such confidence. “Young god?” You straightened your posture even as your fear grew, and the stranger seemed to grow more and more amused by you. “We’ve never met. It’s bold of you to assume my age.”

“I’ve met all the Olympians, so tyou can’t be one of them, and you’re no demigod, either,” she said, and your heart clenched at the fact. You knew no one who had met all twelve of the major gods that wasn’t one. The woman was certainly a god, it was as obvious as anything in the world, but you had no idea of what. “And you glow like the morning sun. You’re a young god.”

“Maybe so,” you said softly. “But I request that you take care of the things you decide to create.”

“Most people don’t get brave enough to request things from me,” she mused, and then her crossed arms went to her side. “Do you lack the skills to look around you and infer?”

“I suppose I do today,” you shrugged, and she gave a light smirk, almost like you were her entertainment for the day. You could hear your mother’s voice in your head though, telling you to run and that this woman was no good, no matter how at ease she seemed in the moment. In fact, the closer she got to you and the longer she stood there, the more you felt death swirling in the air and trying to pierce through some sort of protection and finish you off for good.

“You’re in the Underworld, young god.” Your breath was stolen right out of your chest, and you could barely see the faint look of triumph on her face. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know what that tree was,” she said, and for some reason, her voice seemed to tease you more than reprimand you.

You knew vaguely of what it meant. Now that you knew it was the tree, the one tree on all heaven and earth that you had no business touching, you knew who it belonged to, and what it did. It belonged to the woman before you, the god whose presence was making you more and more terrified by the second. Now, you knew exactly who she was. “You?” You sputtered, and she lifted a perfect brow. “You’re Hades?”

You don’t know what you expected. Maybe a woman dressed in all back wit long, dark hair, and a sickly smile. Maybe you expected for her to look as terrifying as the thought of death was. You expected some one who looked much more terrifying than the red headed woman before you, even though she was without a doubt intimidating. 

“I prefer another name, but that will do from you,” she said, and your jaw dropped. “And you saved my tree.” You knew you had, but the consequences of the far ff tale that you had never imagined would apply to you were running around in your head. You were kicking yourself for being drawn to the tree in the first place, and for your morbid curiosity and the way that you ran straight out of your mother’s suffocating but protecting arms. “Do you know what that means, young god?”

Your voice was shaky, almost not even there when you muttered the word “yes” and stared off into the distance, cursing yourself for not listening to what your mother had told you ever since you could remember.

“I hope you have enough strength for the entire garden, young god.” 

You were bound to Hades and her realm by age old magic, and there was nothing that you or your mother could do until you found a way to do the impossible; make the Garden of Hell grow.

Your blank stare must have made her uneasy, because she snapped her fingers in front of your face. When you blinked, you saw something huge come barreling your way, and once you realized what it was, your heart fell into your stomach. She had summoned a huge, three headed dog to come and lean over the both of you, eyes yellow and staring at you with intrigue that made you want to screech. Instead, you swallowed. “Please. You can let me go, I won’t tell.”

“Its magic almost as old as I am, placed by Hecate. You may know her as Wanda.” She gave you a shrug, but she hardly looked bothered. “Her spell cannot be broken, not even by herself.”

Your breathing was accelerating, and you saw Hades look at you strangely, and you were sure she could sense your extreme fear. You locked eyes with the dog, the dog even you had heard of despite your mother cursing the owner’s name. “I don’t know how I fixed your tree, and I doubt I could do it again. Please, let me leave.”

“By bringing that tree back to life, you’ve made your decision and signed your name in blood.” You both ignored the pitiful sound that escaped your throat. “There’s nothing that I can do about it.”

You gulped. “My mother will come looking for me,” you said, and you watched her unbothered face drop just a bit, and then she tilted her head to the side. You had gotten her. “She won’t stop until she finds me and brings me home.”

“You say this like I should be afraid of your mother, who is no doubt a nymph of some far off forest.” You made a face. She simply shrugged, her shoulder length red hair bouncing a bit. “She’s nothing to me.”

Being a nymph was the furthest thing from dishonorable. They were loyal and always very beautiful. You almost cried when you realized that you would never see your overbearing nymphs again. “My mother is not a nymph.”

“I do not care for whatever minor goddess birthed you, young goddess. Not even Zeus could break this, and you’d best understand that.”

“My mother is friends with Hecate. She will make her find a way to release me, Hades.”

There was a pause in the conversation, but none of the tension faded. If anything, it only built on the silence. “How is it that you’re a god, yet I’ve never seen you?” Hades asked, a frown on her face.

“My mother keeps you far away from me because she despises you.” You spat, and you saw a flash of light behind her eyes, and she breathed out harshly. “I was never supposed to meet you.”

“The Fates have spun your destiny a different way than either of us have hoped, then.” She said, her voice rough as she looked you right in your eyes. It was then that you noticed how pale her blue eyes were, and the emotion that lacked. Her pink lips curled down all of a sudden, and then her eyes were narrowed. “Demeter, isn’t it? She’s your mother?”

You gathered all of the courage that you had left after everything that happened. The feeling of death was still intimidating, and even worse was the way Hades commanded the space with her hellhound. “Yes. And she will find me, and she will take me home.”

“This is a one way ticket until you can fix my garden, flower girl. Believe me, I don’t particularly want you here, either.” She looked you up and down, eyes lingering on the crown of flowers on your forehead and the way you had bands of them wrapped around your wrists and ankles. You were the brightest thing down there, and it was obvious that she wasn’t used to seeing things so… alive. “Your mother is just going to have to be upset.” She gave you one last look, her eyes on the dress made of fabric and flowers for a second too long to be categorized as a fleeting glance. She muttered something in a language that was foreign to you, and her unimaginably tall dog stood all the way up at attention, slightly baring its teeth at you until you forced yourself to look away from it.

And then they were gone. And you were alone. By yourself in the Land of the Dead, the one place a flower would never grow. In the one place where you could truly perish.

                                                 *******

hi guys! i really hope you guys liked this one, this idea has been like swirling around in my mind for months and i can’t get it to leave. it’s s much fun right now to write though, so i hope at least one of y’all enjoyed this lol

if you happen to like this and would like to be placed on one of my tragic tag lists, it’s a definite yes for me! thank you guys for reading this 

[eclipsebythedawn]

Smothered Flames & Shadows (Part 1)

Hi guys! So this is my first fanfiction ever, and I’m honestly not sure if it’s even good but I thought I wanted to share some Gwynriel with you all :) I have a sort of story planned out and this will likely have more parts. I’m pretty sure I will continue this story since I have more stuff planned out (hence the part 1) but right now it’s just some Gwynriel crumbs. Hope you guys will enjoy it and stay safe wherever you are. 

(How are we gonna wait like ten years for the Gwynriel book because I believe in you SJM you MUST MUST give us Gwynriel ??!) 

Ps. This is the updated version, I added a new chunk for Azriel’s reaction. (Updated on 26 April 2021)

Azriel's wings flapped as he patrolled the skies. The dense cloud cover as well as the fading sunlight disguised his presence and he needed minimal effort to remain hidden. His shadows could taste the looming chaos and flitted around him warningly.

Be careful, be careful.

He could hear through their thoughts and saw through their lingering words. All was quiet here, it seemed. He would much rather preferred to be stationed at the ethereally beautiful Dawn Court, their High Lord serene but with an inner strength that was unflappable, instead of... here.

The Autumn Court held no such delights. Yes, the scenery was more than picturesque -- its flora suspended in eternal autumn, the golden-brown leaves swirling leisurely through the air, their russet color so much like a certain male that was mated to a certain girl he could never have.

Allow me to make one thing very clear. You are to stay away from her.

Unbidden, his brother's fury-driven words cut into his muddled thoughts. Azriel knew that he was old and cranky and Rhys didn't deserve his anger and resentment after what he went through for all of them, but he was... gods, he was so damn tired.

The first female outside of Mor who had caught his eyes -- of course she had to be denied from him. Cauldron knew that the Mother had never shone its light on him, not that he even deserved to be embraced by Her warmth.

His mind finally allowed him to remember the beautiful brunette always on the back of his mind. Her doe-like eyes, sweet smile and that alluring scent, so pure and innocent and arousing and --

Fuck.

Azriel adjusted himself, his pants stifling and uncomfortable. Shit. He was in deep shit. But he couldn't stop himself from fantasizing about how she would taste, how she would look when he made her come.

Rhys's words from the other day, during solstice so many months ago, hadn't helped. Azriel's desperate lust had only grown even more to the point that he was actively avoiding the second Archeron sister so she wouldn't scent his arousal.

For that matter, so his two brothers wouldn't catch him lusting after her especially after the warning he was given.

And she seemed to be avoiding him too.

Azriel made one more round in the skies, the night as chilly and familiar as his own shadows that seemed strangely subdued now. His thoughts continued to stray towards...

Elain.

Beautiful, clean, pure, worthy Elain. He was none of those things, he knew that. Had resigned himself to it after five centuries of futile pining for a female that never returned his desires. He did not blame Mor. Could not blame Mor. He was tainted and she deserved someone better than him.

But when he saw Elain... Their unlikely friendship had gradually turned into something more. It had only continued to develop after Elain was Made High Fae and he became even more attuned to her, constantly sharing the same space. And for the first time since Mor, he wanted. He wanted to have what his two brothers had. It was wrong and it was selfish, but he saw Rhys and Cassian and he wondered --

Maybe the Cauldron had made a mistake. Three sisters of blood and three brothers of choice. Two thirds fulfilled, and somewhere deep down inside, he had been uselessly, worthlessly holding onto hope.

He had not dared to whisper it out loud until Rhys caught him just before their kiss. And Rhys reaction had only served to remind him why he was wrong for her. Why Elain deserved someone else.

But for the first time in his life, he wanted to throw caution to the wind.

Deciding that all was well and not wanting to remain a second longer, Azriel gathered his shadows and prepared to winnow back to home. He frowned when his shadows flittered over him... disapprovingly?

Yes, that was disapproval. His lips tightened as they swirled around him angrily.

What the hell was wrong with them tonight?

Azriel yanked on his petulant shadows. They continued to ignore him, some even going as far as to ignore him.

He scowled. His shadows were stepping out of line more and more frequently as thought something was bothering him.

Or someone.

He shoved aside the image of tendrils dancing and singing around a certain redhead, her bright teal eyes laughing and --

Azriel forcibly winnowed and dragged his disobeying shadows after him, leaping across the miles between the Autumn Court and home within a single step, resigning himself to a lonely night -- as always.

~~~

The night was alive.

It was a comforting blanket draped over her, Gwyn mused silently.

But she felt dead.

It was going to be one of those nights, then. Those nights when she woke up screaming, drenched in sweat only to realize it was just another nightmare. That reality was like a noose tied around her neck, dragging her further down into the pits of Hell where she belonged.

She would never meet Catrin even in death. Because her lovely, beautiful sister who had shone like the brightest star was amongst the stars in the heavens. That single thought was the only thing pushing her forward on the worst of nights.

On nights where flinging herself out of a high balcony on the impossible chance that she would see Catrin again seemed possible. Gwyn had thought that that was before.

Before Nesta, before Emerie, before meeting her Valkyrie sisters whom she knew would and had walked with her through pain and darkness and led her back.

But even after so much training, nothing had changed. She was still the cowardly, timid, broken doll she thought she had left behind.

Gwyn sighed even as sadness and pain, always so much pain, swelled inside her. Logically she knew she wasn't thinking straight. If Nesta or Emerie were here, they would be chiding her for her thoughts, the former sharp but mindful, and the latter firm but gentle. A small smile came onto her faces at all the memories they shared.

The cutting of the ribbon. Winning the obstacle course that served as the Blood Rite Qualifier. And then winning the actual Blood Rite itself while Nesta -- unyielding, unflinching -- held the lines for Gwyn and Emerie to be crowned as Carynthians.

And now, Nesta and Cassian's mating ceremony. Despite everything she was feeling, Gwyn was happy for her friend.

Her sister by choice.

She knew Nesta deserved Cassian as he did her, and she felt genuine happiness for the pair. It was obvious during the long months of initial, grueling training that there was a spark between the two. An attraction that could not be denied.

She longed to find that love though in truth Gwyn knew she might never be ready for it.

Her point was further proven yesterday when Nesta had invited them during a break in training to her mating ceremony, held in a week's time. Gwyn knew that preparations were already underway and she was as honored and grateful as Emerie to be invited, but still she had hesitated, especially at the list of invited and accepted guests.

It wasn't mortifyingly long since Nesta only wanted close friends and family and Cassian only wanted the High Lord, Rhysand and Azriel, but the guest was filled with important names that made Gwyn nervous just to hear them.

The High Lord and High Lady were enough to make her dizzy. And then there was the High Lord's Second and Third, both formidable females in their own right. Gwyn thought wryly though that Emerie had seemed flustered and even blushed a little when her ears caught on a certain someone's name in the list Nesta had shared.

She was happy for her friend too. Emerie deserved friendship -- and love, if that relationship could blossom. But she knew better than interfere when her own relationships were so precarious.

The Prince of Adriata was coming, along with Mother above, the High Lord of the Day Court, Helion. Nesta's younger sister Elain was on the list as well though Nesta's face had clouded a bit when she read her name out loud. And then there was her mate -- Lucien Vanserra.

The supposedly exiled son of the High Lord of Autumn, who had ties to numerous Courts and was a valuable ally.

It was silly and stupid but amidst this sea of important names, Gwyn had wondered on more than one occasion what she could even do there. She had immediately scolded herself mentally, that she would be attending the ceremony for Nesta and even Cassian, who had become a bit of an older brother figure to her, and she would have Emerie with her.

She knew Emerie would fight anyone who dared to even look at her the wrong way.

But the larger part of Gwyn was scared. So many people would be attending, especially the males. It wasn't as if Helion or Lucien would randomly pounce on her, and that her fear was irrational, but she couldn't stop thinking about them. Couldn't stop thinking about that day where so many males surrounded her, where that hateful Hybern commander had ordered her held down, had pummeled into her as silent tears fell down her face, had laughed in her face and --

Gwyn counted the stars in the sky in time to her quickened breathing. Deep breaths, she told herself. When she couldn't sleep on nights like these she would train until nearly the breaking of dawn. She should get up from her position on the ground.

Probably.

But lying on the cold floor of the training area atop the House of Wind was a refreshing change. After having been coped up in the library for two years, she had finally decided to join Nesta in her morning training sessions with Cassian.

It was quite possibly the best decision she had ever made.

But still... But still, the doubt lingered. It festered. It thrived on her pain and self-hatred, quietly growing on nights like these.

It thrived at the fact that Emerie had accepted the invitation immediately, but Gwyn, worthless, selfish Gwyn had not. Was she so pathetic that she couldn't even congratulate her friend on her special day?

She should really get up. Perhaps train a bit more, instead of lying here wallowing in her dark thoughts.

Then a tiny tendril of shadow-kissed power gently prodded her arm. She startled, turning around and half-getting up.

She already knew who would be standing before her with his usual contemplative silence.

Azriel.

He was before her and she froze for one second. A twinge of fear crept in at his closeness, at the nearness of another male, so suddenly and unpredicted --

Azriel took a step back, saying softly, "I'm sorry if I surprised you."

Gwyn blinked. The shadowsinger was nothing but the epitome of manners and he had likely scented her fear.

"It's fine." And that was true. Her fear had instantly washed away as abruptly as it had arrived upon realizing who was here.

Azriel would never hurt her, Gwyn was sure of that.

She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the awkward silence that had descended.

"Are you here for something?" She winced slightly at her choice of words. This was his home. She had no right to even utter such a question when she was the outsider.

Before Azriel could reply, another shadow darted out and wrapped itself around her arm before rushing back to its master. Gwyn felt the corners of her lips twitched up as the shadowsinger blinked once, twice in... shock.

"Did you forget your favorite dagger again?" She teased and was rewarded with a faint blush on his cheeks. His lovely and if she dared say, adorable shadows had given her the courage she needed.

To her surprise, he played along. "Have you seen an eighteen-inch dagger anywhere?"

Gwyn burst out laughing at the ridiculous statement.

"May I remind you that it's a dagger you have misplaced -- not a sword?"

"Forgive me if my memory fails sometimes." Was she seeing things or was there a twinkle in his eyes?

"Well, you do seem to forget things rather easily." Oh, she was certain! Amusement ran deep inside his hazel eyes and Gwyn felt breathless for a second, mesmerized by the beautiful male.

Staring into his eyes... She smiled at him, a genuine crinkling of her eyes. He had lifted her mood within seconds of his arrival.

Azriel seemed to freeze for a second, his usual stillness somehow magnifying. Intensifying. His shadows writhed around and she had the odd feeling that he was struggling to control them.

She blinked, and the moment passed.

"Were you training?" Azriel motioned towards her sweaty body. She nodded mutely, still caught up in what had occurred. Was it just her imagination? Looking at the stoic Illyrian standing before her, Gwyn decided she was just too tired, and her mind was playing tricks on her.

"...My help?"

Gwyn snapped out of her thoughts, head jerking up. "What?"

Azriel cocked an eyebrow at her obvious inattentiveness and she felt herself blushing. She chided herself mentally.

"Do you require my help?" He repeated the question, that faint amusement still dancing in his eyes.

"Wait. Are you asking to train me?" Another eyebrow raise.

"Were you expecting me to teach you the benefits of lying on the cold floor in the middle of the night?" He replied dryly.

Gwyn scowled and immediately stood up.

"Uh-huh. I was expecting you to fling your arms about and start serenading me."

"Is that a demand?" Azriel chuckled quietly. Gwyn thought that might be the most heavenly sound she had ever heard.

"Is that a challenge?" Gwyn shot back, not missing a beat.

The corners of his lips twitched up. Gwyn wanted to wipe that smirk off his face, her competitive streak setting in. She was also excited for this match because truth be told, she had been training everyday in anticipation of wiping the floor with the shadowsinger. It was her secret fantasy.

Not that it would happen anytime still but... Still.

"You can help me with my training. But on one condition."

Azriel contemplated her more seriously before he nodded his head.

"We fight now. Hand-to-hand."

~~~

The night was alive.

And Gwyneth Berdara was the full moon that accompanied it, shining brightly even amidst the darkness. She was so lovely, yet he sensed something pure and burning thriving inside her. His shadows yearned to flit around her, touch her, dance and sing for her. He had to keep them on a tight leash, and they were unhappy.

Little tendrils of darkness swirled around him petulantly. They wanted to go to Gwyn. Would have gone to her without his intervention. One stray thread snuck out and nearly coiled around Gwyn's wrist before he snatched it back in time. He could have sworn his own shadows growled at him. But he had bigger things to focus on.

Like the fact that Gwyn had just challenged Azriel to a duel.

Once again, his shadows had failed to mention that she was here. There was no quick escape that didn't end in awkwardness so he had stayed -- and so far he was... contented. Being around her seemed to have that effect on himself.

She was humming to herself as she stretched, preparing her body before their fight. His shadows buzzed around excitedly, seeming to forget about their earlier disagreement. He supposed there was no question who they were rooting for.

"Ready?" He asked Gwyn. She nodded, then held up a hand.

"Wait." She retied her ponytail, not letting even a single strand of her coppery chestnut obstructing her vision. He admired her competitiveness, her courage and strength in always fighting for the best.

Meeting her by chance here again reminded him of solstice, and his mind wandered to Elain before he slammed down his thoughts.

Focus. He had watched and trained Gwyn enough to know that she was a threat: an emerging dark horse that proved unpredictable and cunning. He also knew she had silently studied his fighting style enough to know more than just a few of his preferred tricks.

They circled each other, neither one of them making the first move.

He had drilled into her what signs to look out for, what feints and what blockings would be an unexpected yet effective counterattack that he was more than a little wary.

Still, he decided to make the first move, which was so out of his usual style that he hoped she would be unprepared. He had the feeling that she already knew he was going to attack first though as she sidestepped him and threw a punch.

Like he was expecting. He grabbed it and pulled her towards him to jilt her balance, but she was already expecting that and swept out her leg, forcing him to move unless he wanted to end up on the ground. The next move he had perfected to mastery.

He pretended to feint left when he was actually aiming for the left. A cheap shot, but he had also taught her that no real fights were clean and honest. She twisted her body but they both knew she wouldn't dodged in time.

At the last moment, his shadows decided to move and --

Capture his fucking hand. They wrapped themselves around him and his eyes widened as he was stopped mid-throw by his own shadows. The scenario would have been laughable if he wasn't in so much disbelief. They had never outright hindered him in any battles before.

He cursed, barely dodging the next kick Gwyn sent his way. They broke apart again and Gwyn asked, "Something wrong?" She glanced towards his wayward shadows and he had a strong feeling she knew.  

He shook his head, glaring at his swirling shadows. They just blinked up at him innocently.

Don't hurt her. Don't hurt her. Lovely mistress lovely mistress lovely mistress.

He gritted his teeth. Their fancy for Gwyn had reached the point of obsession but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she squinted and then broke into a grin.

"Aha. I thought I saw your little friends earlier." At her words, his shadows flew towards her joyfully, happy to be recognized. Azriel rubbed his neck as his shadows neared Gwyn, knowing that she had to secretly hate them for being so ugly and tainted and unworthy --

Gwyn bent down. What she did next would stay in his memories forever. Holding out an arm, she let his shadows coiled around the entire length, wisps of midnight trailing her as she walked towards Azriel.

His shadows were happier than he had ever known them to be. He could feel their joy with every step she took, sense the way they were telling him to look look look look.

Then Gwyn smiled at him, her teal eyes so clear and large.

"Your shadows are beautiful."

~~~

"Your shadows are beautiful."

Azriel stood still. His entire body was frozen, and even his heart seemed to cease its beating.

Gwyn took a step back at whatever expression was on his face. What she said... Did she understand that what she said -- no one had ever deigned to voice before?

Did she look at his hideous soul and scarred hands?

Did she see how truly stained he was?

He wanted to believe she did. He had never wanted something more than Gwyn seeing him, truly seeing him be true. But if it were true...

How could his shadows be beautiful?

"I'm -- I'm sorry for stepping out of line." She stuttered out, her eyes wide.

Azriel glanced up sharply, snapped out of his trance. She looked horrified and was stammering out another apology, her pitch high and wobbly.

Shit.

Before he could process what he was saying, words tumbled out of his mouth, aided by the push of an impatient shadow desperate to right all things wrong.

"It is I who should be apologizing." His voice was a soft whisper in the night breeze. Gwyn paused halfway through her long speech and she stood there gaping at him.

"I am sorry, Gwyn." Azriel truly was. He could feel the shame gnawing at him. Yet another mistake. Yet another disappointment. He was a lowly half-breed bastard. His "little friends" curled around his tightening fists anxiously. He could not quite meet her eyes as chagrin dragged him down and whispered,"I should not have reacted the way I did."

He did not know what to expect. The infamous spymaster that was Azriel could never anticipate any of Gwyn's actions. She was an enigma, a mystery that constantly evaded him, the light at the end of the tunnel that shied away from him at every twist and turn.

He saw Gwyn take a deep breath from his peripheral vision and steeled himself. He gathered the remnants of his scattered mask, ready to return to just the High Lord's spymaster.

And then Gwyn spoke.

"I... I do not know your story. I do not know the dark tales that define your past. But I know you. And I know that whatever it is... It does not define you. It does not define the male I see standing before me. It cannot define the male who saved my very life, who --" Here her voice caught and she had to stop for a moment.

Azriel's heart clenched painfully. He did not know why but... He wanted to hug her and show her that her past had never defined her. Not for him, not for Nesta or Emerie and he wanted her to know that it shouldn't for herself.

"Who placed that cloak upon me with such gentle hands." She continued softly, gazing down at his scarred palms. And for the first time in a sea of forever, Azriel did not feel the urge to hide his shadow-kissed hands. Those same shadows began to swirl towards Gwyn and she did not flinch.

She only continued staring at him with those eyes that could see through everything. Did he want them to see through him? Yes.

She sees. And she is not afraid. Azriel's shadows basked them in a cocoon of living darkness.

"I refuse to let your past define you. I do not accept that. So fight. Your story... even if it never comes to me, there is nothing it can tell me that I don't already know. You are brave, thoughtful and so, so kind. You and Cassian trusted me to survive and conquer the Rite as you two had trusted Nesta and Emerie. If not then both of you would have stormed in immediately, and no law could have overruled you. So please... Please believe in me like you did. Just this once, if nothing else." Gwyn finished a little breathlessly and he knew she had rushed through the last part because she was nervous.

But somehow the bit that stuck out to him was her thinking he used to believe in her. He did, but used to? He still did. And he wanted her to know that, more than anything. He wanted Gwyn to know that he had never stop believing in her.

And seeing Gwyn's crestfallen face as each second passed and he still remained silently, he knew she was thinking the worst.

He wanted her smile back. His shadows wanted that too.

But more than anything, they both wanted her to sing again. And looking at her dispirited expression, at that moment even his shadows were unsure whether she would find her voice again.

She had spilled her thoughts to him, and he was standing there like an idiot.

Your words, Azriel. Use your words.

His shadows were begging him to say something. Anything, please please please.

As she turned to leave, he finally found his voice. The voice she unknowingly helped him find.

"Gwyn, I'm sorry -- please wait." She paused, hesitating as her eyes met his. Azriel did not know what to say. He was incapable of saying anything but "sorry", that word so pathetic and useless. Sorry was not enough when Rhys was captured by Amarantha. Sorry was not enough when Feyre was forced to sacrifice herself for their -- for his sake. Sorry was not enough when Elain was taken away by the Cauldron in the middle of the night.

Sorry had never been enough and never would be. Azriel was a stupid, foolish idiot.

"Azriel." Gwyn spoke his name softly. He tore himself away from his useless thoughts and looked at her.

She... did not look upset. She did not look angry, nor sad, nor frustrated. Instead, understanding lay in those warm teal eyes.

"I'm not pushing you to share about yourself. You are not obliged to just because I rambled on about my thoughts." Gwyn's eyes were indeed filled with apology and remorse though she had a small smile.

"You will always be my friend. And I will wait for you, even if the day you want to share about yourself never comes. Because I know you will do the same for me."

Somehow, in that moment when even time seemed to have held its breath, when even the Mother seemed to be watching, Azriel felt something in him shifted. In the distant, he could have sworn a phoenix's song filled his veins, a song of smothered flames and shadows.

"Besides, I think the silent, brooding type fits you better than Cassian's I-wrecked-one-tiny-unimportant-useless-building hotheadedness." Gwyn teased.

The distant calling seemed to grow louder, and Azriel could have sworn --

He could have sworn that a faraway glow beckoned him. And his shadows were more restless than ever, nearly tearing away from their master in their excitement.

So when Gwyn grinned at him, he smiled back.

The stars twinkling overhead seemed to beam back too. For the first time in a long while, Azriel felt contented. It was a feeling he had not experienced since... Since solstice. And back then he was with Gwyn, too, he realized abruptly. It was this female before him who had brought him not once, but twice such longed-for peace and quiet.

Gwyn was wrong. It was not his shadows who were beautiful.

It was her.

It was the Valkyrie who had walked beside Death -- and never cowered.

Never feared, never faltered.

Gwyneth Berdara was a secret, lovely beauty.

Sorry for any grammatical errors (or just errors in general) since I’m writing on my own right now. Thanks for reading and stay tune for part 2 <3

Updated comment: Hi guys, so I added a new bit about Azriel’s reaction. I was planning out the whole story so it’s taking a while and I’m sorry about the wait. I’m nearly done with planning things out chapter-by-chapter so part 2 is on its way. Thank you for staying with me 

xoxo

Dawn ~

[muffindaddystyles]

𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑁𝐺 & 𝐵𝐸𝐴𝑈𝑇𝐼𝐹𝑈L 

A oneshot of how you two met in the beautiful city of Italy, how Harry finds you an Angel descended from heaven above that took his hand and became his light. Dad!harry full of fluff..oh yeah dad!harry nation lets rise. .Part two of tooth rotting dad harry of it is here too. young and beautiful (II)

It's Saturday night. Harry and you intentionally have no plans but to loaf around in your guys cosy homely space. The candles flames with rośe tranquilness, the intro to movie watched many times together rolling in. Both of you are snuggled onto large body sucking sea-green velvet couch infront of telly.

His daddy long legs nestled atop your hip hooking around your ankle protecting you from falling if possible (moreso the fact he's extremely protective of you in your pregnancy.) His one elbow snaked around your collarbones which are now hiding underneath soft swelling, his sweater pawed arm sheltering around your huge eight months baby bump slender tender fingers tucked underneath your side.

You relaxes into him, back pressed to his tanned chest and with his chin resting atop your hair whenever he rasped out something it bobbed your whole head.

"Yeh' kay, baby? comfy?" He asks you for the hundredth time now caressing and stroking your chin, then earlobes, collarbones to your belly and the list goes on. It's one of his habits that he doesn't realizes himself more as ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑔𝑒. Harry's love language's physical contact, lots and lots of them. He finds calm in touching you here and there, raking his palms without them knowing their destination. He's cuddly and clingiest when drunk. Although, he has stopped drinking since you both are expecting but the clingy part of him jumped out during this period his only excuses are "wanna stay close to me' three babies." Or "i feel empty when you're even a bit away from me." 

"'M lover, stop worrying." You bring his jaw down with the tip of your pointer finger to kiss his lips gently with a tilt of your chin. He mumbles an anxious "cant." in your mouth running his thumb under the curve of your womb with amiable affection.

You hiss into his mouth when one of your bubba kicks you with ever most force and he pushes away with amused eyes, when he felt the kick against his palm. It's not like it's his first but everything related to his unborn babies muse him to utter excitement and tears of joy.

He shifts a tad resting his a little scruffy cheek against your silken naked bump, you're wearing one of his crotched zinc orange crop top and it bunched up your belly in very much likeness of Harry, he thinks you look so endearingly sexy he could make you use him as many times you want. His ear tucked under the crescent of your chest, "feels like jus' a barrier of skin between us." He bubbles his accent and you smile down at him infectiously. Meanouvering your fingers into his chestnut curls and massaging his scalp that made his eyelids futter into bliss.

There was another visible kick and Harry smoothed down the skin eyes shinning up at you, "a footy champ this one." You sucked your bottom lip trying not break into fits of laughter because from the weight your pelvis muscles has become weak and you end up leaving wet tiny splotches most of the time. First time you had it was two months ago you were fucking embarrassing and couldn't stop crying right after an hour of genuine laugh ofcourse caused by Harry when you guys shopped for babies and he wore that one onesie on his head being all goofy and child of two while expecting two himself.

"How're meh' baby girls. meh' bunnies." He smauched loud wet kisses all over your belly making slobbery snuggly voices to annoy you. You tug at his roots whining loudly because you know the undeniable loving scene of Harry talking to his two daughters will bring you to tears all because of stubborn hormones. Yes, two!

While you weren't even expecting a pregnancy, God said wait for my bumper surprise.

Everyone told your bump looks healthier than normal pregnancies but you ignored it until the day of gender check-up. Harry was ecastatic, fist pumping the air, bouncing with your hands intervined tears bloodshot in his eyelines. So were you...but you had a huge breakdown on the wooden floor of your home's threshold. You were blabbering thousand questions to him, body shaking and fighting to breath.

"I...I can't do this, Harry...too much 's too much." You cried to him that day. But he cradled your face into his calloused palms his temple kissed yours, "ye' can, my sweet girl. we can. wish I could bear one of our baby bunny, it's sad that I cant help ye'. But, it's my promise to be there for you forever and always." He leaned down to kiss you with so much love, more love he was keeping to himself ever since and more more love he can't put into words.

He comes back from your belly to leave a feathery kiss on your lips that makes you yearn for him more and settles back to his previous position, his face shoved into the crook of your neck and he presses kisses to the corner of your lips while your eyes remains glued to telly.

As Sally and Harry bickered in the car you chuckled softly fingers tracing his nose and the mole sheltered under it, "remember how we met?" His breath fanned tickling your cheek heartily when he shook his head with a giddy giggle.

"How could I not? Yeh' were a honey pot and a weepy mess after tha'." He scrunches his nose at you adorably reminiscing the night and series of nights after that.

"It was your fault mister." You twitch your lips turning to his side with his help and his hand sprawled at your back instinctively. "Ye' souvenired t' give a lonely guy like me some company, first." He smiles when you huffed. His beam getting joyously wider when your belly pressed tightly against his's and he kisses your forehead multiple times.

"Who thought that guy escapin' from Gucci's biggest event could be a dad of two girls." You quip playing with his neckline and his chest rumbled with a titter that sent you to cloud nine.

"Not me at all. But, if I could meet him back in time I'll tell him how lucky he's gonna be, how happy he'll be, that he doesn't needs to be a grumpy daddy when he could be a real happy one." His eyes are glassy and you cupped his cheeks placing your lips atop his into a feverish kiss of gentleness.

~𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑠ℎ𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑡𝑜 2015~

Gucci's spring festive on full blossom in the most popular old city of Italy, Milan. It's luxurious in all it's glory. A-list celebrities and world claimed most beautiful models. The hall clattered and shushed with talks, rumours, gossips and greets. Then it's fashion and tailored-fitted clothes, formal gowns. Fake smiles. Cold hearts.

On the long dinning table piled with food that sometimes's too difficult to pronounce Harry sat along with Kendall Jenner. His ex-girlfriend and a friend for now. She talks excitedly with the person infront of her snarling rude remarks here and there. Her hand came squeezing his thigh under the table that startled him from his imaginary world. A world where he's at peace, the luxuries doesn't exist and he's nothing but a normal person.

"Huh, love?" He kinks his brows together fiddling with the napkin in his lap and she gave him a furious pout for not giving her full attention, "I was pointing out how fast-fashion brands are shit." She rolls her eyes. Harry can't believe her bratty arse. He shrugged his thigh with a tad more harshness to get rid of her touch.

"Dunno. No' everyone could afford luxury brands." At this the model infront of them cackled more in her mock and sniffed to be polite in the fake hush of the room. Harry's eyes turned glassy and the jade in the murky to the visible irritation at their behaviour. His expressions dark and unreadable under the very less light.

Quiffing his long hickorey curls back he nibbed at his pointer finger's knuckle only to bend it under his chin afterwards, "'m serious." Kendall sighs loudly at this clearly annoyed by the way he's acting and the model infront of him gave him a 'whatever makes you sleep at night.' look and a shrug of her shoulders in arrogance while eating her steak.

Enough. Harry thinks with a grumble struck in his chest. He rakes the chair back that drew some attention but it drifted to some person sharing their experience and all that shit talk again on the loop.

Harry's guard followed him behind pushing the paparazzi away. Flashes in his eyes. Made up assumptions to his ears and shoved up opinions to his chest. He's sick. From all of this. He wants to shout to no-one in particular but himself, he wants an escape. He wants it with his every bleeding cell.

Then he takes a curt turn with a whiplash of his torso to dark alley beside the building from which he just exited and when he reached the end it was blocked by a brick wall so he jumped with ease to other side, his expensive boots scruffing against the gravel. He gave no care to the guard behind him.

He was in a local less populated street. Wider with the bumpy stones and there were people indeed but nobody paid him heed.

He sat on the concrete bench. Flinging his one leg over another hand gripping near his crotch and with a relieved huge exhale of breath he took his phone out going through it. After, so long he feels like he's a free dove who could breath free escaping from it's cage.

He's broken. Empty and in the rough path of his life. He doesn't know how to cope with it. It makes him fuckin' insane.

There's an ice-cream cart few steps away from where he's sitting alone onto bench. His head snaps at the beautiful giggle bouncing through the tangerine sky. He squints his eyes to get a better look of the group of friends crowding near the cart and licking onto their ice-creams.

Your white cotton dress furled with a wave of zephyr and the loose errand of your hair slipping from your low bun cascading around your face while you gave a belly ache laugh to one of your tall friend bopping his nose at his silliness.

Harry stares at the interaction of young people. They're just like him but looks more happy and youthful then why couldn't he?

His eyes are set on a certain figure and that's you still hidden from him as your friend Mona blocked the sight of your perfect view to Harry nudging your ribs.

"Is that Harry Styles." Jo mutters when his eyes fell over him and then he bashfully hisses, "don't look back! Don't look back. You guys are being too specific." Considering yourself stupid you spinned to have an ethereal sight of Harry sitting all by himself on the cold bench, his carved features glowing with the illumination of his phone screen still unlocked while he got distracted by you people.

"Doesn't feels like he's enjoying himself." Mona quipped taking a large swipe of her cold delight. None of them too interested in his wear abouts.

Call it clićhe but you don't have any thought in your mind before you're asking for an ice-cream cone from the ice-cream man heading towards him with your hands occupied with two.

Harry's breath hitching in his palpalating heart at the complete sight of you, for sore eyes for sure. His nerves jittery and knee bouncing in restlessness as you approaches him with a sweet grin. He takes in your complete look. White flowy dress and nude sandals, loop earrings and the bright red lipstick resembling the blood gush of his heart. 'Less is more' making you appear so beautiful.

Harry's so lost in his own brain wrecking that he forgot where you went but you rounds him from behind flinging your left leg on the other side of bench to sit on it with your legs on either side of it, he again startles getting off-guard hastily turning to face you when you tapped his shoulder.

Licking your own vanilla sweetness you forwarded the cone to him a sweet sheepish smile on your glowing hearty features. His body guard instantly changed his position to stop you but Harry gave him a stink eye accepting your offer shyly. Your cheeks heating even in the mild temperature when his supple fingers brushed yours.

"Thank you." His voice timid wiping the corners of his heart shaped lips but you just shrugged your shoulders leaning back with your hand pressed against the bench, "no problem. you're welcome." Harry gazes at your collarbones prodding from the flimsy fabric of your v-line then he shifted his gaze down to his Gucci loafers telling himself not to be a pervert. It's just you're too delicate that he can't stop admiring.

"I like your suit." You compliments him with glinting eyes and his cheeks flushed with shyness mumbling a "thank you." Under his erratic breath.

His eyes flutters and tummy flips when you bring your hand closer to him taking the sleeve of his jacket tugging at it, "it's too graphic you know...in a good way." He finds it endearing that you were this engulfed in just the design of his suit and when you tilt your chin peering up at him, he feels like his brain stopped functioning. He nods eyes still locked to yours and when he sense some coldness dripping down his thumb he quickly ducks down to lick it off causing his sculpted cheek to stroke against your silken ones in utter gentleness.

You gulp timidly sitting back straighter.

"So...? For what stuff you're here for Harry?" He loves the way his name sounds mellow coming from you. He clears his throat unwinding his long legs to stretch them wide and it nudged yours sending jolts to both of you, "uh, 'm 'ere fo' Gucci event." You beam at this shifting closer to him.

"I like the way it sounds comin' from you." He cackles at this running his fingers to tame his matte curls.

His tense demeanor slipping bringing his shy, timid and goofball ones exposed to you. He's himself surprised that all the built up frustration in his nerves drained away from your presence.

Being an art major and a fashion geek you asks him with ferverishness patting his knee, "what was it like? I've heard it's mesmerising." He chuckles at this. He wanna scoff because a sweet girl like you wouldn't last a second there.

"'S okay. I guess." He elevates his shoulder in bored expression and when the ice-cream swipes at the tip of his nose you giggled bunching forward to his side. He smiles down at you squinting his eyes narrow in an accuse.

"And what yer' here fo'? Wait yeh from here?" You bite the waffled cone chewing it. Words muffling with a full mouth, "having a trip with my University's friends. I live in London though. I really really wanted to see Milan. So, here I'm." You make an innocent childish face raising your arms in air to show him and his heart's soothing to peace with every homely action you'd pull to make him relaxe.

Then there was silence that Harry was unaware how to break. He could hear you talking for an eternity. On the other hand you aren't that akward to make conversations with people. No doubt you're shy, and wants your own space to blossom but this one habit of yours is inseparable.

"You know when back home. An ice-cream man would come daily at midnight in summers. Me and my cousins would climb up his bicycle cart like darn monkeys. Pop our heads inside the freezer and annoy the fuck outta him. God I miss home." There's this un-pointable feeling. That's unfigurative to Harry but it's there; of admiration and of endearment. His heart's at cloud nine caressing itself to the pink cotton candy.

His heart reaches out for you from his ribcages as the homesickness glistered in your irises. You weren't obliged to talk to him, to give him company but you still did beacuse beautiful accidents and coincidence happen in the admist of rushed streets.

Harry parted his lips to talk to you more but he has nothing, his life's not unknown by anyone and the normal scenarios of people entertains him so much.

His head snaps when you grin widely at him throwing the last and best of cone inside your mouth. Your small pretty mouth chewing like a rabbit and Harry wants to have a touch, just some to shush the fire in his stomach.

His head snapping when you yelled to children that were skipping on rope waving to them, "hey kiddos! Wanna have some ice-cream!?" They all left their play of galloping running towards you. Harry looks at you wide eyes eating his last bits away.

"Our hotel gave us a coupon for free ice-creams." You laugh standing up and he wants to catch you by wrist to stop you going away from him but when you squeeze his shoulder leaning to whisper in his ear chills ran down by his spine, "will be right back." He swallows thickly nodding eyes trailing to you as you collects all the little fellas to cart.

He watches you. Is she an Angel? A mirage to help him out of his anxiousness? Or a smoke in his mind that'll disappear soon? He thinks picking on his nails. He's not ready to step out of the calm bubble you created so delicately around him. Only if life could be this easier.

He rolls his eyes playfully sucking his lips inside his mouth when he sees you paying extra for more. He looks back to his body-guard. Maybe you didn't noticed him or cares less but Harry's kinda annoyed that he has to be here in such a happy vulnerable moment of his life.

"Thank you nice lady!" Harry chuckles gleefully when all of the kids thanked her licking onto their sweets. "It's okay kids, be careful before I take them back."

Shaking your head you strides back to Harry coming to stand infront of him. You can fit perfectly between his legs if he opened them wider for you, that desireful thought swooshed through his mind but he shakes it away.

"Thank ye' nice lady." He squeaks in high teasing pitch standing up and your eyes widened when he literally towered you fully. Your height differences funny even you're in heels.

"Not you now." You declared with blushed cheeks. His irirses glinted when you fumbled with the sides of your dress.

"So...this's it?" You ask him peering up at him with such gooeness he could whimper. Shivers running down your body as the weather turned rather more chill.

"This's it.." Harry whispers. He feels what? a lump of wetness in his throat? He's at the brink though.

"Thank you for bearing my monkey ass." You guffawed out but he has serenity in his eyes. He thins his lips. "I should be the one to say thanks."

He was taken aback when you hugged him running soothing circles at his back. He inhales your tangerine vanilla scent embracing you fully now. If he could freeze the time he would in a snap. He feels like he's all the way back home after travelling shallow through the whole world.

"It's gonna be alright, whatever it's Harry. It'll be alright. You're gonna be alright. It gets bumpy but you still have so much for you." Harry wants to cry in some strangers arms. He feels so defeated and tired. But, the determination and affirmation in your voice made him think opposite. He'll do it. He can do it.

He didn't let you go first. You untageled yourself from him gently swaying on your feet, taking a step back and he couldn't blink his eyes away from you as you bit your crimson lip.

You take steps away from him eyes still locked to his jade ones and he calls you out through the breeze looking for passing by cars if possible because you're standing in the middle of street.

"Hey, stranger!!!" You tilt your chin in a questioning and shake your head at his lopsided cheshire smile, "forgot t' tell ye'r name!" He yells out in rushed anticipation and anxiousness as if he'd loose you if any minute ticks by.

Goosebumps appears at your bare legs from the chill, "Y/N. Y/L/N." Then you spin around raising your hand high atop your head waving it for Harry.

"Ba-bye. Harry." You says loudly but it doom vacuumed to emptiness once you step inside your hotel's lobby leaving Harry at his own sake again.

Standing still at his spot. Hands shoved into his trouser's pocket and long spiral curls framing his sculpted features he watches you with a furrow of his brows from the glass of hotel. His frown getting deeper when you threw your head back laughing when you bumped into your friend who was coming to find you, you caught his wrist eyes widening at something funny he said and Harry sighs thinking maybe you're just this kind and generous and that he's not a special case in your book.

With an exhausted sigh he makes his way towards his bodyguard who gives him a side mishevious eye, "happy now, Styles?" Harry jabs a shove to his bulky shoulder playfully lips twitching and eyes narrowing, "oh shut up!" His mood more lightened and gleeful than his previous one thanks to you.

***

Next day when Kendall and her friend dragged Harry to fancy the local streets of Milan. Harry had a less scowling face than before. They stopped infront of some shop to buy bagels that someone bumped right square into Harry's back making him stumble a little.

It's you. Rushing out of a pharmacy. Harry's gaze trails from your toe to head and his lips parts in surprise. The whole past night in his lonely hotel bedroom you were his dream of heart and the stubborn thought of his mind while the thump of after party going downstairs kept him occupied and fainted the erratic pace of his heart. Then his brows kink in worry and concern at the grueling sight of you.

You're in a pink sweater and pyjamas. Eyes glassy. Cheeks flushed and blazing. Nose running and hair poking out in every direction. He takes a gentle step towards your astonished figure brewing fingers reaching out to hold you but when you keeps a distance from him his heart falls in his arse, and when you cough in your elbow he realizes that you're maybe cold or having a fever.

"You okay, love?" He asks you. Voice that of honey and panic dripping from his features. You gives him a big smile bobbing your head quickly and he have an urgency not to roll his eyes at you. Because you don't seem okay from any angle!

"'M just having a tiny cold it's not that worrisome." Harry's eyes pops out from his socket at your voice. It's groggy and hoarse not that sweet warm honey that was fusing in his ears last night. "Y/N. You can barely speak, are you sure you're okay?" You try to give him a small smile at his care but it got suppressed by another throat tearing cough. Poor little thing. Harry fawns looking down at you.

At this he abruptly saturates the distance between you two, "note me' number, darlin'. Promise me you'd call me if you feel too sick." You give a glance to his two friends coming by to stand beside him.

"Hi." You greet them in hoarseness and they wince when you forward your hand for a shake making you feel ashamed and embarrassed of your politeness when they didn't accepted it. Harry jaw ticks in furiousness as he glares them it's all adding up to push his nerves now.

He takes your shivering hand with an arch of his brow to his friends in challenging sterness noting down his phone number at your palm. You give him a soft "okie." and a "thank you." waving him and his friends a good-bye. He notices that you're not someone to hold grudges against someone. He knows that Kendall's behaviour throws people off but you didn't seem to mind it too much.

"Who was she Harry?" Kendall asks him chewing onto her bagel. Harry shrugs not keen to spill any precise details, "someone I met last night."

She tries to scrape more from him. "How?" Harry closes his eyes tugging at his roots not ready to snap at her.

Harry thinks many times to say the right words so that she'd shut up but still ends up saying something that infuriated her ego and mock, "she offered me ice-cream—" Her friend scoffs perking his head.

"Mate you're nuts for accepting something from a stranger." Logically yes. But you meant no harm to him. Your eyes were truthful and shined with sincerity.

Harry stays silent walking inside their hotel. The hostess asks them if they'd like to have a brunch.

On the other hand you climbed up the stairs to your room with a lazy gait. Your lungs burning. Once inside your room. You takes your medicine with a shivering body and minus energy to even raise your finger. You want to cry but you give a pep talk to yourself that you're a brave girl squishing yourself in your bed, hiding under three blankets.

There's bright sun outside but still you're feeling like someone placed you atop Antarctica's glacier snatching every clothing item from you. Your friends are all out and you wish you could have them. You hate being sick and alone.

When you woke up again. You felt horrible. Feeling like a truck crushed you underneath itself. When you tried to sit up, you fell back a reckless painful sob erupting from your lungs as with wavering fingers you massaged your sweaty forehead. The sheets under you drenched into sweat and hotness. Panic rising in your chest as your vision blurred with blackness so you dialed Harry's number immediately in the fear someone should be with you in case you faint.

"He—" He was cut off with your loud crying. The fork in his hand clanking against the sleek plate gaining everyone's attention. "'S okay. 'M comin'. I'll be there in no time love." He speaks hastily telling his bodyguard not to follow him with a gesture of his hand while striding to his car in big steps.

"Y/N. Darlin'? Yeh' there?" He asks you with his chest tightening with anxiety when the other end of line was dead as grave, "'m, i'm." Your breath spurts into coughs and Harry sighs sympathetically at your condition. It took him fifteen minutes to reach your hotel.

"Which room?" None of you noticed that the phone was still on line. You were half conscious cheeks soaked and smashed into silk pillow case. "Room number, sweets?" He asks you patiently running through different floors to take care of you as soon as possible.

"2-234.." You stutter. Harry halts in the middle of corridor snapping his head everywhere your room was three rooms away from him.

"Can yeh' stand up for me and unlock the door for meh? Can yeh do that sweet girl?" Harry's standing at your door and your sob muffles into your arm when you shake your head in denial. Luckily the door was unlocked.

"Stupid girl." Harry mutters under his breath pressing the red button when he finally tumbles inside your room. He wants to scold you for not caring for your safety when you're sick, fragile and barely able to stand up.

His heart grips into a knot when you turn to your side. The girl he was with last night long gone. Your lips blue and wobbling. Cheeks red and wet. Sweat sheening. Your body shaking. You could be barely seen from under the layers of blankets.

"Oh sweet girl. 'm so sorry." The mattress dips under his weight and he hovers over you taking you in his arms instantly. Squeezing you tight and warm, it feels good so you cuddles your face into the crook of his neck. He gasps when his hand glides down your back and finds it pooling with so much sweat, and you burning like sun outside.

"You're burnin' love." He says with wide eyes cautiously smoothing his hand at your back to make you feel better.

"It hurts, Harry." Harry pulls you from your shoulders rolling his thumb in the dips to massage them, "where?" Your chest rumbles with another whimper as you bolt your eyes shut.

"Everywhere."

He inquires further and you give a drowsy moan when he expertly massages your shoulders and arms, "did you take your medicine?" You nod at this head falling against his chest and if he wouldn't be so worried about your condition his tummy would've flipped so hard.

"And did yeh' ate somethin' befo' that?" When you shake your head in rejection he again pulls you back looking down at you in offend and shock.

"Y/N..." He warns you with a tough expression. Then he cups your cheeks making you look at him even though your eyes are closed he scolds you strictly, "Y/N you should be kind to yourself too."

"Now. 'M gonna take ye' to hospital." He announces and you squirm away from his grip shaking your head like a child. You hate hospitals.

"Y/N..don't be difficult darlin'." Only if he knew he has to deal with this his whole life. As you try to speak your words swallows back when he snakes his arms under your armpits making you stand up.

"No buts. Look at ye'. Yer condition will worsen if yeh' keep refusin' to go." With your whole weight over his side he makes you sit in the passenger seat, stroking your cheek with his knuckles giving you a reassuring smile and rounding to his driver side.

He keeps on checking you through the whole drive. You're still high on fever when he places his palm at the curve of your neck then at your forehead tsking when you moaned in pain, "'s gonna be alright." He rubs your knee trying to give you a smile through his own anxiousness.

They checks you in the ER. The doctor notes your symptoms on his notepad and Harry gazes you in full concentration sitting right beside you, he has your fingers laced with his's and he's continuously rubbing your back to provide you with any warmth.

"I've a very low immune system since I had a tonsillectomy when I was nine. Had an ice-cream last night and quite often I know I get sick in this season." You toy with his silver rings carelessly. Harry admires you. Dunno why. He just do. Because he thinks he might be falling for the way you talk, you behave and try to remain polite in every circumstances.

"Miss Y/N since you've your tonsils removed your coping mechanism from bacteias's less and you've caught a pneumonia." Your head immediately turns to look at Harry and when he sees that fear in your eyes he unwinds his hand from yours leaning to take your chin, "hey...hey lovie'. It's okay you'll heal in a week."

The doctor hands the prescription to Harry. The next thing he announces makes you sob like a five years old, "no. no. no." You shake your head shrinking back and Harry gives the doctor a sheepish akward smile stroking your hair.

Doctor sighs at your behaviour leaving at last, "the nurse will be here soon to give you injections."

Harry quickly stands up shutting the large curtain that's around the stretcher bed you both are sitting at as soon as he comes back you wrap your hands around his forearm. He hisses when you dig your nails to his flesh your tears dropping at his wrists.

"I don't like needles. I loathe them. They scare me." You sniffle and Harry ducks to your level metting your glossy gaze. He caress your head kissing your hair, "you're so brave. I know it. It would just be a pinch. Ye' can squeeze the fuck outta my hand if yeh want to." He has his fingers tucked under your earlobes as he again and again wipes your tears.

The nurse comes to you shutting the curtains behind her. She's old lady in age and observes the couple infront of her. Well, for her you both are looking like one.

You immediately move back to Harry's side as he's sitting now with his front infront of you, "scared of needles." Harry tells her timidly in a low voice puffing his cheeks a bit in gentility.

Harry saps his opal teeth into his lower lip when you wrapped your elbow around the nape of his neck bringing him down closer to you and your face shoved to his chest near his armpit. His other arm wrapping around your waist to flush you closer to him. He tries to drift your attention to himself whispering sweet nothings into your ear and the nurse awes applying alcohol where she has to inject the needle.

"'S okay. We're gonna get home after this, have some soup, will take a nap, watch some telly...." He smoothes his hand over your spine grasping it softly. You stiff in his genial hold twitching and hissing loudly when the needle was poked and pushed into your delicate skin. His white shirt's completely soaked into your tears now but he doesn't give two fucks.

"Just two more." The nurse mutters and you perk your head away from Harry's chest looking at her horrified, "two more!?" You squeak out hiccuping and Harry has to suppress his giggle at your expense from how adorable you look.

He again shoves your head back in his armpit muffling your huffing and tantrums. "Don't move darlin' don't wanna get yeh' hurt." His hold tight and firm.

"Hurts." You pout and Harry traces it stopping himself to just lean down and kiss it. Nurse left you guys to yourself and Harry breaths loudly grinning at you, patting his thighs standing up helping you too.

"Thank you, Harry." You crane your neck to see him properly rubbing your nose once Harry makes sure you're sitting in his car comfortably.

"No problem, love." He kisses your cheek making your lips quirk up for the first time.

***

You're sitting crossed legs on the twin sized bed of your hotel room. Harry takes a quick glance of you pouring soup into some bowl. Your temperature a little bit coming back to normal, sweat still there as you rests your head back at the board of bed. You're room's nothing sort of luxurious it's dinky and compact.

"Here love." Harry hands you the soup making sure to be careful that you don't get burnt and you takes it from him with a series of appreciation.

"Feelin' better now?" He asks you rubbing your ankles as you places your feet in his lap. Blowing onto your soup and he does the same shoving spoonful in his mouth.

"Way better. Felt like dying honestly." Harry couldn't imagine how bad your condition was he saw it himself and he gives you a weak smile, his man-bun getting loose now.

"Where are your friends? they should have known that you weren't feeling well."

"They asked me but—" Harry's low voice cut you off. In just a day he got to know what your nature's like.

"But you didn't wanted to spoil their fun." You roll your eyes playfully wiggling your toes in his lap to tickle his tummy but he catches them making you squeal through sore throat.

He giggles when you slurp purposedly attaching your lips to the rim of your bowl. Once you're full he places your medicine in your palm and when you makes an icky face he gives you a stern gaze, "uh-huh. Take 'em."

When you swallow the bitter medicines down with a huge gulp of water he pats your head, "good girl." He puts the glass at nightstand. Caressing your jaw, "wanna take a nap?" You nod.

"W-would you lay down with me, ...'s just my body aches and—" You tried to explain without letting heat to creep at your cheeks. He bobs his head furiously more than okay to fulfil your wish.

Without any word he shifts gently to your side getting rid of the hair band that was trapping his long curls into a bun, squeezing into twin sized bed with you, "sorry." he quips when you hiss at his cold bare feet touching your warm ones.

"It's okay." You smile up at him moving closer to him. Sheets rustling underneath as you rests your head over his sprawled forearm. Your bodies reacting automatically like one of soulmates when your knee nudged his legs and he parted them so that you could place your sore one in between them. You molded into him like a piece of puzzle, that was just meant to fill the part of him that was scraped out because of his fate leaving him shallow and empty.

"Sorry for ruining your day." You mumble into his neck fingers brushing the baby curls at the nape of his neck. He shakes his head running his thumb in circles under your hair that were sticking to your neck, "No, thank you fo' makin' my day better. 'M havin' fun babying you." You titters at this and he sighs. There's calm. Heart beats in sync. Yours was racing moments ago. You're tangled into eachother's embrace and he pulls thin blanket ontop of both of you.

You purr wishing he could be always with you at how he's a walking talking heater, "you're warm." Harry senses come to a pause at the kitten voice you just let out snuggling into him deeper and exhaling the breath he was holding in. He melts into you kissing your forehead and petting your cheeks.

"Sleep sweet girl." His breathing lulls you to deep slumber.

***

It's late in night. Harry squints his eyes to street lights coming from the balcony window. He groans and when pushes his face away from you, a huge lovesick smile dances at his lips. He slept so good after so long. Your warmth and sweet flesh pressed into him made him drift to sleep so quick.

He brushes your loose hair back, adorning every feature of you. Fever making you look more glowy and swelly. Then when he leans to kiss your forehead he hears the quite whimper escaping from your lips.

He places his hand at your neck to check and you're again burning. Sighing he wakes you up by smoothing his hands down your arm, stroking your hair gently and tapping your cheek with his two fingers.

You're murmuring weepily in your sleep. "Wake up y/n. It's time for your second dose." He keeps his voice slow not to startle you and your eyelids fluttered taking it's time to absorb his presence.

You shift back against the headrest. He brings the glass closer to your lips after giving you medicine. One hand on your head other making you sip water.

"W-wanna go home. Home Harry." You say in your breaths hiccuping and Harry feels so helpless. He tries to calm you down in every way possible.

He knows you're not talking about going back to London. Your talking about your actual homeplace. Then it hits him, that you're both missing that feeling. Even though you're bubbly, happy and cheerful girl you still miss home as Harry does too. You're perfect for eachother.

He takes you in his arms bringing you back to bed. You hug him close to your heart tearing in his embrace, soft whimpers in his ears that's a knife to his stomach. He pecks the side of your head multiple times.

"Home." You sniff eyes dropping. Harry messages your scalp. Your body moving up and down as he breaths. Your continuous blabbering of 'home' dulls to your sleeping breath and Harry's own eyes craved for more drowsiness with you.

He bolts his eyes shut when his phone vibrates under him. "What!?" He spats whisper yelling, you still over him. He doesn't want to disturb you by any means. Not when you're sick and went back to sleep with so much difficulty.

"'M not coming." He declares dryly as his manager tries his best to coax him back to whatever place they want him asap.

He throws his phone onto sheets cuddling back into you, letting your scent to consume him fully. His heart prancing at the thought of serenity he'll feel while sleeping else it's just jolts of anxiety.

***

Next morning your arms were holding onto nothing, there's no shoulder on which you were crying earlier. The room's dull and sheets cold. Sun refused to outshine for today it didn't got any emarld to beam at.

"Harry...?" You whisper innocently rubbing sleepiness from your eyes and when the silence laughed back at your face you sigh sadly.

You knew from the very start that his presence was just a mere touch of heaven and it's not his fault that you never got to complete dive into him.

It's just you and your homesick soul staring blankly at the flower wallpaper. His soft, giddy vanilla smell hugging you from every side. Consuming your body and you didn't realized you'll miss him until now.

Maybe, you and your love was contagious to him.

.

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 a 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞!!! Don't forget to give your feedbacks.

[ray-ray-writings]

No thoughts only Princess Bride au where Sam, Dream or Sapnap (honestly any of them can work take your pick of minecraft boy) is Westley and I'm Buttercup -🍉

Oh gosh 🍉 you’re brain is so big!!!! So Imma use Dream because I have ideas….. Did I basically write the movie in this drabble just changing the names? Yes. Do I regret it? Hell no lol. I hope you enjoy!!! (I added a page break because it’s pretty long lol)

So Clay is a farmhand on your father’s farm that you are absolutely infatuated with. He does anything and everything you ask with a small smirk and an “as you wish”. As you spend more time together, you two fall in love. Clay decides that he needs to go across the sea so he can make a fortune before he can marry you. You beg him not to go, because you love him and he loves you too and that was all you need, but he goes anyway. He leaves you with a kiss on your lips and a promise to always come back for you. But he never did come back. 

News came back that Clay’s ship was attacked by a powerful pirate that goes by the name Dream. The news broke your heart and you locked yourself in your room and swore you would never love again. 

A few years go by and a new King is crowned. King Schlatt bumps into you one day and is stunned by your beauty and immediately declares that you will be his new partner. You try to refuse, but he has none of it. He announces to the kingdom that they will have a new member in the royal family in a few days time. But you knew you would never love Schlatt. After the announcement you went out to clear your mind on a horseback ride. You run into three men who claimed to be lost, and you with your big heart stop to help them but you quickly come to regret it as the biggest and strongest one, grabs you at a pressure point and you pass out. 

When you come to, you’re on a boat and the three men are sitting around staring at you. “Oh good. You’re awake!” One of them cheers, eerily cheery for kidnappers. “I was really worried I grabbed the wrong point but you were breathing so it helped me calm down a little bit… I’m Sapnap!” The big guy introduces himself. “Sapnap!” the shortest one hisses out, “you’re not supposed to tell them our names!” “Oops. Sorry George” ‘Sapnap’ apologizes. “SAPNAP!” The one he called George, “Bad tell him that he’s an idiot!” George shrieks, turning to the third man. ‘Bad’ faces palms at the two in front of him. “Great… Just great… You both have literally told them all of our names” And even though you’re in a really bad position, you can’t help but laugh at the idiocracy of the three. “Oh gosh. If this is how you act, the King and his men are definitely going to find you and when he does, you’re going to be in for it” you laugh, rolling your eyes at the three. They seem to take a little bit of offense at what you say, but George and Sapnap begin to squabble with each other and then Bad yells at them to shut up and everything falls silent. At one point, George asks if they’re being followed and while they’re distracted you take the chance and jump over the side of the boat and begin to swim away from them. But then something brushes your leg and you freeze. “There are eels in the water! Deadly eels that are just waiting to eat you,” Bad taunts from the boat and you begin to panic. An eel creeps up beside you and before it can take a bite out of you, you’re pulled back into the boat by the strong hands of Sapnap. “Are you okay?” He asks softly after he’s sure you’re steady in the boat. You can only nod, too scared to speak. “Good… Just don’t do that again,” he scolds gently. And even though these three have kidnapped you, you can’t help but begin to grow a soft spot for the gentle giant. 

Turns out you were being followed. Sapnap is forced to carry you three up the cliff as a stranger, wearing a green shirt and a white mask, begins to climb the rope behind you. Bad yells at him to climb faster, which doesn’t help, but you make it to the top before the stranger catches you and Bad cuts the rope. The stranger doesn’t fall though, just continues to climb the mountain. Bad instructs you guys to keep moving but George insists on staying behind to kill the man. Bad rolls his eyes, but let’s him and so you three run away, well Bad and Sapnap run because you’re still being carried by Sapnap. 

You three watch as the stranger and George fight beautifully but at the end, the masked man comes out on top, knocking George unconscious and running toward you guys. Bad let’s out a loud yell in frustration and commands Sapnap to give you to him and then demands that Sapnap kill the man by any means necessary. Bad carries you off further down the path before sitting you down and turning to watch the battle between Sapnap and the stranger. He lets out a frustrated yell again as Sapnap is also rendered unconscious. Bad quickly blindfolds you and pulls out his knife and presses it to your throat. “If you take another step closer I’ll kill them!” You hear Bad call out to someone… the stranger. He must not stop moving because the knife gets pressed into your throat further causing you to let out a small gasp and you make an attempt to move away. You listen as the stranger makes a deal with Bad and listen as Bad debates about which cup to drink from. The cup that is laced with the powder that will knock the other unconscious and allow the one that remains awake to get away with you. You listen as Bad toasts and the two drink, and you listen as Bad boasts about being smarter than the other man, only to have his laughter cut short as he falls asleep. The blindfold is removed from your eyes and you meet the beautiful green eyes of the stranger that look very familiar, you don’t get to stare long because he moves away and cuts the binds from your wrists and legs before dragging you away. 

After getting a bit away, the man pushes you into a rock and demands that you catch your breath. As you’re seated, you begin to beg with the man, asking him what he wants and that any ransom he asks he will get. The man laughs in your face and mocks you and your ‘love’. You spit at him that you do not love the King and that you have loved more deeply than he could ever understand. The man scoffs and rolls his eyes before grabbing your arm again and running again. 

Once again, after a while of running, he forces you to sit and catch your breath once more. This time you confront him about his identity, “I know who you are,” you spit out, seated on the rock, “You’re Dream… admit it” The man smirks and gives you a mock bow, “Sure am Your Highness. What can I do for you?” he asks so cockily. You tell him that he can die a most slow and painful death. Dream lets out another laugh, “And why would you wish such a thing.” “Because you killed my love” He is silent for a second before shrugging, “Maybe… I’ve killed a lot of people. Who was this love of yours?” And you can’t help it, but you begin to describe him. You think of his blonde hair, his emerald green eyes, his kind smile and warm heart… Your Clay. Dream then tells you that he remembers Clay. He remembers killing him and how he didn’t beg or plead, he just accepted it but before he died, he told of you and how you were his everything. But then he got really defensive and began to shout at you, calling you faithless and mocking you for getting engaged to the King. You cannot help but scream at him, “I DIED THAT DAY!” You noticed Schlatt’s horses and claim that Dream can die too for all you care and so you push him as hard as you can down the hill. As he’s falling you hear him call the words that you’re love would always say to you, “As you wish!” Your heart aches and you begin to run toward him, only to trip and fall down the hill to. 

Once at the bottom, you lay on the ground, catching your breath. As you do, Clay, his white mask now gone, moves and hovers over you. “Are you okay? Can you move?” But you don’t care about yourself at the moment, “You’re alive” you breathe out, your hand coming up to cup his face. “I told you I would come back, my love. I’m back.” and you just pull him in and press a long and passionate kiss on his lips. Five years of pain and longing and missing your lover pour into the kiss. A warmth that you haven’t felt since you kissed Clay goodbye fills your entire body and causes your toes to curl. “I love you so much” you murmur to him once he pulls back, “I love you too so much more.” 

Once you two get up, you run to the fire swap. You’re a little nervous, but you know that Clay will take care of you. You ask Clay what had happened on that ship 5 years ago. Clay begins to tell you the story of how he became Dream as you two practically dance through the fire swamp. It feels so good to be back in Clay’s arms as he twirls you around trees and fire spurts that shoot up from the ground. The warmth flutters in your heart again as Clay tells you that he now plans on retiring since he found you, his true love once again. You two share a sweet moment and another kiss before you make your way through the dangerous swamp. You have some close encounters, but make it out of the swamp safely…. Unfortunately you two are not alone when you exit. 

Schlatt meets you on the other side of the swamp and you begin to get surrounded by his men and you knew how this would end. “Promise you won’t hurt him if I come with you!” You shout to your fiance. Schlatt makes this promise and you turn to Clay who is looking at you in the utmost shock, “What?” he whispers. “I died the day you died Clay… I could not handle it if you died again” you whisper back to him, “I know you’ll return to me again one day” and then you’re whisked away by Schlatt back to the castle. 

You mope around the castle and Schlatt notices. He blames it on the fact his father is in bad health, who dies later that night, but no one truly believes him. You begin to have nightmares as your and Schlatt’s wedding grows closer. After waking from a particularly terrible one, you run to Schaltt’s office and tell him that you don’t want to marry him, that you want to marry Clay. Schlatt surprisingly agrees, claiming to not wanting to make you unhappy or dead. He agrees to send out a letter to Dream’s ships and if Clay wants you, he can marry you but if he doesn’t to please consider marrying him to killing yourself, to which you agree. 

Days go by and you hear nothing, and you walk into his room and he greets you. He tells you of what is going to happen, but he slips up and you find out that he never attempted to contact Clay. So you yell at him, you insult him, and as you tell him that Clay will always come for you because you love each other, you drive him off the metaphorical edge. He very angrily throws you into your room and locks you in there before storming off. You bang and kick at the door, trying to get out but nothing. Finally you settle yourself by the fire and begin to just think of your true love Clay. 

The sun sets and you are forced to get ready for a wedding you do not wish to be a part of. Schlatt enters your room and helps you adjust your outfit. You tell him once again that Clay will save you. But you find yourself at the altar listening to a priest who you have to try really hard not to laugh at (I am literally thinking of Quackity just using one of his silly voices just officiating a wedding lol). A commotion begins to happen outside and Schlatt begins to panic silently and you can tell. So you taunt him a bit, but then he demands Quackity to call you married “partner and partner” and then you’re dragged to the honeymoon suite. You can’t help but go dumbly because you’re so shocked at the fact that you just got married to Schlatt and Clay didn’t come to save you. As you’re being escorted to your room, you make the decision that you’re going to do it. If you cannot be with the one you love, you’re going to kill yourself. 

You get to the room and pull out the dagger, hold it to your chest, and just as you are about to plunge it into your chest, the sweet voice of your lover calls from behind you, “Are you sure you want to do that, love? I mean I wouldn’t be able to kiss you there if you split your chest open.” You head snaps to the bed to find Clay laying there motionless, but his eyes are trained on you. You throw the dagger on the desk before running over to Clay and throwing yourself down on top of him and kiss him over and over again. “Clay, I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” you apologize after you pull back. His eyebrows raise at the apology, “What have you done now?” “I got married. I didn’t want to, but everything happened so fast that I did.” “It didn’t happen” “Yes it did” “Did you say I do?” “Well no but-” “Then it doesn’t count and you aren’t married. Didn’t say it, didn’t do it… Wouldn’t you say so your highness.” Clay’s eyes drift to the doorway causing yours to follow. There stands a pissed of Schlatt, “You forget one technicallity… Whatever, it will all be fixed in a moment” he declares before drawing out a sword. Then Schlatt and Clay begin a back and forth, with Clay doing most of the talking, his words just confusing Schlatt. After his epic speech, Clay slowly rises from the bed and holds a sword to Schlatt and demands that Schlatt drop his weapon. Fear now swimming in his eyes, Schlatt does everything Clay commands even sitting in a chair. Schlatt even allows you to tie him up extremely tightly.

Suddenly, George walks into the bedroom, surprising the hell out of you. “Where’s Sapnap and Bad?” Clay asks George, causing the shock and surprise to ring further in you, “I thought they were with you!” George responds. Since when were they all friends? A voice calls to you from outside the window. You and George help Clay to look outside and there you find Bad and Sapnap standing next to five white horses. “We found the stables!” Bad calls to you three. “And there were five horses and there were five of us if we found Y/N!” “Hi Y/N!!!” Sapnap interrupts waving frantically to you. A soft grin graces your face as you return the wave to the gentle giant who you def had a soft spot for now. “So we took them!” Bad finishes. You stare at each other for a while before Sapnap holds his arms out and motions to you. You giggle and step onto the window ledge and jump down, somehow completely trusting this giant and his friends who had tried to kill you. Sapnap catches you and gently puts you down on the ground before catching George and Clay too. “Hey, uhhhh… I just wanted to apologize for kidnapping you a few days ago,” Bad claims stepping forward, a sheepish look on his face. “We were just doing what we were hired too… That doesn’t make it right though and we’re sorry.” You give the man a soft smile, “It’s okay. I forgive you… What you did helped me find my love again so it was worth it in the end.” You claim as you turn and cuddle into Clay’s side. Clay grins down at you and kisses the top of your head before pecking your lips. “Alright then… Let’s get out of here.” 

And so the five of you ride off and away from the castle, not really sure where you’re going. You ride for many hours before you finally feel it, the weight being lifted off of your shoulders. You stop and get off of your horses. “I think this might be a good place to settle down,” George claims looking around at the wide open area. “Yeah! I agree!” Sapnap shouts, jumping down beside him. You and Clay also hop off of your horses and move slightly away from the other three. “What do you think, love?” Clay asks quietly. You give a quick glance around before locking your gaze with his, “I think it’s perfect. I want to start our new life here… With our new friends.” A grin graces Clay’s face as his hand comes up to cup your cheek. He moves his face close to yours, so close you can feel his breath brushing against your slightly parted lips. “As you wish”

[luffyrose]

Welp.

We’re here again.

How are y’all?

Good?

Good.

Me?

Oh, I just had a ninth au idea because of a Hadestown song qwq

Alright, here comes the gist and info dump so I can look back and organize this later.

Gods Au!

I actually haven’t seen any of these yet surprisingly but I may just be unlucky lol.

Either way, my take on this concept if you know any others uvu

Techno is obviously referred to as the Blood God but he isn’t an actual God of Blood, he is the God of the Hunt and Fields. He is incredibly good with weapons and has a special power over animals as well as being able to heal and plague humans either directly or through their crops and meats.

He is not the god of harvest though so his powers over the crops can be overthrown if the god of the harvest so chooses. I don’t know who this god is yet.

I bet y’all thought that Techno would be the god of war or something but nope! Heheheh

Oh wait! Tubbo gonna be the God of Harvest. He has a stronger version of Techno’s powers over crops but not over humans directly as he is still a younger god. He also has some power of bugs which is stronger the more closely related to plants the bugs are. So basically, bees are easily his friends and listen to him while spiders would be an equivalent to a cat. They listen in the end, but they’re little assholes half the time.

Philza is the God of Vitality and Plague. He is one of the oldest gods and very kind but is not to be trifled with. The other gods know better than to anger him since he is strong enough to curse even them. They won’t die but they can suffer from his curses, being in constant pain or unable to heal wounds with magic

Wilbur is the God of the Sea and generally stay uninvovled with others, enjoying peace and quiet. He does have a temper when messed with so most don’t interact with him but Philza and Techno did, which mmade their little ‘family’ as Philza became protective over the other two gods. Wilbur can control the sea and storms.

Tommy. Now Tommy is a very very special case because I have no fucking clue what I want for him-

Back track, friend gave me big brain moments boiiizzzz

Tommy is a god, but one that was human before. He isn’t any specific God but gained the title God of Tricksters due to his ability to escape death and the fact that both humans and gods rejected him. He didn’t hate them though, he used their hate as motivation. He has quiet a few powers, all of which’s base level is lower than the true gods. He can control storms to an extent, his actions cannot be prophesied, and is generally stronger than normal even in his human body.

Tommy can shapeshift like the other gods to an extent. He can change to animals with ease but they always have small horns, no matter the animal, never letting him blend in completely. He can’t change his human size. He also cannot change his eyes, skin, or the devil’s tail, horns and wings that appeared when he became a god. He can however change the size of the wings and the length of the tail at will, to which he puts to good use.

Wilbur actually loves the fact that Tommy can control the storms some like he can since neither are the god of weather but have that ability. They bond over it and Wilbur helps him get used to that part of his powers.

Dream is the God of Nations and War. He watches over the humans and their affairs, making sure they don’t attempt to harm the gods as there are ways to weaken and seal them, just not kill them. He is also known as the god of war thanks to watching the humans affairs including the wars.

He would go down and fight with the humans secretly if he ever got too bored so he would get in trouble a lot but became well known. He got to befriend George thanks to traveling to the humans a lot because spirits stayed in crowded areas.

George isn’t a god actually, he is a spirit that Dream has follow him around as a servant. Really they’re good friends but to the more stuck up gods they must appear as otherwise. He has a weaker version of Dream’s abilities and an animal form he can stay in. His animal form is a cat, and he can usually be found on Dream’s shoulders in that form.

Now back to the subject of the stuck up gods. They themselves are not characters. They are just figures that have similar power to Philza and demand or order certain things and most listen out of fear.

There’s no real structure to the god’s and their ranking. Whoever is stronger is feared or respected by the others and that’s it. Along with gods however. There are demons and their are otherworldly creatures too. Hence the next part of this.

Sapnap is a demon but one that was born on the human realm so he was viewed as gifted by the gods. Bad takes him in and helps to raise him before introducing him to the other gods where he becomes friends with Dream and George.

Bad is a God, but a more controversial one that is begrudgingly accepted by others. He is the God of Demons. He gained that position because he was a demon born with the powers of gods. He was gentle though which is why he was begrudgingly accepted instead of sealed away.

To the demons he is known as the Demon King. You would think that he would be overthrown quickly thanks to his calm and kind nature but most demons loved him and those that didn’t were quickly taken out or quieted by the captain of the guard.

Skeppy. He is a manmade demon that is actually quite conniving. Bad and him met fairly early on and became friends so when Bad was declared king and a god, Skeppy declared himself his protector. Even as a protector he still picks on and pranks Bad though.

I have no idea if all of this is making sense to you guys but it is to me XD

UUUHHHHHHHH

My brain is slowly dying rn cuz I got food so I may have to do a part two later with more info.

Please leave me asks on things!!!!! I really want to interact with people and also develop this and other aus more! You can ask something as simple as (using this au as an example) “What’s blah the god of?” to “How did blah and blah meet?” or “What is blah and blah’s relationship?”!! Or even ask questions of how the world works.

I’m desperate at this point for more human interaction qwq

[ginkgomoon]

Cyril- Character Analysis

This post was based on an ask made a while ago concerning Hypnos’ character. I personally think his appearance enhanced the development of the game for the Winter World chapters, additionally with the depth of MC’s character. Hopefully this post will help clarify some things in relation to who he is and why he is important to the game’s progression. Please enjoy his well-deserved character analysis post. And yes- lots of spoilers! Please don’t read if you don't want to be spoiled on future content from Chapters 19+.

“This is the world you wanted.”

Hypnos first appears in the Epilogue of Chapter 19, when MC escapes her dream (the one with the separate routes of the guys) and begins to enter the Winter World through Black Cabin.

A soft hue appeared amidst this world of frozen white. A handsome, elegant young man walked towards me from the mist. Snow fell upon him, but as if he was protected by some force, none stuck on him. For a moment, I felt that this person looked really familiar, but it was someone I’ve never met. His eyes seemed detached, yet full of pity.

“This world’s pretty interesting, don’t you think?”

I did not sense any direct threat from him, but I was also unable to let my guard down.

“Is this not the world you wanted? You were aware of it long ago. No need to go on deceiving yourself.”

His tone was peaceful, but there was a chill to it that made me shiver.

“In this world, time’s been frozen. Everything you fear hasn't taken place. It was not I who made this world, but you. Everything you have experienced is a product of that which you yearn for the most. If everything could start over, if life could return to normal, if none of this had occurred...”

He saw into my heart effortlessly, tearing down each fragile wall I’d made with each word that he spoke.

The man’s gentle expression turned cold. His smile faded into subdued indifference.

“You think everything you’ve experienced is fake? Everything is real. Everyone in this world had sunken into the same dream. We will forever remain in a dream land.”

The man chuckled gently. Snow and wind blurred his form, blurring my vision. -Chapter 19 (Epilogue)

Some people would probably have the reaction of ??? and others would think he’s a new love interest HAHA.

It’s clear that this section of the chapter does not give much insight into his character, his name or who he is all. But, we can (hopefully) tell from what we are given, that he will play an important role in the future since he has an actual VA, and is (quite confusingly) going on about “the world that she wanted”. Though, this will be all cleared up later. From here, he makes small appearances in the next few chapters, which helps foreshadow and gradually help set the final showdown to conclude the Winter World.

While my mind wandered, I accidentally ran into someone in the corner. Even more unluckily, as I retreated backwards I stepped on a slick patch of ice, almost sending me sprawling.

“Careful.”

A light laughter fell on my ears. Before I could react, I was caught by the person I bumped into.

“Are you okay?”

I looked up and was met with a pair of gentle green eyes. A handsome face filled my vision. For an instant, I felt that he was familiar, and the sight of an ice-covered world seemed to appear before me. He gracefully let go of my wrist in a gentlemanly manner, stepped back to a more appropriate distance. -Chapter 20-17

A man walked out onto a rooftop covered with snow and held out his hand, catching a snowflake falling from the sky. The snowflake in his palm turned into an exquisite, white robin with its eager wings spread as if escaping a prison and flying into the sky.

He looked down from on high, surveying the city blanketed in dazzling white snow, a faint smile on his face.

“Truly something to look forward to- a long cold winter.” -Chapter 21-25

At this point, we still don’t even know who this man is. Or if he even has a name! But finally, the chapter after reveals a little bit more to help us come to somewhat of a conclusion about his character.

Chapter 22-5

The automatic vending machine behind me kept repeating the same sentence. I turned around to find that the machine wasn't on the fritz- there was actually someone continually trying to make a payment. I couldn't help but go over to see if they needed help.

A pair of eyes clear as glass turned on me. Although there was a gentle look in his eyes, there was a subtle feeling of distance.

I suddenly recognised that face! It was that famous piano player- Cyril!

MC: “Excuse me, do you need help?”

A hint of warmth suffused his cold eyes, as he gestured in frustration at the vending machine.

Cyril: “Just want to buy a bottle of water, but I don’t know how to use these machines.”

(*Intense vending machine purchase in process*)

Instead, I decided to just point at the app on my own phone and give him a brief explanation, afraid that I would miss my bus.

MC: “This time, I’ll buy for you. This is the one you want?”

Cyril: “Right, thanks.”

When I accidentally brushed against his long, slender fingertip, there wasn’t even a hint of warmth.

MC: “Your hand is ice cold. How about I buy a warm drink for you?”

He seemed a little hesitant, but he gave a slight nod and accepted my proposal with a smile.

The drink thunked down into the dispenser, and before I could react, he already bent down and retrieved the bottle and mine from the machine.

When he extended the drink to me, I realised that at the bottom, there were two kinds of paper, which appeared to be tickets of some kind.

I lifted them up and carefully looked at them. They were tickets to an upcoming and very sold out piano tour. Moreover, this was for the final VIP performance aboard the HMS (Abbreviated for “Her Majesty’s Ship”) Victoria.

He may not look like it, but he’s actually quite a warm, kind person.

The silver haired man watched as the bus drove away, and the drink in his hand turned solid ice without him noticing.

As snow drifted down around him, a faintly perceptible smile formed on his lips.

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

We find out that the young man’s name is Cyril, a famous piano player. During this exchange, Cyril is taking his time to observe MC and how she’s responding to the Winter World. He appears to be genuinely surprised about MC’s display of kindness, even though she’s been tossed out by the men most important to her, and into a foreign world wreaked of havoc.

He lets MC purchase the warm milk tea for him, and they both talk about the most mundane things ever. This may seem like just filler conversations, but actually holds importance because it actually influences how he views the world and MC in the future.

Cyril then uses this chance to extend his invitations to his sold out piano performance on the HMS Victoria. MC thinks he’s “quite a warm, kind person”- to which, we will find out if she’s wrong later. We also can confirm that he is an Evolver as we watch him turn his drink into solid ice, as well as the same man who was left unidentified in the previous chapters.

Chapter 23-13

??: “At this point, we’re all certain that the one behind this “Eternal Winter” is one of our former members.”

??: “Another traitor?”

??: “One with the power to traverse time and construct dreamscapes. There's only one that it could be.”

??: “The traitor code-named Hypnos?”

With those words, a deathly stillness fell over the air, as if some indescribable darkness had stolen into the room.

True name: Unknown. Age: Unknown. Evol: Time travel, dream construction.

Pitifully few clues to go on, not even a single photograph.

Was that person who trapped me in that dream and the traitor the same? If it was true that everything before happened on another world’s timeline, then does that mean this person had jumped through into this world timeline?

??: “Just what is he planning to do?”

??: “Whatever it is, since he’s a traitor to the organisation, it’s bound to be contrary to our goals. We must put a stop to him.”

??: “Continue the investigation. We must find the satellite coordinates. We cannot let him interfere with our plan.”

If this mystery mastermind had such powerful abilities, then what chance do I have at stopping him?

The hexagonal crystal symbol wasn't a major part of their discussion, but it stuck a faint chord with a hazy part of my memory. I finally remembered- that ticket to the concert!

They consider this powerful Evolver- Hypnos, a traitor to Black Swan and the individual behind the Eternal Winter incident. But nobody knows what he looks like. However, MC notices that the hexagon design is seen similar to the tickets that Cyril gave to her for his performance on the HMS Victoria. She now knows that Cyril is Hypnos, then realises that the satellite launch isn’t on land, but on sea. She knows how to stop the winter from spreading.

Here we automatically assume that he’s another Black Swan bad-guy-turned-traitor. What is his true goal? And why does it have to be that handsome piano player, out of all people?

Chapter 24-5

Before we could enter the main hall and check out the situation, a sonorous piano melody was belated through the ship’s speakers over that whole patch of sea.

The gentle tune formed an invisible yet unbreakable net in the air. Everyone in proximity to it became the piano music’s prisoner, unable to escape.

I felt a strong feeling of drowsiness. I tried to stop it but it seemed to have already gotten into my veins. Every cell in my body reverberated with it.

Everyone in the hall was swaying like soulless puppets, and on the stage, Cyril held his eyes slightly closed as he played the last requiem for them.

Chapter 24-7

MC travels to confront him on his ship, and watches him entrance people with his piano playing. This is how he got his code-name “Hypnos”. (Similar to how Kiro can charm and control people). Thankfully, Helios appears, his Evol is powerful enough to command MC to escape this.

“Why can’t a lie... be a good thing, too? Is this not the world you wanted?”

An anonymous voice seeped into my consciousness, accompanied by a dim, far away sounding piano.

The false warmth swooped in, and exhausted as I was, I chose to accept it.

My hand was originally grasping at air, but just then I distinctly felt the touch of something solid and warm. I could faintly feel someone grabbing onto me tight.

I forced open my heavy eyes, and a familiar outline filled my blurry vision.

“K- Kiro...?”

For a second, I couldn’t tell if I was in a dream or reality. His face was in shadow, and those usually sea blue eyes now flashed golden, as beautiful as the night stars.

He shouted at me, loud enough to hear over the inescapable piano music-

“I command you to awaken!”

Although without a hint of warmth, his eyes were like the first rays of dawn filtering through the curtains, melting away the fanciful dreamworld clouding my brain.

-

“I’m not like Ares. I don’t care about any Queen. If you want to influence the outcome, you have to do it your own way.”

Cyril still didn't stop playing, and instead kept moving his fingers across the key in a self-satisfied manner. The audience were completely under the spell of his melody, sunken into the deepest depths of a dream.

A black pistol was pointed straight at him, but the enraptured pianist did not let that stop his performance. Helios wasn’t in a hurry either, waiting quietly for the perfect, culminating core for this piece.

Just as the final note was stuck, Helios resolutely pulled back the tigger. A stream of smoke rose from the gun, but Cyril was somehow unharmed, blocked by an invisible force field.

Helios: “You constructed this dreamscape long before.”

Cyril: “I just don’t want this performance to have any interruptions.”

He rose elegantly from his piano bench and took a deep bow toward the hall absent of applause. Then he sauntered off the stage and looked at me.

Cyril: “You finally came.”

Chapter 24-9

Cyril: “Thank you for teaching me how to use the vending machine.”

I didn't expect him to speak up first, much less did I expect him to bring up that. As if we weren’t staring into the upcoming apocalypse, but just another utterly normal day.

Cyril: “It was you who showed me a different side of life. Although I still think, milk tea tastes better iced.”

MC: “But that doesn’t mean you have to wipe out the people who prefer drinking it hot.”

Cyril: “I think you misunderstood me. Just like you, I love this world. I love the complexity and uncertainty humanity has brought to it. I just think, it just doesn't have to move so fast.”

The smile he had showed- made me believe that from the bottom of his heart, everything he did was to make the world better, and that he should not recover any blame or interference from anyone.

Cyril: “Before one fully understands oneself, power beyond control can only be dangerous. Just like if I were to ask you now, do you truly understand yourself? How would you answer?”

He chuckled at my inability to respond.

The thoughts in his heart were hidden beneath a glacier, and all it showed on the surface was the very tip of it, preventing me from ever getting a clear idea of what he was thinking.

Cyril: “I’ve prepared a little gift for this kind of world.”

A giant steel tower shot upwards and stood tall between the water and sky. The satellite launch tower!

Cyril took hold of my hand and causally moved the key from his own hand. Before I had time to stop him, I saw crystal clear ice form at his fingertips. Pure and unblemished, but also dead. Just like this world before us.

Cyril: “Isn’t this a nice way to end things? This. Is the world you want.”

He then hands MC to press the button for him, then freezes the key to the Black Cabin. Cyril here genuinely believes that what he is doing is good for MC, as he uses the satellite launch platform from the ocean to spread the “Eternal Winter”- the “perfect world”.

Black Swan still pursues evolution of all humanity, but Cyril doesn’t agree with their methods. He knows MC is the Queen and thinks that in this Winter World, this is how she will only grow- without those she loves- if she had not known the boys and everyone she cares about. "If none of those things in the original world had occurred..."

What Hypnos stated reminds me of the Winter World Helios and what he said from when he saved her in Chapter 21.

“The weak should learn to survive on their own. No one will help them. Do everything you can, by fair means or foul. Give up everything in your past… even yourself. If you can’t do that, then go back to the world you came from.”

Which is a little nice touch because Helios appears to save her again with his Evol- but this time, MC is saving the world in her own way. She is not identifying with QUEEN first- but as herself. She had seen and been through so much pain to grow her mental and emotional strength to persevere and save this world with her kindness and love for humanity. MC, herself, has evolved.

Chapter 24-10

Cyril: “Not going to give the button to the launch a push? Perhaps you’ve forgotten, this is only my dream. Any decision you make here won't affect the outside world. Aren't you at least curious? The perfect world I wanted.”

What is the meaning of existence in a world of unrealistic perfection!?

MC: “If I do that, wouldn’t I be like an ostrich, sticking my head into the sand?”

Cyril: “If people found the perfect pile of “sand”, who knows if they’d stick with reality- and choose not to escape? After all, in reality, no one can predict what's going to happen from second to second. But in a perfect dream, everything always unfolds exactly as people desire.”

MC: “I can’t answer that for others. But it shows that the decision for how to answer should be left for each individual person.”

Cyril: “The way I see it, those who have no ability to judge never had the right to choose in the first place.”

Naturally, traitor though he was, he was still like others in Black Swan, holding a disdain for normal people, deep in his bones. When he rebelled against wasn't the thinking of the organisation, but their methods. But no matter which method of theirs it was, they all wanted to force their ideology on the whole world.

Did the world really need their brand of reason? Did humanity really need their idea of progress?

Everything in existence follows its own, original path, with absolutely no need for human intervention. And what I had to do was to maintain this balance.

I abruptly placed the remote back in his hand and told him my final decision.

It’s clear that Cyril doesn’t have that much experience with normalcy or identifies with at least humanity. He believes that it’s better to ignore reality and to live in a dream without the memories of the past or mourn the loss of others. Frozen without emotions, pain, or progress- the “perfect world”.

Chapter 25-4

After MC accepts her QUEEN identity, she finally uses that power to unite all timelines ultimately defeating Cyril, then returns back to the original world. Weirdly, he appears in front of her when she wakes up.

Cyril: “I believed I warned you long ago, no matter what world it is, it doesn't make much of a difference. You assume too much. In this world, I am just like you, a normal person. Think of it… as the price I’ve paid. My choice… was made for you. You were growing too slowly. Maybe that world was best suited for you after all. Too bad, you were too muddled to realise it. This world may soon experience a change, and it’s the kind of change that has nothing to do with you.

Time Subway

Time Subway takes place before Cyril leaves, after MC is hospitalised in Chapter 32. It reveals more about MC’s power and spiritual connection to Loveland City, the rest of the worlds and their timelines.

They meet on the train, though MC can’t remember meeting Cyril before. His piano music continues to play as the train moves backwards. (And that’s the thing about the subway- the train goes in cycles to each station, to the memories and worlds MC has previously lived in.)

Chapter 5

MC: “This train is really strange. It’s going backwards.”

Cyril: “Does the direction really matter? Though, I’ve never been on a subway train. Perhaps, there are a few imperfections.”

MC: “How did you get on the train?”

Cyril: “Same as you, I guess.”

MC: “Do you know where this train is going?”

Cyril: “To a place you want to be. So embrace your imagination. Think of everything you ever wanted. Eventually we will arrive at the perfect ending you’ve longed for.”

Chapter 6

MC: “I feel like I’m forgetting something. My memory has been foggy ever since I boarded this train.”

Cyril: “You do know me. You have to recall those memories on your own. Do you want to remember everything? Or, do you prefer to give up the past and start again right here?”

Cyril seemed to be hinting something, I felt that he’d always use such implicit language, but I couldn't remember when…

Chapter 7

Somehow this train gave me a sense of security. I could feel a familiar resonance between us. As if it was closely linked to me in the first place.

A thought slowly came to my mind, maybe I could decide on its direction at some point in time.

MC: “Why do you want me to go to the past?”

Cyril: “Back to when everything hadn’t taken place, isn’t that what you wanted? I’m only doing this for you. Sorry I didn’t ask for your permission. But you’ll be my best work.”

Chapter 8

Cyril: “This world belongs to you. My power doesn’t work here. I’m nothing more than a normal person in the real world. I’m going to use my power one last time. And this will be my final work. A perfect world is still what I’m after. It was you who broke free from the world I created. You showed me my limit. Indeed, the power triggered by your emotion outshined my skills. That’s why I chose your spiritual world, as the raw material of my final work.”

MC: “So this is just an infinite cycle within my spiritual word, isn’t it?”

Cyril: “I won’t say you are wrong. In this train, you can choose any stop and choose any exit you want. When you step out, this world becomes more complete. Meanwhile, this dream will continue the everlasting cycle, which is also your karma.”

MC: “So do I stay here?”

Cyril: “You can choose to leave… if you have the power to battle yourself. If you leave, this world will continue to exist all independent from all time space.”

MC: “How do I leave?”

Cyril: “You have to discover that for yourself.”

MC: “...Cyril, I need to go. If there’s really a perfect world you want, just take this world as my gift to you.”

Cyril: “I see, thank you... If only you could eventually put an end to this cycle.”

Chapter 32-1

Cyril- “I came to say goodbye.”

MC: “All that stuff that happened to me after losing my Evol has something to do with you. Starting from when “I ran into you” on the train, it was all a part of your plan.”

He smiled slightly, met my hostile gaze without a hint of displeasure. He didn’t deny it, but he didn’t admit it either. There was an undercurrent of tension to the stillness, but also some unusual and subtle peace.

This pianist… I’ve never seen anyone so out of touch with the world.

MC: “The vending machine, the scammer in the square, thorns on a flower, you don’t have much experience with everyday things, do you?”

Cyril: “However, it really has been a long time since anyone’s talked with me about such things.”

I may have been imagining it, but I seemed to detect a hint of nostalgia in his voice.

MC: “Just what are you after, coming here to see me like this?”

As he spoke, he reached out and put his hand at the back of mine. His fingers were ice cold.

But in this brief moment, a flurry of images flashed before my eyes.

Four white walls, an empty room, a triangular piano of translucent crystal placed in the corner. The figure of a man gradually emerged before the piano bench.

His thin graceful fingers danced daintily across the keys as snowflakes fell upon him and settled undisturbed.

That gentle piano melody reverberating in the shadows also came out as a muttered groan from the girl as pain hit her.

Suddenly, the piano playing intensified, the tempo building to a frenzy like a subway train rattling through a tunnel.

I saw a boy get up from the piano, walk to the front of the stage, and take a bow to the thunderous roar of applause.

The scene shifted. The boy was once again standing in the gloomy storm, holding a white rose to his chest, listening in silence to a priest delivering a eulogy.

??: “Keep playing, Little Cyril. Use your power and help Mummy make the perfect world.”

Cyril: “A perfect world… I’ve got it.”

I saw his past, present and future. I saw the boy slowly growing up and playing that final melody in the centre of a frozen plain. He played tirelessly, as if he’s trapped inside in a world of memory.

Cyril: “Can you tell me what you saw?”

In those crystal clear eyes, I saw my own expression, and there was an ineffable expression of sadness to them.

MC: “Is a perfect creation… really that important?”

Cyril’s eyes were flat, like the negative space in an ink wash painting.

Cyril: “The sad fact is that they will never be able to achieve it.”

MC: “But absolute perfection doesn’t exist. Everything has blemishes and faults. But that doesn’t mean that they’re not good enough, and it certainly doesn’t mean that they don’t have a right to exist in this world.”

Cyril: “Perhaps. You’ve certainly proven that point yourself. One final thing before I go, of course, you can choose not to believe it. Perfection has never been an illusion; everything in this world has a singular, perfectly-suited exit. Although, I think you already found it.”

MC: “Where are you going?”

Cyril: “A world that belonged to you, but now belongs to me. Thank you for the world you’ve given me, and the interesting memories. And that bubble tea, I quite like the flavour.”

His words fell softly, as if shrouding me in a tranquil, pure white dream.

Upon seeing his past, present and future, all that MC sees is Cyril playing the piano. It turns out, his true motivation for creating the “perfect world” was for his mother when she passed. With MC’s help, he finally admits that it cannot be achieved. He isn’t directly hostile like the other Black Swan members either, and calmly admits his defeat and accepts MC’s decision.

Behind the Curtain- 6 (Chapter 28)

??: “If you want to see it, go. The door being opened will be closed soon.”

The black box grows bigger, and fills the entire vision in black-

Cyril: “Do you know the origin of the name BLACK SWAN?”

I see an elegant young man standing inside a luxury gift shop. There, piano pieces are playing. He looked down at me. The black box reflects in the cool eyes looking a lot like snow.

MC: “Am I inside the box?”

Cyril: “BLACK SWAN” is a word that means an unexpected event. Humans have no way to predict the impact of the event. When I first heard their name, I immediately saw the appeal. I also wanted to be a part of it. But…the majority of them still live in this illusion. Only a few were aware that humanity is ignorant. They can't help me to complete my work.”

While speaking, he pressed the crystal piano keyboard. The jolting sound echoes—

Cyril’s Mum: “With your power, continue this and please show me the perfect world.”

The woman lies on bed, looking at him with those beautiful eyes that looked a lot like that boy’s. There’s no strength in them.

Cyril’s Mum: “For one last time, I want to experience the beauty of this world with my whole being. That’s also the reason for your existence.”

The boy then grows up in the snowstorm and turns into an innocent boy. His outline became sharp, becoming an elegant young man.

The snowy wind pushes the window open and surrounds his mother. She then transforms into white snow and suddenly disappears.

The man doesn’t notice the occurring snowstorm, but instead concentrates on the graceful piano playing.

A piece of glass shatters and lands on the piano. The young man engrossed in playing keeps an eye on the keys.

MC: “Look out!”

The piece of glass cuts the young man’s long finger. A line of blood flows, on the skin like ice and snow.

The young man finally stops. As if time had been frozen, the lingering sound of the piano remained in the room covered with heavy snow.

He looks up. Like an innocent puzzled child who touched the piano for the first time, those eyes come into mind.

Cyril: “Who…are you?”

MC: “...who am I?”

Cyril had been stuck all this time within his memory of his promise to his mother- in pursuit of the “perfect world”. His world was biased upon thinking that humanity- even Evolvers, were ignorant and unable to help him achieve his goals. This demonstrates the divide and individuation between each Black Swan member of not being able to work together effectively to achieve the collective goal- of the “New World”.

It was nice to see MC being able to overcome her self-doubt and enter Black Cabin by accepting the QUEEN title in a world so foreign to her. Her hope, love and determination had saved the world again. Cyril played a huge part in this chapter of her life, almost like prepping her for the final prophecy of fate.

And “Doomsday” is coming.

[flamingo-writes]

Zoro x reader! They've been traveling companions for a year before they met Luffy and became pirates, so they're close to each other. S/O fell in love with Zoro but he rejects her, so they stayed as close friends. Then, after 2 years passed, S/O is still friendly to him and the others but seemingly moved on while Zoro's love for her grow, and while he was still ambitious towards his dream, he felt so lonely as he watched S/O move on, even if she's happier than before.

Hello!! I’m so sorry for the late response!! 

From the moment I read this request, I fell in love with it!! It took me a while to write it, but here it is!! Let’s go! (I slipped a bit of Law x Reader to add to the angst, I hope you don´t mind XD) 

Word count: 1.6K

Warnings: angst

Posted: 06.05.2020

Unique Kind of Pain — Zoro x Reader / Law x Reader

It didn’t matter how much time Zoro spent training, it never seemed to be enough. As soon as he got down from the crow's nest, and he saw you there, it instantly hurt. Almost as if someone poked his heart with a needle, it stung. Constantly. His decisions haunted him, and were slowly carving a whole in his chest. 

The sight of you was unbearable. And it pained him. Seeing his best friend should not hurt this much. And yet, the weight of his mistakes seemed to follow you everywhere. Your smile, the warmth of your skin, the sound of your voice. Oh, the sound of your voice when you called his name. 

“Zoro! Come see this! Look what Ussop did!” 

That same gentle voice that had been calling his name for several years now. He remembered he sometimes found it annoying. The way your voice pronounced his name when you were angry. The concern, when he got injured. The annoyance when you got lost and were looking for him. Back then, he disliked the ways your voice called his name. But now, each and every single time you called his name felt like a cursed blessing. 

He wiped his face with the towel, as sweat kept falling from the intense training. His heart shrunk at the sight of your smile, your eyes reflecting fascination at Ussop’s newest project. 

“You’re amazing, Ussop” 

“Thanks, [Name]!” Ussop giggled. 

He could hardly concentrate on Ussop's new additions to his slingshot, as he was distracted by you. Your smile radiating fascination as it shone all the way into your eyes. The sweet smell of your hair that now haunted him in his sleep. 

Over time, as his feelings for you grew and grew, things got worse. Little by little. It hurt. But it wasn't so bad. Not yet at least. 

At least not until the whole Dressrosa chaos was over. In Punk Hazard, Zoro could tell Law was being particularly friendly towards you. But he could easily ignore that. God knows what happened in Dressrosa. For a fair amount of time, you stuck with him, fighting side by side. And suddenly, you were gone. 

Back in the Sunny after whatever shit show Fujitora tried to pull before you left. Everyone was on the ship and it was only you who was missing. Zoro's heart was in his throat, wondering if you were alive. 

A series of conflicting feelings overwhelmed him at once when you ran across the deck and jumped into the ship. A cheeky laugh escaped your breathless lips as you apologized to your crewmates. As your eyes scanned the Sunny, they stopped when you saw Trafalgar Law, rather weak, sitting on the grass.

"Law!" You sprinted one last time towards him. 

Falling in your knees as you slid a few feet, colliding with the doctor and wrapping your arms around Law. 

"Oh god, you're fine!" You said breaking the hug and looking at him. "Your arm! You got it back" 

"Yeah. I was not going to lose my arm. Fuck that" He chuckled "You dissapeared, I was worried" 

"I went looking for Luffy...sorry" 

"It's okay, you're fine and you're here" One of his long hands brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, lingering on your cheek as you leaned into his touch, looking into his grey eyes. 

The whole scene, while for most of the strawhats looked rather adorable, for Zoro ir was unbearable. 

A sting pinching his heart, as well as an uncomfortable twist of his guts suddenly angered him. Not angry at Traffy. Zoro knew it was childish to get angry at him. He was angry at himself for digging his own grave like this. He wished he was the one in your arms, and not Law. He wished he had corresponded to your feelings back then.  

Without saying much, he turned around and left. Drowning himself in yet another intense training. Probably more intense than before. His mind constantly picturing you in Law's arm, his imagination torturing him, playing him. Picturing you kissing him, clinging to him, as his hands roamed your body, whispering sweet nothings back and forth in each other's ears as you were both consumed by desire. 

The sweat puddling on the floor didn't seem to be enough. The strain in his muscles and the fatigue weren't enough to stop his head from wildly betraying him. 

"Oi! Zoro!" Franky called, cheerfully climbing the ladder to the crowsnest. "Robin says dinner is ready! Since sanji isn't here, she cooked for us tonight" 

TFrabky's fatherly instincts needed a single glance at Zoro to notice he was pushing himself way too much. 

"Zoro? Aren't you overworking yourself?" 

"I'm fine," Zoro grunted, doing another sit up with a bar and weights on his shoulders. 

"No you're not!" The cyborg hurried to his side. "Stop that, if you injure yourself, Chopper not only will get mad, but you won't be able to work out for a while!" He begged as Zoro growled lowly and put the weight on the floor before sitting down on the ground "Don't you feel like everything hurts?" 

"That's precisely the problem"  Zoro whispered to himself, however Franky managed to listen clearly as day.

"What?" 

"Nothing" Zoro answered.

"Do you feel alright?" The swordsman looked at Franky, noting Franky was being insistent.

"Yeah. C'mon. Let's go" Zoro shrugged.

"Zoro, don't lie to me. I know something's bothering you" Franky said louder than before.

"It's nothin'" 

"Its [Name], isn't it?" 

Zoro stopped dead cold at the entrance of the crowsnest. He glanced at Franky over his shoulder.

"I noticed the way you were looking at her when she ran to hug Law" Franky said. "If you like her why don't you tell her?" 

"I can't" 

"Of course you can! Aren't you guys best friends?" Zoro glared at Franky, feeling somewhat annoyed, and also desperate.

"It's more complicated than that" 

"Talk to me, kid" Franky said, resting one of his huge hands on Zoro's shoulder. 

He took a deep breath, thinking. He'd never talked to anyone about it. When you confessed your feelings for him back in Thriller Bark. He wanted to keep it a secret, but his body urged him to let all those intrusive thoughts out. Maybe talking to someone would help him soothe his nerves instead of intensively working out. 

"After dinner," Zoro said. 

He wanted to buy some time, maybe put his thoughts in order before talking to Franky. 

Strangely enough, what normally felt like a blink of an eye,the usual chaotic dinner scene now seemed to go by in slow motion. 

On one hand, his thoughts seemed to float around the room, shapelessly, and without an order. His mind was a total mess. Ten times more chaotic than the traditionally loud strawhat mealtime.

On the other, your flirty playful game with Law. You were talking to him, not really minding the other conversations taking place in the kitchen.  His arm was around your shoulders as the both of you were deep in your conversation. Zoro could tell how your "mindless" playing with his hand wasn't so mindless. 

After dinner, Zoro politely waited for Franky to be done and the both of them left the kitchen without saying much.

Zoro told Franky the whole story. Normally, he'd like to go straight to the point and keep the details to himself. But talking to someone about it, felt so liberating, all of his thoughts left his lips without second thoughts. 

Franky listened. Carefully. And very rarely interrupted Zoro to ask something. In the end, he remained silent for a few moments, letting all the information sink in and drawing conclusions.

"I still think you should talk to her. Maybe she'll get mad, considering the circumstances. But she still deserves to know. Especially because it's bothering you this much" He began "Even if she gets mad, she's your friend. I've seen you guys fight and yell at each other, and half an hour later, see you guys laughing as if nothing happened" 

"I don't know…" The swordsman whispered

"Think about it…" 

Zoro sighed loudly, looking at the moon shining bright close to the sea. 

A set of silhouettes left the kitchen into the deck. Not noticing Zoro and Franky, Law and you made it to the edge, looking at the moon and the stars. 

Zoro watched, silently, feeling his burdens weigh on his shoulders heavier than all of the weights up in the crowsnest.

It didn't take long for Law to place a hand on your waist, as you spun on your toes looking at him. Unable to hear what you were saying back and forth, Zoro could tell where this whole scene was going to end up. 

It didn't take long for you to stand on the tip of your toes, and for Law to leane down. Any trace of space was gone. The both of you trapped in a kiss Zoro craved. 

He felt nauseous and light on his feet. He turned around, unable to keep watching as you wrapped your arms around Law's shoulders. 

"I'm sorry, Zoro" Franky whispered upon   witnessing the scene.

"I am too…" Zoro said defeated. "I'll talk to her tomorrow, I'm off to bed now".

"Goodnight, kid," Franky said looking at Zoro as he silently made his way through the deck to the guys' room.

"Night, Franky" He whispered, not helping but peek once more, as Law had you in his arms, kissing you passionately. 

It hurt. It hurt as bad as it hurt when he realized he had feelings for you. And hurt like the pain your eyes reflected when you confessed to him back in the day. It hurt like the realization that you had moved on whereas he had fallen for you. And boy, what a unique kind of pain that was. 

[fbfh]

hello, bluebell (leo x fairy!reader)

genre/vibe: soft fantasy/the gentle etherial vibes of the princess bride and pixie hollow (books and game)

word count: 1.6k

pronouns: they/them - gn reader - probs some fem vibes cause i was imagining my fairy daydream self while writing this lmao

au: you’re a fairy but no others 

pairing: Leo x fairy!reader

requested: nope, just obsessed w fairies bc who isn’t

warnings: brief mentions of memory gaps, a few mentions of caterpillars and other bugs, you wake up in the woods somewhere, mentions of changlings

summary: leo trips over a stranger sleeping in the woods, and know they’re something else because of their etherial aura. And the fairy wings. That was a pretty clear sign too.

reccomended songs: aventurine - paul baker, fairy garden asmr ambiance

a/n: baby stepping back into the writing game babeeeeyyy aLsO if you played the online pixie hollow game or read mary engelbreit magazines or watched the princess bride growing up i wanna give you a double high five also jfc how many more times can I say fairy in a description lmao

 requests r open xo

When Leo left Bunker 9 to take a (long overdue) break from his current projects, he didn’t expect to almost trip over someone lying under a tree. He had begun walking to the dining pavilion as usual, when the smell of wild violets engulfed him in a passing breeze. He slowed down a little, taking in the beautiful August morning, and felt his mental to do lists melting away. Time seemed to slow down as he looked up at the sunlight glinting through the trees, his eyes falling on a cloud he decided looked like a giraffe in a suit.  The sight made him laugh softly. Gods, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone cloud watching. Sun broke through the trees, and he looked down at a bush with little red berries as warm tingles danced over his skin. Light bells rang in the distance, and he looked around for the source. He stopped, eyes falling on a small inchworm. 

“Hey little guy,” he said softly, waving to the insect. He smiled to himself again, noticing the large patch of clovers he was passing through, a strong sense of peace settling through him. His eyes instantly began scanning the patch, debating being a little more late to breakfast to see if he could find a four leaf clover, when he tripped over a foot, and narrowly avoided stepping on a few innocent mushrooms growing in the ground. He felt himself get snapped out of the relaxed cloud that had engulfed him moments before. He caught himself, and looked down. Gods, who would nap this deep in the forest? He was about to nudge you awake, when he saw you. He staggered back a step, breath catching in his throat. 

You were laying on your side, eyes closed, soft lips parted gently. Mid morning sunlight glinted off your hair and skin, giving off a surreal glowy effect. Your white flowy pajamas had dirt smudged on the hem, one of the straps beginning to slip down your shoulder. The light weight material fell around your legs and spilled onto the ground like sea foam reaching for the shore. A butterfly sat on your head, tranquilly opening and closing its wings.  He took a few more steps, careful not to step on the mushrooms that seemed to surround you, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw your back. Caterpillars had spun silk all over your upper back, connecting to the tree. He felt like he should do something, but before he could begin to think of what, three crows started cawing from the branches of the tree. He walked back over to see if the harsh noise had woken you, but you didn’t seem to move. He let out a sigh of relief a little too soon, as he watched your eyes flutter open. 

You took in a deep breath of forest air, and your eyes opened, trying to take in your surroundings. Your head spun with violins and harps and flutes, and your body felt heavy. Sense crept in and you tried to piece together how you’d gotten here. What had happened last night? You struggled with gaps in your memory for a moment, before trying to get up. Your palm slipped on a patch of moss, and you caught yourself on your elbow. In an instant, someone was right beside you, helping you off the ground. He was beautiful; like a beam of light, he seemed to fill you with warmth and life instantly. He smelled like woodsmoke, and his touch was gentle on your arm. You became aware of a very dull, almost soft burn on your upper back, but your attention turned back to the boy as he started talking. 

“Are you okay?” his voice was like the crackle of a bonfire.

“Uh,” disorientation was still fogging your mind, “yeah, I think so.” He helped you into a standing position, a hand in yours, the other still on your arm. You felt stiff and sore enough to wonder what you had been doing. 

“How did you get out here?” he asked, his tone a distinct blend of amusement and confusion. 

“I don’t know… I probably just-” memories flooded back; moonlight caressing your skin, beautiful music you couldn’t quite remember, fireflies guiding your arms and legs as you danced and danced and danced, drunk on the movement.  You shook your head, snapping out of the sudden train of thought. 

“Um, probably just wandered here by mistake.” you finished the half truth with a laugh, “My apologies,” you continued, “is this your property? I can leave, I didn’t mean to intrude,” He looked at you for another moment before speaking again.

“Oh, no, nothing like that. We usually don’t get a lot of… visitors. I’m-” You felt some kind of rush building up inside, like what a venus flytrap feels as a beetle is about to land. 

“I'm y/n," you cut him off suddenly, pulling away, and the feeling immediately began to subside. You waited in near silence for a moment, then chose your words carefully. 

"What do you like to be called?"

"Leo…"

You turned a little on your heels, wondering what had come over you as his voice trailed off. He stared behind you for some time, let out a soft oh, then tore his eyes away and back to you.

“There’s someone you should meet,” you agreed, slightly confused, and he began to guide you through the forest. After a few minutes he brought you out to an open field. He left your side for a minute to tell a passerby something about sending someone over, you couldn't be sure, then continued leading you over the grassy expanse. You went past a very old looking building, over a small footbridge, and onto the porch of a house. 

“So…” you started, unsure where the sentence was going, “who is it that I’m supposed to meet?” The burning on your back had subsided to a pleasant tingle right by your shoulder blades. A breeze brushed your cheeks, and you could smell strawberries - lots and lots of strawberries. The idea excited you. 

“The director of this camp. He should be able to explain -” his eyes hovered just behind you again, “everything.” You wished he would talk more, you loved the lilt of his voice. You wondered what this director would need to clear up, your eyes falling on a scatter of rainbows cast on the floorboards of the porch. You tried to turn to see what was making them, maybe a hummingbird feeder or a light catcher - you’ve always loved stained glass - but when you began to spin on the balls of your feet like you’d done a thousand times before, there was a strange resistance. You spun slower on the wood, and lost momentum. In an effort to catch yourself, your foot caught on the leg of a patio chair, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to stop the fall. The spike of adrenaline made your back burn more, and you braced yourself for impact. An impact that didn’t come. 

This didn’t make sense. You should have been falling; you were barely touching the ground. Instead, you were suspended midair. You opened your eyes to your outstretched arms, and glanced down curiously. You were pitched forward, one foot barely making contact with the wooden floor, the other tucked behind it, frozen mid fall. Shifting rainbows and prisms seemed to light up the whole floor now. You became aware of the strange wind rushing around your face and hair, and saw Leo staring behind you again, with that odd, fascinated look on his face. You looked behind you and let out a startled gasp.

Wings.

Big, beautiful, iridescent wings that looked sort of like you had stolen them from a dragonfly fluttered behind you keeping you in place. Your arms fell and you straightened up, feet gently making contact with the ground as your wings slowed to a stop. 

“Ah, hello,” came a man's voice from behind you, “I haven’t met someone as special as you in a long time. Please, come inside if you’d like.” He ascended the stairs. You felt like you should have been more surprised to see he had the bottom half of a horse, but it didn’t seem to phase you. Then again, you weren’t one to judge.

“Just one moment,” Chiron said, pulling Leo aside, and once out of earshot, explained the significance of you and your appearance at camp. He took a moment to process this.

“A fairy,” he breathed, mind reeling.

“A changeling from the looks of it. A fairy raised in the human world. They’ll need help navigating this new world, finding out about themself.” Leo nodded, remembering how confusing things were when he was first thrown into a whole other side of his life. He looked through the crack in the door, watching you nibble on a snack cake drizzled in honey. Chiron looked at him watching you, infatuation on his face. He put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. 

“They deserve an explanation. Would you like to help with this, er, complicated conversation?” Leo thought back to when you had taken his hand, the way your laugh sounded like bells, the way the corners of your mouth never seemed to drop. The idea of going to the dining pavilion, continuing on with his life as if he’d never met you seemed impossible. He knew in that moment leaving you wasn’t an option. 

“Of course.” He answered, more sure in that moment than he had been of anything.

[falllingstyles]

Spreading you open is the only way of knowing you

Y/N isn’t quite ready to be with Harry the way he wants, resulting in many nights of unspoken words and sweaty bodies. 

2.5k words // TW: mentions of sex and minor mistreatment (can’t exactly call it abuse but it wasn’t love or an appropriate relationship)

The cacophony of noise from the city below was no match for what had echoed from the walls of Y/N’s flat for the past twenty minutes. She was sure she would be quite embarrassed to see her neighbors the next morning with the noises that were undoubtedly loud enough to be heard through the walls. She was even more embarrassed by the thought of them not even being phased anymore. But her discomfort was worthwhile as they all kept their mouths closed. 

The sight of Harry Styles frequenting her front door was something they saw quite often, and the shock of a massive celebrity leaving out the same door the next morning had worn off over the past few years. Meeting the year of his second to last tour with One Direction, the two had grown close behind closed green room doors and over long phone calls. But it wasn’t until he left the band that Y/N had noticed a change between them. It was quite crazy to think of how that change let them to their position now.

Y/N laid on her bed, basking in the shadow that Harry’s body created, watching his chest rise and fall as he slowly fell back onto the sheets. Taking one last moment to right himself, he ran his hands through his hair, despite it being far too obviously unkempt to pass as simply bedhead. After seeing his hair look so many different ways over the years, his hair after her hands ran through it was easily the best looking, but she’d never admit it.

He looked down at her, finding her stare within seconds as he always did. His eyes had become such a comfort, that it was hard to picture a night without them roaming over her body like they had done for years now.

His smile, ever-present, was different. His eyebrows slightly furrowed, Y/N could tell he was thinking hard. Struggling to find the words he was searching for, Y/N simply ran her hands along his bicep, hoping it would bring him some solace.

“I’ve, uh, got to go to Bath next week to work on something I wrote a little bit ago.”

Y/N perked up. “A song! You’ve written a song!”.

He giggled a bit, “Well it is my job.” The nerves washed over him again, the song he had written wasn't something he really wanted to have to explain to her. The inspiration coming after a difficult night they had spent together while on a break from his first tour. “But, me and some guys found a great studio there and I think it’d be nice to hash it out with them.”

Y/N propped he head up now, closer to Harry’s lips than he thought he could handle. “For a second album?” She whispered, trying to hide her excitement at the possibility.

Trying his best to conceal the truth - behind both the prospect of a second album or the fact that it was entirely thanks to her - but ultimately failing, Harry nodded. Y/N didn’t even bother to cover herself up, leaping from her position under the sheets to straddle Harry, whispering about her excitement.

He lifted her off his torso and more onto his chest, with the anterior motive of not being able to handle another round of her body atop his waist, and basked in her excitement.

“That’s wonderful Harry, I'm so happy for you. How fun! A new album, more pretty suits, more touring.”

“Maybe you’ll come along for more of it this time”. He asked apprehensive, not being able to muster the courage to look into her eyes.

Y/N moved further from his body, letting out a small laugh. “Me?”

“Me?”

It was obviously not the response he was expecting to hear, such was evident in his rapidly falling smile.

“Who else?” He asked slowly.

“A real date?”, she asked.

“Yeah,” He said, his confidence from only a few moments earlier almost completely gone, “At the place Ben was telling us about.”

“That restaurant is always jam-packed with people, I don’t think-”.

“We don’t have to go to that restaurant, there’s a nice trail-”.

“A trail? Harry, I’m not quite sure I could...”

Fumbling over every word made the thoughts race through her head even faster. Not a single cohesive idea was around long enough before the fear of being seen shot it down. The cameras, the fans, the press. She could see the headlines now, ones calling her a slag and a gold digger, the posts making assumptions about her and her relationship with Harry. Comparing her to his past girlfriends, the girls with ultra-slim waists and perfect pouts.

“It’s alright we don’t have to do anything big, I just wanted to-.” He muttered whilst reaching out to caress her thigh. A nervous habit she noticed he had over the past two months since she met him.

“No, we can’t do anything.” She said louder, cutting him off again. Her breathing became heavier, and the feeling of his eyes on her was unbearable.

The ‘anything’ that he was referring to was a broad range, one in which they both were scared to breach the subject of. Admit that they had both thought of some sort of future together, in which all their worries melted away with a simple touch. A future full of late nights and hectic mornings, picking children up from school, eating a big dinner, and asking how their days went. A future that started with a date, and led to many many more.

After a long pause, filled only with the sound of their heavy breaths, he whispered; “You don’t want to go out on a date with me?

“I can’t”, Y/N choked out.

“You don’t want to be with me?” She could see the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“I do, I just can’t”.  Just the same as she couldn’t tell him how deeply in love with him, that every beat of her heart was for him. She loved him, but what came with his heart wasn’t something she could carry.

“Nobody has to know, no one but our friends. I know you don’t like the paparazzi but-“

“What kind of relationship would that be! We just fuck in private and pretend we don’t know each other in public?”

Funnily enough, it was exactly what they ended up doing. When you researched ‘Y/N L/N’ online all that came up was her name and photo from the ‘about us’ page of the production company she worked for, just as she liked it.

If you really looked hard enough in the foreground of a few photos of Harry taken at restaurants or beaches you could spot her, but her face among their sea of friends wasn’t one worth recognizing. Despite Harry saying otherwise. He didn’t often pay attention to the people who called themselves fans of his when they picked apart the photos transpiring from invasive cameras with too bright flashes. But when some would pick up on a glance between the two of them, a grappling of hands, or a stolen smile he couldn’t help but dwell on it. He understood what simply being seen with him brought upon her, but is he too optimistic for thinking she’d ever be willing to endure it for him?

It was easy for Y/N to ignore the fact that their relationship, or whatever it was called, had become exactly what she didn’t want it to be. The moments in which she would look at him and wonder what it is they were doing would end as his lips would be on hers in an instant.

It wasn’t that they didn’t have anything else to do, they spent a very long time as nothing more than friends and they undoubtedly had fun. Being able to wander the halls of arenas, gorging on expensive foods in restaurant back rooms, and jumping off yachts. Until things became - complicated - they never doubted their friendship. There were no secrets that they hadn’t whispered to each other under the cover of a starry night. Or so they thought.

Y/N couldn’t believe what they had done, not that she could bring herself to fully regret it, but having sex with her best friend for the past three months - even after she turned him down - was something she could never have imagined. She had sat at his kitchen island many times beforehand, but never after having just been underneath him. She watched as he meticulously placed the cheese for his quesadilla at the stove in front of her. He had insisted he make them a small meal after she had mentioned hardly eating much of a dinner.  

Harry had always taken very good care of her, but this was different. He always paid for meals no matter Y/Ns resistance, invited her to parties with his hot shot friends, and gave her gifts she never felt she fully deserved. But this wasn’t something she had ever really had before, this realization being so profound that she told him. He grinned, now focusing on chopping the onions. The sizzling in the pan filled the kitchen, filling the void of silence that Y/N was debating breaking.

“Ryan was never so … gentle with me”.

The sizzling continued, but Harry paused. After Ryan had broken up with Y/N she had spent the proceeding two weeks at his flat watching shitty TV and crying into his shirts.

“Ryan wouldn't have made you a meal…. after?” Harry asked, not daring to breach the subject of what they had just done.

“I mean, sometimes he would but I’m talking about … when we…” Y/N felt like a child, she couldn’t say it. Couldn’t say a stupid word. Harry’s head whipped to her, an unrecognizable expression on his face. “He didn’t like … do anything” referring to one of her worst fears “but … sometimes I wasn’t able to tell him to loosen his grip or slow down when I needed him to.”

Harry had done everything she had told him to. When she asked him to change positions, he obliged without a second thought. Telling him where to put his hands, what she liked, and how fast to go. But not only could she feel his consideration with every stroke, but something else as well. Something that they shied away from at every second except for in bed.

He didn’t expect her to laugh at his question, after having spent so many nights hyping himself up to ask it. Trying to remind himself that Y/N was his friend and that he would take a question like that seriously (because she’s always taken his other serious questions with the reaction he’s hoped for in the past). He looked into her eyes, a pair that he thought of in the moments before he fell asleep. She quickly realized the seriousness in his face and moved a bit further across the bed.  Despite not being able to make it far considering the mass of pillows along the edge.

Harry wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, but it was obvious at this point, six years into their friendship and three years into whatever it was they were doing now, that there was no point. Not unless she was underneath him could he evoke the reactions he wanted from her. The careless smiles of absolute bliss were like a secret he could only be privy to at night.

“I… I’m sorry Harry, you know that I ca-“

“You can't do what!? Y/N? You can’t…”

Y/N’s suddenly felt every inch of her body that was touching Harry’s, his torso underneath her, her feet at his thighs. Every inch burned. The affection that had just been pouring out of her, both emotionally and physically to both their delights, had suddenly run dry. There was nothing but unsaid words and rumpled sheets now, the passion long gone.

Y/N could never tell if what they had been doing for months was ruining their friendship, or that their friendship ended the second that he leaned in and kissed her that night in New York all those years ago.

Y/N could never understand how someone could ever say that the magic to being in New York City could ever be lost. She had lived in her apartment for a few months now, and it was easy to say that she loved it. A space to herself, if you ignored her three roommates of course. It was only temporary of course, being needed back in London in six months, but there was no way she was going to sit idly by and let those six months slip away.

Making her extra grateful to have Harry come visit. Y/N had fixed the creases on her comforter at least nine times before she received his text telling her he was on her way up. Sprinting past her roommate's doors and into their well-decorated foyer she stood excitedly waiting for him.

The second Harry stepped in before he even got a chance to look around - there was Y/N running toward him -  she had a hard blazing look in her face as she threw her arms around him. And without thinking, without planning it, without worrying about the fact that the roommates he had heard plenty about were watching, Harry bent down and kissed her. After several long moments, or it might have been half an hour (or possibly several sunlit days) they broke apart.

The grin that had been on both of their faces only moments before was still plastered on their faces but now covered with cherry red lipstick. Lipstick that Y/N rushed to wipe off Harry’s soft lips as she slowed her breathing to avoid the person attached to the footsteps that were steadily growing louder.

But with each kiss, they communicated just what they couldn’t say out of bed. The words that they could hardly even dare to think, let alone say out loud. So when it came to conversations in the space they usually used for sex, it became difficult. Leading them to one of their two usual answers. Have sex, and if they already did, have sex again, but ultimately to leave and pretend like it hardly ever happened.

So, when Harry watched Y/N slowly crawl off the side of the bed, he could hardly force words to come out. Only being able to push a final “Why can’t you? Y/N? please.”

The tension grew stronger with each article of clothing Y/N put back on. She took her time meticulously fixing the hem of her shorts to ponder his question. Why? Why couldn’t she? But, she was already two steps from the door. Leaving the room that fostered the only space Harry and Y/N would truly allow themselves to be open.

I’ve never written for Harry before so go easy on me please! I really do like this though, it was a lot of fun!

[remmushound]

Curse of the Clan part 64!

Tags: @scentedcandlecryptid @selfindulgenz 

The streets were alive with the presence of yokai, potentially thousands of them, all gathered where there would normally be humans. They didn't seem to be doing much of anything other than simply mulling around at a slow and casual pace, some of them in small groups happily chatting while others were on their own but just as happy. A few had even taken to sunbathing in the streets, sprawling themselves out on the hot asphalt to soak in the sun; the yokai didn't seem to discriminate between road and sidewalk when it came to exploring, treating it all instead as one big walkway.

“What’s going on?” Raphael asked, his lips pulled down in a frown. “Why are all the yokai out?”

Michelangelo was beaming ear to ear, eyes brighter than gemstones, “There’s no humans in the city! Well— except for April and Casey— so the yokai can come up and enjoy the sunshine! It’s a first for a lot of them; actual, warm sunshine!”

Donatello focused his goggles on the streets below, flicking from yokai to yokai to yokai. A mother rabbit trying to coax her four tiny babies out of the shadows they cowered in. An old kappa holding their beak to the sky with their eyes closed under the bliss of sunbeams. Two young avians wrestling, tumbling about in the streets much to the laughing delight of several nearby yokai.

“They seem to be enjoying themselves.” Donatello commented. “The weather is quite nice.”

“Come on!”

Michelangelo once more grabbed his brothers and urged them onward, down into the streets where they melted into the crowd of yokai without a second glance being cast their way, because they were normal in the eyes of all yokai and nothing to judge. The tight, suffocating nature of the crowd quickly thinned when they reached central park, where the yokai were just as plentiful but more spread out. Some of them had split off into tight family or friend groups, while others were wandering around, either going group to group searching for someone to embrace them into their fold or simply wandering to enjoy the day.

All around them wafted the lovely scents of grilling meats and the alluring, fruity temptation of beautifully assembled fruits. Multiple families shared each of the grills, as there wasn’t enough to go around, and mingled together to enjoy the combined meals. Michelangelo was quick to grow frustrated as his family slowed to gawk in awe at the different groups, Raphael practically drooling over the meaty spendor while Leonardo was more interested in trying to identify all the different yokai, and Donatello was furiously taking notes on their behavior and how they interacted.

Eventually they made it through the crowd and to the only grill that wasn’t already surrounded by dozens; this grill only had three people. Cassandra was setting out plating and snacks far too eagerly, fussing around to make sure it was perfect while April and Sunita were together at the grill. Raphael licked his chops to collect slobber that threatened to drip, so overwhelmed with all the different, meaty options that he got dizzy looking between all of them.

April laughed; she was in a beautiful sundress, her hair done up in braids with beads woven in between, tight against her scalp. She picked a shrimp from the pile and tossed it through the air at Raphael, who caught it in his mouth with a great big SNAP!

“That’s all, big guy.” April said, smirking as she pointed the meat fork at him, “Gotta wait for it all to be done.”

Raphael whined like a dog denied a second treat. Leonardo and Donatello both came up on either side of April to take advantage of the wafting aroma, breathing in deeply and then sighing out slow.

“Smells great!” Leonardo beamed, leaning his head on April’s shoulder.

“Damn well better.” April said confidently, “My mama taught me well!”

“She sure did…” Donatello drooled.

April produced two more shrimp and popped them into either of the twins mouths, making both melt with the euphoric juices.

“We saved the damn world!” April spun around, showing off her kiss-the-cook apron, “I’ll be damned if we ain’t gonna enjoy it!”

Leonardo's eyes wandered until they fell upon a familiar lump of gray in the river, drifting lazily by on an inflatable raft; a speck among a sea of visitors swarming the waters.

“Dad?” Leonardo gawked, and upon his realization all his brothers came to realize the same.

The brothers split apart from the girls and cautiously made their way down the rocks to the rivers shore, Raphael reaching out to snag Splinter’s raft so he couldn’t drift away from them. Splinter opened a lazy eye and snorted not unlike a horse disturbed from its slumber.

“Can’t a rat sleep in peace?” He grumbled.

Leonardo’s attention was drawn away from Splinter as motion under the water proved far more interesting. A tilt of his head and a refocus of his eyes brought him to concentrate instead on the beings under the water; aquatic yokai were swimming along under the rafts, creating a lazy-river of sorts for those floating on the top. They didn't seem to mind it at all.

“Where’d you get the raft, pops?” Raphael asked, giving a faint laugh, “Doesn’t look like any of ours.”

“That’s because it’s not.” Splinter said, reaching to tweak Raphael’s hand in such a way that he had no choice but to let go of the raft. The rat sank back into the plastic happily as he started to drift off again. “I traded it in exchange for stories! Yokai are the best!”

Four confused sets of eyes blinked and turned to Sunita for answers.

“Yokai are really big on trade.” Sunita said with a bright smile.

Michelangelo became suddenly aware of a gentle force tugging at his pants and, upon looking down, he was met with a tiny squid yokai. At first he didn't know what to do, but when he recognized the wide-eyes and child-like features, he kneeled to meet the child’s height.

“Hi!” Michelangelo said.

The child said nothing. He shoved something small and sticky into Michelangelo’s hands; a snail. A very small one.

“Ohh… thank you.” Michelangelo said, because he didn't know what else to say. “Domo arigatou.”

Still, the child said nothing. Instead, he pointed at the paints on Michelangelo’s chest and then at his own chest. It took a second before Michelangelo sucked in a gasp of realization and practically squealed his joy.

“Donald, I require my paints!” Michelangelo held out his snail-free hand out to Donatello.

Leonardo smirked and elbowed Donatello’s side. “He requires his paints.”

Rolling his eyes, Donatello obliged the request and he pulled the emergency paint kit out from his battle shell, passing it over to Michelangelo. The box turtles wasted no time in quickly ushering the yokai child to a nearby bench, a series of excited, high-pitched chirps sounding from him. From there, Raphael, Leonardo, and Donatello all split apart in search of a venture of their own in the yokai-filled park.

Raphael didn't get far before he heard a voice calling his name, and just as soon he was surrounded by powerful arms that heaved him up with no effort at all. Raphael’s initial instinct was to fend off an attack, but when the scent of the unseen Yokai came to him, he recognized it and began to laugh.

“King!”

King wrapped a massive arm around Raphael’s neck to keep him in a choke hold so he could repeatedly noogie the broad head. Raphael was eventually able to pull free, twirling around and tossing himself at King for a hug.

“I see my blessing worked.” King seemed to be practically glowing under the warmth of the sun, his scales a beautiful and vibrant mix of orange and red instead of the normal brown.

“Y-yeah, yeah!” Raphael nodded, a little breathless. “Yeah. Thanks again for that.”

“Was that your family?” King nodded back to where Raphael and his clan had just been gathered.

“Yeah— that’s my clan! And that’s my dad there on the river— he’s the rat.”

King nodded with a thoughtful hum. “I see your family is just as… colorful as mine. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for them if they’re ever on my side of the Hidden City.”

Raphael nodded an automatic nod with both hands on his hips. “Yeah I uh… thanks. I appreciate that.”

“INCOMING!”

Raphael looked up, confused at the shout and even more confused when he saw a fish falling right at him. King snatched the falling projectile before it could get very far, snaring it in his maw and giving a thankful grunt toward Koya as she flew once more away. King looked down at Raphael and held out the fish to him, which was still thrashing about trying to free itself from the yokai’s relentless grip.

“Oh— no thank you…” said.

King shrugged. He shifted down onto his belly, using his massive hands to pin the fish while he ripped its head clean off and gulped it down. The decapitated fishes body still struggled, which went without a bother from King as he lumbered away and over to Tang Shen who was soaking up the sun. Head bowed, he offered the rest of the fish to her and she accepted, eating it with just as much ferocity as her adoptive son.

Splinter crawled onto shore as his raft came around the bend of the lazy river once more, dragging it along with him as he went to Raphael’s side, staring at the cat and dragon duo with much the same expression as Raphael.

“Are they friends of yours?”

“Uh… that’s King. He gave me my blessing. And uh… that’s his mother Tang Shen.”

“Tang Shen huh?” Splinter eyed the cat curiously as she sucked the flesh from the bone and proceeded to rasp her tongue over the fishes skeleton to lap up any remaining flavor “What. A. Woman.”

[seijohsfairy]

Anonymous

ahh!! all the nii-san posts are so good, but have you considered twin brother tobio who thinks your the only one for him

I have,, It has affected my sanity and rings in my head a hundred times a day. I hate it here. Truly. This became sorta really long? But I hope you enjoy (・´ｪ｀・)

tw incest, dubcon if you squint

The flashes of light are incessant, an obnoxious wave of noisy shutters filling the silence in between mutters and questions. Your fists around the bottom lining of your old jacket, denting the fabric under the light ministrations of your fingertips. It’s nerves, they still creep up from time to time when you feel the eyes. They linger, curious or accusatory ones alike. Another flash makes you blink, then it’s quiet. You take a breath at the same time he does, accidental, but of course you do. You’ve always mirrored him after all, even when you weren’t trying. Tobio holds the air until everything grows completely immovable, like still water in winter.

His eyebrows twitch slightly, before he speaks. “I am happy.” Simple, straightforward, you can’t help but let your smile shine through. He eyes the interviewer for a moment, before nodding. “We’ve all worked hard to prove we deserve a spot on the court, it was a good match and I’m happy with the outcome.” The interviewers quickly take notes, before another sea of flashes rains down on the curved panes of his face. It’s his standard post-match ramble, nothing new there, but you can see the spark of victory where it bends him in two and shatters at the fold. “And,” his eyes flick around across the small group of people.

They find yours. “My sister came to support us in the stands so I am very proud.” The deep blues rest on you like you’re the end of a war, his lips turning upwards at the sides. He is proud, of you, and you of him just as much. Or even more if possible, though you are quicker to lower your gaze at the attention. An interviewer to your side clears her voice, before clicking her pen a few times in rapid succession. The press irritates him, though he’s gotten very good at hiding it over the years. In this moment though, you can tell.

It’s written all over in the way he stands on balls of his feet, like he’s ready to sprint out. You wonder if he would reach for you before setting off, or if you’d have to chase him down the hall like another of the fans. Either way you wouldn’t be far behind, it’s just the nature of your relationship. The lads presses her ruby lips together. “When will you take another girlfriend to a game? You broke up with your last girlfriend in May, fans want to know if it is true that you are keeping your newest fling private.”

Ushijima gives you a little head tilt as he walks past, his cheeks coloured from exhaustion, towel still dangling around his neck. You return it. A few of the interviewers immediately turn their attention to him, snapping photos and calling out for him with an almost violent greediness, the small interaction not going unnoticed. You think you hear someone mention your name to him in the same line as ‘dating’, and Wakatoshi’s deep chuckle is comforting when he leads the bunch of them down the hall. Tobio is frowning when you turn back, at the woman with the high ponytail and red lips that shimmer under the artificial lighting.

“I would’ve kept all of it private if that could have been the end of it.” He raises a hand to brush some of his sweaty hair away from his face, before dropping his eyes to the floor. “I only bring the people precious to me to my games.” He does. He asks happily, over the phone like a giddy child, at the crack of dawn when he goes for his run. You’ve complained about it many times. He still does it though, because Tobio is nothing if not persistent. You only notice him moving because the people around you gasp and gawk, flinching away from him like he’s other. He is, too, a different breed entirely.

His long fingers are around your wrist, pulling you from behind the lenses to his side, tucked against his shoulder like a little parasite. That’s what you think you must look like when the flashing starts. Tobio’s arm wraps around your back and rests his chin on your head though, allowing you to fit right in his hold. Another one of his shiny trophies. His smile looks a little brighter from this angle. “My sister is the only one who has never missed a game of mine. If you want to report on anything, this is the person I am most grateful for in my life right now. I’m very lucky to have her support.”

It feels unreal. Someone calls out your name, the shutters get the noisiest they’ve been all day. It won’t be a headline in the making, you try to calm yourself, bowing at the same time Tobio does. He drops his hand to wrap around yours, and tugs you behind him. It’s straightforward, your brother always is. The violent banging against your rib cage is less so, but you’ve gotten used to it already.

///

“Why did you say all that stuff to those guys earlier? Were you not feeling too well?” Tobio looks up from where he’s putting his bag down, his eyes shooting up along your body. “You’re normally good at dealing with the press post-match.” You put the towel under the water, before turning back towards the main room of your apartment.

“What did I say that was wrong?” He tosses his sweaty shirt on the heap of jerseys and leggings to wash, picking up his towel and swinging it around his neck. You look down again, playing with the fluffy fabric as you approach.

“Nothing, Tobio. I just-” you linger at the couch, resting your hip against it, “you don’t normally egg on rumours about your dating life. It’ll be fine because it’s me, but if it were anyone else people might be cautious of your words. They really want a story on the details, you know. And I’m not really used to being next to you on pictures, it was a bit surprising, s’all.”

“I meant what I said.”

He closes the rest of the distance for you, standing toes to toes. You don’t look up until you can feel the soft puff of air on your head, where he lays a kiss. It feels warm, and good, and you bite your tongue when the pounding of your heart starts feeling painful against your chest. You duck away from it the second time, pushing his chin up with two fingers instead. Tobio smiles into his exhale, as you trace across his features with the wet towel. Brows, eyes, nose, under his chin and along the line of his throat. “Are you mad at me?” He drops his eyes back to yours when you frown, before tacking onto your slight frustration. “Or about the dating?”

“Tobio,” you mumble, pulling out of his vicinity too late. His hand is already on your forearm, tugging you right back in place. Face to his chest with barely enough space to look up all the way to his handsome face. You try to keep it out, but your tongue starts to feel a bit bitter anyway. “I really don’t want to-”

“Because we can stop doing that as soon as you say so. They get paid a lot of money, money I’d rather be using on us. I’m tired of doing it.”

Even now, still spent from the match, he smells like safety. Like home, perfectly familiar. You have to physically distance yourself from him by turning your eyes to the couch, not to melt right into him. “Then don’t,” you nod. “But then I have to stop being less… everywhere with you too, and I don’t think you want that.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not a good actor, Tobio. I can’t pretend not to care and people will look at us, and see.”

“Then let them.”

You sigh, dropping the towel aside under the arm that he’s still holding. He draws gentle circles into the soft skin, like he’s trying to unpick the rips in every single fiber of your threaded sanity. “You’re impossible.” He bends his knees and drops to your level, kissing you. Softly, a few feather-light kisses that shut you up, and then one that breaks you open. He pulls you into him by the waist, the hard lines of his chest against your softer ones. The press of his lips to yours is sweet, though entirely guilty as he uses the leverage on your body to walk you back a little, melting into you.

He bites at your bottom lip and swipes his tongue at yours, sucking eagerly. You imagine his tongue to spell out ‘mine’ on the soft parts of your mouth a million times, because when he gives you a break to breathe you’re dizzy. “You said we weren’t going to do this again.”

“I‘ve been a better liar than you for a while, little sister,” he grins, though you can see the hesitation in his eyes too. This is such a bad thing, it’s wrong, you know it and Tobio must know too. It eats you up inside, but maybe that’s why it’s so easy to believe him. You let your face drop against his chest, letting the rise and fall of his chest dictate yours. “You were made for me, remember? And I for you. And I wished that we’d get married and you wished we’d always be together forever.”

“On our fifth birthday,” you remind him, ignoring his hand when it starts playing with the edge of your worn jacket. It’s his, you suddenly hate how obvious you are. Tobio hums softly at your frown.

“I never stopped meaning it.” He uses one of his long legs to hook around yours and pushes you over into the couch, though you land softly. And while you’re trying to catch your breath from the sudden tilt, he follows you down, coming to lift your knees open and upwards. He leans down on his forearms on top of you, and presses another kiss to your lips. This one is lazier, like he’s already won. He has. Because you shouldn’t be in this situation at all. “I love you,” he whispers, starting to kiss down your neck and zipping open his old jacket from your body.

His large body slotted in between your legs, he presses his hips into you just enough to drive you absolutely mad. “I can’t stay away from you, so stop pushing already,” he moans, reaching down to shift himself in his shorts. Your body, the traitorous thing, basically shudders in excitement when he pulls your top underneath your tits, leaning down to take a bud into his mouth. “Say it,” he ruts his hips into yours now, the friction making you whine. It feels so good, he feels so good.

“I- I love you,” you close your eyes when he smiles at you again, lifting himself from your body to drag your shorts and panties down your legs. “Ah- ‘want you, Tobio.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, sitting back in the couch, “want you too, been wanting you for so long. So long, you have no idea.” He pulls at you until you get up too, sitting you down on his lap, his hard cock slotted between your thighs with a his. “How did you expect me to fuck this perfect, little hole and forget about it, anyway? I belong in this tight cunny, it belongs to me.” He’s rambling, humping you in his lap with his head thrown back and his fingers digging so deep into the skin of your hips they might leave permanent indents.

You press a few kisses to his throat, which he grunts at, before lining up and sliding down the head. He’s already so big, that’s what you remember most. You twitch as you lower yourself on him, moaning through the deep breaths. He stretches you so wide it’s hard to think of anything else, just Tobio. Tobio, Tobio, your Tobio. He drops his forehead on your shoulder when you’re full, before thrusting up into you. You start moving up and down too fast for his liking but your patience has worn too thin for slow. “Wait, you’re going to hurt yourself,” Tobio chokes, shoving you back down in his lap. His cockhead is already at the very end of your sloppy cunt, pressing against every inch.

“Want your fat cock to break me open, please. I need it. I need you. Tobio, please.” He kisses down your face and neck to let you adjust a moment longer, before rolling his length deep inside you once, twice, filling you up over and over again. Mind blank, you lift yourself up a bit higher to drop down on him, his breathing getting shallower by the second. He mumbles out soft curses, and you cling to him. You won’t last. “T-Tobio,” you beg, and he slides his hand between your bodies to rub at your clit with precise movements. “Wanna cum on your cock. You too, cum into me, please.”

He only picks up the pace more when he flips you back over on your back, rutting his cock into you so deep it kisses your cervix with each thrust. Fingers sliding through the sticky mess with calculated precision. “Cum then, slutty girl. Cum on your brother’s cock, you deserve it. I’ll fuck you until you can’t ever think of what others think again.” His hips smack into your doughy skin with every pump, stretching you wide open for him. You can only hang onto him while you cum, moaning his name over and over. “Ahg— Tobio, fuck, holyfuckholyfuck I love you. Love you, Tobio!” Your arms around his shoulders, nails ruining his beautiful skin. “I’m sorry,” you breathe as he kisses you, never once stopping.

He doesn’t give you rest, can’t. But his lips are all over yours, comforting you even now. “I know, baby, I know.” He forces himself to slow down a little as you clamp around him so tight, not ready to let this end. His hips twitch, eyes sharpening on your fucked expression. The rush of love he feels should be illegal. “You’re mine. Don’t fucking forget it ever again. I’m going to fuck you limp.”

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Kingdom Collisions Part XVI

please explain to me how i started this fic after EotH and we’re now ahead of that fic?? Also don’t kill me? Okay i love you guys enjooyyyy

masterlist; my links

I know it’s been over a month so here’s a previously on:

Prince Jason Grace sets him down by the fire. “Don’t move, I’ll come back for you.”

And then he is gone, and Prince Perseus Jackson smiles. Because that was the voice of the man he fell in love with. And those hands which had brushed against his waist as he let go were as warm and alive as electric currents.

So the destroyer sits by the fire, and waits for his healer to rescue him.

Come home, don’t die so far from the sea

Percy Jackson can feel the hard press of the wooden floor against his back and he welcomes the pain like an old friend. The darkness of the room feels endless in the cold black of the early morning hours. The fire has long since died, no kindling or wood to keep it alight for however long he stays here. If he didn’t know they planned to kill him at dawn of the coming day he would think they were trying to freeze him to death. It was almost strange how cold he was considering Hanaan was supposed to be in spring, heading towards the warmer months at a rapid pace. He wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t in Piper’s kingdom any longer. Maybe he had been transported to a kingdom of eternal winter.

He remembers a story like it, one his mom had told to the group that met at the children’s library every month. He remembers all the stories his mother had told him, fitting into each other like a tapestry. Just then an icy wind drifts in from under the door making him shiver in the thin cotton clothes. He curls into a ball-any attempt to save his body heat- and closes his eyes to a warmer darkness. His mother’s voice echoes inside him.

“When the world was first created there was only the earth and the sea and the sky and the beings that made these elements up.”

Queen Sally smiled down at the children surrounding her, looking up with sparkling eyes, hanging onto her every word.

There was the Lady of the Ocean, and the Being of the Rivers, and the Wisps of the Sky and the Dancers of the Earth. They lived together in harmony, for they never knew of each others’ existences. But one day the Being of the Rivers met the Lady of the Ocean and they learnt together what love was, and then loved each other. They refused to be apart, they couldn’t bare it; the oceans would thrash in agony, hurting the earth; the rivers would dry up, or form canyons in the ground in rage. It was destructive to keep them apart, for they loved so hard and so fiercely that it became a weakness to the world to separate them. So the beings stayed together, for eons, seasons, lifetimes passing without disruption. And in their time the earth changed and the sky grew rainbows and new elements came into being, things that molded and shaped as they had. Things that would not become clear until there was tangible things to hold them, make them. The day came, uncountable eras into their existence. A Dancer of the Earth had fallen in love with a Wisp of the Sky and together they created one that walks.

“Like us Your Majesty?” A little girl burning with curiosity, curly pigtails swinging slightly in the Mare breeze. 

“Just like us Bianca.” His mother had smiled, “With two legs and a wide smile and so much love in their hearts.”

Bianca sighed contentedly as if she had known that first being all her life and looked up to them.

“And with that one being came more and more. As they settled down the need for structure became apparent. Not to control these new beings, but to make sure they had a place to talk about their struggles and to connect them with those who could help. And who better-

His mother had smiled, one of her secret smiles, that meant she knew something she’d beg them to tell her. Half the children around her fell for the bait.

“Whom, your majesty?” A child he had never seen before squeaked, rocking on their heels, knees pulled up to their chest.

“Well the very beings that brought them there.” She giggled, watching as some of their faces scrunched in confusion while others slowly came to the realisation.

The beings of the earth and the rivers and the sky took on a form, as close to the new beings as possible and came to them to offer help, and solace. And that is how the Kingdoms were formed. Mare for water, and Caelum for sky, and Canbaha for earth.

The questions came all at once. 

“So the first Kings and Queens were the beings of the world?’

“What happened to the Ocean Lady and the River?”

“Are you a-”

“Alright alright,” The Queen laughed, “One at a time, let’s go around the room shall we?”

The children raised their hands, impatience shaking their little bodies. His mother pointed at Bianca who was right under her gaze.

“What happened to the Lady of the Ocean and the Being of Rivers?”

“Remember how i told you they couldn't ever be separated?”

The gaggle before her nodded enthusiastically eager to show they were listening.

“Well they were the only beings to rule one kingdom together. They decided if they fed one another there was no need to keep themselves apart. Instead of becoming a kingdom of Oceans and  kingdom of Rivers they become the Kingdom of Mare.”

“What about all the other kingdoms?” A small voice piped up, drifting in the sea of mutters.

“Those kingdoms came to be as beings changed and evolved and became something different, something more. The Kingdom of Hanaan appeared first, created by a beautiful person who could change form at will. She knew not of physicality but of emotion. And then the Kingdom of Hekima came, bringing with it prosperous invention and ways to keep the world working better, more beautifully. And then the Kingdom of Xoia-”

Bianca gasped, “Mine!”

“Yours” his mother had smiled, stroking the little girl's head. “Xoia was one of the last to appear but it brought brightness to the world that could not be found or made otherwise.”

“What happened to the beings that ruled, mom?” Percy’s voice was small, like a baby bird learning how to use its beak.

For him she cocked her head, her blue eyes glinting under the candlelight swaying above them. “What do you think Prince?”

Come home, don’t die so far from the sea

Percy awoke to the door creaking open and rough hands digging into his arms as they hauled him up. He doesn’t have the energy to demand where they were taking him. He didn’t have the wits or the power because his brain was slowly coming to realisations he was not ready to have. It was making assumptions he was terrified may be true. It was shattering his world for the billionth time. It was breaking him.

The world is still dark, but it is not that heavy blackness that seems to suck him in. It is the kind of dark that tells you the light was winning; that soon you will see pinpricks of white and yellow and gold poking through the sky and then the world will be awash in colour once more.

He is thrown onto the grey-stoned floor, hiding his wince as his knees take the brunt of it. The people who had deposited him laugh and walk away. He doesn’t bother to call after them, instead taking in the surroundings. He is in an arena. In a colosseum. He is the lamb offered up to the butcher. He is the prey stuck in a hunter’s snare. He is the entertainment.

He can picture it now; crowds stomping into the stone stands and chanting for his death. He can imagine the painter sat in the box only one lower from the royalty, slapping colour onto a canvas, swirling it in the shades of his blood. He can imagine the musicians in the box just below the painter, banging on their drums, letting the beautiful notes of a flute be the anthem to his downfall. He can imagine his husband, standing in the box above all, looking down at him with those eyes of lightning. Eyes he had woken up to when Jason’s nightmares were so bad they had to sit by his window. About that blonde hair, like strands of sunlight, he has so often wanted to run his hands through, how he mourned its discolouring when their blood coated it.  About those hands that held him when they were captured and freed him so they weren’t. And he wonders, if the Prince will miss him.

Because, he realises with startling radiant clarity, somewhere in the mess that had become their lives Percy had grown to care for the Prince of Caelum. He doesn’t really know when it started; maybe when he found Jason screaming outside the door to the Captain of the Guards’ chamber; or maybe when Percy had sought him out some nights later, and held him as he cried; or maybe when Jason let him be a part of the kingdom by giving him a white rose. He can’t be sure it wasn’t a combination of all those things. He sits on the cold platform in the middle of the arena and finds himself sad, achingly sad, that he will never get that time with his husband. That he will never get to tell the Prince how he feels. 

The sun rises slowly, as if trying to delay the inevitable, but Percy embraces it, letting the warmth of the final tomorrow caress his brown skin. If it is the last time he feels the sun, he wishes to do nothing but feel it. The rays are gentle on his face and he can only imagine it’s what Jason’s touch would have felt like. He sits cross-legged, chin to the sky, eyes closed to the array of colours and lets the last joys of this world embrace him.

The wrought iron gates underneath the raised stands shake and rattle, but he doesn’t open his eyes. He doesn’t know what beasts await him; he doesn’t care. Let them come, he thinks, it will be a mercy to rest at last. The crowds pour in, his people who he was set to rule one day, Jason’s people who he was set to protect one day. Still he keeps himself shut off from the world, feeling the sun, and the wind.

If he had loved anything at all he had loved the wind, the way it chased his ankles, and swept him up, and raced him, and held him, and danced with him, and coaxed him. It was a tragedy, a heartbreaking thought, that he hadn’t gotten to see his ocean one last time. He would have loved to feel the cool water on his skin, and the sand sinking under his feet. He wishes he had more time. He wants this to be over as soon as possible. Time is up.

“Good morning my people,” A voice like ancient beings and newborns croons across the colosseum. “Are you ready to witness history?”

Percy thinks of his mother, the keeper of stories, and knows she has already heard this one. Percy thinks of his father, who has returned to the beginning. He knows his parents will not come to save him. Percy thinks of his childhood friends, all leading secret lives, forged to end his own. He knows they will be in the stands to watch their victory. Percy thinks of his husband, a soldier for an army they could never have predicted. He knows they will never learn how to love one another.

The crowd is screaming, the wrought iron is rattling. Prince Perseus Jackson opens his eyes as the gate yawns open.

The arena is deafening, shaking with anticipation. He glances to the royal box nearly floating in the clouds and frowns when he doesn’t spot a flash of blonde hair.

The people are feral with excitement. A loud boom echoes from the musicians box.

Prince Jason Grace stumbles from the mouth of the arena and falls to his knees in front of the platform.

“Kill him Perseus.” A voice glimmers around him, leaking in through the ringing in his ears.

“Come home Prince,” That voice lilts, “Do not die so far from the sea.”

Jason looks up at him, blue eyes hazy, a dagger loose in his clasp. “Hello Prince.”

Percy steps down from the platform, and takes the dagger from his husband’s hands. It is almost sickening how easily he gives it over.

The crowd stomps its feet: they are ready for blood; they are ready for slaughter.

He holds the dagger up, making sure it glints in the sun. And then he draws his husband close until there is nothing between their bodies, not space, not even air.

“Let’s go home my love.” He whispers. “We will not die so far from the sea.”

Prince Perseus Jackson brings the blade down.

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Danny how do we feel?

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