#dock fouling

[noncompliantcyborg]

Day 18 of taking myself to the water to remind myself I’m allowed to just exist

Video Description: Incredibly green water with fish swimming around a dock piling covered in little feeding barnacles. Subtitles read "Anyone know what these fish are?" The fish have a pointed face with a large rounded body that is relatively shallow, with a triangular dorsal fin, a forked yellow tail fin. Some are smaller with a less distinctly colored tail, and a series of dots on the body. "Are they the same species and one morph is male and the other female?" The fish pick at the piling. "I think they are eating the barnacles." We jump to under the dock where there is a feathery worm with brown and white striped tendrils. "I love sabellid worms. They come in such good colors." We jump to showing a red and a yellow tube worm. Up close under the dock, tons of tiny barnacles feed. "Look at those barnacles go." Next to them is some orange mats with lots of little holes. "All the orange stuff is colonial ascidians." A large crab with spindly limbs and its carapace covered in barnacles crawls into view. "What a beautiful kelp crab! (Tbh all crabs are beautiful). Big claws but eating tiny things"

Migrating this series I did on Tik Tok over to tumblr, which unfortunately means scraping the audio off most videos to avoid copyright strikes. If you have any questions, I’d love to talk about these critters!

Original with audio: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8MnSf8L/

[lolasky]

ㅤㅤㅤ HEY DADDY!

[ ᯓ★ ] meeting their future child with you when you're not even dating yet | fem!reader | fluff, humour (at some point), a teeny tiny bit of angst on usopp's one, foul language (just koro saying an 'ass') ꩜ | wc. 4.7k — approx. 1k each |

not said, but kazuki is 4, koro is 8, nyla is 6 and heaven is 11

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤL U F F Y

he'd be so confused once he saw a little boy just like him. not just in appearance, but with his whole energy. once he learned and accepted the fact that the boy – who was his mini version, the crew couldn't even doubt – was his son, he refused to give him back to his timeline.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

the straw hat crew has just docked at an island so they could get some supplies before getting back to sailing.

"okay, so, sanji and i are going to get some food," you tell, waiting for sanji to get out of the kitchen with the list.

"robin and i are going shopping!" nami says excitedly. "are you sure you don't wanna go with us instead with... him...?" she points to the blonde cook, who was lighting up another cigarette.

"i wanna go too!" luffy yells from inside, running to the deck, where the crew were at.

"you. stay." the navigator says through her teeth. "we'll be quick and don't need any trouble. you stay with zoro and watch the ship."

luffy pouted, watching his crew get down from the ship. he looked at zoro, thinking if he could pest him a little, but soon the swordsman brushed him off saying "i'm gonna sleep. if you make any noise or cause some trouble, i'm gonna slice you in three."

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

nami and robin were getting out of another store with more bags, chatting about random things when a kid bumped into them and fell.

"oh, i'm sorry, little one..." robin drops her bags and kneels in front of the little boy, offering her hand to help him stand up, but as soon as she sees his lips quivering and his eyes starting to get wet, she worries.

the little boy stretched his arms out to her, asking silently to be picked up and so she did.

"where are your parents, little boy?" nami asks in a soft tone, watching him getting comfortable in robin's arms.

"and what's your name?" the archaeologist drops the second question.

the kid gazed at the woman, lips quivering again and his voice trembling when he asked "you... you don't rwemember my name aunt lobin?"

nami gave her a weird look. she was as confused as robin. watching the little one in her arms closer, he reminded her of someone. the messy black hair, the big round eyes, the pout. why the hell does this kid look so much like luffy? robin seemed to notice the same thing as her.

"okay... so... what about we look for your parents, huh? and you can tell me your name 'cause i love hearing you say it!" the older woman says, eliciting a big smile from the boy. nami coughed immediately.

"can we go to the shwip? i'm sure they are thewe!" he holds the women's hands and pulls them in any direction.

it sure made the navigator and the archaeologist even more confused because how did he know they had a ship? and why would his parents be there?

"so, sweetheart, tell me your name?" robin asks once again.

"oh! i'm kazuki!" he stops abruptly, making nami almost trip and fall. "i'm monkey d. kazuki!" and that's how their jaws went slack.

"YOU'RE WHO?!" they panic.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

as soon as the girls got back to the sunny, they met all of the crewmates, except for sanji and you, who apparently hadn't been back yet.

"who's that kid?" usopp asks confused. mainly because he couldn't pry kazuki off of him and his nose.

"where did this kid come from?" zoro asks. he was starting to get irritated.

"uncle zoro, whewe is dada?" the little version of luffy asks, a bit upset that usopp could get him off of him.

"how would i know, kiddo?" he answers in the same annoyed tone as ever.

"i'm so hungry! when is sanji coming?" luffy whines, showing up at the deck and there they could spot the similarities.

not only their hair, eyes, pout, or even the big grin kazuki offered, but the energy the kid had. he was just like luffy in many ways. he just wasn't that loud like the straw hat captain – thanks to his mother.

once the crew saw them together, all the pieces seemed to connect. one, two, three blinks in disbelief and the boys' jaws fell to the ground.

"oh, hey kid!" luffy greets him friendly.

"dada!" the little boy jumped into the captain's arms who seemed as clueless as ever.

and a wave of yelling could be heard.

a couple of minutes has passed by and luffy and his son seemed to get along well. zoro, chopper, usopp, brook and franky were in the same position, they were still loading the information.

the captain and his little kid were running around the sunny, playing tag. they even tried to call the others but they didn't... seem like playing.

"you know, kazuki is too old to be in this... uhm... timeline..." nami points it out to robin.

"i know. how can luffy have had a son?" she murmurs, watching both run and giggle around the ship.

"robin!" it seems to call the other back to earth. "i'm seriously worried! and we don't even know who his mother is." the navigator looks stressed. one luffy is enough trouble, but a luffy and a mini him?

"we don't even know how he got here in the first place." robin sighs.

"we're back!" you announce as you put some bags on the floor.

"wow! you took more time than us." nami approaches you. "what happened?"

"well... sanji decided to pick up a fight over a fish..." you say casually. "uhm... did we miss something?" you notice the boys, finding it normal – well, for the straw hats, but as soon you spot a kid running around the ship with the manchild your captain is, you get confused. "who's that kid?"

"long story..." nami smiles innocently.

"did you kidnap a kid?"

"what? no! it's not- it isn't-"

"mama!" a childly voice is heard from the depths of the sunny and you can see that kid from before running to you happily.

okay, it's going too far!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

"so, this kid, kazuki, is luffy son's with... you?!" usopp tries to connect all the pieces. you hum an "yes" and his brain seems to burn. "too much information, too much information!" he holds his head while falling to the ground dramatically.

"when did you and luffy make a baby?" zoro asks confused as ever.

"don't be stupid mosshead. this kid is clearly from the future." sanji answers, blowing the smoke away.

"thanks, sanji." you smile at him, who looks at you like he's helplessly in love.

you feel a tug in your shirt and look down at your kid. "is something wrong, little one?"

"mama, i wanna sleep..." he rubs his eyes and yawns, blinking slowly while stretching his arms out to you. the whole crew – zoro included – had their hearts melted.

"then let's sleep, huh?" you say softly, picking him up and gently caressing his cheek and hair as he snuggled against you.

luffy runs to you, seeing his child in your arms. "what? don't tell me you're sleepy already, kid!" the captain pouts, watching the baby yawn. "no, let's play more!" he bounces excitedly.

"luffy, he's tired." you hiss, wanting your baby as calm as possible.

"but i wanna play more with my son!" he insists.

"you played enough, don't you think?" you start to make your way inside the sunny with luffy following you, insisting that they should play more. "now he wants to sleep with his mama."

"but-"

"mama, dada, let's sleep, pwease?" hearing the sleepy voice of his child, luffy seems to calm down a little.

"sure baby." you peck his forehead. "but your dada is not joining us 'till he baths." luffy gasps.

"how can you betray the dada of your child like that?" the captain whines, still following you to your quarters.

"yeah, i guess they settled pretty quickly to this life of mama and dada." nami comments, grinning at their recent view.

"i can't believe this idiot became a father before me." usopp complains, murmuring still lying on the floor.

"how do you know that?" chopper asks. "well, maybe all of you are already parents in the future..." that simple sentence was enough to ignite something in zoro, usopp and sanji.

"hey, kazuki! don't sleep right now!" zoro shouts.

"yeah, tell me if your great uncle usopp gave you little friends to play with, huh?" usopp is the first to run, looking for the little family.

"surely i'm the only one qualified enough to even get a spouse!" sanji yells at zoro, punching him to reach the one person who could give him the precious information.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤZ O R O

he'd be as confused as luffy and would deny every word that kid would say. like, only just because a kid has green hair, is almost obsessed with swords, has the guts to insult him and is the sassiest kid he'd ever met, that is his son, huh? he definitely could grow accustomed to the presence of that child and the fact that he made him with you.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

another island could be seen by the pirates. it meant they could dock there to stock some items. franky was the one eager. on their way, some pirates tried to fight the straw hats – which obviously couldn't be a good idea. well, the matter is, the sunny had some minor damages and usopp and franky were trying to keep their home alive.

chopper and you didn't need anything. the medical supplies were enough for a while, so you and he didn't need to go outside, but he wanted to. nami went to see if she could buy something she liked. luffy went to see if he could find a nice restaurant. zoro, robin, brook and you stayed on the ship.

zoro and you had a hate-love relationship. you were friends and would get along, but he's the sassiest man you've ever met and just gets on your nerves. you just want to kill him.

some time has passed by and the crew came back. you were still reading your book, laying your head on robin's legs as she sunbathed.

"hey, uhm... i didn't know zoro and you were together..." usopp says awkwardly, approaching you as robin coughs in disbelief.

"we're not." you stand up, angry. "what is that stupid vegetable slicer saying now?"

"no! nothing! is just... franky and i found a kid... and he's... claiming to be your son..." you gag.

"MY WHAT?!" you hear zoro yelling and soon coughing desperately.

"where is he?" you ask the sharpshooter who points to the entrance. the green-haired kid looks so timid. he's just standing there, looking at every part of the ship. you approach him calmly, bending a bit so you can talk better to him. "hey, kid!" you offer him a smile and he can't help but feel calmer.

"hi, mom..." he answers in a low voice, still shy.

"why don't you say your name and we get to meet the others, huh? so you can tell us more about what's going on. do you know what's going on?" he looks into your eyes and advert his gaze again.

"something like that..." he plays with his fingers before answering your first question. "my name is roronoa koro." your eyes widen a bit, you can't hide your surprise.

"so you're really the kid of that stupid man..." you murmur and he nods.

"i swear he gets more likeable in the future." koro says, earning a warmful giggle from you. seeing his mother never fails to calm him.

"i rather see it myself." you offer your hand to him, who holds it without even thinking. "let's see the others."

as you walk hand-in-hand with koro, getting closer to the crewmates, they couldn't believe what their eyes were just seeing.

zoro's jaw fell on the ground. how- how can he have a child? with... you?

the little kid gasps immediately once he sees the swords zoro is carrying. he runs to his father and try to touch the the swords, but the grumpy swordsman doesn't let him to.

"what you think you doing?" he asks, holding the kid's head so he couldn't get closer.

"do you use them often?" the boy asks, curiosity dripping from his eyes.

"of course, i use them often. why wouldn't i?"

"well, currently, the three swords are untouched, held by a support in the living room's wall..." the little roronoa answers, trying to touch them at all costs. "let me see it!"

"no, you won't touch it!" zoro insists.

a loud noise was heard by the crew. a tray with some snacks was splattered on the floor while sanji stood there, looking at the little mosshead in front of him.

"am i seeing it right?" the blond cook's eyes were wide open. "WHY IS THERE A LITTLE MOSSHEAD?"

"uncle sanji!" the little boy runs to his beloved uncle, who was left flabbergasted.

"you like him? he's a stupid cook!" the swordsman was at a loss of words.

"and so are you." sanji laughs his ass off. his eyes glossy because of the tears of joy. "seriously... i can't believe you had- well, you're gonna have kids with this idiot." he talks directly to you.

"trust me... i have no reasons to..."

"my favourite boy! tell me, kid, what do you wanna eat? i can prepare anything just for you." sanji talks to him, guiding koro to the kitchen. luffy is following them quietly until sanji yells at him so he scurries away.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

trying to know more about him and where he came from, zoro and you sit and talk to koro. you were lying on a wall, koro was by your side and zoro was in front of you.

"so, how did you come here?" you ask the boy.

"i don't know. last thing i remember i was sleeping, then i ended up at that weird place." your son explains. "the weirdest thing is... my sister was next to me... why she's not here too?" he sounded confused.

"wait... not only one but two kids with the mosshead? what did i do to deserve such a punishment?" you mumble.

"ha ha, like it's my dream to have kids with you." the swordsman hissed.

"not only two, but three. you're pregnant." you gag as you listen to his words.

"three..." you whisper, not believing a thing. "what's your thing, huh? three earrings, three swords, three kids. are you obsessed or something?" you yell at zoro who just smirks.

"might be my lucky number." he keeps that eat-shitting grin on that stupid pretty face while you die internally. "wait, you have a sister... what's her... name?"

"the one you fought mom to name her. kuina." koro's face lit up at the mention of his sister. he really loves his family.

that annoying grin zoro held up in his face was replaced by a genuine smile which made you smile along, happy. koro knew about the past of both his parents and was really proud of them.

"lord, please give me strenght..." you sigh. "well, i know it can be a bit... confusing not to call me mom, so you can keep it..."

"and you like it..." you son knows you too well no to notice it. doesn't matter what timeline he's at, you'll always be his favourite person.

"and i like it..." you smile, ruffling his short green hair. "okay, i'll try to find some way to send you back to your life. future me and... zoro... might be worried." you stand up, pecking his forehead and walk away.

"pleeease, let me see it! mom never lets me..." the little boy pouts, making grabby hands at his father as soon as you're out of sight. "please, dad!"

that word. that kid.

"fine. but only if you tell me some things. it'll be our... little dad and son secret." zoro suggests, knowing way too well his son wouldn't refuse.

"deal!" he answers excitedly while watching his father pull wado ichimonji from its sheath.

koro inspects the sword. his eyes are bright, sparkling like a starry sky. he's just like his father, a swords lover. even though his mother has forbidden him from using one. zoro has an amused look watching his little soon-to-be-swordsman.

"so... did i become the greatest swordsman?" he questions, seeing koro maneuvering his sword.

"yes, you defeated mihawk." the reply is short and simple due to the boy's concentration to something else.

zoro just celebrates, murmuring a few things, feeling like he's the strongest man alive.

"did future me teach you that well how to use a sword?"

"sure thing! despite mom's clear rule not to let me touch a sword 'til i was sixteen, you've started to teach me two years ago." the kid smiles.

"and... last thing... uhm... did future me ever tell you how i get your mom?" the swordsman looks a little hesitant, even more when he sees the knowing look koro was shooting at him.

"hate her my ass." the roronoa kid mumbles.

"hey!"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤU S O P P

the moment he spotted you coming back with a child, he thought you've just kidnapped her, but as soon as he laid his eyes on the little girl, he thought it was too good to be just a joke. when the girl introduced herself, he couldn't help but smile and welcome her, loving the idea of being the father of such a cute girl.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

the crew were preparing to set sail. the island they docked at was way too small, so they hadn't much to do there. as soon as they've got everything they needed – or the island could provide – they'd get back to sailing.

yet, you were walking around the place, seeing some things, and if you liked it, you'd keep it.

you were standing at a fruit stall, hearing the seller babble about some rare golden fruit he just got from a distant island, but you knew it was just talking. you were distracted by your favourite fruit – which looked so pretty and delicious – that you didn't even notice a little girl running around.

"dada? dada!" she was screaming. she looked so terrified.

you turned around, seeing the kid crying. some people were trying to help her, some people were just ignoring her and passing by. but as soon as she spots you, she runs to you like you are her hope.

"mama!" she clutched to you and refused to let you go.

"oh! uhm... hey, baby... i'm- i'm not your mother, kid..." you tried to pry her off of you, but her grip was too strong.

"yes, you are! you're my mama! dada always talks about you and shows pictures of both of you. you are my mama!" she yells at you, not giving you space.

"okay, okay, let me see you, right?" she looked hesitant, but eventually she loosened her grip and looked up to you. she was so beautiful and reminded you of someone. "first, tell me your name, huh?" you knelt in front of her, taking her face in your hands.

"nyla..." the girl looks at you with such admiration.

"and where are your parents?" she frowned.

"you're here!" she insists, pouting when you refuse to be her mother. "you've met me! and dada might... be on the ship?"

"what?"

"the ship, mommy! can we go there, please?" her eyes were sparkling.

"fine..." you just accept. she streches her arms out to you, wanting to be as close as possible to you. you pick her up, heading to the sunny.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

"uhm... who's... that girl?" usopp asks as he's the first to spot you with a child in your arms.

"dada!" nyla is quick to let go of you and run to her father, who just stands there, looking shocked.

"HE'S YOUR FATHER?" you yell, as shocked as usopp.

"yes! and you're my mama! and i'm happy to be here!" she points and hugs usopp, who embraces her too.

nami shows up at the deck and frowns. "who-"

"our daughter." you just accepted. it looked so confusing and complicated, you just accepted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

late at night, nyla wanted her father to sleep with both of you, but when you said usopp had to sleep in the boy's quarters, she sulked a bit, but eventually, accepted. it was clear to see that she was attached to you, like your shadow, or an extension of you.

"okay, so, i can stay just by the time you sleep, or else your mother throws me outta the ship." usopp explains casually, smiling, getting in the bed.

"right! i want mommy anyways!" she nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck while hugging you.

"see! i'm the favourite, hah!" you tease the sniper, who crosses his arms, sulking.

"that's not fair, nyla!" he tells her in a whining voice.

right after that, you can feel something wet on your neck and a sniffing.

"nyla, baby, why you're crying?" you push her a bit, trying to see her face. her eyes are red and wet, tears rolling down her cheeks nonstop.

"dada are you mad at me?" the little girl asks her father, whose eyes widen in surprise.

"no, no, i could never, love." he rushes to scoop her in his arms, calming her.

"i just wanna spend more time with mama..." her voice is muffled due to her face being pressed to usopp's chest.

"why that? i'll always be with you, huh?" you try to soothe her, but it doesn't, she sobs even more.

"i just have my dada now, mama. you're not there. i wanna spend more time with you because when i get back you won't be there..." you glanced at usopp, who looked even more panicked than you are.

"hey, come to mama..." you call her and nyla is quick to hug you. "don't think about that, okay? i'm here for you right now." you kiss her cheek, wiping her tears away. "and i won't leave by your side until is your time to get back to your life." she looked into your eyes, trying to catch every inch of your face so she can remember. "now let's sleep so tomorrow we can enjoy more!" she smiled.

"night momma, night dada!" nyla pecked yours and her father's cheek, then she closed her eyes, waiting for her time to be kissed.

usopp and you chuckled, leaning in to kiss both of her cheeks, making her giggle happily.

"night, baby girl." usopp sang, caressing her hair.

you closed your eyes, getting yourself comfortable to sleep and usopp stayed there, just like he said. well, is not like he'll get any sleep that night, after all, now he knows he has a daughter with the woman of his dreams, but she's not there.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤS A N J I

the moment he saw a little girl looking for her parents, he'd be stunned. he could clearly see some of your traits on her face, just like your smile – the thing he adored the most about you. but he'd be confused asf, because who's that girl? when she finally introduces herself, saying she's the daughter of blackleg sanji and you, he'd faint. has... his dream just come true?

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ☆ ]

you were in the kitchen with sanji. since the others have just gone to explore the new island, someone had to watch the ship, and you offered to do that. the cook, not missing an opportunity, said he'd be with you, after all, he couldn't let a delicate flower like you alone at an unknown place, right?

at the moment, sanji is cooking like always. he's making some kind of dessert he refuses to tell what it is.

"sanji, are you sure it doesn't contain anything i'm allergic to?" you ask, trying to peek at some of the ingredients.

"please, my swan, i'm not some kind of inexperienced chef, am i? i would never cook something you're allergic to. now, please, take a seat and be ready, i'm almost done." he says and you do, taking your seat and preparing yourself. sanji turns around, placing the plate with the colourful dessert in front of you. "et voilà! hope you like it!"

"i always appreciate your cooking." and you take a little bite. your eyes roll in pleasure. you're so lucky to have a sous chef in your crew.

sanji just looked at you in awe. he could move a mountain if it meant he could get you smiling.

"excuse me!" an unknown voice shouted from afar. you shoot a glance at the cook who is doing just the same.

"can't believe i'm being interrupted..." you murmur, taking another bite before heading to the deck with sanji following you.

there you were welcomed by a girl. her blue dress was a little dirty and you wondered if she has fallen.

"can we help you?" the blond cook asked her in a soft voice.

"uhmm... yes..." she looked a little hesitant. "i know it may sound a bit... unusual, but... my name is heaven and... i'm your daughter..." she avoided your gaze.

a loud thump was heard and you looked at your side. sanji has just fainted.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ ... ]

caught by some headache, sanji woke up. he was lying on the hammock...? but, i was on the deck...? well, he had some kinda dream. not weird, but the perfect dream! that might be the reason for that headache.

hearing distant voices, he waltzed through the ship, going to the kitchen. there, he could see you and the same girl in his dream!

"what?" he mumbles. heaven notices him and signs to you.

"oh, sanji, dear, come here!" you called him so excited he couldn't refuse – not like he would do it anyways. he always does what you say. "do you remember what heaven said?" you ask carefully.

"uhm... she's our daughter...?" the cook says hesitantly, afraid that what he has heard was just a dream.

"yess!" you squeal.

the girl seemed so amused. getting to know her parents when they're not even together yet. in her timeline, they're so in love with each other and her and... now... her mother seems so clueless or just... don't wanna know about him. after all sanji is a womanizer (for now).

"so it's true! hah! i thought it was just a dream, but is true!" now is his time to squeal and that makes heaven smile.

"it's different to see you like that..." the girl points out. "you know... having your hair hiding your eye."

"uhm..." he clears his throat. "it's just part of my style."

"i like your curly brows, dad!" she smiled and that alone would make sanji smile too, but the way she called him, it warmed his heart.

"okay, sanji, we've got you're excited to know you have a daughter-" you start, but he interrupts.

"with you! the most amazing woman i've ever got to know!" he bats his lashes, smiling widely.

"yeah... with me... but we need to know how to send her back to her timeline. she can't be here. she's not supposed to be here. future you and me might be worried... mainly you." you explain and he quickly gets to hug the girl, who appreciates her father's gesture.

"but she's our daughter! would you do that?!" he sounds so desperate, you may just slap him.

"yeah! but only in the future! it'll just mess up our time! maybe we don't even get together anymore."

"okay, kid! see you in the future." he immediately walks away from her, but quickly runs back, clinging to her. "but we can keep her while we don't find a way to send her back, right?"

"yeah! can i?" she joins her father, pouting and batting her lashes.

"fine! you didn't even need to do all that! what would i do to you if not keep you? throw you at the sea?" you ask in disbelief.

"he's the one most likely to get thrown..." heaven points to sanji.

"hey!"

"let's just wait for the crew and give 'em some good news." you smile, watching sanji and heaven get along well.

@LOLASKY ᡣ 𐭩 actually i've wrote sanji's part with the live action sanji in mind. idk he just looks so more mature... actually the live action characters in general!! but yeah wtv- dividers and template by @/cafekitsune

[rowdyluv]

summary:, in which jack and y/n are closer to leaving for Jersey, it’s their last lake day of the summer, but Luke’s friends bring a group of girls who make it impossibly hard for y/n to enjoy her day.

word count: 3.2k

warnings: underage drinking references, bullying(?), fake girlfriend trope, angst, fluff, use of y/n, pet names (toots), use of real names, use of internal thoughts - y/n’s notated by indention and italics, jack’s indention and bolded - , friends to lover, oblivious pining,

notes: any use of names or likeness of real people or places other than restaurants, arenas / players or player’s friends, family members, old teammates etc, are all completely coincidental

© property of quinnylouhughesx43 ; do not copy and re-upload as your own - anywhere. do not place my work inside AI codes, do not translate.

Jack's muscles flexed as he hoisted the last cooler onto the boat, the sound of ice shifting against the plastic echoing in the mid-morning quiet. The sun beaming hot rays down on his bare shoulders as he bent down to put the cooler in the back corner of the boat. Luke followed closely behind, juggling a stash of towels towered on top of a tote of snacks he had probably already laid claims to. He carried the overflowing bundle with perfected ease until he managed to trip over his own feet when stepping on the boat.

Jack’s loud laughter carried over the calm body of water, “It takes talent to trip over nothing moosey.”

Luke tossed his brother a look as he picked up the towels that splayed out across the floor of the boat. “You would know, seeing how you’re supposed to be a top notch NHL player now and you still fall on the ice, when you’ve not even been checked.”

Jack was silent. He didn’t have anything to say in return, his little brother hit a nerve at the mention of ‘supposed to be top notch.’ Quickly he shook it off, kneeling down to help him pick up the snacks that had fallen out of the tote too. It was Jack and Y/n’s last day to spend out on the lake before heading to Jersey for Jack’s preseason training. Jack didn’t want to spend it in a foul mood.

“I’ll be back in a minute, Dukers and the others are here.” Luke carefully stepped off the boat before jogging off the dock, passing Y/n on his way up.

Just the same as any other boat day, she sat on the boat's bench seat at the back next to the captain’s seat. “It’s crazy to think that in two days I’m leaving my mom, my hometown, and moving to an entirely new state.” Y/n suddenly blurted out to Jack. Who was double checking they had all of the life jackets needed.

“You’re not going to back out on me are you?” Jack didn’t turn to face her or look back in her direction. He continued his inspection. He was truly nervous she would have to go another year without someone with him in Jersey.

“No, of course not…after all, all of my stuff is sort of already there in your new apartment..It's just.. Saying goodbye is always hard for me, I'm not exactly great at letting go.” She fell silent and Jack froze in his spot. He was unsure if she had more to say or if she was waiting on him, so he waited silently hoping she’d continue. Because at that moment it sounded like she wasn’t fully convinced herself she was leaving in two days.

A soft breathy laugh was let out and Y/n continued, “But I did kind of make this agreement with you to be in this fake relationship. Don’t you think that would be a bit hard to do with me here and you there?” She played with the ends of her hair from her ponytail, unsure why she would even bring that up today. She didn’t want to think about it until she had to because the anxiety over it was already eating her alive. Yet here she was letting it fall right out into the open. She was terrified of screwing up somehow and having no one believe in the facade the two of them had created.

“Heh.. Yeah, you kind of did..” Jack sounded far away from where she was, distracted almost. He had turned around to face her now, “but that’s also later, it will all be okay. I promise toot.” He offered her a soft smile and took a seat next to her, leaning over into the cooler to grab himself a beer. “Let’s put all that out of our minds until later too, today is just another day. Let’s have fun, yeah?”

Before Y/n could give any form of response shrilling fake laughter and deep voices drew their attention away from one another.

She watched as Luke reappeared with his friends. As each familiar face trickled in, a new female face with a bigger, brighter, faker smile followed. The girls they had brought along were a bit of a surprise, their presence as annoying as they were loud. Y/n felt a knot in her stomach tighten as she saw the way one of the girls, a blonde with a figure that could make even the most stoic of men stumble, was eyeing Jack like a prize catch.

Because he is a prize catch.

Quinn arrived last, his footsteps heavy on the dock as he carried a brand new handle rope for skiing, kneeboarding, and other activities alike. He looked over the crowd and shook his head. He looked over at Y/n, an apologetic smile gracing his lips. She gave him a small one back, feeling a little better knowing he was on the same page she was with their extra visitors, he also was the only one who knows of the girlfriend arrangement aside from the Devils administration, as Jack had confided in him.

Quinn dropped the rope onto the boat and took his spot behind the wheel. “Everything ready?” Quinn asked to no one in particular.

Jack took one last gulp of the beer he had just opened before nodding eagerly. “Yeah, let’s go baby!”

The blonde giggled, her eyes sparkling like the lake's surface under the hot sun. She sidled up to Jack, her hand lingering a beat too long on his arm as she decided to sit right in between them.

The knot in Y/n’s stomach tightened further. She felt like she could be sick from the blatantly obvious come on. Who the hell does this girl think she is?

This is going to be a long day.

Y/n grabbed the red Devils hat that Jack had let carelessly fall onto the boat's floor earlier when he leaned over, feeling the soft fabric against her palms. She placed it firmly on her head, hoping it would serve as an invisible shield against the barrage of flirty glances and suggestive comments from the blonde. Y/n scooted herself as far over to the edge of the bench seat as possible to get away from her. As the boat's engine roared to life, she settled into a comfortable position, pulled out her phone from her backpack, and pretended to be absorbed in scrolling through her ‘X’ feed. The wind picked up speed, whipping her hair into a frenzy around her face as Quinn steered them away from the dock. The periodic spray of lake water was a welcome distraction from the girl's invasive proximity.

Quinn's eyes flicked over to Y/n, noticing the tension in her shoulders. He cranked up the music, the bass thumping in time with the boat's steady rhythm. The noise was a reprieve, allowing her to sink into the music and momentarily forget about the awkward situation. The boat sliced through the water, leaving a frothy trail in its wake. The cool spray on her skin and the smell of gasoline mixed with the smell of the lake created a peculiar serenity that contrasted sharply with the tension in the air.

Jack, catching Quinn's subtle nod in her direction, glanced over at Y/n. Her eyes remained glued to her phone, but he could tell she was far from engaged in whatever she was scrolling through. The blonde had moved on to flirting with Luke's friends, leaving a gap of space between her and Jack that felt like a mile-wide canyon. He leaned over, his hand gently pushing up his cap from her head so he could see her face better. "You okay toots?" he shouted just loud enough over the music for her to hear him.

Her eyes snapped up to meet his, the wind tearing a few longer loose strands from her ponytail to slap against his roody red flushed cheeks. She nodded, giving him a forced smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine," she simply responded back.

Jack didn't look convinced, his brow furrowed slightly. He knew her better than anyone, and the fake cheeriness didn’t sit well on her or with him. He could tell that she was uncomfortable now that he had paid some attention to her, but he wasn’t going to press the issue, instead he leaned back on the bench with a sigh and turned his attention to his older brother engaging him in a conversation about the upcoming season.

The rest of the day unfolded with Y/n retreating further into herself. She stuck to the back of the boat, a norm for her but she was usually involved in conversations or their silly games. But she had seen this play out before, if she got involved in their conversations or games today, one of the girls would find a way to spin a joke off on her. Making it seem innocent, when it truly wouldn’t be.

The atmosphere was electric with excitement, everyone except Y/n seemed to be having the time of their, intoxicated, lives. Jack didn’t seem to notice how reclusive she had become, or if he did he let her be. The blonde, whose name she hadn't caught, had attached herself to Jack like a leech, giggling at every little thing he said, touching him at every opportunity. Y/n felt like she was watching a movie that she had no part in. Her eyes narrowed at the girl’s antics, and she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. This was supposed to be their day, a last hurrah before leaving. Before his season started and their lives got hectic.

“Let’s put all that out of our minds until later too, today is just another day. Let’s have fun, yeah?”

Jack’s words from earlier replayed in her mind at a deafening level.

He doesn’t want me thinking about moving, thinking about the season, thinking about me becoming his fake girlfriend? He wants me to have fun. How am I supposed to have fun when he’s out here ignoring me? Well I mean I did tell him I was fine….and I won’t join the conversation but… He’s my Jack..

As the boat slowed down to a gentle drift she was pulled from her thoughts as Jack yelled out it was time to swim. Y/n’s heart sank as the blonde and her entourage turned their attention from Jack to her. "You coming?" one of the girls asked, her voice dripping with sweetness that didn't quite hide the sarcasm.

Y/n took a deep breath and nodded, slipping into the cool water. The relief of the water's embrace washed over her, but it was short-lived. The other girls followed. Jack and the guys raced one another to see who could swim the fastest to a designated marker. Y/n started to follow them out to their starting point, before deciding it was probably best to retreat to the boat. Being in the water with females who didn’t have her best interest in mind was not a good idea. She turned around to swim back and was met by the girls’ laughter that quickly turned to sneers the moment the boys were out of earshot. They circled her like sharks, their eyes assessing and cold. The blonde was the ringleader, her smirk a challenge as she pushed closer.

"You know, it's pretty sad," one of the girls began, her voice unintentionally carrying further than intended over the water's gentle lapping. "Jack only brought you because he feels bad. You're like a charity case, tagging along because he can't say no."

The blonde giggled, her eyes never leaving Y/n's. "Yeah, it's like bringing your kid sister on a date to a theme park so she doesn't feel left out." The other girls snickered, their words stinging like jellyfish tentacles wrapping around her heart.

"I mean, come on," another girl chimed in, her voice nasal and grating. "You think Jack's into you? If he was, wouldn't he have already made a move for you? Plus, look at yourself and then look at him. Then you have the fact that he’s a pro-athlete, he can have anyone he wants." By this point Y/n had started to swim away. She had taken enough of their antics, clearly they weren’t a fan of her.

They were only wanting to tear her down, but were they right?

The blonde swam after her, her eyes glinting with spiteful amusement. "You think he'd choose you over someone like me?" She called out when she couldn’t catch up.

Y/n swallowed the knot in her throat as she jerked up a towel and wrapped it around her body. Quinn at some point had climbed back aboard, already nearly dry.

“Huggy, i will give you every penny to my name if you leave right now.” She whispered to Quinn joking, but sort of was deeply hoping that he would take her seriously when he saw her face.

Quinn’s eyes widened at the desperation in her voice, his gaze following hers out to the group of girls. “You okay?”

Y/n nodded tightly, her grip on the towel almost painful. “Yeah, I’m just...peachy.” Her voice cracking over the knot she desperately wanted to keep suppressed down.

Jack’s eyes snapped to her at the word 'peachy'. He was climbing up the boat’s ladder as the words fell out of her mouth. It was their word since high school when said that meant they needed the other without having to say it outright.

Of course he had noticed she had been quieter than usual, but she had pushed him away when he had tried to talk to her early on. Jack figured it was just the reminisce of their conversation from before they were interrupted by everyone else. But the desperation in her voice was clear as a bell, even over the sound of music, different chatter, and other boats speeding around.

His few strides towards her were purposeful and quick, his gaze never leaving her. He softly took a hold of her lower arm, gaining her attention, the water droplets glinting off his bare chest.

The snarky blonde looked up at them from the water, her smirk slipping.

"Everything okay?" he asked, his voice low and concerned, only for her.

Y/n's eyes searched his, hers giving him a silent plea to not do this now. She nodded again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Ye-."

“Don’t do it, don’t lie to me, toots. I heard you tell Q you were peachy. C’mon what’s up? What’s going on?” Jack pleaded, pulling her to the bench seat they had previously occupied earlier in the day. He wrapped his arm around her waist, turning her to face him before pulling her into him. He didn’t care about the wandering eyes of the females now boarding the boat, his eyes were on his girl.

She held eye contact with him for a moment before she sighed heavily and dropped her gaze to the towel piece that she had in her hand.

“It’s nothing, just those girls, they’re...they’re just saying things, Jack. It’s fine.”

Jack’s jaw tightened as he studied her, his hand moving to tilt her chin up so he could see her eyes again. “What kind of things?” He could only imagine what Angelika, the blonde, would muster up.

“They think I’m just some pity invite, that you’re only still friends with me because you feel bad or something,” she murmured, her voice thick with the evidence of barely holding back unshed tears.

Jack’s eyes narrowed and his hand holding her chin squeezed slightly. “They don’t know us, toots. They don’t know how long we’ve been friends, or how much we mean to each other. They don’t get to define our friendship, our relationship.” His voice was a soothing rumble. He dropped his hand to her shoulder, his thumb tracing circles on her shoulder attempting to ease the tension in her body.

“Even more, none of them are the ones i asked to be my girlfriend. Ya know?” Jack whispered into her ear.

“You forgot an important detail with that, fake.” Y/n laughed softly.

“Yeah, yeah but just to be safe incase others overhear, i just dropped it.” They were both laughing now.

Jack knew she was still upset, and uneasy. The two of them weren’t set to begin their arrangement until sometime after arriving back in Jersey, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to and needing to show her off after hearing what all was said. So he grabbed his phone, placed his Red Devils cap back on her head, and snapped a picture of her with the lake behind her, her smile still a bit forced but beautiful regardless. He posted it on his Instagram story with the caption 'My girl looks good in red'. The reaction was instant. His followers went wild, their excitement palpable through the screen. The likes and replies started rolling in, and Y/n couldn’t help but feel a bit more relaxed with every positive notification he received.

The blonde's eyes widened as she saw the post, and her flirty giggles turned into a scowl. It was clear she wasn’t expecting this turn of events.

“Pick out your favorites, then I’ll post them. Everyone will know then, but there will be no mistake. You’re not a pity friend. Never have been, never will be.” Jack nudged the side of her head with a simple harmless kiss to her temple.

Jack handed y/n the phone, scrolling through their photos together, looking for the perfect ones to post. The boat ride from the swimming spot had been filled with laughter and smiles, shared between just them. Y/n’s heart fluttered and she had a permanent smile on her face as she took in how many of their happy moments captured Jack had on his phone from throughout the years. His camera roll was taken up by hockey, her, the two of them, and he and his family, random memes here and there, but mainly it was them. He had her pick out a couple pictures she wanted him to post on his page as they sat cuddled up, her arm around his waist, his hand resting on her shoulder.

It was nothing new to anyone who has been around them before, but infuriating to the girls.

Y/n had picked her pictures, but before she could hand Jack his phone back, she had been lulled to sleep by the soft rock of the boat and the comfort of being with Jack. Quinn noticed she had fallen asleep when Jack’s phone fell to the floor of the boat. Jack carefully moved her to where her head was lying in his lap and Quinn covered her with another towel. Quinn handed Jack his phone and he finished making the post.

“Rowdy, do you think this is going to all work out?” Quinn asks his middle brother just loud enough for him.

“It’s me and y/n, Q.” That’s all Jack had to say before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes for the remainder of the ride.

it’s me and y/n…it has to work out.

note: pictures below are the ones jack posted (all from Pinterest)

his instagram story post

pictures in his actual post

note: hi! read this blurb next!

[sanguineterrain]

im begging you to write a part 2 of vigilante reader because the way you write??? the dynamic between reader and jason??? the sex tension???are chef kiss!!!

thanks very much! part 2 and I couldn't put off the reveal bc I'm just too impatient lol 🫶 but I might write another part post-reveal? maybe? cuz I'm growing attached to these two <3

jason todd x gn!vigilante!reader (nocturne). tw explosions, smoke inhalation, reader passes out, canon typical violence, identity reveal, asshole bruce. jason is in love? jason is in love.

read pt 1 here! | all fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary

****

"Go home."

"Bruce, I—"

Bruce looks at you, eyes sharp with fury and... something else. Something older.

The others know how to talk back. You still haven't gained the courage to sass The Batman.

"Go. Home. If you need an escort, I can call Superman."

You take a step back at his coldness.

"Bruce, I know I messed up, letting Hood escape but—"

"Yes, you did. You deliberately disobeyed an order. I told everybody to stand down. He could've killed you."

But he didn't, you don't say. He could've, but he chose not to.

He'd felt safe.

"I had it under control, honestly. He wasn't—it wasn't like the other encounters you've had with him. He wouldn't have hurt me."

That is the wrong thing to say. You realize that after the words leave your mouth and the muscles in Bruce's jaw jump.

"You can't be this naive. I know I wouldn't have chosen someone who's this naive," he says savagely. "You know Hood can't be trusted, and you're defending him to me. We've seen time and again he's rogue. He doesn't make sense and that's exactly why he's dangerous."

"But if you would just listen—"

"Enough," he snaps. "Enough. Go home. I'm suspending you for three weeks."

"Three w—I'm not even injured!" you cry.

"No, but you need the time. You're not thinking clearly. Go. I don't want to see you until next month."

You press your lips together before you say something truly foul. Something about Batman's habit of pushing people away. Something about dead Robins.

You don't let the tears fall until you leave the Cave. This is all Hood's fault. You know it would've been a different conversation if you'd managed to successfully capture him.

You'll take down the Red Hood if it's the last thing you do.

****

It takes you approximately two days to break your suspension.

In your defense, you meant to follow Bruce's orders. You would've stayed put and helped Barbara with research instead.

But not at the expense of civilian lives.

"All units to Canal and Riverview, 10-80. Standby. Do not enter the factory until given clearance from the Bomb Squad."

You turn off the police scanner and stuff it in your drawer. In Gotham, explosions usually come in multiples. If there's one, there's bound to be another. The police are generally inept when it comes to evacuating civilians. You know one of the other Bats are on their way, but you're the closest to the docks.

You glance at your suit. No. If you go as Nocturne, Batman might suspend you indefinitely.

You grab your gas mask and put on a black hoodie and a domino mask. You'll just have to make do.

The marina is blanketed in thick smoke. It makes your eyes water. But in the commotion it causes, you're able to slip past the barriers and help workers out of the factory. It's difficult because without the suit, people don't give you the same trust and respect. But you're anonymous, and that's all that matters.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

You ignore the voice and keep hauling two elderly workers towards the exit. They're barely outside before you turn around, determined to clear every level of the factory.

You're yanked backward by a hand on your hoodie. You nearly lose your footing, but the hand is firm, dragging you towards the pier.

You're spun around and put face to face with a red helmet.

Oh, of all the fucking—

"Let go of me!" you shout, smacking his arm. Hood's grip tightens.

"I will as soon as you stop doing stupid shit. What were you thinking, coming here?"

You pause. Whoops. This isn't how a plain civilian would react to being apprehended by the Red Hood.

And that's definitely not how the Red Hood would react to getting swatted by a random civilian. Shit.

"I was, um, I was thinking I could help," you say haltingly. "P-please don't hurt me, Mr. Hood, I was—"

Hood sighs and lets you go, then tucks his gun into his holster.

"Cut the shit. I know you're Nocturne. I also know that you need some acting lessons because what the hell was that? Mr. Hood?"

A chill washes over you. "I don't know what you mean. Nocturne?"

Hood shakes his head. "I don't have time for this. The building's gonna collapse any second. Stay. Put."

He goes back toward the smoking entrance. Your eye twitches as you follow him.

"Last time I checked, you don't have that kind of authority, Hood."

He turns around and looms over you. "Don't I?"

Anyone else would back down. You might've a week ago. You should, after the tongue lashing Bruce gave you.

But there's no soot on Hood's helmet or vest. He doesn't smell sweet like gasoline or pungent like motor oil.

He was in the factory to help.

Something shifts. Batman is wrong. Batman is more wrong than he's ever been.

Because Hood's not the enemy here. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.

You push past Hood. "It'll be faster if we work together."

"Oh, absolutely not. You're not even in your suit."

"As per your request," you say, flashing a plastic smile. "You're welcome."

"Don't get cute with me, you—hey!"

You dart past him and go straight into the factory. Hood shouts your name, which makes you pause, just for a moment.

But revealed identity or not, you need to clear the building. So you pull on your mask and run faster.

Your worst fear is confirmed when you check the upper level: someone was missed in the evacuation. It's a worker, and she's unconscious.

You don't think about how explosions come in pairs in Gotham. Don't think about how long it'll take to get to the exit.

You take off your mask and slide it onto her face. The smoke burns your throat immediately, but you ignore it and lift her in a fireman carry, just as you were taught all those years ago by Robin. He's the one who taught you how to save people without relying on brute strength or height.

You hope he's alright, wherever he is. You hope he's not too upset seeing you rush into a burning building.

That's your last thought when you see the entrance. Your face is covered in sweat and grime. The heat from the fires is exhausting. You can feel your eyes beginning to close.

"There's something seriously wrong with you," a decoded voice says in your ear, and then the woman's weight is lifted from your shoulders.

Hood grabs your hand, the woman over his opposite shoulder, and you make it out just as the second explosion goes off. It knocks you forward.

Hood puts the woman down just in time to catch you. His arm is around your waist, the other hand cradling your head. His gloved thumb touches your mouth, and you feel his dawning realization as he finally sees your mask on the woman.

"Don't tell Ba'man," you slur.

"Jesus fuck—" Hood starts to drag you. You feel lightheaded. He's moving, and you wish he'd stop. "You don't take off your mask. You never take off your mask. We taught you that!"

"She was unconscious, J'y..."

Arms tighten around you. Everything goes dark.

****

You wake up to the smell of scrambling eggs.

For a moment, you just bask in the smell. It smells like Alfred's breakfast scramble. Bacon. Butter. Golden potatoes.

Then you wake up further and realize that you're not in the Manor. You're in your apartment.

So who's cooking?

You get up quietly, slipping out of your room. You pause in front of the full-length mirror.

Honestly, you've looked worse. Your hair needs a wash, and you're in the same clothes you went into the building with, which are now a little charred. But your face is clean of soot, and your throat hurts only a little.

The kitchen sink runs. You slowly creep out into the living room, keeping your breathing even and silent.

The mess of black hair, you recognize. Sort of. You might've mistaken him for Bruce if you didn't know that Bruce has a lifetime ban from kitchens all over the world.

He's too tall to be Dick. Too skilled in the kitchen to be Bruce. Too nice to be Bruce, too—you can't imagine Bruce Wayne making you eggs. Especially when you disobeyed his orders. Again.

The red helmet on the kitchen stool turns your blood to ice.

You grab the letter opener from a drawer and wait a few seconds to see if Hood's heard you. Then you throw the letter opener with near perfect aim at his exposed shoulder.

He catches it without turning.

Your heart skips a beat. Every time you think you might get the drop on him, Hood reminds you just how competent he really is.

A mix of fear, aggravation, and something you don't want to examine too closely swirls in your gut.

"Impressive," he says. "Dami been training you? Mama Al-Ghul spent a lot of time on his knife lessons."

"Why are you in my apartment?"

Hood sets the letter opener down on the counter and turns off the stove. Then he serves the breakfast scramble on two plates, then sprinkles chives over them.

This is the weirdest kidnapping ever.

He sighs, back still facing you.

"You can't tell anyone it's me," he says.

"You make a lot of demands for a guy who just used the last of my eggs."

Hood laughs. It sounds wet. It sounds like grief.

"God, I've missed ya, honeylove."

Your heart pounds. You try to find another weapon, anything. Hood doesn't give you the chance.

He turns around.

The first thing you see is the stark white streak of hair and the curls you once loved. The curls that were near unrecognizable in the casket.

You were right: Batman was wrong.

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.11

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Ch. Notes: Violence, Physical assualt

Summary: Fisk is not happy with the way things turned out regarding the docks. He makes his own power play in retaliation that puts everyone on notice.

An: Sorry for not updating yesterday guys but Im planning on posting again before Monday to make it up to you

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wilson Fisk was never one to shy away from the reality of a situation. To him, living life in such a make-believe state would not propel him to the success that he craved. He had built an empire, a kingdom, but had no one to share it with. He lost his family, and with them gone, the only thing to fill the void was power.

Fisk was addicted to it. He needed it. It was only thing that made him feel good. So, though his empire was large he was acutely aware that it wasn’t the largest. The Maximoff’s presence cast a large looming shadow over his own. So, he looked to take care of that problem.

Fisk knew he would shoot Dragos Maximoff as soon as they agreed to meet in private. He assumed the Sokovian was a man of his word and would come alone. He was mistaken, and he hated making mistakes.

Knowing that the Dragos was hospitalized was good, at first. Fisk didn’t care if the man lived or died because he thought that without Dragos in the way the Maximoff’s would crumble. He was again, mistaken.

The reality of the situation was that Wilson Fisk underestimated the remaining Maximoff’s. He was foolish to believe that New York city would become his so quickly.

An oil spill was clever. It was big, messy, and destructive, but it would always go over as an accident. Fisk realizes that simply blowing up the pier wouldn’t have halted things as much. The play was high IQ.

His large fist slammed against his desk nearly snapping it in half. While the Maximoff’s were getting calls placing orders, Fisk was taking order cancelations. He was having the people he got on his side retract their support. He was losing the power, and he would not take kindly to giving up anymore.

Watching them retreat would never be enough.  He wanted the Maximoff’s to crumble beneath him, to beg him for mercy. They had embarrassed him in one foul swoop and he would stop at nothing to have them burn with the same feeling.

You weren’t naïve enough to believe retaliation wouldn't be coming. It arguably was giving you anxiety. All the waiting and looking over your shoulder would've taken a larger toll on you if you were dealing with them alone.

However, you weren’t alone. In fact, contrary to your previous belief, Wanda did not forget the terms you agreed to. You spent your nights between the spy and temporary crime boss.

It became somewhat of a routine. Even if you went to your apartment after work, you’d always end up at their place soon after. It’s nice, and that's why you refuse to question it.

It helps you sleep restfull, but occupies too much of your mind when you're awake. It makes you feel like a teenager. The only person you can confide in is Kate. You tell her, but she’s not much help. Kate encourages this and pushes you to take more emotional comfort from the women.

Your feet hit the ground a little harder than normal as you run this morning. You think about the familiar, almost instinctual attraction you have for Wanda. Then your mind turns to the new undiscovered feelings you have for her wife. You found yourself craving to be in proximity with the Russian more and more.

Natasha had a warmth around her. She had no problem taking the backseat and blending in, but the moment she sensed anything was amiss she sprang into action quickly. Recently she had started making sure you had a lunch at work after Kate told her you’d usually skip it. There was no point in trying to turn down anything from the woman. Though you hadn’t known each other long it seemed like she just understood you.

You’re too occupied with your thoughts, and not paying enough attention to your surroundings. When you stop running, you go to turn around but a firm hand on your shoulder stops you. A gun is pressed firmly against your spine.

“We’re going to have a little chat. Now keep walking,” the man says guiding you with his hand.

You don’t say anything, you simply follow his instructions. Your nerves don’t fret, even as he directs you to an alley. Once you’re out of public view, he turns you to face him.

“Y/n, high ranking employee of the Maximoff Family,” he spoke, the gun now aimed at your sternum.

“Fisk,” you’re glare is unwavering.

He sizes you up, “Aren’t you a sweet little thing? Unfortunately, I’m going to have to put a dent in that pretty face you got.”

“Killing me would only hurt you in the long run,” you say to him.

He smiles, “It would, you’re absolutely right, but hurting you sends a message.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you keep your eyes on his.

He laughs, “Me? No, I don’t get my hands dirty for people like you. I’m only here to make sure you relay this to whoever’s in charge. Tell them that I won’t stop, tell them that surrender is no longer an option, and tell them they should keep an eye on the hospital.”

The last line sends you over the edge and before you know it, you’re attempting to disarm the mob boss. Your movements are fast but as soon as the gun is in your hand, you take a blow to the knees. You fall to the floor and the gun slides out of your hand.

Fisk bends down and picks up the gun, he tucks it into his coat. He looks down at you with a smile on his face, “Make sure she's recognizable boys. Until we meet again sweet thing."

You move to the closest man to you and immediately twist his neck with a satisfying snap. He drops onto the floor and before you can get to another you're on the floor with him. The men stomp you out harshly.

That’s when you notice your predicament. The alley that had once been empty was now filled with Fisk’s men. The large man himself, gets into a car at the end of the alley which drives away promptly.

The men circle around you, but you refuse to be fragile in this moment. You slowly stand and look at the men, there’s around 8 of them. It seems like time works in slow motion.

Once they’re certain they have the upper hand they begin to get more creative. They start using their fists and elbows connecting anywhere they can. The screams don't displace the pain you feel.

Your attempts to fight back only anger them further. You don’t know how long the beating continues for. You feel yourself slip in and out of consciousness a few times.

Blood coats your body in multiple places. You can’t tell when it starts or stops. You can barely breathe when they finally stop their assault.

“Send the Maximoff’s our regards,” one of the lackeys spit on you before laying a final nasty kick to your gut. He walks out of the alley with his men behind him.

Your back lay flat against the concrete as you stare up at the sky. Turning your head hurts, but you do it anyway. Carefully, you scoot yourself over to the wall and try to prop yourself up.

It was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you. You should’ve been home by now and you weren’t. Knowing Wanda and Natasha the search party would be deployed soon.

However, keeping your consciousness was becoming a task. Your breaths are shallow and labored. The pain finally starts to set in, and tears fall from your eyes. Everything hurts, so much so that you're afraid to try to stand up.

It couldn’t have been longer than half an hour when a car pulls up in the alleyway. Your head hangs heavy, and you hope to God that these people are on your side.

Pietro is the first to reach you. He can’t find any words to say as he sees you in this state. He begins to shake his head as he bends down to get a better look at you. His hand cups your face gently and it trembles.

It hurts, but you reach your hand out to hold his wrist, “Jesus Christ, Y/n.”

You hear more steps approaching, but you stay focused on the man in front of you.  You’re scared for them to see you like this.

“Y/n,” There’s disbelief on her tongue as she whispers your name. She doesn’t want this to be you, but as your bloody tear-stained face raises to meet her eyes, her resolve crumbles.

Wanda can’t help the tears that immediately begin to fall out of her eyes. Your face had begun to swell, blood dripped from your nose, your lip was bleeding too. They could see the bruises beginning to form over your exposed arms and torso.

You gaze over at the other redhead who refuses to look at you. Her body posture is rigid, and her eyes are cast firmly on the ground, you can see how cloudy they are.

“We have to get her to the hospital,” Pietro says.

You nearly scream out, “NO!”

They see the alarm and panic in your face, but Natasha tries to reason with you, “Y/n, you’re hurt badly. They need to check you out or-"

“Bucky,” you cut her off, looking between Pietro and Wanda.

“Y/n, he doesn’t do that anymore and you know that” Pietro says softly.

“Try,” you counter back.

Pietro looks to his sister who nods. He reluctantly leaves his position next to you and pulls out his phone to make the call.

“Why not the hospital?”

You shake your head, but then wince, “It’s not safe.”

“Who said it wasn’t safe baby?” Wanda takes Pietro’s spot and places her hand in yours.

“Fisk, he said- he won’t stop, there’s no surrender, and that we should watch the hospital,” you attempt to struggle to your feet.

“Y/n-"

“We have to get Papa out Wanda. He’s not safe there, we have to move him, we have to,” you begin to work yourself up, the anxiety finally starts to hit you.

It's Natasha’s firm hand on your shoulder that keeps you in place, “Y/n, breathe with me.”

You go to protest, but the look of worry in her eyes causes you to pause. She takes a deep breath in, and you try to copy her, but you end up wincing.

Wanda sees this and lifts up your shirt to see your midsection badly bruised. Her touch is tender as her fingers glide over the faded cut on your side.

“You think anything they did will leave a scar like that?” You say with shallow breaths.

“If they weren't already going to die for doing this to you, I’d kill them for leaving a cut like that on you,” she says pulling your shirt back down.

Pietro walks back over to the three of you, “He said he'll do it, we just have to get her there.”

Wanda scoops you into her arms and walks you to the car. She carefully lays you down in the backseat before getting in herself. Pietro drives and Natasha takes the passenger seat. Wanda’s hand finds its way into your hair, trying to bring you any type of comfort.

“He told them to leave me recognizable, so they didn't focus too hard on my face after awhile,” you say to them.

“How many were there?” Natasha asks.

“8, 7 really, I snapped that guys neck first,”  you recount.

“How did he get you?” Pietro asks next.

You frown, “I wasn’t paying enough attention when I was running. He came up behind me and put a gun to my back.”

“He pulled a gun on you?” You can feel the woman getting upset.

You take your hand and place it in hers, “I will be fine. Bucky’s going to patch me up real nice.”

Once you arrive at the former doctors house, you’re greeted by a less than enthusiastic James Buchanan Barnes or Bucky for short.

“I retired for a reason you know?” He says as he let’s you all into his home.

The sight of you in Wanda’s arms startles him a bit. Wanda asks, “Where are we putting her?”

“Upstairs second door on your right,” he finds himself quickly leading them to the room.

Wanda is careful as she lays you down. They all stand as Bucky begins to prepare for this job.

“What happened to you kid, were you hit by a bus?”

“8 on 1 attack,” Pietro explains.

“The bus might’ve been better then,” Bucky says as he begins to check the extent of your injuries.

You try not to move too much as he pokes and prods your body. Sometimes you hiss, groan, but you don’t flinch.

“So, what’s the diagnosis Buck?” Wanda has her eyes on you as she speaks.

“Luckily, I don't think anything is broken, but her ribs are severely bruised, and I think her right ankle is sprained. Besides that, I think it's just bruising and some small cuts. Her nose is fine, her lips are fine, and her head is fine. She’s going to have to keep her weight off of her leg and wrap her torso until she’s healed.”

Wanda nods, committing the words to memory, “What do I owe you?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing, anything for your family.”

Pietro smiles, “What would take for you to come back and be our family doctor. We’re going to need one soon.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, “What you need a check up?”

Natasha speaks for the first time, “We’re going to war with Fisk.”

He winces, “Definitely sounds like you'll need a doctor, but I’m retired Ms.…”

“Natasha, Wanda’s wife,” she introduces herself.

“Congratulations, I hope you enjoy your marriage like I enjoy my retirement” he speaks genuinely.

“Buck, we could really use you on our side. Without Papa leading us, we need all the help we can get,” Wanda tries to sway him.

“What do you mean Dragos isn’t leading you?”

The room turns somber as Wanda begins to explain the situation to Bucky. The man keeps a neutral face through it all. He lets out a large sigh at the end of everything.

“When this is over, I'm going back into retirement understood?”

Wanda nods, “Thank you.”

After you leave Bucky’s, Pietro drops you all off at home. Wanda and Natasha help you into their apartment. They sit you on the couch with them on either side of you.

“I’ve sent some extra forces to the hospital to keep watch over Dragos. I’ve also told some of my people on the inside to take care of any of those men that did this to you,” Natasha’s jaw twitches as she speaks.

“Good,” you say flatly.

There’s a tension in the room. It’s weird considering how comfortable you’ve all been around each other. However now as you sit silently on the couch the air feels thick.

“You could’ve died in that alley,” Wanda speaks first.

You nod your head slightly, “I could’ve.”

“He could’ve shot you down right there,” she continues.

“But he didn’t,” you counter.

Wanda looks at her wife, silently asking for help. Natasha knows what Wanda wants to do and she supports it.

“Y/n, we have to talk about something, and we don’t know how it’s going to make you feel,” Natasha says taking ahold of your hand.

You nod at her words.

“And please, just listen before you say anything else,” Wanda’s nerves are present in her voice.

“Ok.”

The tension hasn’t left the room. You sit there, between the couple still slightly in pain. You hardly feel it though, all you could feel was the anxious air around you, waiting for the women to speak. It was nerve-wracking, it was stomach churning, and it was scary.

The thought of losing you terrified Wanda. The thought of losing you, without ever telling you how she felt was even more terrifying. She couldn’t wait any longer after the events of the day. It was her sign, and she was ready.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This would be a hard NO for me. Every damned time you have to go out, you need to get in the boat and go across?

So, this is also your land, separated by just enough water to make it crazy. Secure the boat and climb the ladder. That's your shed and driveway. Could this be any more inconvenient? Say you need a new fridge. Do the delivery men put it in the boat and the rest is your problem?

Then you sail across the way back to your dock, that's falling apart. Can, you imagine if you just have to pop out for something, or go for a pizza?

Your cute home. Can you imagine doing this everyday to go to work, get the kids to school? Skate across when it freezes. This is a 1987 build in Amityville, NY, famous for the Amityville Horror. Has 3bds, 2ba, asking $535K. Well, let's go inside.

The owners have already moved out. Wonder how that went. They left the fridge, of course, and must've given up when it came to these chairs and rug. So the living room is nice. Funny, this is the only glimpse of the kitchen and the fridge is in the living room. I suspect foul play.

Has doors to the deck.

Up on the 2nd level there's an open room like a loft. Has a nice skylight. Is that a dehumidifier they left?

This bedroom has original flooring.

This one also has an original floor and a view of the deck. House is plain, I wish it had more charm.

Bath #1. What is the photographer standing on?

Bath #2 is a shower room. Where does the waste go, into the river?

If there's one thing this house has, it's decks. The one out front is like a huge covered porch.

In the back, this one has a picnic table.

There's room on the island for a nice yard.

This looks like a corner table for one. Like a writing desk or a place to set up an easel.

Now, here we are across the river where you keep your vehicles which must include a boat and a car. It's so close, though, I would get a jet ski just to get across.

Remember, this land comes with it, so the owner has a ladder, shed, and driveway. I guess you can't built a bridge, b/c the neighbors must have boats that need to get thru. How inconvenient. But, if you have the money, it would be a great summer home.

https://www.coldwellbankerhomes.com/ny/amityville/63-riverside-ave/pid_58789263/

[gloomwitchwrites]

Desolate

Kylo Ren x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: survival horror, chases, brief description of injury, psychological horror, force sensitive!reader

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Requested by @id-get-sleazy-for-ron-weasley for 3.5k Spooky Bingo (Liminal Spaces)

You awaken to a menacing presence aboard the starship you travel on. The crew is missing. The ship is empty. But you are not alone in the dark of space.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // 3.5k spooky bingo masterlist

It is fetid silence that wakes you.

Even in sleep, the Force is always there, a constant companion. But there is something foul afoot, a strangeness that slips in and dulls your senses.

You awaken to darkness and the emergency light above the door. It is on, glowing a deep bloodied red that only adds to the itching rot that sits beneath your skin.

You want to scratch--to claw like you can peel away the flesh to reveal the disturbance underneath. It's not cold or hot but an irritating nag that you want to slap aside.

Pushing up to a seated position, you press into the Force and find...nothing.

Nothing.

It is empty. Desolate.

You've never felt absence before.

Approaching the door, you press the button on the panel and step out into the hall. All the lights are off except for the red emergency lights. They don't blink or pulse, and no alarm blares. It's completely silent, as if you're suspended in a singular second of time.

Closing your eyes, you push out into the Force again. Again, you feel nothing, and then--

Sharpness. Darkness. Anger. So much of it.

Like a boulder down a mountain, it crashes into you, entering through your nose and mouth to wrap around your brain and squeeze. You choke, gag, and are pushed out of the Force as if you've been slapped.

You stagger, one hand pressed against the cool metal wall as you attempt to steady yourself.

Something is coming. Lurking.

It does not hide. It does not wait.

It is coming. Running.

The ship is empty. The ship is empty, but you are not alone.

You are not by yourself.

Instinct rises, and you take off, rushing toward the escape pods. Whoever or whatever lurks on this vessel with you is hunting. They are the predator, and you the final prey. There is no one else.

You move as quickly and as silently as you can. Your stalker is there, a quiet caress like breathing against the back of your neck. You do not see them, but they are here aboard this ship.

The entire trip to the escape pods is uninterrupted. The corridors are clear and unobstructed as if everyone on board was whisked away without disturbing the environment. There are no bloodstains or blaster burns. Nothing to indicate that something awful happened here.

And yet, you feel nothing. 

Everyone is gone. Everyone--

The doors to the escape pods open, revealing the massacre. Your heart stops and drops into your stomach. Shock blooms, followed by dread, and a great sadness that turns your veins cold.

They are all gone. Broken. Shattered. In pieces.

Some of the crew fell with their arms outstretched, fingers scratching at the control panels in one last attempt toward freedom. But there is no freedom. No escape.

The lights above the escape pod docks are not green but red. Each one is empty. Each one is gone. Did anyone escape? Did anyone survive?

Will you survive? Will you escape this place?

Step back and out into the hall, the door slides shut with a muted whoosh. You linger in the blood-red glow of the emergency lights, in the long corridors that seem to stretch on endlessly and turn the corners into shadows.

The only other choice is to head to the helm, to take control of the ship and figure out what might be wrong.

That is where you go. That is where you walk. But every time you turn a corner, you only find another corridor, another hallway, and an endless number of doors. None of them open or budge.

An endless loop of walking, turning a corner, trying a door panel. Fear creeps in, biting around in your chest until it feels like it'll explode from you like parasitic larva.

A fever dream. It must be. You are sick and this is all in your head.

You continue on, walking and turning and trying every door. Again. Again. Again.

There are tears in your eyes. They stain and sting your cheeks. You are desperate now. Hungry. Throat dry and senses spiraling.

Jedi. 

You hear it in your head. A whisper.

Jedi.

Glancing over your shoulder, you see a figure all in black lurking at the end of the hall. A helmet. A mask. A black cape.

Jedi.

The word is strange. Someone once called you that, but you didn't think much of it. The Force has always been there, wrapped around you in a comforting embrace. But this stranger speaks it as if they know you.

You reach out through it and meet a wall of anger. It is roiling. Tumultuous. You sense a desire to claim, to seize control, and make you submit. Bending the knee or spreading your legs makes no difference. The dominating demeanor of this stranger leaves no room for interpretation.

They intend to catch you. That is why they are here.

Jedi.

No. You will not go. Not willingly.

Without guessing who this might be, you take off. If you can find the mess hall, you'll find a map of the ship. You can form a plan. You can crawl through the ductwork. Anything.

As you charge around a corner, your hunter appears at the other end. You slide to a stop, backtrack, only to find them at the other end. Is this an illusion? Are they playing a trick?

You decide to push it aside, to not allow your mind to question. Moving on is the best bet. Finding the helm and seizing control is the only option.

Turning around, you carry on, finding more endlessness until you don't. Until the double doors of the helm stand before you, appearing suddenly and without you having to look.

Surely, this must be a dream. What else could it be?

As you approach, the doors open, and there is your stranger. Their back is to you, but as they shift to gaze behind them, you glimpse your first clear view. You know that helmet. You've seen him before.

This is the First Order's favorite son. There is no escape. There never was.

"Kylo Ren," you whisper.

taglist:

@glassgulls @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @foxxy-126 @km-ffluv

@sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @ninman82 @beebeechaos @no-oneelsebutnsu

@whisperwispxx @weasleytwins-41 @enfppuff @padawancat97 @garfunklevibes2012

@pigeonmama @nomercyforthewarrior

[annwrites]

⸻ corsets & clockwork one-shot collection

· pairing: assassin!jacaerys x fem!reader · type: one-shot (collection) · summary: to get out of the group apartment for the night, you go onto the rooftop, but jace of course follows you up. · word count: 677

Zepplins and airships soar along slowly through the cool night air.

You sit perched atop the ledge of the brick rooftop of the apartment complex, watching them idly.

You then look down and study the faraway cobblestone streets below, watching as gas lanterns flicker, warding away the looming dark that engulfs narrow alleys and alcoves people skulk through and tread along. The occasional clop of hooves echoes as wooden and metal wheels roll along, taking passengers to their destinations for the evening.

It being this time of night, however—the large clock in the town square near to tolling midnight—there are only few places they could be headed to.

Casinos, perhaps. Or brothels. Or, to the docks to do business which would otherwise be deemed unseemly were it to take place in the light of day instead. If not illegal, most likely.

You're interrupted from your assumptions by the soft scuff of boots, but don't bother with turning your head.

You've everyone's gaits down-pat now, including his.

Especially his, maybe.

You ignore that fact.

"Get down."

You roll your eyes. "Why?"

He takes a few steps closer. "Because I told you to. You don't need more reason than that."

You snort quietly and slowly swing your legs to and fro while leaning back, pressing your palms to the hard brick beneath you. "I'm perfectly comfortable where I am."

He lets out a low curse, which instils within you a small sense of satisfaction.

Whenever you're both in the apartment at the same time—which isn't incredibly often—he always leers at you from across the room beneath furrowed brows, with a dark gaze, and a tightly clenched jaw, so you come up here to escape, and still he's displeased.

"You're making me nervous up there. If you fall—"

You stand suddenly and he clamps his mouth shut.

You level your arms on either side of you and begin to imitate a tightrope walker while placing one foot in front of the other—toe to heel, heel to toe—and Jace crosses his arms while a frown tugs at his lips.

"You must think yourself terribly clever, but you're only serving to ignite my ire."

You shrug slightly while smirking at him over your shoulder. "As if that's terribly difficult to achieve."

He grits his teeth.

"I came up here to be alone, you know?"

He steps closer. "Get down. I won't ask again."

You swing one leg over the edge and snicker. "Look—no hands and only one foot!"

He bares his teeth—a sign that his anger has finally reached its limit.

You giggle, strictly from nerves at the unsettling sight, and he quickly reaches out, takes hold of your hand, and pulls you suddenly from the ledge.

You lose your footing and scream in fright as your body lunges in the wrong direction, but he holds firm and you fall into his chest.

He catches you beneath your legs and cradles you against his body while you draw in ragged breaths, trying desperately to calm your pattering heart.

You stare into his dark eyes, half-hidden beneath curls that are of a similar shade, and the words you mean to say—so as to give him a piece of your mind—become stuck in your throat at the sight of him staring at your lips.

Your brows knit together momentarily, and then he practically tosses you down.

You land on your bottom, and a foul word slips from your lips in response to the pain that starts at your tailbone and radiates up your back.

"Ow, Jace! That hurt!"

He glances to the ledge, then back to you. "Imagine how much worse you'd feel had I not pulled you down."

You rise to your feet. "I came up here to get away from you, since all you seem in there is bothered by my presence!"

He rolls his eyes, but of course doesn't deign to reply as he turns and walks to the door.

He holds it open with an expectant look, and you sigh dramatically before going back inside, with him following closely behind.

· tagging list: @emilynissangtr @tvangelism @aemondwhoresworld @cecestea

[loganwritesprobably]

– Sanji with the 2° genre, prompt (u.) 🍡

You know, I never would've paired this prompt with Sanji, but I think its more harsh nature pairs itself well with a masculine reader, so that's what I'll do! This ended up being pretty long so everything is under the cut

Since this is the first one I'll be posting like this I'll just explain - anything where you only requested one character, I assumed was to be paired with a Reader, since I struggled with making a lot of them work as a solo thing.

Content/warnings: Sanji/M!Reader, hurt/comfort, getting together, reader is insecure, Sanji is kinda cruel at the start whoops, Sanji has a gay awakening

You'd been acting off all day, you knew you had, and while the crew hadn't mentioned it you were aware they'd noticed and that they were beginning to worry. Generally, you kept in high spirits. Not today. It wasn't any much, your insecurities had just been getting to you lately. You also felt ridiculous for letting that spoil your mood all day, which was only making your mood worse. You were the least attractive person on the crew, in your opinion (outside of Chopper because who is calling a kid attractive). Most days, you let yourself be confident in the fact that it didn't matter because that didn't make you ugly and you had a good personality so why did looks matter. Some days it bothered you anyway.

You were docked at an island while the log pose set, and pretty much all of the crew had received attention from people (of their preferred gender and not), outside of Chopper, but again, he didn't count (and he'd still had a group of teenage girls call him cute). You? You'd not gotten a single comment or even a look. It just made your stomach twist. It was stupid and you knew it, but it was eating you up inside. Worrying about that just led to more worrying about other things and you were spiralling a little even if you were attempting to pretend you weren't. It wasn't working.

"What's your problem?" Sanji asked as he emerged from the kitchen having just finished cleaning all the dishes from lunch.

"I don't want to talk about it, Sanji." He'd not gotten much attention from women, but oh boy had Sanji gotten attention from men. He'd brushed every one of them off, rather unkindly, and that hurt too. You'd had a bit of a crush on Sanji for ages now, but moments like that told you that you couldn't ever share that fact with the cook.

"Then stop moping! It doesn't help anything, and it's not great for the mood on board." He retorted with a roll of his eyes, and you rubbed a hand over your face with a sigh. You didn't want to lash out, but you really didn't have the emotional availability to be kind in that moment.

"Sorry Sanji, my bad, I'll just pack it all up and ignore it all - God forbid I have fucking feelings." You snapped, pushing off the railing of the Sunny where you'd been leaving to walk away. You didn't want to deal with his shitty attitude today of all days.

-·—·-—-·—·-

You'd hidden away to calm yourself down, then taken a shower to release some of the negative feelings you'd had pent up. Residual negative emotions lingered, of course they did, but you were more prepared to push them aside and put on a happy face. You emerged on the deck and sat down with Robin to talk about the book she'd been reading, allowing yourself and your better mood to be more easily seen by the crew.

"What happened? You really looked upset." Nami asked after a few minutes, having come to sit in her usual spot beside Robin.

"Oh, nothing. Just had a chat with Sanji." You said with a shrug, smiling at them as best as you could.

"I hope you're not spoiling these ladies days with your foul mood." Sanji said as he appeared with two drinks, one for each of the ladies in question. Robin and Nami snapped their heads to look at him, unbelieving he could be so cruel.

"No don't worry Sanji - I took your advice and just got over it. Won't catch me moping again. I'll keep that to myself from now on." You replied, mock kindness on your face and in your voice. You weren't going to start an argument with him, but that didn't mean you couldn't be passive aggressive at least. He fixed a hard gaze on you, but kept his smile in place. Wisely, he said nothing, and left the drinks for Nami and Robin before swiftly returning to the kitchen.

-·—·-—-·—·-

You spent the rest of the day avoiding Sanji, even having asked Robin to save you a plate of food so you could eat away from the rest of the crew and mainly away from Sanji. She'd delivered your plate loyally, and just gave you a smile before leaving you to eat in peace.

Eventually though, the plate did need to be returned to the kitchen. It'd long since gone dark, and you were just hoping that Sanji was elsewhere by now.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," you heard muttered from the kitchen, pausing outside to listen to whoever was so frustrated inside, "can't even be nice just for once. He just makes me so-" it was Sanji, of course it was. You weren't sure what else you'd been expecting. But he was in there, scolding himself, and it sounded like he was doing it over how he'd treated you.

You didn't knock, just pushed open the door and let yourself in, plate still in hand. Sanji stopped stock still, staring at you as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have. You gently set the plate down on the table, pausing for a moment before turning as if to leave again.

"Wait-" Sanji called out, making you pause. There was another beat of silence while the cook found his words.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, hesitating before continuing, "I was unnecessarily cruel. You didn't deserve that."

"Yeah." You simply said, because just saying that wouldn't make him forgiven. You'd never done anything to him, you'd both just always had a joking friendship, where you'd take playful jabs at each other. They were never genuinely cruel.

"I just-" he paused again, fighting with himself to find his words, "you make me.. feel a lot of things that I don't know how to deal with. I just look at you and it all.. bubbles up inside of me and for some reason the only thing that ever gets out is something mean. What I said earlier was too far, and I am sorry. I was just worried." He finished, and you finally turned to face him. Sanji was flushed red, wringing his hands as if he was fighting not to put them elsewhere - his hair your brain helpfully supplied.

"Okay," you started, nodding slowly, "but that isn't a good reason. You didn't even try to get me to tell you. You didn't probe at all, you were rude when you asked what was wrong and then accused me of ruining the atmosphere on the Sunny. That's what you told me and best you can come up with is you were 'feeling a lot of feelings'?" You asked, growing more and more angry, but also more upset. You knew you couldn't have Sanji the way that you wanted him, but you'd at least wanted him as a friend. Maybe that was too much to ask for.

"I'm sorry! I'm not good with words - I can't make my brain tell my mouth what I'm thinking and I really want to help you understand even if you don't forgive me." You would forgive him, you knew you would, this would be petty to lose him over and would jeopardise the crew. But you couldn't be the same after this.

"Try."

"It's different than with other people. You feel- you make me feel different. I don't understand why. I just look at you and it's like.. the whole world stops moving for a minute," Sanji leaned forward, resting his hands on the table and stared right down at the wood rather than looking at you, "I've never felt like that before. It's scary. How am I meant to deal with something I don't understand? So I'm mean to you instead because maybe then it'll go away? I know it sounds stupid. And then when we're out and people look at you.. something just comes over me. I hate it. I just glare at them until they back down because they're not allowed to look at you like that."

You understood suddenly what Sanji was talking about. All this time you'd been so sure of what you couldn't have and in the background Sanji was having his gay awakening because of you. You were desperately trying to hold back, but you couldn't help laughing. He shot up straight as if he'd been struck, wounded by your laughter.

"I'm sorry- I know this is serious. I promise I'm not laughing at you, just the situation really. Sanji.. you have a crush on me. That's what that is." You told him, slowly approaching to close the space between you two.

"No! I- I like women." He defended, but he was hesitant, as if your words had given him clarity.

"Sure. But you also like me."

The two of you stood, silent, staring at each other. You, waiting for Sanji to decide what the next move was, and Sanji, processing the new information. In retrospect, he realised it was a little obvious.

"I acted like a little boy pulling on a girl's pigtails." Sanji muttered, suddenly a little humiliated.

"Yeah, a little bit." You agreed, and the cook just sighed. You both fell into quiet laughter finally, the tension of the entire situation drifting away.

"So uh.." Sanji started after a while, you let him find his words before responding, "what now?"

"That's up to you. I've liked you back for a damn long while now, but you've only just realised. You can go and take your time to process that new part of yourself if you w-" you didn't get to finish your sentence before Sanji's lips were on yours for the first time.

Yeah, now you definitely wouldn't be the same after this.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf

[kachowden]

ruthless, bloodthirsty yandere Pirate Captain X Prince/ss!Reader, either kidnapped or accidentally ended up on the ship nad now cannot leave

The rope dug into the soft skin of your wrists, leaving angry red trails with each thrash and and strive. Your teeth grit painfully, aching against each other as the sounds of water smashed against the wall behind you.

Salt invaded your senses, your eyes burning from the water that dripped from your head. You sneezed at either the smell of the deep, dark ocean, or the cold of your frozen clothes stuck to your skin.

Your brain fogged over what happened, and your body ached with exhaust, though you hardly halted in yours struggles, not till the heavy steps of boots approached the finely crafted door. A slow rasp of knuckles against the door. Then his god awful voice spoke through.

“Knock, Knock.” You could practically hear his foul smile, before the door was swung open far too aggressively. You winced as it smacked against the wall, shoulders tensing as you bared your teeth.

“You have a lot of nerve.” A weak willed threat to hide the fear that guzzled down your windpipes.

The man cared little, as a hoarse and deep laugh roared from his throat. His accessories, likely stolen, dangled with each step, while he approached.

“You’re a yappy little thing arent ya? Could ‘ere you half way to the port.”

“…We’re docked?” The news visibly shocked you, you hadn’t been on the ship for that long, or so you believed. It surely didn’t feel that long. Was there a port near to your kingdom? One you didn’t know about? Or maybe, this cocky pirate had parked on the other side of the island, believing he had time to get away.

“We haven’t even left yet, doll.” You wanted to spit on him. You hoped he understood that he was the muck on your shoe as you stepped past the pig pens.

“Then you are far more foolish and arrogant then I was originally led to believe. The guards will find me any second! I’ll relish in seeing you hauled to guillotines.”

He tutted, a knowing smile that made your skin crawl and throat go dry, as he stepped passed you, slowly. “I wouldn’t be so sure, your highness…”

“We’ve been here for well over a night. No one’s looking for you.”

Those words made you freeze, eyes widening in disbelief at this pirates audacity. Did he believe you an ignorant fool? To boldly tell such lies to your face?

But then…you don’t know how long you’d actually been here. The sick sway in your stomach made it appear like hours. And you had woken up here too. Was the sky the same sky you had seen before you were taken?

It was the same shade of blue and yet…were those the same clouds? Was it greener now? Had you truly been here for hours? Days?? Had no one come to look for you?!

He watched with a sick grin, teeth sunk deep into a deliciously red apple, as he basked in your inner makings crumbling. Personally, he found your resistance cuter then this..look of hopelessness. But this was needed for your eventual cooperation.

And of course he had lied to you. The kingdom was a muck looking for you at the moment. You were just on the side of your little country that few actually were aware of. A safe space tucked beside the cliff side. A pretty spot.

“What do you want.”

Oh? The little doll wanted his attention.

“Hm? Care to elaborate birdie?”

Your bristled visibly at the name, though the deep breath you let out to calm yourself was in its own right commendable. “What is your purpose for stealing me.”

“Saying I stole you, truly makes you sound like you were someone else’s property prior, doesn’t it?”

When you didn’t respond, he sneered, lips pulled into an unpleasant growl as he stepped towards you again, ringed and rough fingers gripping your jaw, sure to leave a bruise.

“Excuse you-!” You nearly gagged when he popped your mouth open, pushing the bitten half of the apple into your mouth like a swine ready to be roasted. Your tongue curled back as far as it could, fearful of touching the flesh of the fruit your captor had eaten from.

His smile returned, in a disturbing satisfaction as his dark green eyes swept across your form.

Had it not been the circumstances. Had it not been for who he was, you’d think his eyes were beautiful. Such a vibrant shade of green, that shines in the golden light. Like sun filtering through spring leaves.

But because of the circumstances, because of who he was, you likened them more to the color of sewage near an old tavern. The color of floating, rotten seaweed that sticks slimely to your skin. Slimey. That was a good word. His eyes were Slimey. As were his hands, his smile.

A degrading tap against your cheek brought you back to the slime before you. You hated that this filth was pretty. You hated that had it been any other circumstance. You might’ve fancied him.

“Rest up now pet, ‘s gonna be a long journey.” He stood with a low grunt, boots echoing against the wooden floor, as his jewels jingled.

“You didn’t answer my question you filth!” Your words were illegible against the apple, as your jaw had been stretched to the max, making it hard for you to spit it out unless you bit down.

The pirate gave little mind to your attempt, simply humming as if he knew what you said irregardless. “You’ll learn in due time birdie. Not try not to cause a ruckus while I’m gone. I’d hate for the dogs to grow nasty.”

And the door slammed behind him, your heart hammering. You didn’t think he meant actual dogs and that’s what made your crawl to farthest corner could, leaning your bound body against the weathered wood.

Your jaw hurt, your wrist hurt. You were tired, emotionally and mentally. And as the weight of the situation sunk in, you felt yourself slump in momentary defeat, eyes fluttering against your cheeks.

Weak, frustrated tears burned behind your lashes.

You prayed for your safety.

You prayed that someone…anyone was looking for you.

But your heart ached, as if it knew a truth you didn’t want to acknowledge.

No one was coming.

On the far side of the kingdom..

A young knight was causing unfathomable chaos.

“Find them! Find them now! If you are withholding information or if any of you pathetic guards are unable to find even a trace of them, your heads will be on the block along with their disgusting captor!”

[justhereforxreaders]

The Prince and the Dragon Rider - Part Six: Pieces and Players

Jacaerys Velaryon x dragon rider!reader

Summary: your party arrives in King’s Landing and the venom of the city begins to take hold.

Warnings: anxiety/panic attack

soundtrack

part one: the oath

part two: tempest

part three: the dawn

part four: the test

part five: precipice

part seven: the rift

Little was said the morning of your departure to King’s Landing. The sun had not yet risen but a dim light through the morning fog was growing over the waves to the east, indicating that the dawn was not far off. Yourself and the Princes had mustered your dragons and gathered among the cliffs above the docks of Dragonstone to watch as the servants loaded the ship with the royal family’s possessions.

You and Jacaerys sit next to each other in the sparse grass as Tempest and Vermax seem to chase each other through the mist above. During your starlight ride with Jace last night, the dragons effortlessly fell back into rhythm like long lost friends. Watching their lighthearted dance overhead brings a wistful smile to your face.

While the two of you watch the dragons in comfortable silence, Lucerys remains upon Arrax’s back, resting his chin upon his crossed arms, looking on somberly. Seeing as Jace’s attempts to lighten his mood during the walk to the dragonmont had been unsuccessful, you decide it’s best to leave him to his thoughts for now.

Shortly after the first rays of sunlight begin to peek over the horizon, you look down to see the last of the parcels and trunks are being placed onboard the ship. Moments after, the procession of guards and handmaids file down the pathway, followed by the remaining members of House Targaryen. A torch is raised up into the air by a guard from the deck of the ship and Luke commands Arrax to take flight. You and Jace stand and stretch your tired muscles then call for your dragons. As Tempest and Vermax make their approach, Jace turns to you with a grin.

“Ready?” He beams.

You roll your eyes playfully as the dragons land beside each other.

“As ready as I can be,” you smile back at him.

Though the three of you could have easily covered the length of Blackwater Bay and reached your destination within a few hours, Rhaenyra had instructed that you remain within eyesight of the ship so that you could all arrive at King’s Landing together.

What began as mindless circles above the vessel, quickly evolved into a race across the width of the bay, zigzagging between the coastlines. Even Luke’s melancholy was not enough to keep Arrax from joining the game. Although distant shouts of protest could initially be heard from the young Prince, they soon become cries of joy as he allows himself to delight in this new experience.

As the sounds of merriment echo through the sky, you are struck by a sudden feeling of nostalgia. Having spent the last three years peacefully on Dragonstone, it had not occurred to you that venturing out into the unknown was something you found great joy in, something you missed even. Only now, you were not alone. Journeying through the sky, alongside the two people you held most dear, was not something you imagined you’d soon grow tired of.

As the day went on, the bay steadily began to narrow as you made your approach towards King’s Landing and a foul stench permeated the air. Though your journey across Essos lead you near many great cities, none of them radiated such a distinctive odor.

Once the ship has docked, you follow Jacaerys and Vermax’s lead over the crowded cityscape towards the dragonpit. The massive domed structure sat atop one of three hills within the walls of the city. It reminded you of fighting pits you had seen littered throughout Essos but far grander than any of them could ever hope to be.

You land in a clearing outside where a small gathering of Dragonkeepers wait, each with large quarterstaffs held aloft. They greet the Princes as they dismount and bow politely to all three of you. Surprised by their cordial greeting, you bow your head in response from behind Tempest’s head. Though as they approach the three dragons, Tempest becomes uneasy and grumbles a warning, eliciting hisses from both Vermax and Arrax. The Dragonkeepers stop in their tracks but stand firmly in place.

“What are they doing?” You ask nervously.

“They escort the dragons inside,” Jacaerys responds, nodding towards impossibly large bronze doors at the base of the dome.

You look down at their expectant faces and gently shake your head.

“No, thank you,” you utter, trying to be stern while remaining polite, “I’ll lead her in myself.”

You urge Tempest forward and the Dragonkeepers make way for her to pass. Upon crossing the threshold, you are greeted by the sight of an impressive stone arena within. You are so enamored by its scale and grandeur that you fail to notice Jace and Luke walking beside their dragons following behind Tempest.

“Spectacular isn’t it?” Jacaerys calls from the ground, a proud grin plastered across his face.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” you admit with a smirk.

Vermax and Arrax excitedly rush forward to a ramp leading below and disappear into the shadowy passage. You dismount Tempest with a groan and move around to her face. Reaching your hand to her snout, you look into one of her golden eyes and nod before pressing your forehead into her scale’s.

“I’ll see you soon,” you mutter then move out of her way so she can join the others.

Whatever progress had been made in lifting Luke’s spirits was immediately lost the moment the three of you filed into the wheelhouse waiting outside the dragonpit. He quietly stared out the window while Jace pointed out various landmarks to you.

Although you had seen The Red Keep while flying over the city, it became more imposing as you drew near from the ground, the red hue of its walls felt like a warning to proceed with caution. As you enter the gates, the sounds of the crowded city behind grow quiet and an eerie silence takes its place. A kingsguard greets the three of you as you exit and hastily leads you into the fortress.

A second guard awaits within and moves towards you, offering a halfhearted bow.

“Please follow me to your chambers,” he says flatly and takes a step in the opposite direction of Jace and Luke.

You look to Jace in confusion and his brow furrows as he moves to stand beside you.

“Where are their chambers?” He asks, emulating both Rhaenyra and Daemon with his authoritative tone.

“The servants quarters, my Prince,” he bows fully, “as instructed by the Queen.”

“Nonsense,” Jace scoffs, “there are an abundance of vacant rooms that are perfectly suitable.”

He wraps his hand around your forearm and gently pulls you away from the guard.

“See them moved into the apartments near ours,” he calls over his shoulder.

“Yes, my Prince,” you hear the guard mumble as you are led away.

“Come with us until this is sorted,” Jace says with a smile, “I want to show you the training yard.”

Despite the unabashed stares that follow as your trio passes by, Jacaerys walks with his head held high. You watch with admiration at your friend’s defiant confidence, imagining what it must have been like to grow up under the shadow of such scornful eyes. Though your skin crawls at their glances and whispers, the idea of someone so young having to endure this treatment day after day makes your stomach turn.

When you reach the training yard, Lucerys perks up momentarily. The sound of combat echoes off the stone courtyard and Jacaerys rushes forward to place his hands on a divot in one of the walls.

“See?” He calls back to the two of you, “I told you this would still be here. And you thought you could swing Criston’s morning star.”

He runs back to Luke and rustles his hair.

“Nearly took your own head off,” he laughs and begins examining the weapons laid out before them.

Upon receiving no response, Jace finally voices his frustration.

“What’s your problem?” He snaps at his brother.

At this, you back away quietly and join the circle of onlookers surrounding the sparing match, giving the Princes privacy to air their grievances.

As you enter the crowd, you watch as a dark haired man swings a morning star at a silver haired figure behind a shield. The morning star sails through the air, missing its mark, and instead finding purchase in the dirt. He quickly pulls it from the ground and swings again at his opponent, this time taking a chunk from the shield on impact. The silver haired man discards his broken shield, revealing an eye patch over his right eye.

With the silver hair and the one eye, you immediately recognize him as Rhaenyra’s half brother, Prince Aemond, the man Lucerys took an eye from. A quiet gasp from behind you confirms your suspicion and you turn to see that the Princes have joined you. You reach out a hand to Luke but are interrupted as a quiet applause erupts from the crowd, bringing your focus back to the finished match.

“Well done, my Prince,” the dark haired man says with a smirk, “You’ll be winning tourneys in no time,” the dark haired man continues.

“I don’t give a shit about tourneys,” he utters flatly then turns your direction. “Nephews, have you come to train?”

You puff up your chest defensively, willing yourself to become a wall in front of your Princes. The remaining eye of Prince Aemond shifts to you briefly before the gates fly open and everyone’s attention is pulled to a lord and his escorts as they trudge through the yard. You look back to ensure Aemond’s focus has moved from Jace and Luke, only to find his gaze still lingers on you.

He looks you over, assessing you closely. You adjust your posture slightly, allowing you better access to your daggers, and he takes notice of the subtle shift. He finds your eyes before turning away with the slightest smirk.

You watch as he walks away, not enjoying the idea of having your back turned to him, until Jace places a hand on your arm.

“Let’s find my mother,” he says and you look to see his gaze fixed on Aemond as well.

Your trio departs with the rest of the crowd and continue to pass through endless staircases and passages when you happen upon Rhaena wandering the halls, walking alongside a girl of similar age.

“Baela!” Jacaerys calls and runs forward to meet them, “I’m glad to see you here.”

“You as well, Jace.” She says with a laugh.

When you and Lucerys reach them you bow politely at the new face. You had heard of Daemon’s eldest daughter but had not met as she was at ward on Driftmark.

Jace places a hand on your shoulder.

“This is y/n,” he proudly introduces.

“Well met, Dragon Rider,” she smiles and nods a bow while Rhaena scowls from behind her.

“Have you seen our mother?” Jace asks of both of them, releasing your shoulder.

“I left her not long ago with the Princess Rhaenys in the godswood.” Rhaena mutters, avoiding eye contact with you at all costs.

“Thank you,” Jace says with a small bow and moves past the sisters, walking forward with purpose.

Lucerys follows suit, leaving you behind momentarily.

“Pleasure to meet you, Baela.” You say quietly before chasing after the Princes.

As you run after Jace and Luke, they come to a sudden halt and you nearly run into them as they make way for a silver haired woman storming down the hallway. The woman glares at the Princes as she passes by and, for the first time since your arrival, Jacaerys shrinks back.

You duck your head as she passes and only once she has disappeared around the corner do the boys continue through a doorway leading to a courtyard where Rhaenyra stands alone beneath the blood red leaves of a heart tree.

“Mother,” Lucerys calls and rushes forward to embrace her, shaking her from her quiet contemplation.

“Hello, how was the journey, my love?” She asks, returning the embrace, making an effort to appear animated for her second son.

You and Jacaerys join the two of them beneath the tree as Lucerys regales his mother with his highlights from his first long distance flight.

“Have you gotten settled in your chambers?” She asks, a faraway look in her eye.

“Not yet,” Jace informs her with an exasperated sigh, “Alicent left instructions for y/n to be housed in the servants quarters. I told them to find something near our rooms instead.”

Rhaenyra smiles but it fails to touch her eyes. She then turns to you.

“Have you enjoyed the capital thus far?”

“It is very different from Dragonstone, just as you said, Princess. I imagine it takes some getting used to.” You admit honestly.

She nods and pulls Luke in once again before planting a kiss atop his head.

“Go get some rest,” she says and removes her arm from around her son, gently guiding him towards his brother, “Jace, please see Luke to his room. I’d like private word with y/n.”

Jace looks back and forth between the two of you, concern clear upon face but he nods regardless. Luke scrunches his face in confusion as he’s pulled away and you shoot them both a reassuring smile before leaving you alone with the Princess.

Once they are out of ear shot, she snakes her hand into the crook of your arm and guides you over to a nearby bench.

“I am very grateful for your friendship with my sons,” she begins in a gentle tone. “As you have already seen, they were not treated as they should have been by their peers and subjects.”

She lowers herself down onto the bench and invites you to sit beside her.

“I know that you and Jacaerys are especially close,” she pauses, taking your hand between hers, “which was harmless enough when you were children, but now that you are both grown, I am afraid I must ask that some distance be put between you.”

Her words force you to inhale sharply and it takes everything in you not to pull your hand from hers as she continues.

“There are certain duties required of an heir to the throne. And I fear your close proximity may restrict his opportunities to perform those duties.” She releases your hand and you pull it back slowly, balling it into a fist as it returns to your lap. “He has been the victim of slanderous murmurs since the day he was born and I do not wish my son’s name to befall any further insult or injury. Whether true or not.”

Her hands fold across her growing belly and she searches your eyes, “Do you understand?”

You turn from her to look at the face carved into the bark of the tree in front of you and nod silently.

“I am sorry to ask this of you,” her tone becomes empathetic and she follows your eyes to the tree before continuing, “I do not wish to cause you strife. But the time for us to gain further allegiances may be approaching faster than anticipated and we cannot afford for Jace appear ineligible.”

“As you command, Princess.” You speak with a quivering voice.

“It is not a command,” she corrects but it makes little difference to you, “it is a request. You may choose to ignore it.”

She stands and places a hand on your shoulder.

“But I know that you truly care for my son. And I trust you will choose what is best for him.”

She removes her hand and walks towards the exit. Before passing through the door, she pauses and calls back to you.

“We would be pleased to have you in attendance tomorrow,” she says with a slight grimace, aware of how conniving her words must sound, “we need as much support for Luke as we can muster.”

“As you wish, Princess.” You stand and turn toward her to bow lifelessly.

A tightening takes hold within your chest and you force yourself to breathe slowly and deliberately. Once the Princess has vanished into the darkness of the castle however, you collapse to your knees, clutching your chest. Quiet sobs begin to radiate through your body and you turn around to lean your back against the bench, tears pouring uncontrollably.

As lovely as the picture of the future Jace painted for you just the evening before was, and as hard as you willed yourself to believe it, you knew the part you were destined to play would inevitably be revealed. And though Jace’s words in the cave had given you some glimmer of hope that you would be allowed to remain by his side, Rhaenyra’s command made it clear that your continued presence in the Prince’s life would not go unnoticed, or without consequence. And neither would your growing affection for him.

You had always known his destiny and thus always knew you would not be able to play a meaningful part in it. Which you had convinced yourself was enough to keep any deeper feelings from arising. But in the skies over Dragonstone, that destiny felt far enough away that you had unknowingly begun to falter in your resolve.

It was easy enough to hide those feelings from yourself. Hiding them beneath the friendship. But now that that was also being stripped away from you, an ache tore across your chest like fire.

You pick yourself up on shaking legs and stumble forward, catching yourself on the trunk of the heart tree. Its eyes ooze a deep red sap and you look upon it like a mirror. A dragon’s screech from above breaks you from its gaze. You jump back and wipe the tears from your face, searching the sky for the source but finding nothing. Suddenly desiring nothing more than to run back to Tempest and escape to the sky but knowing that is a luxury you will be forever denied. Steadying yourself with a deep breath, you turn around and return to the labyrinth you have sworn yourself to, now fully understanding the consequences of such a vow.

• @eywas-heir

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

The Silver Dragon (16)

A Holy Sight

At long last, Arianwyn returns to King’s Landing.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x OC (Daemon and Rhea's daughter)

Warnings: none

Series Masterlist - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Emrys, Vermax, and Arrax were already saddled and waiting in the courtyard when Arianwyn, clad in her riding leathers, raced down the castle’s steps. Emrys immediately lurched forward to try and meet her, but the Dragonkeepers had long since learned their lesson and now had six monks holding his reins to keep him in place. He whined rather pitifully but perked up the moment Arianwyn laid a hand on his snout.

“Lentot jī, Emrys,” she whispered. “Jorrāelti gierȳti lua āmāzī.” We are going home, Emrys. We are going back to the people we love.

He whooped in response, crouching to allow her to mount more easily. She climbed into his saddle, fastening a satchel behind her. The majority of her belongings would be with Brynna and her guards on one of the ships leaving from Spicetown, but not this.

Not used to carrying any cargo beyond Arianwyn herself, Emrys tilted his head as he examined the small bag.

“Arlī mīsītsor, yno syt lo bē Dāro Vilinio māzissuty jonevīlun. Nūmia sepār landir sesīr,” she explained. The dragon looked from her to the bag, then back again, as if confused. “Vaogenkon rongondi jomīston āmāzīnna daor. Dāria yne tolī sȳrī gīmēdas.” Fresh clothes, for me to wear once we arrive. Jewels and shoes, too. I can’t make my return in dirty leather. The Queen taught me too well.

Emrys only huffed, and she imagined that if he could, he would roll his eyes.

The courtyard doors opened, and Rhaenyra and her family emerged. Arianwyn suppressed her smile and straightened her posture, refusing to look any of them in the eye. Though Jacaerys did try to catch her attention as he mounted. He’d been in a foul mood since dinner the night before. She didn’t have a single guess as to why, nor did she care to ask.

Once he and Lucerys were settled in their saddles, Rhaenyra approached, a sleeping young Viserys on her hip. She gave detailed instructions on how to get to King’s Landing and what they were to do from there, but Arianwyn did not listen. She did not even meet Rhaenyra’s gaze; instead, she focused on offering encouraging whispers to Emrys.

Why would she need instruction when she’d spent the last eight years dreaming of flying back?

Finally, Rhaenyra made her way toward the dock. She and Daemon would not fly to King’s Landing while she was heavily pregnant. Instead, they were to sail on the ship with their two young sons – Aegon and Viserys – and the servants and cargo.

Arianwyn was grateful for it. The last time she had flown across the Blackwater, Caraxes had nearly driven Emrys to madness for how close he followed. Today, they would fly free.

The sight of the shining red roofs of King’s Landing brought more comfort to Arianwyn than she had anticipated. How could simple tiles bring forth such a feeling of home?

While Vermax and Arrax dutifully flew straight for the Dragonpit, Arianwyn led Emrys in a wide circle before she landed, wanting to soak in as much of the city as possible before she was stuffed in a carriage with her stepbrothers. The sun was infinitely warmer than on Dragonstone, and while there was still the smell of salt coming off the sea, it was far more inviting than the fishy, wet brine she’d endured for so long.

The moment they landed, Emrys let out a joyful roar, overcome with excitement to finally be home. The Dragonkeepers never had the chance to take his reins, for as soon as Arianwyn dismounted, he scampered into the mouth of the Dragonpit, seeking his long-lost companions.

One of the young female Dragonkeepers allowed Arianwyn to use her room to change into her gown and stayed to help adjust the folds of the silk, straighten the braided silver and bronze chains of her necklace, and release the wind-blown tangles from her silver curls.

But when she finally climbed into the carriage, her stepbrothers were not impressed by her appearance.

“We’re going to be late because of you,” Jace complained, pounding the ceiling to signal their departure as he glared at her.

Arianwyn ran her eyes over his attire – a worn gray gambeson that made him look more like a squire than a prince. Luke wore the same. She shrugged and curled her lips in a saccharine smile. “At least I will look presentable when we reach the castle.”

He scoffed, “What do clothes matter? I am the future King, no matter what I wear.”

“What you wear can send a message,” Arianwyn replied, perhaps more curtly than was necessary. “For those of us who cannot speak so freely as a ‘future King,’ we must rely on more subtle methods to convey our opinions.”

“And what message does this dress send?” Jace asked with more venom than she’d heard before. He reveled in teasing her but had never truly sounded hateful toward her. Why did he do so now?

Luke repeatedly banged his forehead against the carriage window.

Perhaps Jace was angry because he understood the message she was trying to send and wanted her to say it aloud so he could have something to report to Daemon.

The elaborate, flowing gown was made entirely of the finest black and bronze silk brocade, with hundreds of tiny round beads made of blackened steel stitched into the bodice and sleeves, evoking the appearance of a set of pauldrons. Her jewels were entirely set in bronze, save for the single silver chain woven into her necklace – the same necklace Aemond had chosen for her on her thirteenth name day.

The ensemble practically screamed her message: I am not one of them.

But she could not say that. Not to Jace, who would immediately report what she said to Daemon. So she pursed her lips and gave a pretty lie, “It sends the message that I am a beautiful and civilized young woman. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Jace scoffed again and turned away from her, watching the pale stone of the city rush past them. For the rest of the ride to the docks, Arianwyn wore a self-satisfied smile, though she fiddled nervously with one of the stones on her necklace: a single, tear-shaped sapphire.

The mood in the carriage lightened significantly once Rhaena joined them. She was the only person who could ever create peace between Arianwyn and Jace.

She had not been permitted to bring Morning with her, as the long journey would have been difficult for the still-young hatchling. So, she talked ceaselessly about how much she missed the little pink creature, worrying that she would somehow miss all of his youth in the few days they would be gone. The others sympathized with her, and all tried to cheer her with stories of their dragons’ adolescence.

But silence fell once more when they rode into the courtyard of the Red Keep to find it all but empty. The king was not there to greet them, nor the queen, their children, or even any of the Small Council. Only Ser Steffon Darklyn was there to receive them.

“All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen,” he announced to no one but the regularly stationed guards and a handful of scattered servants, “Princess of Dragonstone and Heir to the Iron Throne, and her Royal Consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen.”

As she exited the carriage behind her siblings, Arianwyn watched the confusion on Rhaenyra and Daemon’s faces melt into anger. Obviously, the princess had been expecting something far more grand. Perhaps she expected it still, as she ordered the children into formation with a tilt of her chin.

Being his eldest child, Arianwyn should have been positioned just behind Daemon, with her younger half-sisters behind her. But she knew her true place. So she stood in the back, Rhaena and the two babes ahead of her.

But it did not bother her. Soon, she would be with her true family once more.

After long, awkward minutes of waiting in the chilly courtyard, the doors to the Red Keep finally opened. Only one man emerged, a lord that Arianwyn did not recognize. He approached Rhaenyra and gave a swift bow before taking her hands.

“Welcome back, Princess,” he said.

Rhaenyra stared back at him in disbelief. “Lord Caswell. Has something happened?”

They all glanced around the pitiful courtyard before Caswell answered. “I am afraid not, princess. Please, come with me.” He stood aside with a hand gesturing back toward the door. With a hefty sigh, Rhaenyra followed him into the Red Keep.

Arianwyn’s heart soared as she entered the familiar halls. Some things had changed, yes. New paintings and tapestries hung on the walls, and the Seven-Pointed Star had been carved above many thresholds. But still, it was home.

Lord Caswell brought them to a halt at the foot of the Grand Staircase. “Your petition shall be heard tomorrow, I am told,” he said. He leaned closer to Daemon and Rhaenyra, whispering something Arianwyn could not hear.

When he withdrew, Rhaenyra turned to her children. “Your father and I are to go see the king. We will meet you in our chambers later in the evening. But, for now, you have leave of the castle.”

Daemon stared directly at Arianwyn as he added, “I expect you will all behave yourselves and stay out of trouble.” She did not reply but held his gaze until he turned and went up the steps with Rhaenyra.

Rhaena ran off to find her sister. For a moment, Arianwyn did not know where to go. Her old rooms? The library?

But her choice was made when she heard Jace whisper to Luke. “Let’s go to the training yard. I want to see if that hole in the wall is still there.”

Of course, the training yard. Arianwyn’s heart skipped a beat as she shook off her shock at being in the Red Keep again. Where she wanted to go was not a place but a person. But the training yard would do for now.

For she knew that was where she would find Aemond.

It was difficult for her not to sprint down the hallways for her eagerness, but she kept her pace slow and herself far enough behind her stepbrothers that they did not notice her and eventually, their presence faded from her mind. A lightness spread through her body, and her fingers tingled ceaselessly until she clasped her hands together and squeezed.

Though it had been eight years since she had seen him, she still had letters from Aemond every day. He kept her appraised of everything that happened in the Red Keep so thoroughly that she sometimes felt as though she had never left. So why did she now find herself so nervous to see him?

She brushed off the question as she emerged into the light. Jace and Luke were already halfway down the stairs to the training yard proper while she continued straight on the rampart to the viewing platform where she and Helaena had always sat with their Septa and the King.

Her eyes were drawn downward when she heard the clanging of steel on steel, but she was left disappointed when she only found two identical men, whom she assumed to be the Cargyll brothers sparring. The yard was more crowded than she had ever seen, with dozens of lords and ladies gathering to watch the men practicing. Curious, she had rarely seen ladies below the ramparts before.

Before Arianwyn could consider it further, a flash of white caught her eyes. Her breath caught when she, at last, saw him.

Aemond.

Though he was turned away from her, she would know him even in darkness. But there he was, leaning over a display of weapons. In his letters, he had told Arianwyn that while he could hold his own with many different weapons, the simple longsword remained his favorite. Indeed, he forwent all the maces, hammers, and axes on the table before him and drew his sword from his belt.

Picking up a wooden shield, he stalked across the yard to meet Ser Criston, a crowd immediately gathering around them. Not wanting to lose sight of him, Arianwyn ran across the wall to get a better view.

Gods, he was truly a man now.

He stood several inches taller than Ser Criston, and though he was quite lean, an undeniable width to his shoulders revealed a great strength. But what most drew Arianwyn’s admiration was his face.

Beautiful was the only word Arianwyn could think of to describe him. The line of his jaw was severe, running parallel to the sharpness of his cheekbones. His nose was long and stately, and his lips seemed to hold a permanent mischievous grin. There was an intensity in his one eye, which was only amplified by the harshness of the scar that still ran across the left side of his face and the black leather patch covering where his eye had once been.

Arianwyn’s chest stung slightly not to see her sapphire, but it was quickly brushed aside when Aemond jumped up and down several times before crouching in an offensive position. Ser Criston mirrored the motion, and the fight began.

Cole moved first, swinging his morningstar at Aemond’s head. Arianwyn’s heart jumped as it came down, but Aemond had already moved, and the weapon crashed against his shield.

She hardly breathed watching them fight, at once terrified to see Aemond hurt and yet thrilled by the warrior he had become. He moved with the remarkable swiftness of a Dornish adder and the deadly grace of a Qohorik tiger. It was entrancing.

Arianwyn fought the urge to shout when Ser Criston once more brought his morningstar down on Aemond’s shield, shattering one side and forcing him down on one knee. But Aemond only tossed his shield out of the ring and rose, swinging his blade around the Kinsguard’s head twice.

When he feinted another swing, Cole fell for the bait, swinging wildly and throwing himself off balance just as Aemond spun out of the way and behind him. Cole was angry now, frustrated that he could not match his opponent’s speed. Aemond twirled his sword in a taunting flourish as the knight stalked around him, assessing his next move.

Cole struck left, and Aemond dodged. Cole followed the momentum of his heavy weapon and came back around to his right, but Aemond dodged again. Cole swung again and again, but each time, Aemond dodged him with ease.

When Cole began to shout as he raised his weapon to bring another wild swing down on the Prince, Aemond brought up his sword to meet it. The morningstar pulled Cole to the right, exposing his chest and neck. Aemond spun around him, keeping his good eye on his opponent, and brought the tip of his blade against Ser Criston’s neck.

Arianwyn shivered as an unfamiliar feeling swept through her and settled low in her stomach. It was nearly like the rush she felt whenever Emrys took a steep dive, but somehow different. After taking a moment to collect herself, she joined in on the applause.

Ser Criston dropped his morningstar and began to clap too, murmuring something Arianwyn could not hear atop the wall. Nor could she hear Aemond’s response as he lowered his sword back to his side and faced his nephews.

A shout came to open the gates, drawing the attention of all in the yard – except Aemond and Arianwyn. Neither noticed as Vaemond Velaryon strode in, surrounded by bannermen, giving a withering look to Lucerys as he passed. Aemond did not even notice the servant approaching to offer him a new shield.

For he had turned to look up at the wall, and there he found her.

As Aemond gazed upon Arianwyn for the first time in years, he thought that, surely, no other man had ever felt such joy. When she looked down on him from the rampart and blessed him with her glorious smile, he was certain of it.

He was a drowning man at last breaching the surface and taking a life-giving gulp of air. He was a man dying of thirst at last feeling the sweet taste of water upon his lips. He was a man whose heart had been bleeding for years without ceasing, healed in an instant simply by the holy sight of the woman he loved.

When he had first heard that Rhaenyra and the rest were coming to King’s Landing, he had not allowed himself to hope that Arianwyn would be with them. For if he had, and she were left alone on Dragonstone, he would not have been able to stop himself from flying to her rescue.

But thank the gods, he did not have to. She was here. She was safe. And she was perfect.

Her beauty far surpassed anything Aemond had been able to imagine. Her curling white hair fell in a wild, wonderful cascade down her back. Her plump cheeks and full lips were the deep, enticing pink of the finest Tyrell roses. And her eyes were as bright as polished silver, sparkling with their characteristic gleam.

Aemond brushed aside a servant who had approached him and ignored Cole’s attempts to begin another round of sparring entirely. Sliding his sword back into its sheath, he pushed through the gathered crowds toward the stairs. Seeing him approach, Arianwyn ran across the ramparts to meet him.

Even as he came to a halt a step below her, Aemond stood at least a head taller. He did not say anything as he faced her, breath heavy from both his fight and his rush up the steps. Then, lowering his eyes to her neck and her jeweled chain, he reached out a hand as if to grab it but stopped mere inches from her skin.

What if she wasn’t really here? He had imagined her beside him so often. What if this was just another illusion? What if he tried to touch her and only felt cold air?

“Aemond…” she whispered, for only him to hear.

Gods, he wanted her to be real. He wanted to kiss her. To take her in his arms and carry her to the Sept and wed her without hesitation. But he could not do that. He could not even move for the intensity of the hope and elation racing through his veins.

But he did not have to. Swifter than he could realize, Arianwyn threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as she pressed her cheek to his. Real. She was real, and she was here.

Slowly, as his body remembered how, he brought his trembling arms around her, at last running his fingers through her silver curls. It took all his strength to remain standing.

“Aemond,” she whispered again, her breath warming his ear. “Aemond, I’m finally home.”

[phfenomena]

❝i’ve been in love with her for ages.❞ || jack champion x f!reader

requested - nope! self indulgent!

a/n - he’s so cute :3 him and the 1975 is just *chefs kiss* i also got very carried away sorry!!

warnings - drinking, marijuana consumption, romcom ass storyline, jacks lowkey an idiot but it’s okay she’s also an idiot, swearing, mentions of egging homes, also mentions of blowing a car up, let me know if i missed any!!

THE HOUSE was lively and loud with chatter, music, and the stomps of the party guests walking upstairs. her hands were filled a large red solo cup full of foul smelling liquor and a joint in her opposite hand. she took a swig of her drink and grimaced as it was going down, burning. she passed the blunt to her left and stood up.

jack was standing off in the opposite corner of the living room with his hometown friends, answering the never-ending questions about acting and how much money he makes. his reply trailed off and his eyes caught her. the only one who didn’t welcome him home last week, and the reason he’s been moping around.

their eyes locked as she was walking towards the hallway, towards him. his heart beat picks up and he takes a drink to feel more confident. she walks right by him, maintaining the staring contest until she was out of sight. he embarrassingly looked down at his shoes and pretended that he was fascinated with the view of his dirty converse.

she closed the bathroom door and leaned her back against it, slamming her head back. her veins feel as if they’re pumping molten lava into her heart, everything burns, including her cheeks. she gazes at her flustered and flushed reflection, wondering why she couldn’t just talk to him without feeling as if she’ll randomly combust.

unbeknownst to them, but they had the same night routine. stare at their bedroom ceiling and think of each other, waves of regret and sadness flowing through them. connecting them by an invisible string. jack wishes it could go back to how it was before he left to pursue acting, how it was when they were kids, how it was when you talked to him. well, why couldn’t it be? he quickly pulled a hoodie on and slipped out of the back door, heading for the house next to his and picking up the small pieces of gravel in the garden.

she swears she hallucinated it, the sound of the rocks battering against her window. hallucinated pulling her curtain back and her worst fears becoming a reality. her bedroom lamp is on, he can see her when she looks down at him. he stares up and mouths the word ‘lake’. she should’ve shook her head no, she should’ve closed the curtain and went to bed, but she nodded and got dressed.

the night air felt fresh against their skin as they walked the short trail throughout the trees behind their houses to the lake, their lake. they haven’t been since he left, and she still hasn’t spoken a word to him. their steps synchronized and he kept glancing up at her, only for a fleeting second.

as the pair of the teenagers sat on the dock, all they could hear was the crickets song and the melody of wind against tree branches. “why won’t you talk to me?” it almost sounds like a whisper, like it should blend in with the wind. she lifted her head up and starting fiddling with her nails. “i don’t want to welcome you back into my life just for you to leave again, jack. it sounds stupid, but you left. and you stopped texting and calling.” he had a solemn expression and his eyebrows were furrowed. “i’m sorry, i was really busy and i didn’t have any time. i didn’t mean to ignore you.” she nods softly and scoffs.

the sun had rose long ago and was now in its zenith, she was still in bed. she wasn’t sleeping or trying to, she just hadn’t gotten up all day. if she looked out her window she’d see jack and his family in their backyard, circled around the grill and laughing. she hates his perfect laugh, his perfect face, but most of all she hates his voice. the way it carried throughout the air and everyone recognized it. but she’s grown to despise it throughout his absence.

‘please just come with us. idk if jack will even be there.’ she stared at the text for what felt like hours. she decided her anger towards him couldn’t ruin her last summer before she went to college, she could have fun and still hate him.

the beach was already littered with cans of varying liquids and the bonfires were at their peak. she was waiting in the parking lot for her friends to meet her there but they insisted she came down to them. she was scanning the sea of bodies, trying to find a familiar face. the second she’d approached the group a drink was shoved into her hand and the music was turned up, which was already deafening.

he sat on the shore with a few friends, drinking. away from the crowd so he could breathe. then he heard her laugh. the sound he’d grown to miss so ardently, but it wasn’t even directed towards him. his mind starts racing at the thought of a random guy making her laugh that loud. she was probably drunk and stumbling on the sand. he stood up, ignoring how light headed he was, and walked towards the sound of her.

she leaned into the boys embrace, his name was ‘tanner’ or ‘tyler, she couldn’t remember. tanner-tyler almost felt like jack if she focused on it enough, but her mind was already fuzzy. her head was thrown back laughing at another funny story from their younger years. the closed her eyes and listened to the group, feeling very tired and not wanting to engage in the party anymore.

his eyes laid on the unholy sight of her with a guy who wasn’t him. his hand all over her, a smile plastered across her face. he approaches the group and accepts all hugs and greetings thrown his way, but his eyes didn’t leave the girl sitting on the sand. he took a seat in a break of the circle of teens, right across from the scene that would possibly haunt his dreams tonight, and forever.

her eyes opened after hearing his name and hearing his voice piping into the stories and adding small details the rest forgot about. her half-lid gaze was flickering between the hands on her waist and thigh and the beautiful boy across from her. she felt as if she’d might throw up, no, she actually had to throw up. she stood up quickly, throwing the hands off of her and mumbled out ‘feel sick’ and beelined for the bushes by the parking lot. jack watched the scene unfold and began following her, calling her name and asking her to slow down.

she dropped to her knees and starting coughing into the sand, he approached quickly and pulled her hair behind her head and starting rubbing small circles in the middle of her back. she couldn’t even be mad at him, not when he was being so gentle while she was throwing up her guts.

she rolled over and sat down on the sand, wiping her mouth. he was squatted in front of her, waiting for something to happen, anything to happen. “thank you.” she managed to croak out through her hoarse throat. he nodded and hummed. “can i take you home? i think you need to go to bed, drank too much.” she nodded and tried standing herself, ultimately depending on jack pulling her up and walking her to his car. gently placing her in the front seat and buckling her seat belt. “i’ll be right back, i just need to tell them i’m taking you home.”

the surprised and confused expressions amongst the group as jack explained where they’re going. the boy who was wrapped around her like an invasive species of vine piped in. “why don’t i take her home? she was all over me, i could’ve gotten real lucky.” his friends pipe in telling him to shut up and hurling insults towards him. “she doesn’t wanna go home with you. trust me.” a small smile on his lips as he walks back to his car.

as he started the car and handed his phone to her to pick a song, her knees were pulled up to her chest and she was staring out of the windshield. “m’ sorry for making you leave. i can take myself home.” he laughs and it surprises her, her eyes moving to him. “absolutely not, you’re too drunk to even know if the light is green.” she smiled in his direction. watching him as he puts an arm behind her seat while reversing out of his parking spot. she hadn’t looked at him much lately, just throughout instagram posts and whatever tiktok edit decided to show up on her home page.

the car ride was filled with music and a tension that felt as if it was absorbing all the oxygen in the vehicle. the car came to a small stop in between of their houses. they just stared at each other. “i know we just got here but i’m really hungry.” she says with a small smile and he laughed, but she didn’t seem to hate it.

the drive through at the taco bell was wrapped around the restaurant. “are we willing to wait half an hour for tacos?” she nodded and went into detail about what she’d do for a taco. they were laughing, together. he remembered the first day he got his drivers liscense and they went out for taco bell, and ate at the top of the hill that overlooks the city. he almost didn’t hear the crackling of the work out speaker through his daydream of memories.

“i can’t believe you remember my order, that’s so funny” it’s sweet, but she couldn’t say that. he laughed as he began turning into the road for the hill. he prayed she wouldn’t notice until they got there, but the way she got quiet and stared at him, she knew. she had focused her gaze on the passing trees and houses. as he turned off the car and pushed his seat back to begin eating, she looked at the city lights. “i haven’t been back here since you…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence that hurts her own feelings.

“i really missed you, it’s so hard looking at our hometown and going by our spots but i’m not with you. the guys had to pull me out of bed tonight so i’d go to the bonfire. i really am sorry for being an absolute asshole and not talking to you.” his voice was shaky but his eyes were gentle and almost looked inviting. “the reason i was so mad that you were leaving is because i had the biggest crush on you since middle school, and we had this great summer and then you just left. i mean, i’m glad you’re back, don’t get me wrong. it was just really hard.” it was the residual alcohol talking now, no filter on her thoughts that reel against her own borders.

“…do you still?” his expression almost looked like he was begging. “do i still, what?” “have the biggest schoolgirl crush on me?” she fought her laugh at his wording but went silent. “i’m sorry, was that the wrong thing to say? i was just joking-” “can you shut up for one second and let me think about what to say?” he went silent and slightly widened his eyes at her outburst. “sorry, that was kinda mean.”

they sat in the suffocating silence for a few more seconds before she opened her mouth to speak. “even if i say yes, at the end of the day you’re still leaving. i’m starting college in new york and you’ll go back to california. but…” she bit her cheek, debating if she should keep talking. “but i do. that’s why i was avoiding you, i thought it would go away after you left but it didn’t.” she turns her head to him and he looks confused at her drawn out answer. she laughed and puts her hand on top of his. “i still have a super schoolgirl crush on you.” he smiled, she leaned closer in and he had to roll himself to pull back. “maybe we should do this another time, when you’re not drunk.”

“dude, i don’t know how i keep fucking up with her! it’s like everything i do is wrong and now she’s pissed at me again right when i just got to her to talk to me.” jack laid on his bedroom floor with his friend sitting on his bed, above him. “she tried to kiss you and you said no, man. you rejected her! she’s obviously gonna be pissed at you.” “she was drunk, she wouldn’t have even remembered it and i’d be the idiot all over again.”

“yeah! i was like ‘i still like you’ and he looked at me with those stupid eyes and when i tried to kiss him he literally said no. who the hell asks if you like them and then rejects you?” she paced the length of her bedroom with her best-friends sitting on her bed watching her vent. “i was so fucking nice to him when he didn’t deserve it and he does this to me. we should egg his house and blow up his car.” her two friends look at each other and begin to try calming her down.

their bedrooms faced each other, but she’d closed her curtains. her friend had opened them while trying to explain how badly she wanted to not egg his house and blow up his car. he was sitting on his bed with his friend, seemingly talking about something important as he was motioning with his hands a lot. the two boys looked towards the movement they saw and they both freeze.

“okay, fine. but i swear to god if one of the boys invited jack, i am going to dump a milkshake on his head and beat his ass.” she’d been convinced to go out for dinner with their friends.

the young group was laughing and eating their meals, the diner was fairly busy so she wasn’t focused on the people moving around her. until she saw him, and he sat in the empty chair next to her. she pressed her lips together and looked at her best-friends with the fury of one thousand hells. they smiled sheepishly and pretended to be very interested in the story being told. he muttered a small ‘hi’ and she ignored him. until he pushed his chair closer to hers and his thigh was touching hers.

he called after her in the parking lot, she tried to ignore it and get into her car before he could catch up but he grabbed her arm, instantly letting go when he got her attention. “please, just hear me out.” his voice was low and fought the urge to hit him. she sighed and turned to face him. “you have one minute before i walk away.” he scrambled for his words and stuttered out a “you were drunk and i didn’t want to kiss you, well, no! i did want to kiss you but when you were sober and i didn’t even think you’d remember enough to even remember but clearly you did so, um, i’m really sorry. every time i get close to you i just go fuck it up.” her eyes widened at his rushed words and panicked behavior.

“did you drive here?” was all she said. he shook his head no “no, i rode with chad.” she motioned towards her car and started opening her door. looking back at him standing there. “get in the goddamn car!” he quickly ran to the passenger door and climbed in.

“so, does this mean you forgive me?” “it means you’re on parole and if you fuck up again i’m gonna egg your house and blow up your car.” he nods and smiles at her as they pulled up in front of their houses. “i’ve been in love with you for ages, and i can’t seem to get it right. let me take you out tomorrow, and if you didn’t like it, you never have to see me again.” she smiled and turned in her seat. “i could never not want to see you, jack.”

he turned towards her and looked down to avert her gaze. “it’s kind of my turn to confess and spill my guts, but i think i already have.” he lifts his head up and slightly leans in, testing the waters. he’s almost expecting a punch to the face, but instead his lips are met with hers. he feels as if god himself had bestowed a piece of heaven right in front of him, and he wondered what he did to deserve something this good.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Rotten Hope (2)

Author’s note: Part two of the Typhus x Reader fics. I blame you all for the botflies that have spawned because of this.  this 4,595 words long. Why has this man infested my brain so much? HELP Previous

Tagged: @ms--lobotomy @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: dubious consent, attempted seduction, forced marriage (In that Typhus decides that you and him are married now), body horror, tentacles, oviposition, SMUT, mild cumflation, demon bees, please ask me to tag anything that makes you uncomfortable that I missed

Summary: You are brought to Typhus the traveler, herald of Nurgle, to speak with him. You get far more than what you bargained for. 

You could keenly sense Typhus' presence upon this world. The powerful deamon marine of nurgle wasn't bothering to hide nor dim his curdling presence to your senses as you left the space port where your ship had been docked. Your ship - what used to be your ship - was a swift vessel that did have enough ammunition to defend itself against most pirates and would be attackers. Not that they could fend off the full might of a Gloriana class vessel, Her speed could fly circles around the much larger but slower vessel. You were also hoping that they would be focused on the suffering and agonizing souls were being ravaged by the plague, rather than a single vessel of healthy, un-touched souls. 

As you make your way through the streets of the city, you watch as the plague marines and cultists go from door to door, bearing bowls of horrific looking and smelling liquid that bubbled and glorped unpleasantly. the ragged, sickly and confused mortals peering blearily at them, falling to their knees and thankful for the stew given to them, drinking gratefully as the foul substance seemed to soothe the ragged edges of madness that was part of the dreadful blight that had taken so many of the mortals of this world. You look away, focusing on moving through the streets of the city, hearing the grateful murmurings of the mortals around you, tears falling from your eyes as you knew that the horrid stew that they were gratefully drinking would bind them to the Plaguefather.

Ah... But you'd been the one to bring these bastards here. You'd been so relieved to have found an Astartes, you'd forgotten to check if he was chaos-tainted or not, having forgotten that not all of them followed the will of their creator in your desperate search for any kind of help... And you'd found help, as the violent madness did seem to fade from the minds of the afflicted as you carefully move across barricades, still in your hazmat suit, silently hoping that the uninfected mortals realized that Plague Marines had come to this world and they had ways to flee this world, this system before they were caught and either killed painfully or turned to Nurgle's side. 

You knew that you'd been spotted hours ago, and stopped at the edge of the barricade that had been set up by the Death Guard and their accompanying cultists, despair and misery pulling at your heart as you see that the healthy mortals were being stripped of their protective gear and dragged across the barrier one at a time, being taken to where Typhus was. You swallow down the desire to flee, to hide. He knew you were on this world. You had no safe way off of this world, and if you willingly revealed your presence, perhaps you could have the remaining healthy mortals spared from the predations of the plague-ridden neverborn. You walk up to two of the guards as they glare down at the trembling, weeping mortals and call out as bravely as you can manage out "Excuse me -" Your eyes flicker over the corroded metal and twisted heraldry that both of the plague marines were wearing, searching for any clue as to what either of their ranks were. Aha! You spotted it, under the grime and muck "Sergeant, but I need to speak with your first captain, he is expecting me."

The Death Guard on the left leaned on his scythe a little, looking you up and down "The first captain won't see anyone in clothes like that, it's rude. He also said that he gave the one he's looking for a certain phrase to prove themself to be the eternal blossom he seeks?"

You swallow hard as you reach up and take off your helmet, doing your best to keep eye contact with the large marine, ignoring the horrified gasps from the mortals around you. 

"No! Lady Trader, do not-" One of the scientists pleaded, running towards you and breaking the line that they'd been put in, trying to reach for your helmet.

Two of the cultists rushed the scientist who'd grabbed you and hauled them back into line, giggling madly "Now, now, don't be impatient! Grandfather is happy to bless all of you, you just need to be patient!"

"He said... He said that Typhus asked me, little Isha, to come to him while our minds touched one another." You respond, doing your best to keep your voice as even and confident as you can manage. Your grip on the hazmat helmet is tight, but you hope that they don't notice that.

Both Death Guards grin - their fused facial plates splitting open into needle-sharp maws with dozens of spiraling rows of teeth, and the mouths on their bellies opening up and laughing raucously "So he did, little blossom! Remove the rest of your protective coverings and one of our brothers will bring you to the Herald."

You nod, stripping out of the rest of the hazmat suit as quickly as you could force yourself to move, now dressed in the shirt, shorts and shoes you'd picked specifically because it would get very warm in the hazmat suit if you dressed too warmly. It was early spring in this hemisphere and in the blood-red dawn of day it was chilly, causing you to shake and shiver in the cold. "I have done as you asked."

"Darsas! Eleghra, the eternal flower has revealed herself at the gate and is prepared to meet Older Brother." One of the guards calls out.

Moments later, two massive, mutated plague marines walk up to you, one of them on each of your sides and pick you up bodily, walking you into the secondary area. You're set down before a half-dozen Nurglite cultists who begin to frisk you for weapons - as if you could physically stand up to the might of a standard marine, much less a favored chaos marine of one of the Four - before saying "She is ready to see The Herald."

You are physically picked up and carried over to a large, grimy tent where a massive marine is partially bent over a large table, speaking with the plague riddled governor and highest-ranking nobles of the half-dozen worlds under siege of  this awful plague, each of the latter looking terrified and resigned. All of them look stunned to see you - and that you are whole and healthy, especially in the grasp of a plague marine. You should be in paroxysms of pain, gasping and spluttering as the infested flies that buzz around their supernaturally fucked up bodies devour from the inside out. 

Despite his helmet hiding whatever facial expressions he might be making, you could feel the satisfaction and delight that Typhus oozes as his gaze falls upon you, dangled in the grasp of two of his brothers. "Excellent! I was hoping that you wouldn't be stubborn nor skittish, little Isha-"

At that... Petname? Lord Alleg'fel spluttered, his abhuman (not Eldar) pointed ears twitching a little, dark eyes widening in horror "L...Little what?"

"Mmm, I am surprised that you are unaware of the eternal flower in your midst. Such beings tend to be shy and hide themselves well, unless forced out into the open." Typhus purrs "While she is able to die, her soul returns to her mortal form swiftly, unable to truly die. She is blessed with psykery and an eternally youthful body. This lovely, shy flower was hidden amongst your worlds. Grandfather blessed me with her near location and we created this plague to bring all of you into Grandfather's loving embrace... And to bring her out of hiding. Grandfather noted that I had been... Lonely, wishing for a companion similar to the companionship He enjoys with Grandmother, and pointed us in this lovely flower's direction. You are dismissed. My little flower and I need to... Talk... Privately."

Slow burning horror and guilt would have caused you to crumple to the ground, despair and fury hitting you moments later. You'd done your best to stay out of the greater Game that was being played between The Four and Neoth, and had thought that you'd been largely successful. You hadn't realized that all of this was to trap you in one place, so that... What? You'd become a plaything for the favored pawn of Nurgle? As if you were going to lay down and meekly take whatever awful horrors he was going to do to you. A low, furious growl left your chest as your eyes began to flash the bright shining blue of warpcraft, your hands beginning to crackle with the power you'd long since learned to master, your voice booming with fury "IF YOU THINK-" you started to yell, the eldritch lightning sparking around your form painful enough to cause the two plague marines to drop you to the ground. You land on your feet, hissing wordlessly, ready to fight to your death over and over again.

But Typhus cut off your words "Come now, you asked for my help, little flower, and I have given it. Besides, I even ensured that the plague that ravaged these worlds did not affect the mortals you are closest to, despite them being exposed to it."

Horror hit you, cooling your fury like a deluge of ice on a lava flow "What.... What do you mean?"

"Come now, did you really think that mundane methods of infection prevention can actually stop one of Grandfather's plagues? Surely you're more clever - or at least not that naive, my lovely flower. Although it would be very cute if you are. they live healthy and untainted as a favor to you." Typhus crooned, all but teleporting in front of you. One of his massive, clawed hands cups your cheek. The stench of death and decay is nearly overpowering and makes you want to gag. It is not helped by the undercurrent of honey-sweetness that is, strangely enough, part of his scent as well as overripe fruit. "But if you try to fight me or my little brothers, I will remove that protection from them. I have brought an entire fleet with me. Your cute little ship cannot hope to escape my brothers in the void above us."

Despair and failure rip the fight out of you, and your eyes shine with tears. But you do know how to play coy, to bat your eyelashes. You can feel the desire and want radiating off of this chaos-twisted monster, and you desperately hope that you can use that to your advantage somehow. Which is why you lean into his touch, despite internally shuddering at that, locking your mental shields tight, so as to keep your emotions from the younger psyker. "Please don't harm my crew... they are as innocent of my nature as the mortals in these worlds, Lord Typhus. I..." You do not want to, but the false apology will likely stroke his ego "Apologize for lashing out earlier."

"Mmm, I expected at least a little bit of bite and fury, my lovely Rose. Of course you have your own thorns. You merely needed to be reminded not to prick your beloved's brothers when in a pretty little temper." Typhus purrs, giving a silent signal to his brothers, who swiftly cleared the tent of anyone else. "You're so used to hiding and escaping... To have your true nature revealed would cause a fit of pique... As long as that doesn't happen again, I am willing to forgive you easily enough."

"I... I'll try... Would you please let my ship full of mortals leave without becoming ill? they are wanderers by nature and to trap them in one place would be cruel beyond words, my lord." You plea, batting your eyelashes up at him.

"Wouldn't you rather have them with you, my lovely flower? For you will be at my side now and for always. Won't you miss them if they are far from you?" Typhus coos down at you as he scoops you up and sets you down on the table, pressing in close to you as he does so. "When I found out that you're a rogue trader, I was rather expecting to you to be dressed in fine clothes, with pretty little gems accenting your lovely features..."

"Such things are not...uhm... Exactly reasonable to wear, especially in the protective clothing I was wearing over this, my lord. And I did not want to worry the mortals by wearing something... So flashy?" You offer, peeking up at h i m coquettishly, tilting your head a little before looking down "Besides... All of that artifice is... Tiring at times, not to mention ephemeral. And I'd rather my mortals be happy, if away from me, than at my side and unhappy."

"How sweet of you, my lovely rose... And I do like how simply you are dressed. It makes unwrapping you much easier. You are mine, as Isha belongs to my grandfather. We will become one, and you will be my pretty little wife." Typhus purrs, pressing you down on the table. You could hear something creak and shift in his armor before four tentacles slide out from hatches in his armor, each curling into part of your pants and ripping them off of you, as a fifth slid up between your legs and the tip rubbed against your core.

You gasp and squirm, trying to close your legs and shift away from the strange sensation, turning your head away from him as your face and neck burned in a blush that was revealed by more tugging tendrils to be a flush that spread down your chest and across your breasts "L-Lord T-Typhus! Does... Do... Right now? On a table? Is this... Is there somewhere more comfortable to... To..." You can't bring yourself to say the words that burned like acid in your mind.

"hmm? Would you like me to carry you to a bed, to ravish you properly, my pretty little flower? Is that what you'd like? I'll admit, that was my initial plan, but your sweet flirtation and compliance so far has worn away my patience. I try to emulate grandfather, but patience is not my strongest suit." Typhus purrs. You see him pull his face plat off, his face half rotted near to bone as he gives you a crushing, dominating kiss that tastes of over ripe fruit and dangerously sweet honey. When he pulls away from you, allowing you to catch your breath, you see that the sting of saliva that connects you to him has a golden tinge. "I could be... Convinced to take you for our first time together on a bed... But you'll need to do something for me, first."

You hadn't expected the bastard to be a talented kisser, nor to stir up long-suppressed wants. You blink up at him, feeling surprisingly hazy and warm from the kiss "What.. What is it, lord?" You ask, not having to feign the breathiness in your voice from the kiss. 

"For you to taste a mouthful of the honey that my bees create. Considering your reaction to just the slightest taste of it, I suspect that you will enjoy more of it. But I get to share it so rarely with others, and my little darlings have plenty to spare." Typhus purrs, his hands lightly squeezing your upper thighs as he effortlessly pulls your legs away from one another. 

You hate how much that casual display of strength turns you on, and the wetness that starts to drip from your core at that. It's been... A long time since you'd masturbated, and you hadn't had sex in... At least a century? Perhaps longer. "H...Honey?" You manage out, trying to focus. 

 The smug bastard definitely noticed, from the pleased hum and the smirk he's giving you with what remains of his lips -  and he rubs one of his tentacles more firmly against your entrance "Are you certain you want to wait that long? You're already dripping for me~! And this table should be sturdy enough for me to fuck you properly on. I'd also be happy to feed you a mouthful of my honey either way."

"I... haah! Oh! Please... Hnngh..." You start to say, groaning as one of the tentacles that had been content to hold your arms down slid over and began teasing and squeezing one of your breasts, flicking it with the tip of the squirming appendage. His stench was overpoweringly awful, but somehow that did not help you focus through the embarrassing amount of lust coursing through your system. 

"Mmm? Please what, my cute little wife? Please take you now, on the table? Or would you rather I carry you to bed, holding you close as my tendrils work you open to receive me? There may be others out and about as I take you to a nearby bed, precious flower of mine. Not that I mind others knowing for a fact that you are mine and mine alone to tease and pleasure in such a way." Typhus rumbles, the sneaky bastard's hands coming up to cheekily squeeze your ass cheeks.

You’d rather not be paraded around naked for who knows how long it takes him to find a bed for all to see… But the table is hard and deeply uncomfortable as it digs into your back. “Honey please, my lord. I… Would I have to be seen by others like this, on the way to bed, sir?” You’re gambling on what his likely kinks might be, from what you’ve observed of other marines throughout your centuries of life. “Wouldn’t you rather be the only one to see me like this… Shivering and wanting for you and you alone, my lord?” You spread your legs a little, hooking your ankles around his hips as best as you can, pulling him in closer, one hand coming up to caress the tentacles teasing your breasts, making it difficult for you to think. But not impossible.

His gaze nearly scorches you with the intensity at which he looks at you, before a dark chuckle rumbles through his chest and he pulls you in close, giving you another searing, breath-stealing kiss. “You are correct, my lovely rose. Now open up, let me feed you my honey.” His four of tentacles have shifted, wrapping around your back, arms and legs to keep you in place, while the fifth keeps rubbing and teasing your entrance and clit, sending waves of guilt-laced pleasure shuddering through your body.

Obediently you open your mouth wide, going “Ahhh~!” as if you’re eagerly anticipating whatever foul substance he’s calling honey is being fed to you. Even if the substance kills you, it won’t kill you for very long.

A smaller tendril, several shades lighter in color than the others comes out from his body and presses it’s way into your mouth, and he orders “close your mouth around this and swallow once your mouth is full.”

A thick, sticky substance quickly fills your mouth, and you let out a little sound of surprise as you swiftly close your lips around the appendage, swallowing as much of it down as you could. Still, you could feel some of the surprisingly sweet and delicious substance trickle out of the corners of your mouth. The appendage in your mouth flexes and slides deeper, causing you to let out a muffled sound of surprise - the cry getting louder as the tendril teasing your entrance abruptly slid deep and fast into your core, as your walls fluttered and squeezed around the breech helplessly “Mmm-Hmmm!” You garble out around the tendril.

Typhus chuckles, his glowing red eyes dark with lust “That’s it, gorgeous, you like the taste of my honey, don’t you? Take another mouthful, and try not to spell my cutely messy little wife.” He accentuated his words with a thrust of the tentacle inside your spread open cunt. You really hoped his cock was the size of the tentacle shoving itself deep inside of you. You can’t imagine being able to take anything bigger. 

Shamefully, the nod you give him when he asks if you liked his honey is entirely truthful, and you can’t help the needy whines that leave you when the tentacle filling your pussy slowly slides out of you, your walls achingly empty. You can taste another gush of warp-infused honey fill your mouth, which you do manage to swallow all of this time. The tendril in your mouth retreats to merely pressing against your lips. Hazy warmth begins to envelop your mind and causes a pleasant tingling sensation to spread throughout your body. “Sorry… Didn’t meant to spill first time…” You slur out, one hand coming up to collect the spilled honey off of your cheeks and neck, licking it off your fingers as you peer up at him. “Please… Husband… Take me, in bed, for our first time?” You peer up at him through your eyelashes, pouting a little as you press your naked breasts to his corroded armor.

The rumbling sound that Typhus made almost terrified you, if not for the insistent way he nuzzled your neck, leaving little kisses and bites all the way down, from just under your ear, to where your neck met your shoulders. You realized a moment later that he was purring, and the tentacle that had shoved it’s way inside your cunt earlier was steadily pumping in and out of you, prompting needy little gasps and moans to leave you as he presses you hard against the table. “OH… I understand now why Grandfather holds onto Grandmother so closely… Why she is such a precious treasure for him… Mrrr, you are a tempting little treat, but I did promise to fuck you on a bed if you tasted my honey, and I tend to try and keep my promises.” You could hear the buzz of his demonic bees that accompanied him everywhere he went at the end of his little speech..

“Ah! Hah… Please… Amngh! Ty-... Typhus! AH… My lord! Hah… the table… hurtss…. Please my lord husband! Ah! Hah… Please!” You plead, the fuzziness in your mind and the pleasure - somehow amplified by the warmth spreading through you threatened to break what little control you had over yourself and this situation into tiny little pieces. You deliberately squeeze as tightly as you can manage around the thrusting tendril inside of you “Please… bed? Now? Oh!  You… You’re gonna… haha! Make me c-cum soon, siirrr!” 

The pleased growling rumble that provoked from Typhus you hoped was a good thing. “Such a good little wife I have… fuck! You are such a tempting little thing. Hold on close~!” He purrs. You feel another’s warpcraft weave it’s way across your body, and you fight the urge to resist with all your strength as Typhus teleports you and himself to somewhere else.

Wherever it is, it’s softer under your ass than the hard metal and glass table. Warmer, too as Typhus starts leaving more bites across the skin of the other side of your neck and shoulders, his tentacles teasing your breasts and bending your legs back and away, nearly folding you in half, as the tentacle fucking your cunt moves at a maddeningly quick pace, curling and shifting inside of you in all the right ways.

You hazily watch as he pulls away, his large hands fumbling with something at his waist - a metallic thunk of something hitting the floor. You're still keening and moaning at the way one of his tentacles is filling your core full when -

Something larger begins to press inside of you, while the tentacle is still inside. You realize after a moment it's Typhus' cock "Please! Husband... Lord... I... I can't take both at once! You're too big for me, I'll tear!" You plead tearfully, the pain coursing through your body so much more than the pleasure that had nearly sent you to an orgasm.

Typhus chuckles, kissing your cheeks and licking up your tears "Easy now, my cute little wife. You'll be able to fit in both, I promise. Just breathe through the pain. I'll move slowly, I promise... Though you are sinfully tight around my cock... Such a good little wife~! Good girl... Deep breaths... That's it..."

A tiny part of you hates how his praise does seem to somehow be helping you. Your breathing is jagged and shallow as the bastard continues to press in, his thick, long cock sliding in slowly alongside where one of his tentacles is already buried deep inside your cunt. It feels like it takes an eternity for him to stop pressing inside of you, and twice that for the pain to subside.

All the while, Typhus is purring lewd praises in your ear, nibbling on the skin of your neck, and drinking up your tears. "Such a good girl... My precious, eternal flower, taking all of me in... That's it, just breathe in and out as you submit to me... Good little mate. Are you ready for me to move?"

You nod weakly, well and thoroughly trapped beneath his bulk "Y-Yes, please move, lord..."

Typhus starts purring again as he alternates thrusting in with one of his tentacles and his cock, never not filling you with one of them, a filthy string of curses and praises leaving his lips as he fucks into you hard and fast.

You claw at his back, moving your hips in time to his thrusts as best as you can, the intensity of the sensations too much for you to do more than instinctually respond back, moaning wordlessly in pleasure, clinging tightly as your first orgasm hits you.

Typhus doesn't so much as slow down as your walls flutter and squeeze around him, the bastard as he continues to fuck you, somehow able to move even faster as he fucks you through your orgasm. He does, however, bite down hard on one of your shoulders, enough to draw blood.

You couldn't say how much time passed as Typhus fucked you over and over again, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your increasingly exhausted body. Eventually both his cock and the tentacle he'd been using to fuck you for what must have been hours at minimum deep inside your core at the same time, pressing up against your cervix (causing you a whimper of pain, which he ignored) flooding your womb with cum. You swore you could feel your belly begin to bulge outwards at the amount he pumped into you, prompting another whimper to leave your exhausted and chapped lips.

Typhus chuckles, kissing you again as you feel the tentacle press harder against your cervix, before feeling something other than cum begin to fill your womb, bump by bump.

"Wh... what is...?" You slur out, too tired to form the words properly, sending the sensation through the light mental bond that Typhus had formed with you during the sex at some point.

Typhus chuckled and purrs "Geneseed, lovely one. Which you will hold inside of you until it is ready to be implanted. You make a wonderful wife, my lovely little flower." He pats your lightly distended belly with an enormous hand, clearly pleased with himself. He holds you close to his body "Rest, little flower. You are safe with me."

You very much want to demand what the fuck he meant by that, but the psychic pressure behind his command - and your own exhaustion worked against you as you slumped into his embrace, sleep overtaking you.

[teecupangel]

Here's an idea I think you might enjoy: animus but Des is in their head, controlling them. They can feel it and talk to him and everything, ratatouille style.

……………… You know what would be funny, nonny?

If Desmond sucks at controlling them.

Like, we’ve heard the rites of passage in AC games:

We make them jump instead of doing a leap of faith

We accidentally make them climb the wrong high building and the actual viewpoint is the tower next to it

We miscalculate a jump and fall into the waters below or into an unsuspecting civilian

And there’s the game specific problems I refuse to believe I’m the only one who suffered thru it.

So just imagine Desmond trying to control them in the Animus and they know they’re being controlled.

There’s this… change in the air around them. It feels more charged. More… mysterious.

And they also become clumsier for some goddamn reason.

Incidents include:

Altaïr falling into the waters in the docks of Acre for the fifteenth time and he just hisses under his breath, “What is wrong with you?! Do you enjoy seeing me wet?!” and Desmond’s just “Dude, your control sucks!” which leads to Altaïr having an argument with Desmond under his breath about how his ‘control’ (whatever that means) does not suck, Desmond just sucks at this thing he likes to call ‘platforming’ and they both just agreed that, yeah, okay, they’re gonna assassinate Sibrand by going around instead even if it meant Altaïr had to walk slowly and pretend to be praying the entire time.

Altaïr breathing heavily as he glared at the ten (nope, five more guards found him in open combat, damn it) guards trying to kill him. One of them stepped forward and raised his sword. Altaïr readied himself and he still got hit, “(Growl)! Desmond! Get your timing right!” “Your Hidden Blade counter timing is too fast, Altaïr! Let’s just use your swor-” “No! You will learn how to counter using the hidden blade or, I swear, I will find a way to control you and drill it to your body myself!” (Guards just glance at each other, thinking “oh shit, he’s insane”)

Ezio just staring into the sky as he places his hands on his waist as he called out, “Desmond! How about we try this again later?” “No! I almost got it!” “……… It’s been an hour, Desmond. Let’s try clearing this tomb after-” “No! We’re gonna get that Armor today if it’s the last thing we do! Just… this goddamn time limit is annoying! Time limit sucks!” Ezio who is already used to the mysterious voice (who calls himself Desmond)’s strange words: “………… (sigh)”

“I can take them out. Desmond, please, I’m begging you, let me take them out. I can do-” (Desmond takes control and Ezio watches as his recruits take down the targets) The recruits looking at Ezio for approval. Ezio: Bene, that was a good takedown. (inside, Ezio is just tired because Desmond is enjoying all this ‘summoning’ thing too much…)

“Why can’t we have different lethal bombs?! You have the ingredients for it!” “I don’t know, Desmond. Could we just please finish preparing all the bombs?” “Dude, wouldn’t it be better if we have, like, all of these bombs?” “… I don’t think I have enough space in belt for all of them…” “You should get a bag.” “(Sigh) Desmond, we already talked about this. This Animus of yours don’t allow more ‘inventory’, right?” (inside, Ezio is wondering what his life has become that he sorta kinda understand the words leaving his mouth)

“Desmond… I’m imploring you to not mess this up.” “I’m trying, man, this is hard.” “Who are you talking to, Haytham?” “Ziio! No… no one.” “…” “… sigghhh… Desmond say hello to Ziio.” “Hi, Ziio.” “… is this a curse placed upon you white men?” “…” “…” “…” “Perhaps.” “Sorta?”

“You are a Templar. May the Father of Understanding guide us.” “May the Father of Understanding guide us.” “Wait, what?!” “…” “…” “Master Kenway, is something the matter?” “… no, Charles. I simply… remembered something foul.”

“It’s okay, Desmond. You’ll get this soon enough. Just take a deep breath and………… Desmond. Desmond. Please stop doing whatever you’re doing right now. My head is starting to hurt.” “It’s not me! The cameras of these tree view points sucks ass!”

“How is it you came to captain a ship, given the way you sail?” “Oh, screw you, Haytham! You wanna talk shit, why don’t you try doing this shit yourself, huh?!” “…” “…” “…” “… Apologies, father. Desmond was out of line.” “No, I’m not, fuck you, Haytham!” “I can say with absolute delight I have not missed you one bit, Desmond.” “Bite me, tacohead.” “I still do not know what that means.”

[the-scarecrow-of-aus]

Soooo...

Um, for mermay...

I was thinking of what might be fun to write for dcxdp, I thought I might be able to hash something out as I drove home from work earlier...

Listening to a random Spotify playlist that contained 'two' songs right after each other.. (this will come up later)

People know about pirate!batman right?

'Leatherwing'

My mind went about updating leatherwing to include all the bats and birds. Then it went to how I'd introduce danny.

-

Danny, who learnt he was a mermaid when he was 14, after being knocked overboard unconcious, into the port he fell, getting brained by a stray lumber spar, caught in fouled rigging and then dragged over the side by dead weight all on accident by his port-friend sam.

He didn't drown, but it took a while to wake up then realising you were staring at the underside of the ships keel.

-

not a good thing to discover when your parents hunt mermaids and other mythical creatures. "Dangerous creatures danno my boy, once you anger a mermaid best ready yourself because they don't forgive easily!"

Even worse when they're constantly travelling by ship with their benefactors: the GIW (the gentlemen in white).

A privately sponsored armada of hunters: whether their prey is pirates, mermaids or any creature they consider a threat, you don't want to be hunted by them!

So danny, doing his best to not be caught but still learn what he's capable of, learning how to use his voice to stun and enchant... finally he gets discovered freeing their captives.

He has to flee and flee he does, escaping them and striking out on his own.

(I assume jazz stays in Port and isn't aware of what's currently happened-away at 'college')

-

Sometime in the future though, constantly dodging his parents attempts to track him whenever he comes to a port, Danny happened upon captain leatherwings pirateship.

He follows them as a mermaid, watching them work. Sometimes they attacked a ship and other times they fled, being chased by pirate hunters but never caught! It was fascinating to watch despite the danger of being seen (he's seen).

At night he'd wrap himself around the rudder and hum or quietly sing listening to the ocean, hoping another mermaid would answer his call (he's never met another)

One day as leatherwing's ship, the flying fox. Starts to sail into port, danny hears them say they will put up a request for new crew (some leaving, some died).

Danny slips away ahead of them to shore, stealing some dry clothes (without holes to look presentable) and camps out at the inn by the docks looking for hire.

-

It takes some work but Danny gets hired on, excited to be among people again. He's introduced to the crew and does his best to fit in, it becomes apparent some of the long term crew are more then just crew, they act just like family...

Danny gets close to them, curious about their relationships with each other. One night (I'm picking cass for this but it could be anyone) he finds 'orphan-blackblade' sitting on the stern of the ship.

her feet through the railing on the back trying to hum a strange tune that sounds familiar, another of the crew sees Danny watching and laughs, 'orphan doesn't talk, but she sits on the back of the boat every night listening to the 'music of the sea' (you do the math)

-

-

That would continue building a relationship at a pace but now, we come to the part where danny is revealed.

leatherwing and the flying fox is attacked by the GIW who stumbled on them looking for danny with whatever dark magic's they use to track him. This coincides with a storm approaching and as the battle rages Danny gets pinned under water by debris and is forced to start transforming.

He breaks free and seeing the fight going poorly tries to help using his cry to shock the GIW, it works. This is where things get a little angst as the flying fox crew don't recognise danny as a mermaid...

Danny seeing the mainmast of the GIW ship coming down tackles orphan out of the way but in saving her gets attacked by her and everyone else forcing him to take her hostage to save himself and flee, whisking her away into the dark of the stormy sea.

-

This is where the songs literally came in:

Fish in a birdcage: 'rule #34'

(Awkward timing, forcing me to decide which was the priority: getting my ace asses mind out of the gutter or keeping my car wheels out of the gutter as I did some specific driving on the freeway to avoid some surprise gridlock traffic ahead!)

So play that song and imagine pirate!cass waking up in a cave of an unknown island being stared down at by an angry, shirtless, very familiar looking mermaid who you'd just stabbed...

My brain while trying to drive:

The second song was: fin- ship in a bottle

What comes to mind (as I was now stuck in gridlock) is an angry danny fighting back as leatherwing tries to find his daughter orphan after she was taken by a mermaid that suddenly attacked them during the fight.

He'd interrogated the GIW who invaded his ship, those who hadn't been able to flee in time as he chased after his daughter, they were hunting the mermaid and assumed he was on-board (a thought backed up by nobody knowing where danny had gone-they found his torn off shirt though...).

He tore the knowledge from them on how they tracked the mermaid, learnt the consequences of using the magic, forced them off the ship because they were now 'deadweight', cast the magic and set sail.

And now that he'd found him he was going to get his daughter back... But as said before, dannys angry and they fight...

- that's all I got at the moment.

-

The only other things I have is cass going non verbal in the cave and humming her song which could calm danny down as he recognises it as the song he sung when wrapped around the rudder at nights.

Cass stopping the fight between Danny and Bruce (and her siblings) threatening to beat both their asses

Ellie showing up as a mermaid, trying to find danny, she bumped into jazz and they've been trying to find danny for a while (Danny forgets to check in every now and then)