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starsofang · 23 days ago

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CALL OF THE SEA / PART SIXTEEN

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, depictions/mentions of violence, dark themes, surprise appearance!!, lots of feelings masterlist

Your world felt moments away from collapsing in on itself. The very man you had only seen for mere seconds, a brief glimpse, yet had undeniably began to torture you brainlessly was only waves apart from you.

His ship was hidden behind smokey clouds, but you could spot a faint red glow coming from one of the windows. It glimmered back at you in a taunting dance.

The ship was significantly larger. While Price’s ship was a dime, Graves harbored a war ship, one that you knew instantly housed more men than the four you’ve come to know. Its wood was stained black, nearly mirroring the dark sea as it roared its reins. The flag of a skull waved angrily in the wind.

There was no mistaking it. Graves had come, and you weren’t sure if it was for you, or for Ghost. You had a good idea of who.

“Dove!”

You spun around to see Gaz, struggling to hold the rope of the sail tightly bound. His face was pleading, eyes peering up at you in exasperation. Soap stood beside him, expression concentrated—eyebrows pulled together, shoulders straining against the heavy winds that threatened to pull his rope free.

“Get down from there! Are you fuckin’ crazy?” he shouted, his voice mixing in the wind and nearly getting lost.

You glanced back at Graves’ ship. It was small in the distance, not quite close enough to pose a heavy threat—yet. You had a choice to make, but you knew you had to be quick.

“Ghost! Get her down!” Soap yelled.

Ghost, hurrying to his return from stowing away the valuables on deck almost lost from the storm, snapped his head up to you. In such a distressing, grim atmosphere, he looked scarier than ever, all tall and brute, the mask mirroring the very flag that flapped among the sea.

His body grew tense, a flip switching. It was clear as day, the way his hands balled up, his shoulders stiffening, his legs moving on their own accord—he switched to serious and brooding, and he was just as spiteful with the fact you had ran from cover so stupidly.

By the time you were scrambling to place your feet on the rope ladder to scurry down, Ghost was waiting for you at the bottom, his arms held out in case you fell. The rope swayed uneasily, unable to keep itself steady with the roaring wind threatening to flip it.

“The fuck are you tryin’ to do?” Ghost growled, hands clasping around your waist to haul you down one you were close enough. “Kill yourself?”

Your breath caught in your lungs when he grabbed you, his grip firm and irritated, yet considerate enough not to hurt you. The air released once you were on your feet, the rocking of the boat making you unstable.

It was an absolute downpour on you, Ghost’s mask dripping with unhappy raindrops that slithered down to soak into his balaclava. Your clothes stuck to you uncomfortably, and you hated that your initial reaction was to be upset that one of the dresses Gaz purchased for you was going to be ruined.

“The Captain—” you gasped out, hands pressing against Ghost’s chest in attempts to release his hold on you. “I must go to him, I must tell him what is happening, he must know—”

Ghost paid no mind to you fighting in his grasp, his hands coming to take hold of your wrists. You squirmed against the restraint, eyes frantically searching for Price’s.

“Calm yourself,” Ghost hissed, not unkindly. “Tell me what’s burdenin’ you. Tell me.”

You hadn’t realized how sporadic your breathing became until you slowly began to stop your fight. Your chest heaved, lungs clashing against your rib cage painfully. A ringing shrouded your ears, combined with the heavy rain the pattered loudly against the deck.

Graves festered within the back of your mind. Always there, always mocking.

“It is Graves,” you quavered, your hands balling into fists. Ghost’s grip only tightened on your wrists. “He is here, I have seen it from up there. His ship is among the sea, waiting.”

Ghost stared at you with eyes heavily filled with an unspoken grief with guilt tinging the edges. He stood frozen in place, even as you began twisting and turning to unclasp your wrists.

“You must let me go, Ghost, please. I must inform the Captain, I do not wish to die—”

You stumbled off balance when the release was so sudden. His hands fell to his sides, dull fingernails digging into his palms as he furled them.

“Do what you must,” he rumbled low, his head turned to the sea. He looked out into the abyss as if searching for prey. “I will take care of it.”

“Ghost—”

“I said, I will take care of it,” he snipped, whirling his head back to you. “Go.”

With a light shove, he averted you in Price’s direction on the helm of the ship, where he fought against whipping rain and keeping the boat as steady as he could. You watched Ghost turn, stomping over to Gaz and Soap. A man on a mission.

You couldn’t hear the exchange between the three men. Ghost had gruffed something to them, switching places with Gaz.

He hauled the rope so it tightened, tying it around its pillar before shifting to Soap to articulate the same. While you watched Soap and Gaz struggle to keep the sails at bay, Ghost had gained a bitter strength to hanker down the fort and keep them tied down himself. The news of Graves’ approach had shifted him into something ravenous, as if he were out for blood and nothing would dare to stop him until he took a bite.

Ghost, as if sensing your stare, whirled around, glowering at you. “You must be really tryin’ to kill yourself, dove,” he jeered loudly to ensure you heard him.

“Ghost, calm yourself—” Soap tried, reaching out for him.

“What did I tell you? Go.” Ghost finished.

That notion alone was enough to have you refocus your alarm on the true worry at hand. You gathered yourself, stumbling along the soaking floors that continued to ingest the downpour.

Price, you must tell Price. He was clueless. You weren’t even sure Ghost had explained the situation to Gaz or Soap, you could only assume. He would tell them, right?

“Captain!” you shouted, sprinting to the helm. Your legs carried you quickly, running on autopilot. The blood pumped erratically through your veins, filled with nothing but determination.

Price’s hands were tightly wound with the wheel, spinning and turning with each and every wave that threatened to overtake his control. At the sight of you, he wavered, his initial anger replaced with concern.

“Dove,” he breathed. “The hell was that, huh? Climbin’ up there like a fuckin’ animal? Don’t you know how dangerous these waves are? You could’ve been flown overboard and I wouldn’t have the means to save you. You need to fuckin’ think!”

Your body shook with adrenaline, hands unable to remain by your sides. You nodded mindlessly along with his words, taking them half to heart. You knew you had bigger things to tell him, things he needed to know. Your safety in the crow’s nest was the least of your worries.

“Captain, it is Graves— he is coming,” you panted, watching his expression morph into one just as sinister as Ghost’s reaction. “His ship is just beyond the waves, he is coming. I owe you my apologies for disobeying your orders, but you must understand—”

“How do you know?” he asked, tone growing a dangerous bite.

“Up on the crow’s nest,” you paused, inhaling. “I spotted his ship. He has called me, I hear him speaking to me. He waves a flag of that of Ghost’s ring—the skull. I know, Captain—it is him. He has told me so.”

Price reared back from the wheel, muttering a string of nasty curses. You had never seen him so angry before, so bloodthirsty.

He was the epitome of rage, spewing out poison and oozing pure loathe. A dark cloud circled him, trapping him in its arms and luring him towards the pits of fire. The Captain was at his wits end, his last string of sanity snapping.

With nobody in control, the ship began to shift, leaning with the waves and forcing you to hold your ground with but the crevices of your shoes. Price held himself together enough to grab hold of the wheel once more, but in a deathly grip, white-knuckled.

“You will return to my quarters,” he muttered. “You will stay until I tell you to come out. Do as your told, and do not disobey my order again, or I will hand you off to Graves myself. Are we clear?”

You would be a madman to argue. The look in his eye was borderline murderous, a complete shift from the man you were beginning to know. What you saw was the reflection of Price the day you met him, when he held a gun up to the fear-stricken faces of your village and barked out commands just as he was doing to you now.

Even if you were crazy enough to argue, there would be no room for it. He’d make sure of that.

“I fear him, Captain,” you found yourself saying, voice quivering. Your eyes darted to the floor, unfocused. Your anxiety began to broil. “He is a siren among the seas, and I do not know how to swim. I cannot be a prisoner again, I will not—”

The touch of a rough hand grazed your cheek, guiding you to look up. Price kept one hand on the wheel while the other stroked a gentle thumb along your skin. Gone was the crimson red from his pupils and instead, that familiarity you’d come to enjoy. Soft around the edges, swarming with silent apology.

The rain dripped down your face and spread along his hand as he traced your features.

“I will not allow it,” he assured, certain. “I am sorry, I did not mean those—those words I have spoken. You must understand how dire of a situation this is for you—for us. I fear, too, dove.”

The awestruck look on your face didn’t go unnoticed from anybody except you. You were too caught up in his touch to will embarrassment.

He was touching you. So tenderly, as well. Even in a fit of erupting chaos and impending doom, you found yourself stuck in time, accompanied by the taste of comfort you’d longed for since the moment you learned what it was. You’d spent lifetimes searching for it, and it was there all along, right in front of you.

The Captain was expressing the same fear you’d been consumed by since the moment you entered the ship, since Graves had slinked into your life and taken control. He understood you on a new level, and it was a calm in the fierce storm.

“I do not want to hide away in your quarters, Captain,” you confessed. With a brief hesitation, you slowly raised your arm, flattening your palm over the back of his hand. He could only stare at the featherlike touch along his rugged skin. “I wish to be apart of this, like a real crew is. I wish to be one of you, fighting along your side, even if the cards are not dealt in our favor.”

“You do not know what you are askin’ for, dove.”

“I know. I do not hold regret.”

Price’s gaze flickered over your face, searching for any sign of deception. What he found was a bird willing to flap its wings until they grew tired, determined to fight for its flock even as the weight of life grew heavy.

He couldn’t will himself to deny you. Even if he desperately wanted to, you were theirs, and he’d rather slit his own throat before forbidding you to a man rotted from the inside out.

His hand slipped away from under yours, only to grasp it in his hold, holding your fingers tightly with his.

“You are a pirate,” he said, a hint of a smile in his tone. “You sure as hell fight like one, dove.”

Your heart felt like it could burst at any moment. This was the belonging you craved, this was what it felt like to hold it in the palm of your hand. While death was creeping in through the cracks in the old wood beneath your feet, the light was searching for a breakthrough, fighting to reveal its presence.

Standing in the swirling storm, pummeled by heavy rainfall with clothes soaked to the bone, Graves mere seas away, you found yourself smiling. You no longer had to reach for acceptance to claim it in your grasp—it had come to you all on its own, and for that, the world didn’t feel so scary anymore.

“There is not much to do besides ride out the storm and steer clear of Graves. I will do my best to make it happen, but for now,” Price paused, his hand gripping yours tighter. “Return to the quarters. I will have the others accompany you. When it is time, if is time, you will fight with us, and you will die with us. No man left behind.”

As much as you wanted to stay in this moment, glued to his side to face the roaring winds with him, he knew best. You trusted him, more than you ever had before, and nothing would waver that. Not Graves, not yourself.

“You will be okay out here?” you asked, concerned.

Price smiled, no longer as tense as before. And if he was, he was great at hiding it for you. “It is not my first storm, dove, nor will it be my last. I’m a captain. You think so little of me?”

“An absurd statement, that is,” you humored.

“Then all will be well,” he assured. He let go of your hand, his hold lingering, as if he feared missing out on your touch now that he had it.

You nodded, letting your hand fall to your side. You felt a faint tingle in your fingertips from where he’d just been. “I’ll return to your quarters, then,” you replied. “I will be here, were anything to happen—”

“I know,” he interrupted softly. You shared a look of understanding, and with one last nod, you trudged through the rain, slipping back into the comfort of the Captain’s quarters, saying a silent prayer for what was to come.

The dampness of your clothes did nothing to hold back your subtle shivers as you sat at the Captain’s desk. The dress you’d purchased, courtesy of Gaz, was plastered on to your skin, sticking to it like glue. It was entirely uncomfortable, yet the least of your worries as your mind wandered off to the men battling the blaze outside.

You feared for how the night would end. You trusted Price to do everything in his power to escape the grubby hands of Graves and hold off on his arrival for a bit longer. None of you were prepared for the storm, nor the evil hiding in its wake. A thousand possibilities coursed through your mind at light speed, none of them ending well—until you forced that light back in and held on to hope that all would be well, just as Price had told you.

It scared you, just how much you worried for them. What a dangerous thing, to find care in your heart for another in a world full of heartache. It was riddled with betrayal and selfishness, something you learned as a child and took with you as you transitioned into adulthood. It was the very reason you locked your heart up and set forth to a world of your own, burying yourself in studies and denying yourself the pleasure of another human.

Now, you wondered how much of life you had missed out on, just from a quick taste of adventure with the pirates. It was difficult and maddening, while gifting you joy and laughter; a true way of living, as you were learning that life was never meant to be the picture perfect image you had in your mind.

What would you do if you lost it all? How could you go on, knowing that the other side of life’s trail had nothing in store for you if it wasn’t with them?

The door opening was the only thing able to snap you out of such conflicting thoughts, trapped in your mind like you were encaged. You perked up, blossoming with relief when Ghost walked in, dripping from head to toe right on the floor. Though, the peace didn’t last.

He stared at you, silently shutting the door behind him. He held the same grueling bitterness, something you could feel radiating off in waves. It invaded your senses and left you defenseless.

“You and I are goin’ to have a little chat,” he snipped, stepping further into the quarters. His boots clunked loudly with every step, strengthening the blow.

You trembled from a mix of chill and sheer emotion. You weren’t sure what to make of the brute leering towards you. You knew Ghost, but you didn’t know his heart.

Ghost stood in front of you, peering down like a predator to a prey. You could do nothing but stare back, neck straining due to the stature he held over you from where you sat.

The mask he wore pierced your soul, dark eyes peeking out from the slivers. He was studying you, stare slinking down your frame and taking you in. For a moment, he did nothing. Then, he was turning away from you, sauntering off to the other side of the quarters.

Ghost opened a cupboard, rifling through it before pulling out… a dress?

You were bewildered. What on Earth was the captain doing with a dress in his cupboard?

Ghost shut the small cabinet, returning to you with the fabric in his hand. He hesitated, before offering the dress to you. It was plain in color, and the frame was much more flowy and billowy. It was made for comfort, not for style.

“You’re shiverin’,” he grumbled, darting his gaze somewhere else.

You took the dress graciously, smoothing a palm over the soft fabric. “Why does Price have a dress?” you asked, curious. From what he told you, he had never harbored a woman on ship before.

Ghost sniffed, uncomfortable. “Soap and him got it the last we were on shore. Somethin’ for you to have outside of the dresses Gaz paid for.”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you traced along the seams with delicate fingers. “I wasn’t aware.”

“Well, sorry to ruin the surprise.”

You looked back up at Ghost. A frown pulled on your lips. Even you could detect the sarcasm.

“What did you want to talk about?” you asked.

Ghost met your eye once more. His eyes were cold, returning to that frigid daze. “There’s stuff you’re not tellin’ me,” he muttered. He leaned forward in a way meant to taunt you, leering over you. “You’re playin’ mind games.”

“I am not,” you defend, offended he would even assume such a thing. “That’s an absurd accusation.”

“Is it?” he mocked, cocking his head. “Then why am I only hearin’ about Graves talkin’ to you through Soap? Mind tellin’ me that?”

You gawked at him, feeling a rush of adrenaline from the sheer outrage. You knew energies were high right now and it was no time to bicker, but if he wanted to pick a fight, so would you.

“Perhaps if you didn’t lock yourself up from dawn until dusk, you would be in the loop,” you jeered back, balling the dress in your fists.

“You do not seem to have an issue findin’ your way to my quarters,” he snipped back. “Might you have simply found me to tell me these concerns, I may have been of help sooner.”

“You are not approachable in the slightest.”

“Oh, it is not the mask that scares you, dove,” he sneered. “It is honesty. It is truth. I’m not afraid to tell you the truth, dove, believe me.”

“Then please, the stage is yours.”

“Why must you be so insufferable when I am the only one who understands?”

“You do not understand me in the slightest, Ghost, so please do not pretend,” you leered.

“We are two sides of the same coin, for God’s sake!” he shouted, slamming a fist on the table. It shook under the impact, rattling the Captain’s minimal decor before they settled back in place. “We’re both bein’ dealt the hands of death, yet you seek solace in the ones who do not know what it’s like. To live in fear, to hear whispers in the walls that drive you mad, to feel a prickle on your neck as if you’re bein’ watched even though there’s no one around. That is somethin’ only I can understand, yet you parade around me as if I’m a monster.”

Your body froze, words dying in your mouth. You hated that every phrase he uttered was right and he truly was reading you like a book.

You avoided him, intentional or not. There was a taste of fear the felt like vile in your throat when he was near, and it overpowered the care you knew you held for him.

The distance was your fault as much as it was his. Though your souls were on the path to the same fate, you reared off in separate directions and found yourself lost. Now, a dam was breaking, flooding its roaring waters to trickle you back down to one another.

“You are not a monster,” you whispered, tone guilt-ridden. “I—I am so terribly sorry that I have made things that way. You are right, Ghost—I fear the reality, and I am beginning to understand my flaw.”

Ghost paused, taken by surprise that you didn’t continue to fight. It was as if nobody had taken the time to hear his truth and digest it in its entirety.

You felt horrible.

“I only wish to be there,” Ghost murmured, looking away. “But I don’t know how. I am not good with… with all of this.”

“I am not, either,” you confessed honestly. You unfurled your fists from the dress, putting it out of its misery. Your fingers felt stiff from how tightly wound they were woven in the fabric.

The room filled with a heavy silence as the two of you allowed yourselves to calm down. Not a glance was shared, a sudden awkwardness piling between you.

“I’m sorry for puttin’ you in this,” Ghost muttered, ashamed.

You perked up, throwing him a bewildered look. “What? This is not your fault. Nobody is to blame but Graves. He is the true enemy, not ourselves. I have never blamed you for any of it.”

Ghost shifted on his feet, the wood creaking beneath his weight. You could see the water that had dripped down seeping into the cracks. His hands were balled into fists, and you could faintly see a glimpse of pink.

“How are your hands?” you asked him.

Ghost grunted, uncurling his fists and spreading out his fingers. “What?”

“Your hands,” you repeated. “They are irritated.”

“They’re fine—”

“Ghost.”

He huffed, turning his head. He’d almost resemble an annoyed child if he weren’t so large. Reluctantly, he held out his hands for you to take. You held them with carefulness, inspecting the small indents on his palms from where he’d dug his dull fingernails into the skin.

“Fine,” you muttered with a shake of your head. You instructed him to keep his hands held out, turning to gather your bag that was left abandoned in Price’s quarters when the storm had hit and Soap barged in.

You knew you didn’t have much, but you sifted through the bag until your hands wrapped around a round jar. You tugged it out and made quick work opening it, collecting a dollop on your finger.

“What’s that?” he mumbled suspiciously.

You eyed him, opting not to answer while you took hold of his hands again and began lathering the soothing balm on the sore skin. He didn’t move a muscle, unfazed by the medicine, and he watched you with a keen eye the entire way through.

“I must confess something to you,” you said quietly, keeping your gaze on his hands as you worked.

Ghost hummed in reply.

“The mask—I have seen it off. I did not mean to, and it was an accident, but now that we have spoken, I feel I must get the guilt off my chest.”

He was silent for a moment, eyes unwavering from your fingers working into his palms. “When?”

“When I came to your quarters so I could talk things out with you. I did not mean to intrude, but the door was open and—I saw. It has been eating at me ever since,” you admitted woefully, fearing he’d grow angry.

To your surprise, his composure didn’t waver. You weren’t sure whether to feel relieved or worried.

“Stop stressin’ about it.”

Your head tilted up to peer up at him, confused by his reaction.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, feigning annoyance. “I’m not afraid to show my face; I’m afraid to show weakness. I wear it for me, not for anyone else. You seein’ it doesn’t matter, so stop worryin’ your head about it.”

Your hands paused their motion on his hands, simply holding them. You searched for any sign of a lie, but ultimately found honesty.

“I am glad then,” you sighed out in relief, smiling to yourself. “I did not want to invade your privacy.”

Ghost went quiet, peering down at your hands in his. Small in comparison, something that felt foreign to him. “Are you done?”

You sputtered when you realized your position and quickly removed your grasp, gearing your attention to shutting the jar and placing it back in your bag.

That awkward silence began to suffocate you once more, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, attempting to unstick the damp dress from your skin.

Ghost stepped away from you, instead turning his front towards the wall and occupying himself with the sight of Price’s neat cot. You tilted your head in confusion, wondering what he was doing.

“Change,” he mumbled, folding his arms over his chest. “If you get sick, I won’t hear the end of it.”

You smiled to yourself, standing to move to the other side of the room. Peeling off the wet fabric proved to be a challenge, but you managed, slipping into the dress Price and Soap had gifted you without your knowledge.

It truly was comfortable, and you found yourself much more at ease, the tension in the room fading.

“I am finished,” you told Ghost, who grunted and turned back forward. “Do you think the boys are alright?”

“They’ll be fine,” he assured, albeit it plainly. “Think they’re more worried about us. Why don’t you try and rest for now? Not much we can do but wait.”

You weren’t sure you could rest, knowing Soap, Gaz, and Price were still outside, wrestling the monstrous storm. But, you didn’t know how much longer it would be until Graves infected your mind again for his own personal pleasure, or worse, if he made it to the ship.

“You will stay?” you asked.

Ghost stiffened before giving you a nod. “I’ll stay.”

You nodded, forcing yourself into Price’s bed while Ghost thumped into his desk chair. The cot provided you with heat against your chilled skin and you sunk into it, letting it calm your nerves for the time being.

All was a waiting game, and you’d waited for longer things before. It was the pumping fear that was the worst part. As you lay, you allowed your worries to lay to rest, saying a silent prayer that all would be well by the time you woke—and if they weren’t, you’d hold up to your promise of fighting back, just as you told Price.

You were a pirate now; and pirates stuck together through death.

"Dove," a hushed voice woke you. You grumbled to yourself, face scrunching together as you shifted on to your side. "Oh, dove. Wake up."

That voice, you couldn't pinpoint it. The familiarity was on the tip of your tongue, floating somewhere in the back of your mind.

With a sluggishness, you rose from your sleep, peeling your tired eyes open. Perhaps it was Ghost waking you to tell you things were alright, or even that the storm had died down.

Instead, upon opening your eyes, a sinister smile blared back at you rather than the familiar skull you'd come to know. Your blood ran cold and the bumps on your skin rose harshly.

"Ah, there she is," Graves murmured in his own sickening amusement, as if he were watching a circus animal rise from a slumber. "Come to join the fun, finally?"

None of your crewmates were in sight, not a single strand of hair to indicate their whereabouts. You were alone with the Devil, and he was grinning with eyes full of hellish fire that he'd surely engulf you in if he pleased.

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feirceangel · 1 year ago

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Imagine | Lost (Zoro)

Imagine getting lost with Zoro.

Word Count: 1,604

Warnings: hurt/comfort

(Gif is not mine!)

Things haven't gone according to plan. Of course, that's the norm when you're traveling with Luffy and the rest of the Strawhats. Each crew member has their own quirks, but sometimes everyone manages to stay relatively on track.

Except for Zoro.

The green haired swordsman is notorious for his directional challenges. He even gets lost on his own ship, that's how hopeless his sense of direction is.

So, when everyone splits up to search for the current treasure of the day, you watch with a chuckle as Zoro immediately storms off in the wrong direction.

Huffing with laughter, you race to catch up with him. You trail beside him until he notices and raises a brow at you.

"Huh, what're you doing? We're supposed to split up."

"Oops," you grin at him, chuckling at his exasperated sigh.

He doesn't stop walking, "Go away."

"No."

"I'm serious.”

"Whatcha gonna do? Stick me with your big sword?" You hide your laugh behind your hand as his ears turn beet red.

"If you're gonna follow me, at least shut your mouth," he grumbles.

Smirking at your victory, you subtly start walking a bit closer to him, eyes roaming the area for any potential threats or treasures.

If he notices how close you are, he doesn't comment. He's also on the lookout for danger, hand resting idly on the hilt of his sword.

You've always admired how ready for a fight his is- never letting his guard down. Even when he's 'napping', he's still paying attention to his surroundings.

You've tried a few times to prank him when you thought he was fast asleep but failed every single time. He seems to be able to sense your proximity every time you get within five meters of him.

Even now, as you walk in close proximity, you can't help but admire him. His tall posture and alert eyes that peer into the forest. His soft green hair slightly tousled from the wind.

"You're staring," his voice bears a tinge of smugness, making you whip your head the opposite way.

"Was not."

"Was too."

"I wasn't. I don't know why you'd even think that," you cross your arms and turn to look at him again. "Not like there's much to look at."

Your tone and smirk betray your lies, Zoro unable to stop from smirking along with your teasing.

"Really? Nothing at all?"

"Of course, I'd never ogle at you and your well trained muscles."

He smirks, turning away from you.

It's been like this since you were welcomed into the Strawhat Crew, easy banter between you and the swordsman. After you had proven your loyalty to Luffy that is. You believe Zoro values loyalty above all else.

Zoro had warmed up to you more than he had some of the others.

There'd been an unspoken tension between you: lingering glances and touches mingled with flirtatious words and playful gestures.

He'd let you drag him into drinking contests (which you always lost), nap beside him, and even join his workouts.

And you'd always tease him (backing off immediately when you noticed that he had enough), and steered him in the right direction when he got horribly lost.

Like right now.

"Zoro, I'm pretty sure we have to go left here," you point out.

"I knew that," he grumbles and alters his course. "I was just scouting the area."

"Uh-huh."

"I was!"

Laughing, you hop onto a large fallen tree that blocks your path. You turn to taunt Zoro a bit more, but you pause as a loud shot rings out.

Sudden pain shoots through your leg as blood splatters around you. You crumble down off the log, saved from a hard landing by strong arms.

Stunned, you look up into Zoro's eyes.

"You're alright," he says firmly as he sets you down against the tree. "It just got you in the leg."

Dumbly, you stare into his face, barely registering his words or his angered expression.

"You stay here and I'll be right back."

You nod, unable to do much more. As you watch him leave, you meekly call out to him, "Don't you dare get lost."

He didn't get lost, to your immense surprise.

By now, the shock has worn off and the pain has really kicked in. The bullet went straight through the meat of your leg, luckily not shattering bone. But you will need Chopper to get a better look and bandage it properly.

Right now you're using a strip of your shirt as a makeshift bandage and it's already soaked through. As Zoro does a second assessment.

"You're fine."

You glare at him, "I'm in pain."

"You'll live."

"Good thing, cause if I didn’t I'd haunt your ass!"

Shaking his head, he crouches in front of you, "Can you walk at least?"

You level a deadpan stare at him.

He sighs heavily, "Guess I'll just have to carry you then."

"No, no way."

"It's either that or you walk."

"You need your hands to fight in case there's more enemies," you reason. "Can't use your swords if you're carrying me."

"I'll just set you down."

"No, you'd drop me. And I don't want to be dropped right now," you fire back.

He stands up straight and glares down at you.

"What if you carry me on your shoulders?" You suggest. "That way your arms will be free and you can still fight."

"Fine," he agrees.

You wince as you stand on your uninjured leg, motioning for him to bend down so you can get your legs on his shoulders. He obliges and you precariously manage to seat yourself on his shoulders.

He stands without a problem, steadying you with one hand on your thigh. Pain floods your sense for a second but it is quick to fade as you realize something.

You realize the extent of the compromising position you've put yourself in.

You're on top of Zoro's shoulders, hands on his head to steady yourself as he grips your thigh with his broad hand.

You flush with embarrassment. Beneath you, you can see the dusting of a blush across Zoro's ears and cheeks.

"Thank you for this," you say, unsure of what to do with your hands. The desire to run your fingers through his hair is immense and it takes all your will power to not act on it.

"I appreciate it, Zoro."

He grunts, "Just don't get injured again and we'll call it even."

"Hey, I didn't wanna be shot!"

"You made yourself an easy target!"

"I thought we were alone!"

"You should've known better!"

"I can't believe you're blaming me right now," you say in exasperating. "By the way, you're going north and the ship is to the south."

He grumbles beneath you but does switch his course to follow where you pointed. You wince every so often as he jostles you.

"Sorry," he says, very uncharacteristically.

Surprised, you lean over to stare into his face.

"For what?"

"I should've sensed that sniper but I was distracted," he grits his teeth in annoyance. "If I had seen him, you wouldn't have been hurt."

"Distracted?" You raise a brow, "You were distracted?"

"Don't-"

"Was it me that distracted you?" You grin, forgetting your pain. "Were you perhaps staring at me?"

"Forget I said anything."

"Too late! Admit it, you were checking me out."

His delightful blush is back in full force, "Was not! I was making sure you didn't fall."

You pat his cheek, "Well, you did catch me when I fell. And I guess I fell for you."

He stumbles slightly, making you laugh and cry out in pain at the same time.

"Watch your step Rorozo," you smack him lightly on the head.

"Don't call me that."

"Never," you run your hand over his hair, "I think you secretly like it."

He doesn't say anything and neither do you. Despite your injury, you are enjoying the moment of closeness between you and the swordsman.

It's moments like these that lighten your heart and bring a smile to your face.

His hand shifts over your thigh, "Maybe I do like it. This."

"Me?" You add softly, tracing patterns through his soft hair.

"Maybe."

"Well, maybe I do too," you bend down and press a kiss to his forehead. "Like you."

His hand tightens on your leg, his other hand coming up to caress your hair in a rare display of physical affection.

"Y'know, Sanji's gonna faint when he sees us like this," you chuckle, imagining his reaction.

"Maybe that stupid love-cook will finally leave you alone."

"Sanji? Stop fawning over a drop dead gorgeous woman? It's unlikely."

Zoro reads his head up to try and glare at you, making you wince as you jolt your injured leg.

"Don't worry Rorozo- I only have eyes for you."

At that confession, he stops in his tracks.

"That's it."

He lowers you to the ground, your confusion growing. Weren't you both on the same page just a second ago?

You're not on the ground for long though, as Zoro picks you up bridal-style and stares into your eyes.

"When you say things like that," he tsks, "I want to shut you up."

Before you can ask what he means, he presses his lips against yours, hard.

He breaks away far too soon, “That’s better.”

“If that’s how you’re gonna do it, you can shut me up anytime,” you grin, lean your head against him.

Wrapped up in his warm embrace, you’ve forgotten all about the pain in your leg…

Or the fact that Zoro is once again walking in the wrong direction.

#female reader #imagine #reader insert #x reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #op zoro #zoro x reader #Zoro #pirate hunter zoro #fanfic #zoro x you #one piece zoro

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lizardboiii · 6 months ago

Text

Tongue Tied┃One Piece

[Protective!Dracule Mihawk x Poneglyph Speaking!Reader]

│Summary: Washed up on a gloomy shore, your only solace is a dark an empty castle. Yet, when the castle's only resident finally returns, you are met with an undeniable problem. The language you speak is completely dead to his world.

"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."

"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"

・❥・

│cw: 18+, SFW, violent undertones, f!reader, mihawk's eyes, terrible nicknames

│wc: 1.8k

│chapters: I II III

│notes: poneglyph writing/speaking in different font. normal font is any other language as written. enjoy <3

・❥・

│Chapter I: Bird of Prey

Squawking.

Soft and high pitch, the incessant cries of seagulls flooded your ears like a symphony. You groaned audibly at the noise. An action you almost instantly regretted as a sudden rush of frigid sea water seeped into your cracked mouth.

Hacking up a storm, you were quick to come to your, mostly delirious, senses. You laid sprawled out on a strange gloomy shore. The water, almost too calm for your liking, combined with an eerie fog rolling in from the seemingly endless coastline, felt as if you entered purgatory.

Stumbling to your soaked feet, you tested your balance. Though your legs wavered slightly, you managed to pull yourself from the water’s surprisingly strong tide. You felt like you might be sucked back out to sea.

Swallowing nervously, you grimaced at the bitter taste of salt still lathered on your tongue. It was a sickly reminder of your current predicament. You were completely stranded, alone. Clenching your eyes shut, you replayed the moments before the disaster.

Your rickety fishing boat swayed innocently on the open water, unaware of the massive storm brewing overhead. You had no time to prepare, no time to act, no time to ensure any self-preservation. In the blink of an eye, the sky blackened.

The small white capping waves surrounding you abruptly grew in size and violence. Your small boat stood no chance. The futile struggle to stay right side up only lasted moments. With one final wave, your boat capsized from the continuous abuse.

Shrieking, your body was thrown into the raging sea like a rag doll. You struggled hard against the current, only managing to break the water’s surface every couple of seconds.

Eventually, your arms grew too tired, too weak, too heavy. It became more of a struggle to convince yourself to stay afloat than to fight the waves dragging you beneath their depths. Then, the world went dark.

Taking a deep breath, you willed away any more dreadful thoughts. The sooner you could find another spare ship the quicker you could go back home.

Scanning your surroundings, you searched for any ships, abandoned or not. Immediately your eyes caught a shocking scene. Nestled far beyond the shore, a massive crumbling castle towered over the island. You couldn't help but remark how fitting it was.

The discovery did little to encourage you. An abandoned castle meant no life, and no life meant no ships. You threaded your fingers through your hair. How could this get any worse?

The sound of thunder mocked your internal monologue. Groaning loudly, you began your venture towards the lonesome castle in an attempt to escape the rapidly forming storm.

You managed to reach the half point mark before your skin began to crawl. You couldn't help but feel like something, or someone, was watching you through the underbrush. Though you tried to chalk it up to paranoia, you swore you saw something red glowing within the trees. It was just your luck to be marooned on a haunted island.

Whether it was divine intervention or simply uninterest, you managed to reach the chipped steps of the castle unscathed. Although that didn't stop you from hightailing it inside.

A closer look inside the fortress told you just how regal it once appeared to be: large stained glass windows, tall decorative pillars, and corridors that seemed to stretch for miles. You were in awe from the moment you entered.

In due time, you found your way to an equally extravagant dining room. The wood of the table was scratched and weathered, but ultimately well taken care of. However, the real centerpiece of the room was a massive chair befitting the end.

The plush seat was adorned with gold trim and a deep red leather. You wondered if someone had lugged it in there from the throne room. Swiping a finger across the armrest, you rubbed your fingers together. A thick layer of dust slowly floated to the ground.

You hummed more so to yourself, “𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚍.”

Spinning on your heel, you shamelessly plopped yourself down on the gaudy throne. It wouldn't hurt to live in a palace. For a short while at least. You could stay there until you were able to either build another boat or be lucky enough to be rescued.

You smiled, “𝙸𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚊 𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚎𝚗.”

・❥・

After a month of trial and error, it seemed like you greatly overestimated your raft crafting capabilities. The trees on the island were far too thick for you to cut down with no ax, and any driftwood washed up on the beach seemed to crumble from even the gentlest touch.

You were starting to wonder if you’d be trapped there forever.

That was until you ventured out on your daily search for partly salvageable driftwood. Aloft the gentle waves was an all too strange… ship? Raft? Casket? To be honest, you weren’t exactly sure what it was.

There was only thing you knew for sure, the small vessel was currently barreling towards your remote island. You could barely contain your excitement.

You were going home.

Dropping the withered planks in your hands, you allowed them to shatter against the plush sand before bolting to get closer with the ship. Your eyes remained locked in on the crossed shaped mast that grew ever closer. Its black sails signaling “Freedom”.

Your tunnel vision made you stumble and trip over your own feet as you ran. And when you weren't running - you were crawling. Your hands desperately clawed at the damp sand in order to lift yourself back to your feet. You could not bear to lose your fleeting chance of leaving your island prison.

Eventually, the gothic ship docked. Its black sails were slowly being pulled into bundles when you finally managed to reach it. And reach it you did.

You met the ship with little discretion. Squabbling and frantic, you made no effort to contain your emotions in front of the ship’s presumed Captain. Manners could wait until your safety was secured.

Thrusting your hands in the air, you made your presence widely known, “𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎!”

The man before you hesitated slightly before releasing his hold on the black stained linen. Turning his obscured face, you noted the lackluster expression he wore. He seemed neither surprised nor unsurprised, merely…inconvenienced.

“𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞,” you laughed awkwardly, “𝙸 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗, 𝙼𝚢 𝙶𝚘𝚍, 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙸 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝙰 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑 𝚋𝚢 𝚗𝚘𝚠!”

The man greeted your pitiful tangent with a stagnant silence. If you hadn't noticed his previous disinterest, you definitely noticed it now. Taking a deep breath, you internally assessed your newly appointed “savior”.

He stood tall, extremely so. He was taller than any man you knew on your home island. You assumed you'd only reach his chest if you stood side by side. However, he certainly did not lack in the muscle department either. He was broad, thick even. You wondered if his shoulders were as firm as they looked.

Gradually, your eyes wandered to an elegantly crafted coat. The dark red of his sleeves were a stark contrast against his unnaturally pale skin which, unsurprisingly, he left on full display. Not that you minded of course.

However, the most striking attribute he bore was his eyes. They shone brighter than any golden jewel found on the Grand Line, rivaling the sun itself. You certain even Helios swooned over his canary colored irises.

Entranced, you allowed yourself to be captivated. The thick black rims surrounding his pupils produced an almost stained glass appearance. All you wanted to do was consume more, read into them like a devout worshiper. It was as if they bore scripture.

You unconsciously shifted forward, trying to get a closer look. That was your first mistake. Abruptly, those very eyes sharpened with hostility, sizing you up like a hawk. It seemed your sudden movement labeled you a threat.

“Who are…”

The temperature felt as if it plummeted. Icy and thick, you didn't need hands around your neck to feel like you were being strangled. You couldn't understand why this was happening, mainly because…

“You?”

You had no idea what he was saying.

Hands trembling, you stared at the man above you in confusion. You were sure if you did not respond he could, and would, take action. Maybe if you weren't quick enough in answering he’d kidnap you and sell you off for some pocket change. Or worse, he would kill you for just causing him trouble.

You racked your brain for any semblance of a response. What could you have even done to warrant such an intense reaction?

“…𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝,” You swallowed hard, “𝚄𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍?”

The tense atmosphere gave way slightly, releasing its invisible hold on your throat.

Sighing quietly, the ravenette grumbled to himself, “It seems we don’t speak the same language. How inconvenient.”

Annoyed, the taller man searched your person with his honey laced eyes. Satisfied with his findings, he returned his attention back to his vessel. You pondered if your lack of weapons made you into a problem that could be “dealt with later”.

However, you didn't want to be tossed aside until later. You wanted to return home. And if that meant attempting communication with a hostile vampiric asshole, you'd have to try!

“𝚄𝚖,” You scrambled to the other side of the man's ship in an attempt to regain his attention.

“𝚂𝚒𝚛, 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝!”

Goldy, newly nicknamed, paid you no mind, favoring to strap down his ship without haste. You chewed on the inside of your cheek in frustration.

Shuffling beside him, you implemented drastic measures. However, your hand only managed to move a centimeter towards Goldy’s arm before your wrist was swiftly snatched in a painful grip.

Not wasting a moment of Goldy’s notice, you began frantically pointing at yourself with your free hand, “𝙸!”

You motioned at the ship, “𝙽𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

Goldy released his iron grip and stood to his full height, “Stop being troublesome.”

“𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚝. 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎!”

The ravenette merely continued to stare at you disinterested. Perhaps he was debating if cutting you down now would be easier than listening to nonsensical ramblings.

Nevertheless, you waved your hands down your body, “𝙼𝚎!”

You gestured at his ship, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

You clasped your hands together, “𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎!”

"Flailing your hands around isn't going to make me understand you any more."

"𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚌𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐!"

Goldy easily ignored your pestering and walked around you, “I don’t have time for this.”

“𝚆𝚊𝚒𝚝!” You ran after his form, “𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝! 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝! 𝙱𝚘𝚊𝚝!”

You followed Goldy with continued pleas. Yet, his long legs persisted across the desolate beach to the hidden pathway located in the tree line.

Your brows furrowed at the observation. It took you a week to find the secret trail that led from the beach straight to the castle. How could he have found it so easily?

You finally fell silent as Goldy traversed the path like the back of his hand. He walked confidently. It was as if he had been on the island before.

A sudden thought crossed your mind.

Goldy lived here.

・❥・

#one piece #one piece fanfic #one piece x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #seven warlords #marines #one piece marines #poneglyph #language barrier #enemies to friends to lovers #friends to lovers

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commandershepardvasfuckit · 2 months ago

Text

Second part to this (direct continuation)

NSFW, minors do not interact

Fem!reader x zandalari troll, fingering, squirting, size kink

“So tired just from that?” Daz’ai’s words were teasing but playful as he watched you wobble and lean on the door for support.

Between having your knees locked the whole time and the thorough job he had done eating you out you were wobbling as if the ship was in a storm instead of docked. You were also in no condition to protest as Daz’ai lifted you up and carried you to the bed where he then carefully laid you down among the pillows.

You watched as he undid his belt, unable to tear your eyes from him actually. It was mesmerizing watching his tattoos catch the sunlight, watching muscles move under taut skin. He moved slowly and with purpose, giving you a sly smile and watching your reaction when he finally stepped out of his pants.

Surprise was not quite the right word, you already had a good idea of what you would be dealing with, but still there must have been a look of shock on your face, which only seemed to make Daz’ai smile more.

“Don’t you worry, I have nothing but time to get you ready. It’s one of my favorite parts” his eyes never leaving your face.

He settled down onto the bed and pulled you close, your back flush against his chest, dwarfed by his size. His knee nudged your thighs apart and you felt him nestle his cock between your legs, rubbing against your still wet folds.

Automatically you angled your hips back, trying to give him a better angle to line up with you, which only made him laugh.

“While I appreciate your enthusiasm, trust me when I say that’s not going to work” the rumbles of his laugh and voice traveled pleasantly down your spine and straight between your legs. “Let me enjoy you like this while you find your legs again”.

Slowly he thrusted between your thighs, the remaining wetness of your cunt let him slide easily. His hand pressed down on to the top of your leg, nudging you squeeze him between them firmly and you happily complied.

Clearly he was in no hurry, lazily thrusting while the hand that was on your leg drifted up and under your shirt. Rough, calloused fingertips gently pinched and rolled one of your nipples and you let out a soft sigh in response.

“Not many humans making their way to Dazar’alor, even with the war over, so what brings you here?” he asked nonchalantly as if he was not currently grinding between your thighs.

Between soft sighs you managed to answer him, “Just needed a change. I went my whole life living in one city, figured it was time to get out in the world”.

Once more his low, rumbling laugh sent pleasant tingles down your spine and left a warmth between your legs, “Now that, that’s something I truly understand” he said.

Tentatively you reached down and ran your fingers along his tip as it poked out from between your plump thighs, feeling the beads of pre cum forming. You pressed his shaft up against your folds and clit more firmly, enjoying the friction as he continued to grind against you.

“And not shy, I like that” he said as he gave your nipple a particularly firm pinch that made you let out a loud moan, “I like people who know what they want”.

You closed your eyes, exhausted from both the long voyage to Dazar’alor and from Daz’ai, though more than happy to let Daz’ai continue with you how he pleased. With how tall he was, your head was only up to the middle of his chest laying like this, making you feel completely enveloped by him as he curled around you. He reached down with his free hand to tilt your face up to look at him, at this angle his tusks got in the way trying to kiss the top of your head, so he settled for just pressing his forehead to the top of your head instead.

It would be a lie to say that you were not at least a little confused by him, he was awfully gentle and affectionate for a hook up.

“So,” you began, “have you been with humans before?”

Another laugh from him pleasantly traveled down your spine from where you were pressed against him, “Many times, I’m actually quite fond of humans, the soft little things you are” he gave the fat of your hip a squeeze with the hand that had been resting on your thigh.

The smirks and giggles from his crew made more since now, an apparent pattern of behavior for him, not that it mattered to you. You had just been curious to see the warship up close, the fact that the captain was handsome and had a things for humans was just a bonus.

“So is this how you usually get someone in bed with you? Invite them to your ship and bring them back to your quarters?” you teased.

“I usually just head to the tavern, find someone interesting, then hope they have a partner who also wants to come along too” he smiled back.

You blushed at his words, figuring it was probably not a joke. He was confident, knew what he liked, and clearly was very experienced, and it was wildly attractive.

Carefully he rolled onto his back and pulled you on top of him, setting you to straddle his hips, and seeing him under you was quite a sight.

Regal would be a good word to describe him. From the little bit you knew of Zandalari culture you knew he was not just handsome to you as a human, but definitely drew attention everywhere he went. He was tall, well muscled with a broad chest and back, and very impressive tusks. You remembered hearing people on the voyage to Dazar’alor giggle over tusk sizes and possible correlations, and well, maybe there was some merit.

A few stands of long white hair had slipped free from where he kept his hair tied up. His tattoos were mesmerizing, the ink shined like gold in the light and you traced your fingers along the lines on his chest. As you touched him he watched you, though you could not meet his gaze, there was something about the glow of his solid colored eyes was just too intense.

“So,” you began, “you have a thing for humans?”

“I do. Is that a problem?” he asked back, his hands on your hips encouraging you to grind against him.

“No, I’m just surprised, I always heard that the Zandalari were pretty insular”.

He snorted, and though it was hard to tell for sure, you were fairly certain he rolled his eyes, “Not insular” he corrected firmly, “We are explorers and keepers of knowledge, we just have our way of life and very few are willing to leave and give it up”.

“Oh” you said softly. His tone was firm, but not annoyed or angry, though it left you feeling like you were a kid back in school being scolded by a teacher for asking a dumb question.

“One of the most important things to us is collecting and preserving knowledge. You cannot build the libraries we have if you refuse to travel and learn about others, and I quite like learning about others, especially hands on”. He moved a large hand up to your breast to gently give you a squeeze and seemingly to make his point.

“And what have you learned about humans?” you asked.

He let out a low hum before speaking, “Humans are cocky, you see a Zandalari and want to start a fight. I’m no fighter, but I’ve sent many cocky humans home with wounded pride.

“And humans come in so many shapes and sizes, unlike Zandalari. My people value strength almost above all else, does not leave a lot of room for different looks, it’s boring. But a human like you? Soft and round, how much better it feels to have soft thighs around my cock, how good those wide hips look bent over, being able to grab on and get a good handful of someone?” his other hand grabbed onto the fat of your hip, “So beautifully different than what I was used to”.

Your face was red hot from the way he spoke, from the way he looked at you with such desire.

“So, my pretty little human, think you’re steady enough now for me to really tire you out?” he asked.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, still worn out from earlier and now overstimulated from his shaft rubbing your clit the whole time, “All yours” you smiled still.

It was surprising how quickly he could move. Before you knew it he had flipped you onto your back on the bed and was seated between your legs. His hands started at your knees and he took his time gently squeezing and playing with your thighs as he worked his way up, occasionally stopping to kiss the tops of your legs. You marveled at his hands, only two thick fingers and a thumb per hand like all trolls, and you were eager to experience what he could do with them.

Daz’ai slowly dragged one of those thick fingers between your folds and tentatively pressed against your entrance. “You’ll tell me if anything is too much, ok?” it was not a question as much as it was a command.

“Ok” you answered back, already panting in anticipation.

The stretch from his finger was incredible and you squirmed under his careful touch as he began to enter you. He paused periodically, anticipating when it was getting to be too much even before you needed to say anything. Occasionally stopping to rub his finger along your wet heat while he patiently waited for you to adjust.

“By the light you really know what you’re doing” you gasped as he slid his finger in a bit farther.

“I’ve had plenty of practice” he gave you a sly smile.

Expertly and thoroughly he worked you over, sliding his finger almost entirely out before gently working in back in and softly rubbing against your cervix once you were able to handle it. Many time he paused just a few inches in to stroke your most sensitive spots, making you see stars. None of his movements were fast nor particularly intense, instead he was precise, listening to your moans and constantly adjusting what he was doing.

As he settled into a steady pattern and rhythm with you, his free hand moved to your clit. His pressure was light as he started, tentatively varying it until he found what really made you moan. Never once did he falter in his rhythm, nor did he look away from your face.

“Just relax, pretty little thing. You’re still so tense, and haven’t I been so gentle with you?” he cooed.

You closed you eyes, just focusing on how incredible everything felt.

It was hard to tell how old Daz’ai was exactly, all you knew was he was older than you, wildly more experienced than you, and that you were more than happy to let him lead.

You could feel how hard you were clenching around his finger as you got closer. The tension in your core building endlessly from his steady pace, enough to leave you panting but not enough to tip you over the edge.

“Please” you begged him for the second time that day.

“Hmmmm? ‘Please’ what?” he asked back, a teasing tone in his voice.

“More. Please”.

“I was going to drag this out as long as I could, but if you’re going to ask so nicely” he trailed off, pressing another kiss to the top of your leg before making sure you felt every bit of him, his steady pace increasing and making your toes curl.

All you could manage was incoherent babbling, strings of “yes” or “oh fuck” as you felt like every nerve in your body was on fire in the most incredible way. The first waves of your release hit hard, your brain locking up and not being able to make a sound for the first few moments, then came a new feeling. A spray of fluids from you that coated Da’zai chest and the sheets under you.

“I’m so sorry! That’s never happened before” you exclaimed in your embarrassment. “I don’t know what- I didn’t mean to”

Swiftly he cut you off, looking highly amused as you babbled on in a panic, “I have that effect on people. And whatever you think just happened? No”.

“No?”

“No” he repeated, a cocky smile now on his face, “Though, now I know I’m the best you’ve ever had”.

Even without seeing yourself, you knew your face was beet red. He was right. He was the best you have ever had and by a wide margin. You had had plenty of good sex in your life, even great sex at times, but Daz’ai’s idea of foreplay was an entirely different thing.

He dragged himself over to lay on his side next to you, pausing only for a moment to use the corner of the sheet to wipe himself off, “Don’t look so embarrassed, it felt good, right?” he asked.

“Yeah” was all you could manage, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest from your orgasm and your embarrassment.

“It’s normal, not something everyone can do, but my ego does like that I must be the first to get you to squirt” slowly he ran his fingers along your hips and leg, “And that was just a finger, imagine how good it’ll feel riding my cock while I play with your clit and nipples”.

You squirmed as you felt your cunt flutter in response to his words, already feeling more wetness forming at the thought.

“I’m going to have so much fun playing with this pretty, soft body” he cooed at you as he tossed an arm over you and happily kneaded his hand into the fat of your hips.

The way he looked at you made you blush more than his words, the intense desire mixed with a gentleness.

“You look so good like this, feeling so good, so pliable and ready for me. Rest for moment, close your eyes and doze if you need, and then when you’re ready I’m going to make sure you come looking for my ship any time you’re in the city”.

————

Part 3 in pined post since mobile is fighting me on adding links

#monster lover #monster fucker #teratophillia #terato #zandalari troll #troll #chubby reader

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idkfitememate · 21 days ago

Note

Shiro Enjoyer here,

Hear me out, a dog/cat creator but because of the games mechanics, they can't pet them, pick them up etc., and can only watch on in horror at the chaos they commit

Inazuma Encounter

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : Canine Bushin!Reader x Inazuma

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. :

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Crack

Aether had seen all the dog breeds across the world of Teyvat. He honestly didn’t even think about all the diffrent dog breeds he’d see on the way, the puppies becoming after thoughts in his mind as he traveled.

Sure, he desperately wanted to pet them from time to time, but it was as though the universe itself hated his guts because for some unthinkable reason, he couldn’t pet them. He could get as close as he wanted, but no petting.

Right now, however, Aether did not want to pet a dog. He needed to restrain a dog.

The Traveler had come back to Inazuma to drop off a couple things for a couple different people, say hi to some friends, the usual. But instead, he found himself watching a dog the size of a bear, donned with one the largest broadswords he’d ever seen with a catalyst floating ominously behind it.

It swung violently at Fatui members on the harbor, next to what he could only assume to be a Fatui ship. The grunts were moving large crates both on and off the boat, the dog guarding the passage. The dog sat on its haunches, tail entirely still as the broadsword sat loosely in its maw. Its sharp gaze ran over every grunt in the vicinity, and even as Aether hid further inland, he was 99.9999% sure the dog had noticed him.

“You’re suspicious of that dog as well?” Aether jumped, looking over to find Gorou crouched beside him, ears twitching angrily.

Aether nodded and Gorou huffed. The two were silent while watching the large dog order about the Fatui members with loud, commanding barks that echoed.

“I’ve been watched them for a few days,” Gorou muttered suddenly, “they haven’t done anything per se… but it’s still suspicious, right??” He whispered urgently. Aether nodded, taking his eyes off the dog to look Gorou in the eyes.

The Inu’s ears twitched, and his head shot back into position, finding that the large Fatui dog… was gone.

“HUH?!-“ he exclaimed, jumping up and stringing his bow, hands steady as he looked around, fangs bared. Aether jumped up as well, summoning his sword.

Silence surrounded them, save for the confused shoutings of the Fatui members down below. The two stood back to back, breathing steadily, looking aware warily.

It was sudden, the way you dropped from the sky, broadsword stuck deep within the earth between them. Aether and Gorou jumped away, both aiming their own attacks. Gorou launched a barrage of Geo infused arrows while Aether leapt forward to strike with an Electro infused blade.

You looked up from your blade, eyes steadily taking in both attacks for what they were worth. You could feel their piercing gazes.

You could feel those gazes turn to shock and maybe even fear when Anemo swirled around you violently, allowing for you to take flight. Subsequently, all attacks missed, but now the duo watched as your blade wretched itself from the earth below and flew up to you, hovering ominously beside you.

Aether watched, jaw clenched, as a hat flew from over by the ship with a little emblem stamped on its front, and now that he was really looking, also on your collar.

You set yourself down gently, the air crackling with Electro and storming with Anemo. A strong gust kept both Aether and Gorou confined inside a quickly formed arena. The hat was laid on your head, ears poking through holes at the top. Finally, the emblems upon your form had the chance to shine.

The sign of a Fatui Harbinger.

You growled, and Fatui dressed like the Samuri of the land slowly creeped in from the shadows, holding swords of their own. A particularly large one stood tall and spoke.

“BOW TO THEY: NUMBER SIX, OF THE FATUI HARBINGERS - THE RUGANTINO!”

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note: Eating steak rn hbu

#Genshin impact Sagau #sagau x reader #Sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #x gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #asks <3 #Canine Bushin!Creator

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system-to-the-madness · 1 month ago

Text

Ice - Zuko x Reader

Word Count: 2 582 Warnings: kidnapping, injury, war Summary: After kidnapping the Avatar at the Northpole, Zuko has an unexpected encounter with the person he was longing to see the most A/N: Can be read as a oneshot; Part Two of the series Perfect (10 times Zuko thought you were perfect and the first time he told you), Part One is here Dividers: original by @thecutestgrotto edit by me (colour only)

Zuko sat on the cold ground of the ice cave, his gaze absentmindedly pointed towards the cave’s exit, where a snowstorm kept raging on. If it weren’t for that storm, he long could have gotten the Avatar back to the ship, the Avatar, who lay unconscious and tied up on the floor just a few feet away. But instead, he was stuck here, in this ice dessert.

How had people ever thought it would be a good idea to build a life up here, so far North? There was nothing here but freezing cold sea, ice and snow. Sure, he knew the territory of the Fire Nation was not necessarily more inviting; most of it was rough stone and dusty ground.

But it had not always been that way. Hundreds of years ago, there had been blooming gardens and tall forests, thriving on the nutrient rich ash the volcanoes spit out. When Fire Lord Sozin had declared the war, the gardens and fields with flowers had been neglected until everything had died or been paved over. Once beautiful parks had been turned into training centres for soldiers. The forests had been cleared to access the iron in the ground and to use the wood for firing up the engines.

Zuko vividly remembered the images in his schoolbooks about the “sacrifice of meaningless aesthetics for the great cause of uniting the world underneath the banner of the Fire Nation”. It had never seemed quite right to him, but he had known better than to question his ancestors’ decisions. Maybe that was why he enjoyed the trips to Ember Island so much: Because there was still nature there.

The storm outside carried snowflakes past the entrance, and in his slowly but surely sleepy mind, he was certain the white, glimmering crystals arranged themselves to your likeliness. A few weeks ago, the idea that his sleep deprived mind taunted him by recognizing your face in all kinds of unrelated patterns, clouds, stars, waves, had terrified him. Now it was almost comforting, imagining the snowflakes to form that face that had burned itself into his memory.

He hadn’t seen you since he had broken you and the Avatar out of Zhao’s prison. While he had run into the Avatar’s little gang of run-aways, you never seemed to have been around. Maybe you had split from the group, maybe you had recognized that betraying your Nation by helping their number one enemy was not the best choice in life. And while Zuko wanted to be satisfied with this explanation, he couldn’t help that empty feeling in his chest that told him that he might never see you again. If you had still been traveling with the Avatar, he could have met you again, but if you had left, the chances of finding you were close to zero. Sure, he knew what you looked like and what your name was. But unlike the Avatar, you wouldn’t stir up as much attention, which meant people wouldn’t notice you, the same way he barely had taken notice of you before getting you out of that cell. Which again in turn meant that when people didn’t notice you, nobody would be able to point him towards where you were.

Zuko shook his head. Was he seriously considering searching for you, someone who, without a second thought had betrayed their nation? He had captured the Avatar; his path was set. He only would have to get him onto a ship now and sail back to the Fire Nation. There he would hand over the boy to his father, who would welcome him home with open arms, and make him his right-hand man, as Zuko had always dreamt of being. He would get to sleep in his bed again, cool, silken sheets wrapping around his body and would get to eat all his favourite foods again.

Still, he knew that your face would haunt him forever, the way you had stood over these guards who you had defeated. The same way your cry would always haunt him, when he had burnt you. He hadn’t meant to, and he wished he could tell you that he hadn’t intended to hurt you. But he never had gotten the chance.

After he had been knocked out on the escape from Zhao, he had woken up in a forest, on a pile of leaves. The Avatar had talked to him, about old friends from the Fire Nation, but Zuko’s entire focus had been on you, who had sat curled in on yourself next to the Avatar. A stripe of orange cloth, doubtlessly from the Avatar’s clothing, had been wrapped around your left arm where Zuko had burnt you in his clumsy attempt to save you from the attacking Fire Benders. You hadn’t looked at him, but even from where he had been laying, it had been obvious, that you had been exhausted. Your eyes had seemed sunken in, you had looked sickly, and even from the distance Zuko had been able to see that you were shaking.

When the Avatar’s words had driven rage into Zuko’s blood, and he had tried attacking the boy, the two of you had simply disappeared. The Avatar had grabbed you as if you didn’t weight more than a small child even though you were taller than him, and together you had disappeared in the branches of the tall trees and Zuko had been left to wonder when or if he would ever get to see your eyes again.

When or if he would ever get to see you look at him with anything other than shock, fear or hatred.

Zuko was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the Avatar struggling against his restraints. So that little bastard was awake. Quickly Zuko jumped to his feet.

“Welcome back,” Zuko said, glaring at the small body wringing on the ground of the ice cave.

“It’s good to be back,” the Avatar responded, and before Zuko knew what had happened, he was thrown backwards against the wall behind him, his back forcefully knocking into the ice, making pain shoot through his skull and stars dance before his eyes.

As quickly as his aching body allowed, Zuko scrambled back to his feet, chasing after the Avatar, who had made it outside already, trying to wriggle across the snow.

“That won't be enough to escape,” Zuko hissed, pulling the Avatar up by his shirt. He wouldn’t let that kid escape again. He was the only way Zuko would ever get to go home; he needed the Avatar.

A familiar sound above him alerted Zuko even before the Avatar exclaimed: “Appa!”

No, no there was no way. He wouldn’t give up this chance. He had learnt from the past run-ins with the Avatar’s friends. They wouldn’t best him this time. Not now, that he finally had the Avatar so tightly in his grasp, not now, that he was so close to finally going home.

The Sky Bison landed a few meters away in the snow, and the Water Tribe girl jumped down from the beast’s back. But for a moment, just a short moment, Zuko’s attention was on something entirely different, someone different. From behind the saddle of the Sky Bison, a familiar pair of eyes stared at him, familiar hair whipping in the wind. So, you had not left the Avatar’s company, you just hadn’t been close by during the other encounters the group had had with Zuko since your escape from Zhao.

Zuko felt a weight fall off his shoulders. You were here, and you were okay. Even just from the short glance he gave you, he could tell that you were in far better shape than the last time he had seen you in that forest. You seemed to have recovered well after the strain of your imprisonment.

His attention focused back on the Water Tribe girl, who was glaring daggers at him in the dark, moon-lit snow desert. Pushing the Avatar aside, Zuko lifted his hands, ready to fight.

“Here for a rematch,” he challenged. There was no way he would make it home with the Avatar without defeating his annoying, little girlfriend and the others first. Even if it meant fighting against and hurting you again, he had to do it. He couldn’t let you – or anyone else – stand in his way, not when he finally would get the chance to go home.

“Trust me Zuko, it's not going to be much of a match.”

He wanted to scuff at the girl’s words, but before he could, he suddenly was lifted into the air. He only had a moment to realise what was happening. They were surrounded by snow; snow was just hard water. He had challenged a Water Bender while she was in her element and he in the one that was furthest from his bending skill. Which, objectively speaking, was an awful idea. But still, how was she so powerful that she could just throw him around like this? Had he lost so much of his skill? And if he lost this match, they would take the Avatar back with them, would take his only way to go home. He couldn’t let them take that from him, not again. Not after all these years he had spent chasing after the Avatar in the desperate hope to finally go-

The next moment he crashed into the ground, and everything turned black.

Zuko crashed into the ground and a moment later Sokka had already reached Aang, cutting his restraints with his boomerang.

“Hey, this is some quality robe,” he shouted, holding up the cut rope to show you, while you and Yue stayed seated on Appa’s back.

“We need to get to the oasis; the spirits are in trouble,” Aang explained while he undid the rope that tied together his ankles, before running over to Appa and floating himself onto his usual position between the Sky Bison’s horns, while Sokka came running back to settle down in the saddle next to Yue.

Concerned, your eyes flickered back to the Fire Nation prince. He was laying motionless in the snow where Katara had dropped him. You sure didn’t like him, and he had tried kidnapping Aang on more occasions than you could remember. The world would certainly be a better place without him in it, trying to chase all of you down the whole time. But he didn’t deserve being left behind in the snow desert like this. He was unconscious, and who knew for how long. You couldn’t just let him freeze out here.

You were about to speak up, when Aang’s voice sounded over the harsh wind.

“Wait,” he said, making you look at him. His eyes were focused on the unconscious boy laying in the snow. “We can’t just leave him here.”

“Sure we can,” Sokka disagreed. “Let's go.”

“No, if we leave him, he'll die,” Aang responded stubbornly.

“We don’t know how long he’ll be unconscious for,” you added. “He might freeze if we leave him.”

Aang jumped off Appa, and down into the snow, grabbing Zuko and Air Bending them both back onto Appa’s back.

“Yeah, this makes a lot of sense,” Sokka complained sarcastically. “Let's bring the guy who's constantly trying to kill us.”

Appa took off with a slight growl and Aang dropped Zuko right into your lap, startling you.

“Let’s tie his hands at least,” Sokka whined, holding up the rope with which Aang had previously been tied up.

Rolling your eyes, you shifted the unconscious Prince out of your lap. He was kind of pretty, you thought, as you watched Sokka tie him up. The scar that covered half of the left side of his face was the trace of a bad burn, far worse than the handprint he had left behind on your arm, but it did little to lessen his beauty. The truth was, he had a beautiful face, soft features. If his hair hadn’t mostly been shaven, he might look almost gentle.

Quickly you chased the thought away. Sokka was right, Zuko had tried to kill you and your friends on multiple occasions. You shouldn’t be thinking about him as casually as this. But he had also saved yours and Aang’s life, even though if things had gone according to his plan, you probably would not have escaped. And still… you had a feeling there was more to his story than you were aware of at the moment.

Everything was hazy around him, the ground swaying underneath his body, soft, uneven movements. His wrists hurt, he realized, but his body felt too weak to even try to struggle against the rope that bound his hands. Being unable to move at all, he kept his eyes closed, listening to his surroundings instead. There was the rushing of wind, and the distant sound of people talking, of young people talking. Where was he? What had happened to him? The material he was laying on seemed to be leather, and the swaying was too soft to be that of a boat. Was he on an animal’s back? The ground seemed surprisingly even, not bent as it would have been had it been the saddle of an ostrich horse.

A searing pain shot through his head. Maybe thinking wasn’t the best way to solve the question of where he was right now. So instead, he carefully blinked open his eyes. Above him, the night sky opened up with thousands of stars glimmering in the dark, only a few clouds occasionally interrupting the seemingly endless abys of sparkling darkness. The sight was dizzying, making his head spin. And then suddenly someone leant over him. Zuko still felt so out of it, that he didn’t even flinch as the face appeared above him, the face that had kept haunting him in the past weeks as he had tried catching up to the Avatar.

“You better stay down,” you warned him, but the words barely registered in Zuko’s mind that was too preoccupied by processing just how beautiful you looked above him. The light of the moon reflected in your eyes, making them shimmer like a deep lake in which he only would have been all too happy to drown. Night wind whipped through your hair, pulling at your strands and blowing them over your face. A cut ran across your cheek, red and fresh, the blood barely dried.

A wave of anger shot through Zuko. Who had dared touching, dared hurting you? But then your voice pulled his focus away from the small wound again.

“Stay down,” you repeated.

Zuko’s eyes focused on your lips, the way they formed around the words. Soft looking, smooth lips, that made him wonder if you had ever kissed anyone before. Certainly you had. He couldn’t be the first to notice just how beautiful you were. And you weren’t just beautiful. You were a warrior, you knew how to handle yourself in a fight, you didn’t give up easily and pushed through hardship, no matter how exhausted you were. This much he had learnt from the short time he had spent with you during that prison escape. And you were stubborn and clever and if the look in your eyes as you watched him being barely able to keep his eyes open was anything to go by, you were also kind and sensible. You were perfect.

That was his last thought before he fell unconscious again.

Next Chapter (11. Oct. 2024) | Masterlist

Tags (it seems like some of the tags aren't working, sorry...): @ghoststookourlifes @ashcal99 @4acoffee @pxrplewalnxt @toomuchboredd @banished--prince @oddobsessionbutotay @makik0 @joysflower @hamdehlesmis @mitski9328373 @angstylittleb1tch @lovecalll

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko x yn #prince zuko x reader #mad atla #avatar the last airbender x you #avatar the last airbender x yn #avatar the last airbender x y/n #avatar the last airbender x reader #perfect zuko x reader

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1800titz · 1 year ago

Text

Hi friends! I’ve been sitting on this for about 3 months now and had the spontaneous urge to share. More lengthy authors note is over on wattpad. ٩(◕‿◕)۶

This one is going to be a long, chaptered fic, and here's the first chapter!

Also, big thank you to Miss @freedomfireflies for her help brainstorming <3

WC: 6.5K

Harry thinks that prissy, pretty little princesses stowed away in his cabin, tied up with ropes like haphazard, shibari interpretations, outweigh all chests, upon chests, of dainty sapphire emblems and chunky pendants of gold. This particular …treasure, in fact, is worth far beyond her weight in pure gold. A sight for sore eyes, too. Still sopping from the sea, her low-cut neckline clinging to her flesh and her skirt sheerly draped over her parted thighs.

It’s a nice view.

Seren doesn’t know how she’s ended up strapped to some horribly uncomfortable stool in a rocking room that’s wood, ceiling to floor.

Well.

She knows that the boat she was on was a victim of piracy. She knows that the ship, aimed for Holland, met an unsightly demise at some point, in open ocean, between Rotterdam and Harwich. She knows she’d been in a cabin of the Mary when the first strike landed, when flames erupted over the forecastle, when the deck turned to screams and a beautiful morning of calm skies, wisps of white she’d admired minutes prior, meant virtually nothing to the tightening in her chest.

The pirate leans back against the wall. His eyes, like emeralds, wind over her shape. She grits at the balled fabric between her teeth, chest heaving. He’s a man — a man’s man, unlike in appearance to the men she’s used to spending her pastime around, back home. The kinds who wither at the sight of the wrong fork at the dinner table or something, and turn their noses up at the thought of carrying something heavier than forty pounds. The kind whose hair coils pristinely, seemingly solidified rock in place. The kind who carry umbrellas to ward off the glaring rays of the sunlight as they stroll through the courtyard of shrubbery in their fancy shoes and fancy garments. This man is not that type of man.

He’s different, she can see it just in the way he carries himself. He’s not scared to get his hands dirty, he’s not scared to do the work. The crest of his left cheekbone wears a scar, a nick, so small she wouldn’t see it had he not stepped into the buttery beam of the daylight cast through the little window on the precipice of wall and ceiling, particles of dust dancing in the makeshift spotlight. His fingers, adorned with chunky rings, his hands — they’re calloused, like a laborer. She can see it from her view. His garb is simple, clad over his skin for purpose and comfort, solely.

But simple isn’t the term she’d deem best to describe him, not with his myriad of accessories, from the trinkets glinting from his holster, to his plethora of rings, to the mysterious, rusted key that dangled in the glen between his pecs. That one’s highlighted against bare skin in the vale of his haphazardly unbuttoned shirt. From there, she can see ink over his torso, carved in shapes over swarthy flesh. All sorts of pictures; beaks, and wings, lines of careful shading and others of jet emphasis; thicker, deeper sketches in contrast.

He’s clean shaven, which is unlike any pirate Seren’s ever heard tall tales of. His mouth is pink, cushiony in shape, and when the corners of his mouth turn up, dimples wink awake beside the curl. An even slope of a nose, and jade irises that brew with mischief. Seren can almost see the way that the flinty shade would brew with a storm, like the sea. If he wasn't a pirate of the boat that’d throttled her own, sent it spiraling into the ocean as nothing but husks of chipped wood and dying ember, maybe she’d find an alluring quality to him. But it’s not food for thought.

“Should we try again?” he prompts, in his tantalizing cadence.

When she’d heard him speak, for the first time, she was floored. An Englishman. An Englishman, youthful and spry, sailing a pirate ship, and pillaging when so much more could be in the books for such a man. So much potential, wasted. What a crying shame. She’d heard of pirates, of brutish criminals from her homeland, but they were always, for some reason or another, older, unprepossessing, scarred and crude with unkempt beards and a lack of morals, too far gone to redeem. They had eyes much too hungry for riches, and lewd, groping hands that were much too focused on flesh. Seren eyes his hands. They’re colossal. He hasn’t touched her in that way, not like that, but the lazy smirk over his plush mouth, the way his irises rake over her neckline, down the meshified front of her dress — that practically urges her not to count her blessings too soon.

When he squats just ahead of her, watching her in pause, his eyes glinting with this sort of condescension, because she’s indisposed and at his whim, Seren wishes her legs weren’t bound to the legs of the chair. She’d kick him, if she could. She’d scream, and kick, and claw, and—

“Are you going to start shouting again? Is that what you’re thinking about?” he murmurs, the corners of his mouth buckling. When she’s unable to respond, for obvious reasons, the man cups his palm over the shell of his right ear and twists his head a tad, leaning towards her a smidge.

“M’gonna need an answer, if you’d like to me to un-gag you. M’specifically gonna need a no,” the pirate prompts, a jesting air to his tone that Seren would love to crush. Her chest is still heaving from the last screaming fit, from the first time he’d tugged at the rope pressing to her cheeks and pulled the smushed fabric off of her tongue. His mouth twitches wryly.

He plants his forearms onto his thighs, casting his gaze to her as he weighs out the options, lips crooked, but eyes narrowed, just a bit, in a way that wordlessly suggests she comply.

“Let’s give this another go.”

When the man digs his forefinger under the abrasive rope and yanks it down, over her chin, and then plucks at the outside of the makeshift gag, Seren doesn’t nip at his fingertips. She’d tried that, the first time, but he’d retracted before her teeth could come into contact, his mouth jolting at the fire within her he’d underestimated. She expected a smack, she’d expected her neck to twist as her cheek bruised in response to the attempt, but he’d just stuck his tongue against his cheek, all mirthy, until she’d started to scream. Then he’d gagged her again.

So.

That was a failure.

The second the back of her throat meets the air, rather than the garbling cloth, the young woman starts screaming. Again. He’d kind of expected it. It’s a very lovely attempt, she’s quite loud, and all, but unfortunately, her efforts are sort of moot. That kind of thing tends to happen when you’re miles, and miles, and miles out in the open sea aboard a ship of men who work for the opposing team. Harry would clap if he wasn’t putting on a show of tucking a finger into his ear at her shrill cries. Eventually, he just watches her, letting her scream for a bit, and she holds seething eye contact as her help rises in pitch.

“Okay— alright,” Harry shakes his head, balling the cloth, daubed with her saliva, and shoving it past her lips haphazardly. She attempts to spit, but can only wriggle as he presses the rope back over her mouth like the task is effortless.

For a moment, neither of them say anything. The princess can’t. Harry tuts.

His tone carries notes of amusement when he tells her, “You’re quite pitchy. D’you know that?”

Seren stares him down.

“Have you got rocks in your head?” his lips nearly jolt up at the blunt nature of his own inquiry. They don’t. “I tell you not to scream,” he waves with an arm, “you scream anyways. I say, let’s try one more time, because— you know. Maybe you didn’t get the memo, the first time.”

The princess watches him talk, bemused. He gestures with his arm like a tired parent, stressed and lecturing a menacing, little child.

“And you yell again. So I’m wondering, have you got rocks in your head?”

Seren says nothing. She does wriggle in the restraints, like his question has insulted her enough to launch at him. But she stills when he squats ahead of her, once more, her heart hammering behind her ribcage.

“Who’s going to rescue you?” the pirate asks. It’s obviously rhetorical, and he knows she can comprehend that much. When the roll of her chest slows and she settles back, he can see it in her eyes that his point has left her crestfallen. His mouth quirks, and Harry presses again. “Who?”

When he knows that the message has sunk in, when she stares at the wall behind him, blankly, the only evidence of her consciousness being her glazed over gaze and the flare of her nostrils on every inhale, Harry sighs down at his palms and shakes his head.

“I’d just like a chat.”

Seren twists her head away. As much as the binding over her neck and face allows for, anyways. Harry tuts.

“So glum. You’re alive, aren’t you?” he cocks his head, voice low, “You’re not at the bottom of the sea. Not like your little boat.”

Those words hit a nerve, he can see it in the way she side-eyes him, the flame reignited, kindling in her scorching gaze. The pirate nods down at his hands, twisting a ring with a ruby red gem, like a shitty mockery of a moment of silence.

“It can’t possibly be comfortable, sitting with your mouth full, like that. And you must be thirsty, what with all that saltwater you were gargling,” he raises a shoulder, a coy reasoning to his speech.

Seren doesn’t want his stupid water. He’d probably poison her, have his way, and roll her off the ship, back into the raging waters he’d pulled her from. Harry blinks. She doesn’t offer an inkling to show that she’s willing to comply, but he stands and reaches for the rope, digging the pads of his fingers under the binding, over her cheek. His forefinger brushes the corner of her parted lips.

“Third time’s the charm.”

Though, he doesn’t sound the least bit convincing, not even to his own ears. He cradles the square of cloth between his fingertips and listens to her screams for a moment.

And then he startles her when he starts to harmonize with her screeching pleas. The first one is enough for her vocal chords to stutter, for her to jolt back in her seat, alarmed.

“HELP!” Harry calls, stretching the vowel outweighing her own scream in volume as the young woman’s own dies off, and the princess balks, startling in the ropes at the sound. He takes a pause for a deep breath, and screams again, “HELP!” banging on the wooden beams over the ceiling, bumping with his palm loudly, in an outrageous display that’s clearly meant to taunt. The sound of him striking it, alone, causes her to jump in her restraints.

He’s unhinged. Seren is convinced. Her spine straightens out like an arrow, and her shoulders square as she ogles the bizarre display, watching him strike over the ceiling, the walls, stamp the soles of his boots against the floorboards. After a second, he settles down. His hand is crooked against one of the beams overhead, and his gaze roves over her slowly. Purposefully. The corners of his mouth curl up sardonically.

“It’s not a very nice sound, is it?”

He’s deranged. His screws are loose, Seren decides, her eyes still wide as the racing pace of her heart settles in her chest — but any man who sinks ships for fun, in the open sea, who sails and pillages, and murders innocents with a hunger for riches, has screws loose. These aren’t insightful revelations. Maybe she’d just expected him to be less …bizarre, in their interrogation. He was going to get his answers out of her — they were his, they were going to be, and there’s no kidding about it — but the young woman is unsure of what answers he’s looking for or why. Why, why, why. Why did these pirates sink her boat? It was nothing but a small ferry in comparison to the opposing monster of a galleon. It wasn’t even a merchant ship, there were no riches to be stolen. Ironically, the pirate reaches a hand out, and Seren fidgets until his fingers clasp over her ruby pendant. He lifts it from her skin with prodding fingertips and a gaze of scrutiny.

She won’t give him answers, the princess decides. Whatever dialogue he may want from her, she won’t comply. She doesn’t know what he has in store for her lack of subservience, but she doesn’t care. She will not bend her will for this mangy brute.

“This is a pretty piece.”

Loose tendrils, clumped wetly, sway as she jerks her neck to tug the pendant from his grasp. She fails. His digits twitch and flex over the pendant, and the chain digs into the skin at the back of her neck with the faulty motion. The corners of his mouth quirk up as the princess makes an mmph.

That’s a pretty sound.

“M’not going to steal it. What kind of a man do you take me for? We’re good men here, on this ship,” the pirate declares, a sort of vehement passion to his statement, but the crook of his mouth says it’s an unlikely story.

So do the remnants of her boat, somewhere at the bottom of the sea, Seren thinks dryly. Maintaining eye contact, he lets the pendant settle back between her collarbones. It is a pretty piece, Harry wasn’t lying. Real gold, too — no princess would wear something less. But he’s got no need to pilfer it from her. Every molecule of her being, every cell, will pay out tenfold the cost of the necklace. It’s with that thought that he fixes the gag back into place and leaves her, trussed to that chair in the cabin.

“Ta,” the pirate bids in his slow roam towards the door, a glance aimed over his as he tucks his fingertips into the belt holstering his array of daggers, one handle bejeweled. The look he fixes her is sure, the kind that’s relaxed, but showcases that his word is final and will be the outcome. “Chat soon.”

Fun fact; being tied to a shoddy, little wooden chair for hours on end fucking blows. Especially when your hands are bound, in such a way where the rope weaves through the pegs of the back of the chair, keeping your joints wrung together tightly. It’s really aggravating to have a coarse rope, its weaving splintered with pinprick-y tufts, stuck up over your cheeks to hold some sordid rag in place between your teeth.

It’s safe to say that the experience is not one of Seren’s most favorite past-times. She’s not sure how much time has passed before that heavy wooden door creaks open on its hinges, again. Only a few hours, it must be. The crack of a window behind her hasn’t broken with nightfall, though the light cast through its opening has dimmed, if only a little.

It’s the same pirate as before. All glimmery jade and the bare vale of tanned skin from the unbuttoned sector of his shirt, where she makes out a faint dusting of chest hair, between his pecs.

The princess is still a gorgeous view, in Harry’s opinion. Her thighs are still splayed, but her cream dress has dried some, now, and so has her hair. It’s wild, mussed and frizzy. A half-soaked clump rests over one of her eyes.

“Hello to you, too, darling,” he says in response to the glare she fastens him with through the one that’s visible, like instant daggers. The corners of his mouth crook. He ambles toward her with a steel cup of …something. Something mysterious, something unknown, something she eyes warily up until the point where he’s towering over her. The young woman tears her gaze away, casting it up to his handsome face, instead.

He pries and tucks his digits up under the rope that’s settled over her cheeks and drawn ruddy hues, but he pauses before he pulls it down.

“Y’gonna get loud?”

Seren doesn’t say anything. In fact, she sort of can’t, which is quite nice, Harry thinks, but she doesn’t even make a garbled sound to appease or amuse him. The captain is thankful for what little fragments of peace he’s been granted before he’s forced to endure her ludicrously grating screeching. He weighs his options for a moment, but ultimately, tugs.

Of course, the second he’s pulled the cloth out, the young woman is screaming, of-fucking-course she’s screaming. And at this point, it’s so obviously a ploy to irritate him, and Harry would laugh if the whole display wasn’t so vexing. There’s a tick in his jaw when he sets the lip of the tin cup to her parted, strawberry mouth, roughly — and he wouldn’t be so rough if she wasn’t so fucking loud — and tips. Instantly, that shout is garbled by liquid. It morphs into a cough and a much more tolerable string of sputters, as water leaks over and drenches down her chin, her chest, the front of her dress.

“There we go,” the pirate says, the smooth baritone of his cadence louder over the fit of her coughing, “Attagirl. That’s much better.”

He doesn’t tip more of the beverage into her mouth — a ransom on a princess who’s drowned in her own lungs is worth virtually nothing — and lets her cough and sputter a little longer. She strings together a sequence of breaths he deems good enough, before he smushes the rim of the metal cup back against her bottom lip.

“Drink,” Harry advises and nudges the tin back in a way, again, so that the liquid sloshes and spills out into her open mouth.

This time, she doesn’t cough. She expects it, the water. The princess affixes her top lip lower to siphon the beverage and takes a few swallows. Harry watches her throat bob, and he watches a little rivulet escape, too, dribbling down the corner of her mouth in a little streak. It drips down her chin, down her neck. His pupils follow the trail. He gives her a little break part-way, once the tin is close to empty and her neck is craned back with the swallows. He draws it away. Good. That was good, nice and easy. As easy as it could be, given the circumstances.

Except she fixes him with this horrible glare, again, as he pulls the cup away. This glare that speaks volumes, this glower that should warn him of his error before he lets it happen. Harry doesn’t catch the drift. Only a glimpse of her cheeks puffing before she puckers her lips and spits the remnants at him, coating the bottom-most half of his linen with a mist of the water. His belt too, and a bit of his trousers.

And then her mouth is empty and she’s just scowling at him, head tipped down in a way so that the chunk of her frizzy tendrils settles back over an eye. Harry doesn’t waste a second before angling the cup, miffed, and flinging what little water is left in the cup right back in her face.

And the way her eyes screw shut, the way her lips fall open in silent appall the second he returns the energy, (except, he’s far more polite, in his humble opinion. He doesn’t spit at her like an improper animal), when she’s doused in the chilled liquid, and it coats the face-framing layers of her hair, her lashes, and drips down her chin — that’s the highlight of his day.

He doesn’t instantly fix the gag back into her mouth, or slip the rope back over her irritated skin. He watches her, his jaw set, and when the young woman opens her eyes, she sees that storm brewing, manifesting — the kind she’d only imagined prior, in the flinty green of his irises. Like he’s harnessing his own composure. But then he takes a step back, and just. Leans against the closed door. Like he’s scoping her with his gaze. Like she’s just this shiny thing for his sight to pore over.

And Seren thinks that feels worse than if she were to face the bite of his skin against her own, the swat of his palm against her cheek. She’d rather that, honestly.

Her skin is cold from the water. She’s still sort of reeling that he’d done that, to begin with. He’s drumming the pads of his fingers against his bicep, over the nearly-sheer, cream sleeve of his shirt when he asks, a serious note of authority to the molasses of his speech, “Do you know who I am?”

Seren curbs parroting the question wryly. As much as she’d love to tell him her father will torch the ship he rides upon and hang every member of his crew, him and his stupid fucking dimples included, she’s sure that all she’ll receive in response is a grating twitch of his pink mouth.

“Hm?” he prods, making a show of cupping a palm behind his ear and steering his torso forward a smidge, half-expecting her response to be a series of shrill cries, for the hell of it.

Her answer is not one he expects. Frankly, the man doesn’t expect an intelligible response, the history of her opting for incoherent shouts, considered. But she speaks, afterall. It’s soft in decibel, feminine, and pleasant — her voice, unlike the aimless yelling he’d become accustomed to. Even still, it carries that undeniable note of derision.

Seren tells him, “Someone …terribly disturbed.”

Harry almost can’t help the way his cushiony mouth quirks.

Almost.

“Disturbed?” he scoffs, sardonically mirthy, “She spits at me like a fucking …filthy animal, and I’m disturbed. Aye, I’m disturbed.”

The princess makes daggers with the gaze she sends in his direction. He lets her simmer in the wake of the light insult, for a moment, just drumming over his bicep, his mouth twitching in a kind of way that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I’m the captain of this ship,” Harry supplies softly, jade narrowed.

There’s a twitch to her face then, something that slots by and withers in the blink of an eye. Something like recognition. And, fucking finally, Harry thinks — he can practically hear the angels croon at the crumbs of reception, from her, to his authority.

“That means,” he motions out with the cup, his other arm still crossed, fingers wrapped about his waist now, “I’m in charge.”

His voice is soft-spoken, a croon that spells it out for her, if she hasn’t already caught the drift.

“I’m in charge of this ship. This crew,” he takes a step forward, ducking his chin as his eyebrows tip up a bit, “And you. And that means I’m in charge of what happens to you. So don’t you think it’s in your best interest to behave?”

If he expects her to bow down and kiss the toes of his scuffed boots, the young woman doesn’t bite the bait.

“You’re nothing but a mangy sea brute,” Seren declares, then, her chin held audaciously high, despite the ropes binding over her breasts and the foreboding ocean that sways beyond, with ravenous threat. He could lug her off onto the deck and chuck her off the plank, tied just like this.

He doesn’t.

He just stays leant against the wall, arms crossed over his bare chest.

“Mangy sea brutes,” the pirate weighs her words, nodding slowly as he purses his lips in deliberation. And then his brows pinch together, “that’s quite insulting, actually. I take pride in my appearance, I’ll have you know.”

“Mangy,” the young woman confirms, venom in her tone.

The pirate props himself up and off, taking a languid step, each syllable of his cadence laced with condescension, “Now, rugged—“ and open mouthed smirk, a nudge with his chin, “I’ll accept. You don’t think I spend time in front of the mirror, darling? Mangy. What a rude word. I wasn’t aware that Siren, Princess of Essex was so abrasive.”

There’s a flicker of something in her eyes when they flash to him — something like sharp surprise, mottled with pique. Like she didn’t expect him to know who exactly he was harboring upon his ship. The corners of his mouth crook. She’s seemingly appalled that he’s done his research. The glint of shock is gone, as soon as it shows itself.

“Oh,” the captain takes a slow step forward in this sort of way, as if his body language is entirely meant to taunt her, hand in hand with his tongue, “I see. You thought I didn’t know who you were. Just some nameless, pretty little thing on my ship.”

It’s a purposeful dig — the mispronunciation of her name. It’s only a vowel off, it could be chalked up to simple error, but it’s blatantly to mock her. Really, it’s a funny little dub since she enjoys spending so much screeching like the nuisance of a blaring alarm that just won’t shut off. It’s meant to demean her, to belittle her, because not even her name, blue-blooded and all, is worth correct pronunciation. That’s what she seems to hone on from the whole revelation, Harry finds.

“Seren,” she corrects with bite, that same glower she’d worn prior reincarnated.

The man takes another step. He cups behind his ear, and Seren promises herself that the moment she’s freed, she’ll personally chop off his stupid fucking ear for all the times he’d cupped behind that shell of it that way, so condescending. “What was that?”

“Seren,” the young woman scowls, “Seren, Princess of Essex.”

He pauses, a cinch in his brows with this patronizing nod, like he’s weighing her correction, and then he tells her, motioning with an arm as the cinch relaxes, “Siren, Seren. Tomato, tomato.”

He motions with his palm nonchalantly. She wants to bite at his fingers. She doesn’t.

“How dare you?” the young woman says instead.

Harry’s mouth quirks. How dare he? What a pompous inquiry, molded by prissy lips.

“How dare I?” the pirate repeats, and then just lifts his shoulder in a casually apathetic shrug. He takes a third step forward, raspberry lips smug and curled, “I just… dare.”

And before the princess can voice her obnoxious protest, he shoves the cloth into her mouth and tugs up the rope, plucking a garbled sound of anger from her in the process.

The silence is wonderful.

By the time Harry returns to her for the third time, it’s well past nightfall. Light stops leaking from the crack of the window. Seren watches the shift, the way it rolls as the hours tick by, in the room. It morphs from behind her, its bright gold slipping into a darker orange, mottled with pink, and then dimmer, and dimmer, and dimmer, as minutes leak away, until all that’s left is dusk and the glow of the moonlight.

The door creaks. She almost doesn’t see it, but she hears the pad of his boots over the wood and twists her neck to catch the sight of his legs as he steps through the threshold.

“Honey, I’m home,” the pirate calls.

Her eyes strain their sockets to catch the moonlight cresting off his cheekbones as his head dips, the dimpling that rises awake beside the corners of his mouth as they turn up at his own jest. He’s holding something. The captain winds around her, through the coat of darkness, and settles somewhere she can’t see. A thump, like something being set onto a table. Then, soft breaths fill the void of the silence. A strike of a match. Her eyes are forced to adjust to a warm, buttery glow as the little beam of fire, merged to a lantern, and then another, sends gold bouncing wall to wall.

That’s when Harry sees that she's managed to make a home for herself on the floor, the chair she’s been restrained to tipped on its side. He almost doesn’t think anything of it, for a split second, but then, as the pads of his digits work buttons through their slits to disrobe, the pirate casts his gaze up for a double take. A twisted coil of satisfaction blooms in his chest as he observes her, the thought that whatever faulty maneuver she’d made to escape had resulted in this, and, well. That makes something joyful and mean bud.

Seren listens to his boots, the step of them slow against the floorboards, until she sees him towering over her, in her peripherals. Her pupils shift.

“Comfortable?” his brows climb with emphasis. The work of his fingertips over the buttons on his shirt are sluggish. Tired. She notes that motion, too — that fact that he’s actively shedding clothes. Nonchalantly. And it must show in her eyes, then. Something vulnerable, something uncomfortable, something raw, and petrified, because, yeah, she’s a petulant, little princess strapped to a chair in his cabin, against her will, and she fights him tooth and nail in every instance that he comes to visit her. But she’s a princess strapped to a chair, against her will, and it’s nightfall, and his skin is growing more bare, square inch by square inch, as the seconds pass.

He must note that — whatever that shows, because the quirk of his priorly mirthy, strawberry mouth slips a tad. And then his features shape something relaxed. Something tired, again. Like he’s too worn.

The sarky comment has those same traces of exhaustion seeping into it as his dismissive gaze disengages, honing on the work of his digits as he loops the final button through, “Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. You’re not my type.”

The cloth slips apart, showcasing more skin. A line of hair from below his belly button, in soft, dark wisps that melts off behind his belt. Sturdy muscles of his abdomen that ripple as he moves, chin ducked—

His palms cup over the belt of holsters, and that clinks as he discards it, too, winding around to, she assumes, set it somewhere. And then, more skin to pore over when he returns, the sharp cut of a V, decorated with laurels, emphasized by the low hang of his trousers. He cocks his head down at her, like he’s contemplating. Contemplating what, Seren’s unsure. He moves out of her line of sight again.

Her arm aches. She’d tipped over onto it what felt like hours ago, and it’d taken the brunt of the fall, lodged against the side of the chair with the situation of her joints being married in the bindings, behind her. She’d managed to roll forward on her shoulder, just a tad, so that the press against it wasn’t constant, but it still fucking hurt. Her palms, down to the tips of her digits, were numb, she had this heinous crick in her neck, and she’s sure that the moment she’s able to stand her tailbone will hurt like hell. If she’s ever allowed to stand again. Maybe he’ll hurl her into the open ocean, strapped to this godforsaken chair, afterall.

For now, he just hauls her up. His touch — warm — skims the opposite arm before his palm wraps over the beam over the back of the chair and tugs, leveling her with ease. The young woman squeaks against the gag as she hovers, terrified to drop straight onto the limb again. She doesn’t. The pirate sets her straight with a tired grunt. His sight scales her arm, the one she’d toppled onto, and Seren can’t see, but she assumes it’s not in the most pristine condition. And then his touch smooths over the ache, a crease over his brow bone as his eyes pry, and she bristles.

His mouth twitches, but it’s tired. Tired after having to deal with her, tired from whatever he’d spent his time doing beyond the cabin. Tired after sinking her ship and taking her hostage, Seren thinks bitterly. How exhausting. And Harry takes his hand away.

From her new, upright view, she can see that little metal cup — the same one he’d brought her hours earlier. He’s set it onto the table, and she knows it wasn’t there before, which means he’s brought it with new water. Seren turns her head to face it. It’s the most she can manage given that she can’t tell him what she wants, what with the gag and all.

“Thirsty?” he notes, chin over his shoulder in her direction as he shimmies the sleeves of his shirt off. Seren eyes the expanse of naked skin as it expands, from cuts of muscle to ink sunk into the flesh of his arm. Certainly, if she wasn’t before.

The princess doesn’t answer. She can’t, and she’s not going to resort to a string of pathetic hums to get his attention. The captain sets his shirt onto the table in a pile of disarray, beside his belt, and takes the cup. When he makes his way over to her, Seren’s eyes don’t follow his figure. And for a moment, there’s only a deliberative sort of silence. She doesn’t look until he talks, until his tone is far more serious than she’s heard thus far.

“If you spit it at me again, I will personally make sure you lick it back up, off the floorboards.”

And wisely, she doesn’t spit the liquid back up at him when he tugs the gag free and tips the rim of the cup against her mouth. Seren doesn’t doubt he’s the type of man to follow through on his words. But that’s not why she drinks — she drinks because she’s fucking thirsty. Her tongue’s gone dry, and the back of her throat pinpricks with an uncomfortable soreness, and because the lukewarm liquid feels good spilling down her throat. She cranes her neck back, throat bobbing, and doesn’t stop until he’s pulled the cup away himself, and a little rivulet of water dribbles down the corner of her mouth. She takes a big gulp of air and expels it.

And then, with angry sorts of eyes, the princess declares, “I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry,” the pirate mirrors, but it’s only wryly amused — his tired, sardonic smile doesn’t reach his eyes, and he sets the cup back onto the table with little urgency to get her food. “We don’t offer room service.”

“You haven’t fed me once today,” Seren declares indignantly when he winds behind her, out of sight. And then there’s a sigh and a creak, the kind that seeps from mattress springs compressing. “This is— this is cruel, I’ll have you know. This is torture, this is—“

“Thank you for your honest review, we’ll make sure to take your feedback into account,” Harry chimes at her in true, facetious fashion, scrubbing over his eyes with a palm as he knees his way onto the bed. And then the pirate tells her, with a more serious note to his drawl, before she has a chance to interject with another complaint, “If you’re going to talk all night, I’m going to put your gag back in until the morning.”

Seren doesn’t say anything. Finally, she doesn’t say anything at all, and it’s splendid. It’s peace and quiet, and all he hears, for a perfect moment, is the creak of the wood and the subdued roar of the waves.

“I don’t want to stare at the wall,” the princess speaks, eventually, like a petulant child. “Why am I staring at the wall?”

“Because …that’s the way the chair’s facing,” Harry responds, matter-of-factly and almost instantly, sure that a note of irritation has managed to teem into the words despite his best efforts. He will not let her know that her efforts of poking are chipping at his composure, he won’t.

And for another moment, Seren doesn’t say anything. He lets his eyes drift shut.

“I want to face you,” the princess says, eventually, and her tone implies she’s taken the bridge of silence to build the phrase up into something more demanding, something royal and authoritative. If he wasn’t so fucking tired he’d laugh.

“You want to watch me sleeping?” she hears the pirate from behind her, his honey-smooth drawl grown raspy and lower from, seemingly, exhaustion, “That’s an odd request.”

Her brows furrow as a scowl paints her mouth. The bed creaks in the gap of quiet. Every hair stands on end when, suddenly, he’s inches from her, his presence looming and warm from behind, with calloused fingertips brushing the side of her neck in their venture towards that godforsaken gag.

“Just turn me!” Seren shrieks, “Just turn me, and I’ll be quiet!”

He doesn’t put the gag in. He winds around her, hand still on the rope, his features shaped with apathetic seriousness, “If I turn you because you want me to turn you, what good am I at putting my foot down? Hm?”

Seren blinks up at him.

“Please,” the princess tells him, hushed and earnest, “I don’t feel …safe.”

His brows twitch. There’s something that blooms in the jade at her admission, but it flits by, gone as quickly as it’d appeared. And then his brows furrow, and he looks absolutely exasperated, the subtle downturn at the edges of his mouth emphasized with the roll of that same jade. The pirate scoffs, and his boots stomp over the wood, each step an inclination that his frustration has leaked into his body language.

“I told you—“ the legs of the chair screech against the floorboards — he doesn’t even grunt as he maneuvers her with ease, the motion rough like it’s a chore, “—that you’re not my type. Not everybody wants to fuck you, your highness.”

Seren blinks, pupils poring over the priorly unseen sight of the opposite end of the room. A slit of a window, brushing the edge of the wall that merges into the ceiling. A bookshelf of literature and knickknacks. A dresser, a queen-sized mattress on the floor. The pirate still looks absolutely miffed when he walks toward the table with the lantern, bare shoulders squared and the muscles in his back rippling. He sets the light out, kicks off his boots, and falls into the bed unceremoniously.

It’s a victory.

And for a moment, Seren thinks he’s just going to wordlessly roll over to avoid her prying gaze. He doesn’t do that. They bask in the crash of the waves outside, the darkness, and their quiet breaths. He’s got this knack — Seren’s learned. This skill of morphing from sarcastic and teasing to broodingly serious, and it’s mercurial, sort of. She wonders if this brooding side’s what’s brought him to lead an entire ship.

“Be quiet now,” the pirate drawls from the sheets, in that broodingly serious cadence, “If I hear another word, I’ll personally carry you out onto the deck, and you can sleep in the chair out there.”

The man rolls over to face the wall. Seren doesn’t say another word for the rest of the night.

#pirate!harry #pirate au #piraterry #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry styles writing #harry styles x oc #dom harry styles #harry styles #harry styles dirty fanfiction #enemies to lovers #harry styles enemies to lovers

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mtchee · 5 months ago

Text

Bubbles Along the Surface - [Zhongli] GN

blurb:

A minor god awakened years after the Archon War, and with your brother, Osial, pinned to the depths below, you've made your own way in the world. In the most recent year, sailing with a merchant crew, you've forever decided to conceal your identity as a god, keeping to the life of a mortal with an intense fascination with the land of Geo. In all your years, its only now you have the chance to finally step foot in Liyue, meeting a tall and handsome man who eventually comes to be your beloved--but not without a few misunderstandings.

cw: not edited, fluff, minor angst, second-person-pov, spoilers for liyue playthrough but nothing major, osial is [name]'s older brother, archon siblings fr, zhongli loving on you, a reassuring zhongli, feat. childe but really he only gets like four lines

| masterlist | genshin impact collection |

[8.2k]

Eons ago, after the Archon war, arose a young archon hidden in a dreamless sleep beneath oceanic depths, protecting them from the catastrophe above. Awoken by the change in currents, they rose to the water's surface whilst their elder brother was pinned to the crust below—for they was the beloved sibling of the God of Vortex, Osial.

Their own title, God of Bubbles, and it was they whom were responsible for the health of marine life and the ocean oxidation.

While their followers had either converted or were wiped out in the war, they retreated from their title as an Archon, knowing it would only get them into trouble with the rising seven who battled for their rightful seats in ruling Teyvat.

Though their stories never died.

Sheltered due to the war and then lost without their big brother, they began a new life as a merchant, sailing the high seas and traversing from nation to nation. Although the world had changed from what they had originally thought, they were open minded and of a bright spirit—and couldn't wait to explore.

"To Liyue we sail!" The captain called, a rugged but sweet man who practically adopted you, "they've new silks due for Inazuma on the second moon, if we get there early enough we can rest on some solid ground for a while. Lets give ourselves a holiday, ay?"

The rest of the crew cheered back ecstatically, having been docked in Schneznaya for more than long enough. They could use a change of scenery; most weren't built for this kind of cold.

You laughed at their eagerness, quickly aiding your mates in loading on the last few crates of supplies before the ship was to set off once more.

You made sure your route was clear of storm—well, as much as you could. Your power's influence was better equipped for the water's depths, not its surface.

But you made do.

"Excited, love?" Darla, a Fontaine merchant about ten years your senior (physically at least) approached, a wide and knowing grin on her face, "you've always wanted to go to Liyue, haven't you?"

You grin back, eyes closed as you giggle sheepishly, "You've heard all my rambles, haven't you? Of course I am! And we get to stay there for... how long? Oh! Almost two moons! Two moons! Darla, that's two months of exploring! I've always wanted to visit the adepti shrines..."

"Of course you have," The older woman rolls her eyes playfully, gently bumping into your hip, "calm yourself, dear. We don't want you to combust."

You laugh at her in good nature.

"How come we're staying so long anyway? Not that I'm complaining."

"Why do you think?" Darla gives you an incredulous look, "because you're the captain's pearl, that's why. He's always had a soft spot for you," she nods her head towards the old man by the wheel, "not that the rest of us mind. Gives us a break too."

They watch as while the evening prevails, the ship's leader bounds below deck despite his age and practically hauls up a barrel of drinks for the mates to share, letting out a bellowing laugh all the whilst.

You snort, "Mm, I see what you mean."

After a week or so of smooth sailing, you finally port in Liyue Harbour and settle yourselves at the available inns, unloading any personal cargo and clearing the ship for its future stocks.

The Portside is bustling with life, fishermen promoting their fresh produce and other sailors maintaining their boats. Your eyes are wide in awe at the architecture and vivacity, excitement only continuing to build within you.

"Oh, pa!" You eagerly turn to your father figure with pleading eyes, "the city's just past the docks, may I please—?"

"Just be back before dark, alright?" The captain huffs out with feigned exasperation, "some of the crew and I will be hangin' around the plaza for a bit. Some place called Third around Knockout? I dunno..."

He scratches the back of his head before letting out a puff of air as you launch yourself at him, arms latched tightly around his torso in a hug.

His once narrowed eyes widen while the colour pink tints his sun kissed cheeks, "O-Oi!"

"Thank you, pa!" You pull back with a gleeful smile, "I'll be back soon, I promise!"

You lean up and places a chaste kiss on his frizzy cheek before rushing off past the docks.

The male stammers as some of the crew snicker at him from behind, teasing him for putting up his so called 'cold exterior'.

"Yeah yeah... uh, b-be safe!" He calls out at last. He quickly whips around to those laughing, "who're you chucklin' at, huh? hUh?!"

Eager to explore, you find yourself in the middle of the plaza ahead of your crew and are immediately overwhelmed by the smell of food and a rush of people.

You can't help but grin at the sight.

You wander past the open shops and stalls, simply admiring the sights and everything the locals of Liyue had to offer. You feel your heart swell at the kindness of a sweet granny who ran a toy stall, the elder woman giving you a colourful paper windmill with the only explanation being that you had a beautiful smile.

You express your gratitude and wish for her good health before continuing onwards with more of a skip in her step, gift clutched to you closely.

In the midst of your exploration, you bump into a tall man, profusely apologising as you stumble for your balance, toy falling to the floor.

"Ah, no sweat!" The male replies, and you look up to meet deep blue orbs and a boyish grin. The ginger haired stranger leans down to pick up your fallen gift, handing it back to you whilst introducing himself as Childe.

"[name]," You reply politely, shaking his hand with a bright smile, "it's a pleasure! Uh, a-apologies for the collision..."

At your sheepish expression, the male only chuckles and waves it off, a certain glint appearing in his eyes at the mention of your name.

"You're not from around here, are you?" He tilts his head curiously.

"Oh, no, heh, I'm a—" You stop yourself momentarily, clearing your throat, "I'm a foreigner. I work as a merchant across the waters."

"I see, I see," His gaze grows half lidded, flickering to the glowless hydro vision by your waist, "you like the ocean?" His curiosity peaks as he notices you perk up immediately.

"Yes! Indeed, aha, it's practically my life."

He gives you a nod of understanding, and you indulge yourself in idle chatter before parting ways, the male heading towards the crimson stairs leading to the balconies above. It's then that you realise where you are.

Not in the plaza, that's for sure.

Finding yourself lost, you take note of the increasingly darkening sky, "Oh dear..." your stomach drops.

Your eyes dart around hurriedly in hopes of landing on something familiar, spinning around in a circle and only managing to loose hope.

Your chest tightens as the sun finally dips past the horizon, and you cuss quietly under your breath. Your knuckles grip the stem of the paper windmill closely, the toy being your only sense of comfort.

"Excuse me," A deep voice adresses you from behind and you jump.

You whirl around, wide eyes meeting the chest of the individual talking to you.

Wary gaze trailing upwards, you come into contact with almost luminescent amber isises, and a concerned frown.

"Are you alright? You seem rather... distressed."

You take in a sharp breath, eyes flickering—the man is breathtaking.

He is tall and of a strong physique, with wide shoulders and a toned, but slimmed waist. His clothes are dark, although intricate and rich with black and brown to gold features.

His hair is long at the back, tied neatly in a low tail whilst the front frames his eyes in curt strands.

You blink, "Oh, yes. I—uh, ahem. I-I'm not from here, you see? And, um, I appear to have found myself a bit lost..." you can't help but feel small under his stony gaze, hearing him hum lowly in response.

"I see. From where do you hail?"

"Oh, I'm a travelling merchant. I docked today with my crew and told pa—uh, m-my captain that I would be back before dark, but..."

"Ah, I understand," The male's stern features seem to melt ever so slightly at your stammer, and he gives you a small smile to ease your nerves, "do you recall where you are suppose to be?"

"Somewhere called Third Round Knockout, I believe."

You give him a sheepish grin in return, toy clutched close. The stranger's eyes lighten in recognition of the name.

"A place I frequent in my days of rest. If you would like, may I escort you to your destination?"

"Really?" You brighten hopefully as he offers you his arm, "you wouldn't mind? Thank you, sir!"

"Zhongli," He states as you link your arm with his, "you may refer to me as Zhongli."

He smiles at you softly, causing you to flush, and begins leading you back towards the plaza.

"Mister Zhongli! Mister Zhongli!" You wave him down excitedly, the male breathing out a chuckle at the notion.

Throughout the following months, the two of you had bumped into each other once more and became well acquainted, soon becoming friends as you met up frequently.

The geo user became acutely aware of his new found friend's fascination with Liyue and was more than happy to show you around and tell you the many tales of said nation.

You got to know each other well within your first visit, you having been rather disheartened when the time came for you and your crew to leave--though the man had assured you that when you next returned, he would still be waiting.

"[name]," He greets with a gentle smile, opening his arms as you gleefully jumps into them, "how have you been fairing?"

"Good," You reply curtly, smiling up at him, "but better now that I'm here."

You laugh when he shake his head at you, "What about you? Are you okay?"

Zhongli tilts his head slightly with a confused hum, "I heard about the Archon's passing, news of it has already reached Fontaine although it was a few days ago. Are you alright?"

"Oh, that, yes," Zhongli clears his throat and composes himself, "indeed, it is tragic. However, I believe the Qixing has everything under control."

"I suppose. Something doesn't... feel right though..."

He leans forwards in interest, a certain glint in his eyes at your words.

"Oh? How so?"

"I'm not sure, I just feel as though Morax—uh," You glance at him momentarily, catching yourself before you blurt out something controversial.

As an Archon yourself, you swore you could still sense the presence of Liyue's God; though you doubt herself, chalking it up to the fact that you were an inexperienced Archon, simply sensing the ramenants of his power.

"N-nothing. It just feels, odd? Someone having the ability to murder a God, and the Geo Archon no less... Um, anyway..."

Zhongli hums, the glint in his eyes ever so prominent, "I understand what you are inferring. In any case, it will be a long time before any such revelations come to fruition."

He takes note of your nerves, watching as you squeeze your left hand nervously and swiftly changes the subject to ease your discomfort.

You traverse towards Yujing Terrace, where Zhongli breaks any silence by running his mouth on about the flowers maintained in the gardens.

"A dear friend of mine, Madame Ping maintains the flora."

"Really?" You hum, "what kind of silk flowers does she grow?"

"All three variations I believe," The man goes on to continue but is interrupted by a high pitched and child-like voice from afar.

"Mister Zhongliiiiiii!"

The duo pause and turn towards the sound, you tilting your head at the sight of a frantically waving, floating mushroom fairy child and a boy.

The unknown blond makes no attempts to hush his companion, simply shaking his head at her loudness before approaching.

Glancing to the side, you notice Zhongli's ease in their presence and calm yourself.

"Ah, Aether, Paimon, hello," He greets with a nod, "what brings you two here?"

"Oh, we were just about to meet Ms. Ningguang! We've got a special invitation to head up to the Jade Chamber!" The mushroom fairy child—Paimon—explains proudly.

"Oh? Impressive, indeed." Zhongli humours her kindly.

"Sorry, did Paimon disturb you?" The blond—Aether—asks, ignoring his companion's offended 'hey!'.

"Not at all," You give the two a smile, "don't worry about it. Zhongli was just going to show me around Yujing Terrace."

Your companion nods, "Aether, Paimon, this is [name]. A dear friend of mine."

"[name]?" Paimon blinks, "you mean like the—"

Zhongli clears his throat, "Anyhow, I suppose the Qixing won't be too fond of waiting. I take it you are prepared?"

Sharing a peculiar look with Aether, the two communicate silently.

"Right!" The blond scratches the back of his head, "we've just picked up a gift for Lady Ningguang. Hopefully it's good enough."

"I'm sure she'll enjoy it." The taller assures.

Paimon huffs and stomps in the air, "Hey! Why are you interrupting—"

"Anyway, we'll see you later then! It was nice meeting you, Mx. [name]!" Aether grins at you and waves before bolting off, leaving his companion dazed.

"I—uh, whaaa? Heyyy! Wait for me!" The floating mushroom fairy is quick to fly after him, the two fading from sight.

You laugh, mildly confusde, "Well, they're an interesting pair."

The male beside you releases the breath he was quietly holding, chuckling softly, "Yes, indeed they are. Now, where were we? Ah, yes, about the silk flowers..."

"[name]?"

You perk up at the sound of your name, peering up from behind the stock of open crates you had been counting.

"Oh, Zhongli!" You brighten immediately, hopping over the boxes to reach him.

"Hi! What are you doing here? I thought you had work today?"

Despite your concern, you give him a grateful smile, a familiar warmth creeping up your neck.

The man smiles at you contently.

"I took a small break earlier than usual, though my boss doesn't mind."

He internally winces and fights back a flush of embarrassment when recalling Hu Tao's thorough interrogation for the sudden departure.

He wasn't in any trouble for doing so, no—but once Hu Tao found out it was to see someone outside of work, oh boy...

"Ah, anyhow," he clears his throat, "I... wanted to ask you something, and I suppose I just couldn't wait any longer."

Your interest peaks. Unfortunately, so too does some of your crew mates--a few of them slowing in their work to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Zhongli takes in a breath, "I was hoping to be able to treat you to dinner tonight, if you would be interested?"

His amber eyes meet yours with a hopeful glaze. Despite his outward composure, he could feel his nerves skyrocketing once he took note of their minor audience.

Your eyes widen and you bite back a squeak.

Is this even real? Or are you just assuming things? Oh, you could feel the excitement bursting within you—wait, but you're an Archon... oh gods you forgot about that. Ugh, but he's so—

"[name]?"

You snap out of your thoughts, embarrassment flooding you.

You quickly blurt out, "Yes! I-I mean, uh," you straighten yourself up as to not seem so flustered, "sure, ahem. Um... a-are you...?"

Zhongli let's out a subtle sigh of relief, closing his eyes as he allows a ginger smile to grace his lips.

"Yes, [name]. If you would, may I take your hand in courting?"

Oh.

OH SHI-

You tense and fight to push down an unholy squeal, mind racing. You could feel your mouth go dry the moment he reopened his eyes and made contact with yours.

You only manage to give him another giddy smile, nodding shyly with sore cheeks. Zhongli chuckles at you, taking a step closer and gently grasping your dominant hand in both of his.

"Then, I will see you tonight by the stairs of Yujin Terrace. Do not fret, my dear, you are perfect as always."

He brings your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss upon its skin whilst maintaining eye contact.

He gives you one last charming smile before stepping away and leaving the harbour, ignoring the light blush coating his cheeks.

Later that day, as the sun kisses the horizon, you make your way from the inn and towards Yujing Terrace.

The night life in the plaza is bustling, the noise and chatter growing faint as you move farther from the docks.

Well into the city and past Luili Pavilion, the moonlight glinting across the shallow water catches your eye.

You slow and stop for a moment to peer into the pool, smiling softly as the golden bass and koi curl towards you. You glimpse a shadow passes from behind.

You giggle softly and, with a wave of your hand, summon gentle currents beneath the water's surface to play with the fish.

While the bass laze and let the gentle currents drag them along, the koi play along with the hidden tides, weaving in and out of the streams.

"Ah, there you are."

With a gasp and a jolt, you drop your hand to your side and step away from the waters edge.

"My apologies, [name]," Zhongli chuckles light heartedly, "I did not mean to frighten you."

"No! Not at all, aha," You quickly smooth any secret crinkles in your clothing and give your suitor a sheepish smile, heart racing in mild panic, "j-just nervous, I guess."

"Nervous?" The male quirks up a brow, "do I make you nervous, my dear?" Though his eyes--sharp as always--watch you attentively, the cheeky glint and subtle smile gives him away.

Stumbling over your tongue, you simply sigh and give him a pleading look, warmth creeping up behind your ears. Zhongli just smiles at you before offering you his arm; henceforth, commencing your date.

As evening turns into night, the moon rises higher and higher into the darkening sky with the two of you remaining arm in arm.

You find yourselves at the very top of the Terrace, where the annual Rite of Descension would have taken place.

Overlooking the sea of clouds*, you lean yourself against the railing, sighing softly as you gaze down at the waters fondly. Zhongli remains behind for a moment, watching you and getting lost in his thoughts before finally approaching.

He leans down beside you, facing the ocean although his attention is drawn to your being.

"[name]?"

You hum in response.

"May I... tell you something?"

Your attention peaks at his hesitancy, and you turn towards him curiously.

Zhongli keeps his glowing eyes out on the ocean.

"What I am about to say must remain secret between us. It is something that only a select few know," His gaze never wavers, "and I hope it changes very little, if it changes anything at all, between us."

Your brows furrow slightly, and you give his profil a soft smile, tilting your head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

Zhongli takes in a breath, "You know my name, correct?"

Your frown deepends, "Zhongli?"

The male nods slowly, "Indeed. Although, prior to this name, I used to go by many others—the most famous of which is one, revered, throughout all of Liyue."

You lean towards him in your puzzlement, and it is only then that he looks at you.

"My name, is Rex Lapis."

He doesn't blink, and your heart stops.

You can't breathe.

Disbelieving of your own ears, you search his gaze for any sign of deceit.

Alas, he remains firm.

His sharp amber irises seem to glow in the low light, glinting beneath the moon.

You swallow nervously and take in an uneven breath, a single word passing through your lips.

"...Morax."

Dread fills your entire being, and fear overturns your heart.

Why would he tell you this?

Why would he tell you now?

Why should he have ever told you? You don't just say that you're a dead archon to your friends—

You feel deathly cold all of a sudden.

He knows.

All tension in your being drops into the weight of lead as the entirety of Teyvat comes to a halt.

He knows.

He knows who you are, he knows you're a God, he knows all about you.

And for how long?

You feel sick to your stomach, and so you take a step back.

Seeing you fumble and your dreadful silence, Zhongli's firm gaze softens. He sighs quietly through his nose and moves towards you as he speaks.

"[name]—"

"Please."

He stops, face falling at the amount of fear in your eyes. He sees the unwavering fright in your very being.

The horrors of the war echo in your memories--whereby from stories or the experience of its aftermath.

Unadultered terror regarding your ultimate death as an archon sits like cement in your bone and tissue.

Zhongli watches, and you don't dare to breathe.

This wasn't how it was suppose to go.

He steps towards you again, but you fear to step back.

"Please don't."

Your voice wavers, almost a whisper.

It takes every fibre of your being not to retreat in immediate terror. But you know the power of a God, even if they no longer claim the title.

Zhongli's heart clenches, eyes widening as his mind begin to race once he notices your form trembling.

Though your hands were tense and nearly hidden by your sides, he could see their tight tremors. Barely glancing off to the side, he could see ripples surfacing from beneath the shallow pools of water decorating the Terrace.

They slowly grew bigger, and began to bubble.

"[name]... My dear, please. Calm yourself—"

"D-Don't!" Your voice barely raises, though your fear and desperation are apparent.

"Please... I...I don't have any followers. I don't have any land. I-I don't plan on taking anything, I swear I've basically only just woke up—"

His brows furrow, "[name]—"

"—I'll leave! I promise!" Your legs give out, and you collapse to your knees.

Your terror filled eyes no longer dare to look upon him, "I...I'm not a part of the seven but... I-I didn't..! I'd never..!"

A pitched cry forces itself passed your lips, "if I had a choice I wouldn't be here in the first place so p-please! Please... Banish me to the seas! I just--I... I don't want to die..."

Zhongli's stomach drops, "Oh, my dear—no..."

Sickness fills him to the brim and despair overwhelms him in waves.

He slowly lowers himself to your level, gaze soft as he does so.

"[name], please, look at me," Your lack of response causes him to sigh, but his patience is ever present, "here, how about you take my hand?"

Sniffling quietly, you tense when he draws closer.

"...I couldn't... M-Morax—"

"Whilst I retain the name of a former archon, the name you have come to know bares no such burden."

He keeps his hand outstretched, "So please, won't you look at me?"

It takes a moment of tension before you feel you foolishly dare attempt to make contact.

Your head lifts ever so slowly, and though you refuse to meet his eyes, you gradually reach out a trembling hand to meet his.

Zhongli breathes out a silent sigh of relief, gently tracing his thumb across your tense knuckles to soothe your nerves.

He whispers small praises of strength and gratitude, smiling gingerly when you look at him in alarm and embarrassment when he presses a kiss to your stiff fingers.

"There you go," He hums softly, "nothing is going to harm you, lest of all me, my dear..."

Slowly, slowly, the tremors stop and terror fades from your body. Exhaustion clouds you once you you're conscious of your senses.

Your embarrassment only grows at the awareness of your state: settled on your knees and with tear stained cheeks—not just in front of another archon but your (once upon a time) date no less.

Uh oh, you forgot about that.

You take in a sharp breath and look away to hide your face, clearing your throat as you attempt to pull away your hand.

Zhongli refuses to let go.

Instead, he stands, and gently pulls you up with him. Your voice wavers, feeling the dryness of your tongue, but Zhongli is patient.

He waits for you to gather your bearings.

"How," You sniffle quietly, "ah... how long have you known..?"

You refuse to meet his gaze.

Zhongli smiles gently, "From the very moment you mentioned your name."

"What?" You blink.

He chuckles lightheartedly, "No mortal would dare name a child after a God, my dear. Besides, your youth as an archon means you have yet to master how to conceal your presence."

"Oh."

While mortals may not be able to detect a God among the people, there is always a connection from archon to archon unless they wish to mask it.

As you are a young archon (though two thousand years old, you've been asleep for the past five hundred) with your elder brother trapped beneath the ocean depths, you lacked the guidance he would have provided.

You've managed to figure out a few things on your own, but your isolation from others of your being have left you clueless.

Zhongli smiles at you softly, "Not to worry, my dear. While I may have officially, well, unofficially, really—retired from being an archon, you are no longer alone. Do not carry this burden by yourself, hm?"

You take in a bashful breath, "R-Right. Thank you, uh, Zhongli."

He offers his arm to you once more, keeping a soft look upon his features as to keep you assured.

You glance between him and the ground, hesitation clouding your mind before you rationalise your thoughts—he had known about you from the moment you met. If he really wanted you gone, you would be.

But you weren't.

And so you give him a shy smile before accepting his arm, and you continue your night at a slower pace.

Though you both remain oblivious to the soulless blue eyes that observe you from within the shadowed darkness of the night.

A sly smirk traces his lips—a that plan would soon come to fruition.

Nearly two weeks since that night, you help load up at the docks on a bright sunny day.

The ramp creaks slightly with every heavy weight carried over from land and on board, the workers chattering about as they go on with their business.

Zhongli and you had continued to meet up, occasionally for lunch, but more so in the evenings so you had more time to spend together. Your crew mates teased you relentlessly, but they were nice about it—thanks to your pa, that is.

He was in near tears when he first heard about it, sniffling about how his little one was all grown up, even when you've never been a child in the time he'd known you, but it was funny (and sweet) nonetheless.

Darla was ready for all the gossip, and gave you all the romance talk you could ever need.

Needless to say, you were incredibly embarrassed that day.

Particularly when Zhongli came to pick you up at the docks after seeing you were late. Never again will you let Darla speak to him.

Zhongli was amused though.

It was around midday when things began to get weird.

It was only you who noticed at first, though you brushed it off seeing as you would be the only one to notice.

You'd noticed the currents beneath the water's surface began to quicken, gradually turning into a swirl. Then the sky darkened, and the swirling currents moved further out to sea before breaching the surface—a vortex.

Thunder clouds rolled in and lightning struck the ground. At the sudden change in weather, the people of Liyue slowed in their works.

Panic came to fruition as the vortexes rose into the air, connecting with the storm clouds above.

Harsh rain pelted down on Liyue Harbour, the ocean waves rising and crashing down like a dominoes on the docks; the water became so rough it began to damage the boats and ships, fiercely pulling the wooden stakes of the docks.

"Run! Run!" People screamed, "move inland!"

"Away from the waters!"

"Move! Quickly!"

The harbour was in hysterics.

You felt pain grip your heart at the fearful screams of the people you had come to love, worry flooding you as the wooden stakes began to rock.

"[name]!" Your pa comes barrelling towards you with heavy footsteps, his rain drenched clothes weighing him down, "stay away from the boats! Get inside the buildings!"

He hurriedly nudges you away from the docking point, eyes rapidly blinking to get rid of the water.

"What about you?!"

You have to yell over the sound of the thunder and heavy rainfall.

"I'm getting the rest of the crew!" He calls back, "stay put!"

You can do nothing but nod, dumbfounded at the sudden turn of events.

As you turn to leave the harbour, a deep voice calls for you.

It's quiet, yet it rings throughout your head and echoes in your ears, and your eyes widen.

You recognise the voice, though it had been many centuries.

"Big brother..." You mutter under your breath.

You move your gaze towards the violent waters, seeing a small, snake like tendril beckoning you forwards. You feel a sting in your eyes--and not just for the pelting rain.

Nervous butterflies flurry in your chest as the rain falling around you grows lighter.

"[name]..."

The voice beckons you, and you move closer.

It repeats your name again, "little one... follow..." the tendril falls back into the water, and you gasp.

"W-Wait! No!"

You rush towards the rough waters edge and collapse to your knees, peering into the depths.

Desperation clings to you and you loose all rationale, a cotton haze in your mind forcing you to no longer pay heed to the life you had built since your awakening.

"Brother! Brother, where are you!?" Your eyes dart around before spotting the tendril once again, and relief floods your system. It motions for you to follow before disappearing once more.

You follow.

Chasing it across Liyue Harbour and spying it from the ocean border, it popped up each time before dropping down and appearing someplace else.

Before you knew it, you found yourself by the cliffs of Wuwang Hill.

You struggle to see through the veil of rain, the thunder grumbling louder and louder. Through the thick of it, you spot the faint outline of a man, his back turned to you.

Shock almost paralyses your body. You find yourself slowly moving towards the man nonetheless.

The closer you gets, the better you can determine some of his features.

While tall, he maintains a lean build, ocean hued locks cascading down his pale back. His body is adorned in a loose hanfu, colours corresponding with the oceanic depths.

Your eyes widen when he turns his head toward you, lapis blue irises meeting with the [colour] of your own.

The smallest of smiles tugs at his thinned, pale lips, fondness softening his gaze.

"Hello," He greets, voice—though with a slight rasp—is rich and otherwise smooth, "little one."

Your heart races, a heavy breath leaving you before you bolt towards the man, tears streaking down from your eyes and mixing with the rain.

"Big brother!" You cry out, embracing his form from behind.

Despite your affection, the male keeps himself facing the cliffs edge. He places his hands upon yours, tracing your knuckles softly.

He hums softly, "My dear, sweet sibling," a sad look overcomes his features, and he gazes out towards the harbour.

At his lackluster, you sniffle before looking up confusedly.

"Osial..?" You question, eyes glistening.

He does not ordain you with a response.

Your attention slowly draws towards the city of Liyue, absolute horror filling you to the brim at the sight of it—vortexes reaching from between the sea and the sky threaten to swallow the buildings and wreck the stone mountains, whirlpools drawing closer to the bayside.

You spot giant tendrils of a hydra composed of water thrashing amidst the chaos, roaring and hissing as the rain pours heavy.

"Osial!" You cry out in terror.

"Brother—what's going on?! What are you doing?!" You remove your arms from the figure of the God, pushing yourself in front of him in a panic, "brother, please!"

The male's firm eyes do not falter, and he merely glances at you.

"It is for the best, dear one," A frown makes itself known on his once passive features.

You feel a swirl of emotions well up inside you, "What? No, no! Please—brother, Liyue is my home!"

Osial's gaze hardens, and anger clouds his view.

"Liyue," He spits the name, "has corrupted you, dear one," his fists clench by his side, and the large tendrils of water grow even more fierce, "he has corrupted you."

Your stature falters, "W-What..?"

The man only huffs, crossing his arms across his chest as he holds his chin high, "Do not act so naïve. I know who you confide with. You have betrayed me, little one."

"Betrayed you..? Betrayed? Brother, what are yo—"

"You have made treason with the one whom trapped me under our depths for millennia. You have taken side with Rex Lapis, the Geo Archon—he has taken you from me!"

The God's hair rises in opposition to the heavy downpour, locks twisting into the form of snakes that hiss, "and so I too, will take something precious from him."

His voice booms across the hills and across the waters.

From the edge of the Jade Chamber, Aether and his comrades divert their attention towards the sound of the yell, and their eyes widen.

You feel your heart break in your chest, "What..? No.. no! Osial! Brother—" you begin to scream, tears, like a waterfall, steaming down your face, "brother, please! Think for a moment! Brother!"

The elder ignores your cries of anguish.

Staring you down sternly despite the ache in his chest. He says nothing as he pushes you to the side, walking towards the cliffs edge once more.

He turns to you one last time, a sharp bite present in his tone.

"Once this is over, I will be back for you, dear one. And him," His eyes glint dangerously, "I will kill."

And then he leaps, vanishing into the furious, crashing depths below.

Your stomach drops, and the amount of panic coursing through you makes you dizzy.

You can't lose your brother.

But you can't lose him either.

And you surely wouldn't be able to cope without your beloved city.

So you run.

You race through the forest on foot, terror coursing through your veins.

While it would be faster to traverse through the waters in your bubbled form, it's current condition would render you immobile, and it would only be easier for your brother to hunt you down.

You hiss at the rain hitting your eyes, pushing through the irritation and the pain as you continues to run.

Not to the harbour, no.

It would be much to easy for him to find you there.

You must get away, far away.

Away from the waters, away from your brother, and away from him—your beloved, Morax.

Zhongli.

Your body aches and your heart shatters, but you persist--never once sparing a glance over your shoulder at the chaos that ensues.

You didn't know where you were, but even if you were far, the distance between you and the harbour still could not disguise the explosion from afar.

Your eyes widen at the light booming from whence you had gone, hands covering your gaping mouth as you fall to your knees with a stifled cry.

That was it.

It was done.

The fight was over, but you could feel it, in your heart, that it was not your brother who had won.

The breath in you chest is forcefully taken from you, and you can't find it within yourself to fight for it back.

You stumble into the nook of a mountain base you had hidden in, falling onto the cobbled and cold ground with tears. Your shoulders heave with your heavy and silent cries, before a loud scream escapes you, rocking the land and rippling the waters.

A searing pain grips your heart.

Despite their victory and with their feet on solid ground, the traveller and the rest cannot help but feel unease.

After their win is assured, a shrill shriek of pain ruptures the air, having echoed from afar. The people of the harbour shudder and almost collapse, looking around in fear, worry, and wonder.

But the group know better, and Aether shares a look of alarm with Paimon—their attention is yet to be caught by the figure slowly and weakly rising through the bubbling of the ocean water.

Through your tears and anguished cries, your exhausted mind forces you into a deep slumber—your body rested in the cave.

You remain undisturbed for days.

Panic and worry consumes those who know you, unknowing of your whereabouts and your condition.

Zhongli, putting aside his contract, feared for you the moment of the attack.

News reached him quickly of Osial's anger towards Rex Lapis for having 'stolen' his beloved sibling, though information of Morax's mortality remain only with the adepti and the Qixing.

By request of the former archon, the traveller sought the help of the fellow adepti to track down the missing god, the Qixing keeping an eye out, though having to prioritise the chaos of the people.

Within the time of their search, you awaken in a daze. Though still heartbroken, your mind is in more ease.

You peek outside of your little cave, stepping out and glancing around. It seems that you made it to the border between Cuijue Slope and Tianqiu Valley, near the adeptus mountains.

About to leave your enclosure, a cold fear consumes you as a shadow obscures you overhead. You look up, spotting the retreating form of Cloud Retainer from above.

Panic grips you again, and you immediately return to your stone cold haven.

They've discovered your existence—they're after you.

After the defeat of your brother, they've come to deal with you next. Since the destruction your brother had caused, surely only death would befall you as punishment in suit.

Tears gather in your eyes again and you muffle a weep. Your body stiffens at the sound of a shuffle from the cave's mouth, and your throat tightens.

Slowly, you stand, keeping silent as the intruder grows closer. You take in one last breath, deciding to play defense as there was no where for you to go.

You summon your catalyst which rotates with your elemental, encased in a bubble with strands of water circling around it. In your spare hand you generates the first burst of hydro, ready to attack.

Anticipation and anxiety flood you as a head pops around the corner, followed by a body with a sword in their hand.

Without hesitation, you clench your eyes shut and let out a battle cry, throwing down your elemental and attacking at a rapid pace.

While your original attack is not powerful, it's continuous onslaught is fast and taxing.

Yells of alarm and pain are heard from the intruder, voices reverberating around the cave.

"Wait! W-Wait!"

"[name]—Wait! It's me! Aether—t-the traveller!"

"A-Aether..?" You slowly cease your attack and peek your eye open, gasping at the sight of the familiar blond male and his floating mushroom fairy companion, "oh! Archons..! Aether, Paimon—I'm so sorry!"

The traveller gives you a sheepish grin whilst Paimon shakes the remaining bubbles off her head, smiling at you.

"Don't sweat it!" The little fairy dismisses.

"So this is where you've been hiding, huh?" Aether comments, "are you okay?"

You shrug, weapon dissapating, "I..I don't know. I've been too afraid to leave, and had fallen asleep in my grief... I don't know how to feel."

The male hums, "Liyue has been looking for you, you know," his voice is gentle, "come on. Everyone is worried."

With a bit more coaxing, the traveller and his companion manage to lead you out of the cave.

You freeze at the sight of someone waiting outside.

Xiao had been standing guard the mouth of the cave, waiting for Aether's return. His hardened eyes meet yours, and you cower in fear, re-summoning your catalyst on a whim.

Your hands bubble with hydro.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy!" Paimon flies in front of you, waving her arms about frantically, "it's just Xiao! Paimon knows he looks scary, but Paimon promises he's really nice! Deep, deep down!"

You glance between Paimon and the adeptus, who eyes you back wearily.

"He...he's not here to kill me..?"

"Kill you?" Everyone is taken aback by the statement, "why would he kill you?" Aether furrows his brows worriedly, "we've been searching for you for days."

"And Zhongli's been worried sick!" Paimon chips in.

"Z-Zhongli..?" Your eyes flutter, and your guard lowers, "oh no... please—take me to him..!" And so they do.

A weary but rushed trip back to Liyue Harbour consisted of Paimon fretting over you and lowkey (okay, highkey) freaking out over the fact that you were indeed another archon, you fearing for your life whenever Xiao so much as glanced at you, and Aether reassuring you that no one wanted you dead.

Reaching the harbour was like a slap in the face for you, of both uncertainty and relief--relief at the fact that most were safe, and casualties were little, but uncertain of how those who knew you would react to you returning, especially the Qixing and Zhongli.

You wondered if the Qixing will let you roam or imprison you for your brother's acts, or if Zhongli will shadow you in favour for his city--though that would be fair, you conclude.

They are his people after all.

"Baby pearl!" Your head perks up at the name, head darting around in search for the source of the watery call, "oh, thank the archons!"

Your papa comes barreling towards you, unshed tears glistening in his dark brown eyes as he wraps his arms around your frazzled form, "you're safe..! You're safe..."

"P-Papa..." Tears, once again, well up in your pretty [colour] orbs, and you sniffle at the tightness of his hold, "...papa..!"

You let out a cry, sobbing into his shoulder, "I-I'm so sorry..!"

"You're okay, pearl, you're oka-y!" The usually stoic captain's voice cracks, and he sniffles with you. As your tears die down, he straightens himself and clears his throat, turning towards your onlookers, "thank you, for bringing [name] back safe."

Paimon tiltes her head slightly, "Hm? Doesn't he know that they're...?" She eyes you shaking your head rapidly and a lightbulb goes off in Paimon's head, "Ooh! Paimon gets it. Yes! We kept them very safe indeed! Hehe."

"Of course, sir," Aether nods respectfully, Xiao simply dozing off into his thoughts.

"Papa," You gently call his attention, "have you seen Zhongli anywhere?"

The man scoffs, "Where haven't I seen him? He's been frantic since you left. He's either by the pavillion or the terrace. You've given the young man quite the fright."

You sweatdrop.

"Ah, y-yes..." You give your papa one more shaky smile, planting a grateful kiss on his scruffy cheek, "I'll be back soon okay? I promise I won't be going anywhere again."

"Hmph, you better... now, come on you lot! We could use a few more hands down by the docks!"

Xiao promptly disappears at that, with Paimon groaning and Aether simply smiling and giving a polite nod before heading off to help.

With that, the young archon begins making their way towards the destinated areas, checking the pavillion first before heading up to the terrace.

Anxiety pulses in your heart momentarily, but you quickly dismisses it--like papa said, Zhongli had been frantic, so you have nothing to worry about.

Making your way up the stairs, you ignore the eyes of a certain ginger who walks opposite to you, watching as you pass him by.

Reaching the top, disbelief takes over your very being.

Your jaw drops and your shoulders sag at the amount of shock coursing through you.

There, atop the end of the terrace, was Zhongli talking to a man only a few blue hairs taller than him.

His clothes are slightly tattered, and still loose, reflecting colours of the ocean depths. His skin, though pale, is slightly bruised. And although his brows are furrowed ever so slightly, the smallest of smiles rests confortably on his thin lips.

It was Osial.

Your brother.

Talking to Zhongli.

The geo archon.

Civilly.

How in the abyss were you suppose to react to this?

How the hell are you suppose to approach them?

Do you say hi to your brother first? Would Zhongli be offended? Or do you greet your lover? But wouldn't Osial be mad then? You couldn't really just waltz over either, you'd just been recovered from hiding. What does someone even say after that?

Your mind races with these conflicted thoughts, eyes dazed and mouth still agape in shock.

You blink.

"Ah, [name]," Your brother addresses you first, the two men turning their attention to your figure, "dear one..."

His gaze is soft, a regretful look on his features. His shoulders are no longer held back and squared, and his chin is no longer held up so high. Sadness overwhelms him at your lack of response.

You continue to stare, only taking small, slow steps towards them.

"I..." He sighs, "my dearest kin... I am so... sorry. Truly. It was I, who was corrupt, not you. Never you." His throat tightens, but he continues.

"So many years under trapped under the surface made my mind weary, and I was easily influenced by those you call the Fatui. I had not meant to hurt you, or cause you great fear... My mind was overwhelmed by anger when I was told that the very God who entrapped me had stolen you, forcefully entrapturing you," Osial closes his eyes in remorse, "it is only now that I learn it was all a ploy, and for that, I deeply apologi--"

He stops mid sentence, eyes snapping open in surprise with a silent breath.

Once within arms length, you had thrown your arms around his waist, nuzzling into his chest with watery eyes. Osial looks down at you in bewilderment, Zhongli quietly chuckling at his expression off to the side.

You sniffle.

"I'm just glad you're still here, big brother..."

Blood rushes to the male's cheeks at the sentiment, and his own eyes begin to gloss over with unshed tears. He takes in a sharp breath, holding you close and tight. He rests his chin atop your head.

"As am I, dear one... I had taken you for granted..." Osial is the first to pull away, smiling down at you gently.

He cups your cheek in his hand, caressing it gently, "My, how you've grown... so beautiful and mature now. I've missed you, little one."

"And I, you, dear brother..." You smile tearfully back up at him, leaning into his familial touch. He places a loving kiss on your forehead before releasing you, stepping away and looking towards the former geo archon.

Your eyes draw towards the dark haired man, stomach fluttering while your heart does flips.

Zhongli smiles down at you fondly, gaze soft. He steps towards you, outstretching his arms before pulling you into a secure embrace. He nestles his nose unto your head, breathing in your familiar scent.

"You had me so incredibly worried..." You flush at his bold affection, nuzzling him back.

"I know... I'm sorry."

He pulls back to look at you, cupping your face in his hands, "It's alright, my love. You're here now, and we're safe. Everyone is."

Your breath hitches in your throat, heart thumping from his endearment. He leans closer to you, nose brushing against your as his eyes grow half lidded.

"...I'm overjoyed that you're safe--"

"Ahem," Osial clears his throat, interrupting you.

Your face blossoms in heat with embarrassment, and you turn away in shame from your brother. Osial's arms cross with a deadpan look on his face.

"Not in front of me, you overgrown reptile," Osial hisses.

Zhongli rolls his eyes.

"Blink, then, you water-born cretin."

With that, Zhongli leans down and captures your lips in a long overdue kiss.

A squeak escapes you at his uncharacteristic vigor, though you figure he's doing so to get on your brother's nerves. Despite that, you can't help but indulge, eyes fluttering shut and humming into the kiss.

Your mind goes haywire at the feeling of his tongue gently running over the plump flesh of your lips. You can feel his breath through his nose caressing you, the air breaking upon contact with your skin, and he moans lowly against your mouth.

Osial gags at the sight, "Alright--alright! That's enough! Get your filthy hands off of my family, you decrepit fossil!"

It's safe to say that his protests went on unheard.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #gi x reader #x reader #character x reader #zhongli x reader #morax x reader #mtchee's library #mtchee's tea & story house

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soapsilly · 1 year ago

Text

Betrayal - Roronoa Zoro Imagine

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x reader

Spoilers for One Piece (?)

Summary: It's been two years since the straw hats got seperated by Bartholomew Kuma. Two years since (Y/N) and Zoro have last seen each other but when the day finally came to reunite things didn't quite play out like they had envisioned.

Requests are closed

Part 2 Part 3

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It wasn't love at first sight. Not at all. It wasn't like they disliked each other either - far from it actually. When the Straw Hats picked her up, it didn't take long for (Y/N) to make friends with almost the whole crew. When they arrived on her little autumn island it didn't take much convincing for them to make her part of the crew. She liked her little home outside of the village but she was never part of it. The Straw Hats found (Y/N) when they made a stop at the island for supplies. Whilst Nami and Sanji stormed to the market in the search for pretty things and food supplies respectively, Zoro and Luffy wandered into the next bar for drinks and meat - also respectively. That left Chopper and Usopp on the look out for medicinal herbs and whatever else was needed for Usopp's ammunition. When they asked the townspeople they told them about the witch that lived outside the village. The villagers usually avoided her unless they needed something - which made (Y/N) a rather lonely person. When Chopper and Usopp told their captain about what they've heard, Luffy was immediately excited. So the whole crew made their way up the hill to the hut where the alleged witch was located.

Once they arrived, Chopper immediately went for the flowers and herbs that grew in the garden infront of the little house.

"I wouldn't touch those. Most of them are poisonous", the girl that came out of the house didn't look like a witch at all. No warts, no hooked nose, not even a witchy hat or black boots. In fact, she was young and -

"Beautiful!", the tall, blond guy was at her side at an instant. He took her hand in his and starred deeply into her eyes, "my name is Sanji and you are?"

"(Y/N)", she giggled.

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It was easy for (Y/N) to make friends with the crew - well most of them. Luffy was a friendly guy by nature so no problem there, Sanji was swooned as soon as she stepped out of her house, Nami was just happy to have another girl on the ship and Chopper was happy about the few healing balms and herbs she could provide him with - even though he had hoped for more when he saw the densely vegetated garden in front of the witch's house. Much to his dismay most of them were poisonous plants, not because she planned something foul but rather just because she liked them the most. Usopp wasn't as easy to win over as he seemed to be rather sceptical of strangers, but as she handed him some ammunition for his sling shot she finally gained his sympathy. The first batch was a little too strong for Usopps liking - lethal to be specific - but after careful calibration, whoever was hit fell into a temporary paralysis, much to Zoro's dismay who quickly became Usopp's favourite victim for target practice.

The swordsman however was a different story. He wasn't outright mean to her but no matter how much she tried, how many smiles she sent his way or how many attempts at small talk she started, he just didn't seem to care. She didn't take offence to that though. She still enjoyed his company whilst the crew sat down for dinner or during their excursions to different islands. It was during those times that she noticed his abysmal sense of direction, his affinity for hard liquor and his dislike for a certain curly-eyebrowed cook. She always enjoyed the seemingly pointless fights that the two would get themselves into. It's not that she disliked either of them - quite the contrary in fact - she grew rather fond of both of the men even if one of them didn't want much to do with her and the other wanted a little too much. It was rather that entertainment on deck was scarce and they never really hurt each other in a serious way anyways - so no harm, no foul .

One night after dinner when most of the crew went on to do their separate things, (Y/N) decided to try it again with Zoro.

"Is it your turn to keep watch tonight?", she asked as she approached him on deck.

He looked at her for a few seconds but decided to answer her anyways. "No, I think it's Usopp and that shitty cook tonight"

That's just what the girl wanted to hear. "Great!"

He sent her a suspicious squint but let her continue.

"You like alcohol" - she stated and as if to confirm her statement he lifted his cup, which was already filled with some kind of liquor - "I got us some", she continued.

"I got my own", he grunted.

"This one's better. Believe me, I made it", she grinned.

"You made this?"

"Yep"

"Yourself?"

"Yep"

"With your poison plants? Are you trying to kill me?"

"Yep.... Well, no", she sighed, "it's really good. In a low dosage it has a euphoric effect. I usually drink it as a tea but I made it as a drink.. for us to share?"

The green haired man contemplated for a moment but then shrugged and held out his cup for her to fill.

After the first sip, he let the taste linger for a second and then decided to chug the whole thing before (Y/N) could protest.

"I like it. Give me another cup"

"What? No! This is stronger than normal sake. It's not supposed to be downed. You can't have another one so soon after the first"

"I don't feel a thing. I can handle it. Give me another"

She thought for a moment. What was the worst thing that could happen?

"Only if you drink this one slowly..."

He sent her a short nod, indicating his approval.

So for a while they sat there in silence sipping their drinks with the occasional question here and there.

"So, you're a witch, huh?"

"Me? Nah.. The townspeople liked to say that because I like to do tarot card readings and sold them potions and healing balms. There's nothing magical about it but rumours spread fast in such a little village"

"Why didn't you correct them?"

"I don't care. I made money off of it", she shrugged.

They both fell into silence again but it felt comfortable. She could feel the slight buzz already forming and by the glow on Zoro's cheeks, she could see that the drink started to have it's effect on him too.

"I wouldn't mind another drink, you know", he grinned at her mindlessly.

It was late already but (Y/N) didn't feel like cutting the time with Zoro short. Who would've thought that the way into a man's heart was freshly distilled alcohol?

Just as she was about to fill their cups yet another time, Sanji made his way patrolling around the ship. Only the sight of the cook was enough to make Zoro clench his jaw.

"What's your problem with Sanji?", she found the interaction hilarious.

"You wouldn't understand anyways. That talentless ero-cook..."

"Hey.. he might be a pervert, but his food is amazing!", she scolded the moss-head.

"You don't seem to mind the way he dances around you and Nami", he huffs.

"No, I think it's kinda nice actually but I wouldn't put too much thought into it", she shrugged, "he can't control himself around women. I wouldn't fall for a guy like that"

"Hah!", the swordsman seemed to like hearing that. One man's misfortune is another man's treasure. Especially if the first man happened to be a curly-browed cook.

The night went on and on and the more the two of them drank the more they opened up about their past, their dreams and aspirations. But since (Y/N)'s alcohol was indeed stronger than what Zoro was used to after a few more cups the deep conversations turned into silly jokes and stupid impressions, which was not unusual for (Y/N) at all but when Usopp told the others about what he saw in the morning neither wanted to believe Zoro had partaken aswell.

"I knew she was a real witch... She cast a spell on him", Chopper whispered.

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Since that night Zoro and (Y/N) would consider each other as friends. Neither would talk about it but during meal times they would sit by each other, during island walks they stayed with each other and during night patrol they kept each other company. And every now and again at night they would sit down on the deck with a bottle of (Y/N)'s liquor and repeat the first time they really talked to each other. And it was during those times that during a moonlit night they shared their first kiss. The next morning neither could say who it was, that initiated it but it didn't really matter anyways. For the most part nothing really changed between them and they never gave it a name but they never kept it a secret either.

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Zoro wasn't the same after Thriller Bark. He spent all his free time excercising and training without giving his body the time to properly heal.

"Zoro... please", she stood in the doorway of the crow's nest, "you need to heal"

He ignored her and just kept going.

"You heard what Chopper said. I'm worried about you"

Still no response.

"Damnit! Zoro, is your deathwish that big?", her voice was equal parts angry and sad, "how will you become the best swordsman in the world when you're dead?"

With a loud 'BANG' Zoro dropped his weight and turned to the girl in front of him, "I made a promise! Don't you understand I need to become stronger?"

(Y/N), of course knew about Zoro's past. She knew about Kuina and his promise to her but why did he have to be so stubborn?

"Is that promise more important than all of us? Your nakama?", she was on the verge of tears now.

"It's not just that", he yelled back. Why was she so stupid? "If I don't become stronger, I can't protect any of you"

"You can't protect us either if you're dead! And then you'll never be the world's best swordsman and I'll be alone again!", she screamed.

The Straw Hats could hear the fighting all the way down on deck. They were used to their fights being loud but this was different. Sanji was already half-way up the ladder to break up the fight, outraged that Zoro would dare to make (Y/N)-chan cry but Robin held him back telling him that there were some things that a couple needs to sort out themselves.

That night (Y/N) took the time to put a heap of pillows and blankets into the crow's nest to make it easier for him to relax a little. At first he refused to follow her at all but once she grabbed his hand and really stared into his eyes he realized how serious she was. Once she got him to settle in, she turned to leave but his voice stopped her.

"Stay", his voice was quiet, "please, stay"

She nodded and turned back to him. Usually she was the one to initiate closeness between the two, so moments like those were rare. Once she nestled into the mountains of pillows she heard his voice again.

"I'm sorry"

She was stunned. All the years and all the fights, she never heard him apologize to her before. She tried to say something but he continued.

"I know I'm stubborn, but the thought of not being strong enough to protect any of you kills me. I won't always have time to heal and when the time comes and we'll get attacked I will have to fight. And if anyone, especially you, gets hurt because I wasn't strong enough, I wouldn't be able to live with that"

The witch didn't know how to react to his confession. Instead she opted to brush her fingers to Zoro's green hair and soon after she could hear the deep snores of her lover.

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The Straw Hats were hopelessly at the mercy of marine admiral Kizaru. There was nothing they could do. All of them were battered and bruised already from the fight with the Kuma Androids and now (Y/N) had to witness Zoro collapse from one of the Admiral's attacks. In the distance she could hear Luffy scream his name. She knew it was too soon for a fight. Almost automatically she sprinted to the sprawled out form of her boyfriend. Once she reached him, there wasn't much time to spare. She grabbed his form and dragged his body away from the impending kick, that would kill him. Brook and Usopp tried to attack Kizaru while (Y/N) created some distance but in the blink of an eye the admiral stood above Zoro once again. One leg on his back, the other hovering above his head.

"I won't let you get away. It's no use", he said almost too calmly.

The thoughts inside of (Y/N)'s head were racing and before she knew what she was doing she threw herself over Zoro's exposed form.

"You fool. That won't save him. You'll die together", Kizaru laughed almost carelessly.

Her heart was racing and she felt the blood rushing in her ears, but she didn't dare to open her eyes.

"Get away!", she couldn't quite tell whose voice it was that reached her ears first but after the first exclamation another followed and another and another... but she only shook her head repeatedly tears streaming down her face.

"Go", Zoro's deep voice sounded raspy and like even that small little word hurt him immensely but (Y/N) only shook her head yet again not caring that the man beneath her could probably not even see it. But the deadly stomp never came. Instead, Rayleigh, Gol D. Roger's first mate, decided to come in and fight with admiral Kizaru himself.

"Grab Zoro and get out of there!", she heard Luffy yell. Usopp grabbed Zoro underneath his arm and dragged him out of the danger zone.

"You - You should have left", the swordsman tried to scold his girlfriend but his voice was weak.

"Can we fight about this once we're safely back on the Sunny, please?"

He tried to laugh, their bickering was one of his favourite things about their relationship but they never even got the chance to return to their home. Shortly after Kizaru, the real Kuma showed up and one after the other the Straw Hat Pirates disappeared.

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It's been two years since Kuma seperated the crew, two years since Luffy lost Ace, two years since Zoro has last seen (Y/N). But the time has finally come to reunite. Zoro was actually the first to arrive ten days ago. Shortly after the other Straw Hats arrived one after another. It was only the witch that was still missing. Zoro couldn't wait to tell her that not only did he arrive before her AND that shitty cook, he also arrived first overall. He decided to conveniently remain silent about the help of a certain Ghost Ghost Brat.

"Has anybody had any contact with (Y/N) in the last two years?", Nami asked the group but she only earned headshakes as a response. Zoro felt a touch of melancholy. He would never admit it infront of the crew but eventhough he had used every single day of those two years for training with Mihawk, he did miss her. And then just like that, there she was walking up the gangway.

Zoro felt like his heart skip a beat once he saw her fully. She didn't change much, she was still beautiful. So much infact, that the ero-cook almost bled out once she went to greet him. The only thing that changed were the many tattoos that littered her body - mostly her arms. Flowers, beetles, stars and moons.

She came up to him last but something was weird. He expected her to leap into his arms like she had done so often in the past. He never initiated PDA infront of others - or rather at all - but he never complain when she did it, but this time she just stood there.

"Zoro, your eye..."

For a second he felt insecure. He never paid the fresh scar that decorated his left eye any mind and he didn't think that (Y/N) would either.

"Are you okay?", she seemed worried.

He grunted as to confirm that he was fine.

"You look good", she sent him a reassuring smile.

For a while the two of them just stood there but then Luffy's loud voice pulled them out of the moment.

"So now that we're complete let's set sail!"

(Y/N) flinched and then looked panicked.

"Wait, no, no no. There's something I need to tell you guys"

The crew waited in silence for their friend to continue.

"I won't come be coming you"

It was quiet for a few secong before Luffy's booming laugh filled the space, clearly thinking she was joking but Zoro knew something was wrong. In all those years as a fighter he learned to observe high stress situations and this was one. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but something was very wrong.

"Luffy... I'm not - I'm not joking", her voice was quiet.

Luffy abruptly stopped laughing. She didn't dare look up into the faces of her former crew mates in fears of what she might see but her decision has been made. It's not like she had much of a choice anyways.

"What's going on? Who's making you say this? Is someone threatening you?", Sanji asked. Even he mellowed out considering the tense situation. As much as he disliked the cook, Zoro approved of the questions, he knew she wouldn't leave them on her own accord.

"Nobody is threatening me and nobody is making me say this. I just can't - I don't... I will not be coming with you"

"But why?", Nami tried to reason with her.

"You guys don't understand. I have a home, a little house with a garden..."

"You can have a garden here on the Sunny...", Franky interjected.

"Whatever you'll need from your home, we'll get it on the way. Don't you worry about it", Luffy laughed, still not understanding how serious the situation was. Everybody was talking, asking questions, yelling suggestions but (Y/N) just kept shaking her head vehemently.

"Don't be an idiot. Just tell us what's going on", that was the first time Zoro spoke up. He had enough of the excuses. His voice cut through the noise like a sword and now all eyes laid on him.

"I had a child!", she yelled.

For a few heartbeats nothing and nobody on deck made a sound.

"A little boy to be specific", she continued, "I have a family now"

Zoro could've sworn there was a ringing sound that filled the air but the truth was, it was probably just the blood rushing through his ears.

"What?", Nami's voice sounded cold, mechanic even.

"I-"

"Don't!", (Y/N) had never seen Nami so enraged, "You found someone else? How could you do that? To us? To Zoro?"

"It's been two years...", the witch pleaded.

"So? So? None of us had any issues keeping it in our pants but you had to go and play house with the next best guy ?"

Nami's words hurt but (Y/N) knew that she deserved them. It was never her intention to hurt anybody - especially Zoro - but two years were a long time and a lot has changed.

(Y/N) looked around but the other Straw Hats avoided looking at her. Once her gaze landed on the spot where Zoro was leaning against the railing, she noticed that he was missing. She didn't know at what point he had left but she didn't blame him.

(Y/N) tried to say something but as soon as she opened her mouth Nami interrupted her.

"You should leave"

The other woman nodded and turned to say her goodbyes to the rest of the crew.

"So... Fish-Man Island, huh?", she sent Robin a little smile. The older woman was always so understanding even when the other person didn't really deserve it.

"Yes.. but first we'll have to make a stop at the next island over. Sabaody is full of marines, we didn't get all the supplies we needed, soooo if you change your mind ...", she suggested.

"I don't think Nami would let me live if I'll ever show my face around here again", she answered, "not that I could blame her"

"Give it some time", Robin hugged the younger woman as a farewell.

For a moment (Y/N) just stood there staring at the ladder to the crow's nest. But before she could even make an attempt to say her good-byes to Zoro Nami interjected.

"Don't you even dare. Don't think about it. Just leave."

(Y/N) was happy that Zoro had his friends that cared so much about him. Nami really cared about every single one of them - even if they sometimes drove her crazy. And if somebody hurt them, may it be their own nakama or anybody else, her mama-bear instinct kicked in. The boys always acted like the strongest, toughest warriors of the sea but deep down she knew they were idiots at heart. Her idiots.

"Nami-", the witch decided to try it a last time but the navigator only turned away from her former friend, signaling her that she doesn't have anything to say to her anymore.

As (Y/N) was walking down the gangway Usopp climbed up the crow's nest.

"Zoro... (Y/N) is leaving..."

But Zoro did not make a move. In fact, he didn't even react to Usopp at all. He just kept on exercising the way he usually does whenever anything is on his mind. In times like these, it was (Y/N), who would calm him down and get him to eat and even relax a little but now it was her that caused his isolation. He never felt the need to open up to anybody. Love was more of the ero-cook's thing even if he never actually had any success with the women he made his feeble attempts at. Zoro remembered how him and (Y/N) used to make fun of how much he was doing with so little payoff. He put some more weights on to get his mind away from the hurtful memory.

He would've never thought that she'd do something like that. Zoro wasn't the jealous type - never has been. Even when they were together the cook wouldn't stop flirting with (Y/N) but the swordsman was never worried. And whenever a slimey fool in the bars during their island journeys got a little too close for comfort, his girlfriend would easily send them away.

"I'd keep my hands to myself if I were you", she'd say, "Do you see that mosshead over there? He'll be the strongest swordsman in the world. You reeaally shouldn't bother his girlfriend"

His girlfriend...

Zoro shook his head. He was a fool. Of course, she'd find someone else. She basically always told him that she wasn't a person that could deal with being alone easily. That was probably the only reason she was ever with him to begin with. He put yet another set of weights on the barbell. She already said she wouldn't fall for Sanji. So was he just the next best option? But a whole family? A child? If it was just a new boyfriend, she could've surely left him after the two years. She could've come back to him. Zoro was so hopelessly in love with her, he wouldn't even care. But now she had a family. A family that she would never leave alone. She knew how much Robin suffered from losing her mother early. She wouldn't do that. Zoro let the weights drop to the floor with a loud 'BANG'. With all that thinking the swordsman however never once stopped to consider that his former partner made her choice not only out of obligation but rather because the truly was happier now...

************************************************************************

Epilogue

(Y/N) never felt as lost as the moment when she stepped off the Thousand Sunny. Within just a matter of moments she lost her family, her friends, her nakama. And even worse, she hurt someone, that she very deeply cared about. For a while she just stood there, thoughts rushing through her head. But whatever scenario she made up, there wasn't any other way. So after a few deep breaths she made her way back to her new home - back to the moss-headed boy, that reminded her so much of his father already.

#roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagine #roronoa zoro imagine #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro imagine #one piece x reader #one piece

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selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs · 6 months ago

Note

Can I ask "If you weren't alone" with Dazai, Kunikida and Atsushi? I give my thanks first!

If you were not alone

Part VIII

Characters: Self-Aware! Dazai Osamu, Self-Aware! Kunikida Doppo, Self-Aware! Atsushi Nakajima

Reader: GN! Adult! Reader

Warning: OOC. English is my second language

📒🐯🪢🦀 It was supposed to be a normal shopping trip. How in the world you, Kunikida, Dazai and Atsushi ended at the base of Mt. Yougou, not far away from Kamisato's Estate?

No, rephrase that. How in the world you ended up in Teyvat?

Before you can discuss, what happened and what to do next, you four heard a booming voice.

"HEY, SHINOBU, LOOK, ALL-CREATOR DECIDED TO VISIT INAZUMA! LET'S GO AND SAY HELLO!"

A familiar oni was running towards you, almost dragging his deputy leader behind him. Ushi wiggled behind them.

Tall oni stopped before you, bowing.

"Greetings, Your Holiness, cool to see you in Inazuma!"

You opened and closed your mouth, not knowing what to say. Was Itto talking to you? Itto looked at you, waiting for your answer. You coughed.

"Um... Thanks for the warm welcome, Itto. How is your Gang doing?"

You have a feeling, that you messed up, despite seeing a huge grin on Itto's face.

Then you caught Shinobu's gaze. She was observing you. An unreadable expression was ob her face. She spoke, facing Itto.

"Boss, why not to prepare lavender melons to Their Holiness and their guards, while I updated them on Gang's businesses?"

Itto's grin became even bigger, and oni, after grabbing Ushi, hurried up to the distance in search for lavender melons.

When Itto get out of sight, Shinobu's gaze became serious again.

"Okay, with Boss out of earshot... Confess, you four, who are you? Creator... didn't care about Boss and our gang."

You, Atsushi, Kunikida and Dazai, after some whispering, decided not to lie.

At the end of your story, Shinobu looked concerned.

"I... I don't know if you believe me... But you four are in big danger."

📒🐯🪢🦀 It Shinobu quite some time to explain the situation to you. Mostly because Itto returned quite quickly and your little group had a small lunch. At the end of it, Atsushi and Dazai because Bro Atsushi and Bro Dazai, and Kunikida and Shinobu get a headache over three lovable idiots.

After lunch, Shinobu managed to send Itto on an onikabuto hunt ("Creator need a perfect onikabuto familiar for them. Boss, you can find the best one for them.")

And Shinobu continue her tale. About Creator and "sinners cleaning rituals". And about the danger you four were in.

Shinobu said, that you four have few days, before wanted posters will be up.

📒🐯🪢🦀 You stay with the Arataki Gang for tonight. And, while you, Atsushi and Kunikida were sleeping, Dazai was planning. He, with Shinobu help for getting "trivia information", was trying to find a way to protect you all.

You woke up early in the morning, say goodbye to Arataki Gang and hurry to Ritou Island.

Luck was on your side, and you four get on a ship to Liyue.

You were far away from Inazuma, when Ei's lightning storms rise again.

📒 Problems started in Liyue. Mililith solders were patrolling The Harbor and looking through every ship. Kunikida prepared flash grenades and dark glasses in advance. You will only have one chance.

In a "storm" of flashing lights, you, Kunikida and Atsushi with sunglasses on and Dazai with a blindfold on escaped from Liyue Harbor.

Kunikida didn't tell you about the gun he created in case of the situation going bad.

🐯 In Sumeru you get very strange protection. Rishboland Tigers, for some reason, loved Atsushi and followed his every command. When Corps of Thirty chased after you, rishboland tigers, with half-transformed Atsushi as their leader, chased them away.

One of the tigers was the one, who found aranaras and called you.

And they were quite happy to see you.

"World Nara are finally here!"

Same day, you four met Nahida.

Dendro Archon explained more about the whole situation. And provided you four with three choices.

1. You can stay in Sumeru and wait for Alice, your only hope to get to the real world, visit this nation again.

2. Hurry to Natlan, where Alice was traveling to.

3. Go to Mondstadt and wait for Alice's arrival. She should be there on Klee's birthday.

You can only choose one. You won't be able to travel from Natlan to Mondstadt in time, and, staying for so long in Sumeru, despite Nahida's assistance, can be dangerous.

📒🐯🦀🪢 A one discussion later, you four decided to go to Mondstadt. And Nahida even find a way for you to safe travel.

With Dehya and Dunyarzad starting rumors about Imposter going to Natlan, Keveh and Alhaitham (who needed to do some job for dendro archon in Mondstadt and get gifts for Creator to the Ivory Throne) will secretly get you four to Mondstadt.

After a tearful goodbye to Nahida and Aranaras, you left Sumeru.

🦀🪢 During the short trip to Mondstadt, you, Dazai, Kunikida, Atsushi, Alhaitham and Kaveh became good friends. And, you discovered, that Teyvat started to listen to your small commands.

(You didn't know, that Nahida and Aranaras were praying to you, making your powers stronger).

After you get to Mondstadt, a waiting game started. You four, with a help of Albedo, who run into you four one day, managed to stay hidden from the Knights of Favonius.

Dazai also brought Primordial Albedo to your camp one day. You didn't know where he found him, or why he decided to bring him to you, but... Now you have your own alchemist.

and you thought, it was Oda's job to took in orphans

And you all became good friends with Klee.

📒🐯🦀🪢You managed to safely stay in Mondstadt, until Alice's arrival. You four got presents from Alice, a thank you for being friends of Klee, and Alice finally got you five (Dazai demand for Prim to go with you) at the Real World. But, before that, she spoke to you.

"Your Holiness... [Y/N]... Monster on the throne... It will destroy Teyvat one day. Please, if you can... Send us help to dethrone them."

You promised to think about it. She asked you to provide your powers for her to transport you five.

_________

🐾 Fukuzawa was worried. Three of his detectives and you were missing. And search parties came back with no results.

Until one day, you four appeared from the portal in the barn (portal remains) with a strange new guy and dags full of fruits. And... Is it planers on your backs?

🐾 Explanation is in order. And then, more planning to come. You have people in Teyvat to help to.

_________

Tag list: @withered-blossoms , @myluckymoon @cocodrilofeliz @c4xcocoa @vvyeislazzy @whisperingwinters @nervousinfluencertidalwave @ayameshu

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trickphotography2 · 3 months ago

Text

'tis the damn season | Chapter 10

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 11.5K (sorry, she's a beast)

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 9 | Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 10

Thunder rumbled, and the wind rustled the tall grass. The stems tickled his ear, and Jake absently moved it away before sighing and lifting his hat from his face to squint up at the sky. Grey clouds were rolling in from the west, and he’d seen the cows lying down in the field as he rode to his favorite spot on the property after finishing chores.

The twinge in his knee was right - an August storm was coming in.

Sighing, Jake settled the hat back on his face, blocking the sun. Mama had dug his old Stetson from the closet the first day he’d returned with a sunburned face after working outside with Will to replace a section of fence that’d come down in a windstorm. When he’d looked for his Longhorns cap the next day, it was drip-drying in the shower. Mama’d claimed she just wanted to wash it for him, but who washed ball caps first thing in the morning?

A second clap of thunder boomed, followed by a cow bellowing. Starlight, his favorite mare, tossed her head and snorted, foot stomping. Groaning, he slowly sat up, setting his hat on his head and grimacing at the twinge in his lower back. Even months after the ejection, he was still stiff and sore if he spent too much time sitting still. Lying on the ground certainly didn’t help. But he was tired after doing his chores, and it was easier to deal with the nightmares when he didn’t have to worry about his folks hearing him toss and turn. The flight surgeon assured him they’d go away with time, just like he needed to give his back and knee time to heal. The SEALs medic had stabilized his left knee, but trekking eight miles over rough terrain to the rendezvous point on a torn ACL hadn’t been fun. Neither had the surgery in Landstuhl, Germany after he’d been med-evaced from the carrier. But thankfully, he’d been able to get shipped back home shortly after, reaching the States just a few weeks after Rooster and the rest of the SEAL team did. The success of their mission was already making national headlines. Jake knew his next promotion was guaranteed, but it didn’t matter.

Because when he’d been lying in that bed in Germany, the one person he’d wanted to talk to hadn’t picked up her phone.

He’d known there was a chance Cece wouldn’t answer when he’d called. In their last conversation before he shipped out - permission was granted for a last minute to contact his loved ones - he’d pleaded with her to distract him, and she told him her travel plans, voice brimming with excitement. Pops confirmed she was overseas when they talked after his surgery. He’d offered to call and let her know what was happening, but Jake told him not to bother. Despite his family’s disapproval, he held firm to it - the last thing he wanted was Cece to come back to him only because he was injured. But in his darker moments, he was mad and hurt. He hated being alone in his hospital room. Wanted to see her when he got off the plane. And as much as he appreciated Mama flying out to help him get around his apartment those first few weeks, Jake selfishly wanted Cece.

But they’d agreed to take the time apart to think. The sight of her tear-stained face that night in January when they’d stayed up until 4:00 AM on a video call still haunted him. The exhaustion he’d felt when they finally hung up wasn’t just physical. The conversation had been a long time coming, but he still hadn’t been prepared. Cece’s voice had broken so many times on that call when she finally opened up to him. Jake was forced to reckon with the fact that, while he’d thought their relationship was perfect, the woman he loved had been miserable for a long time - and he’d been too blinded to see it. Like everyone else, he’d fallen for Cece’s bright smiles and claims that everything was alright. But those smiles were gone, replaced with hurt, anger, and exhaustion as she filled in her side of their love story.

Going to college across the country was a temporary challenge that would pay off once he graduated and they were back together. But where he’d been on a straight and narrow path toward their dream, Cece struggled to reconcile the woman she was becoming with the girl who had agreed to something she didn’t quite understand. Their spring break trips to South Carolina were fun but another example of Jake’s unspoken expectation that she accommodate him and his career - that she would follow where he led. What he’d seen as a simple request for her to come to him, to remember that his college experience was different than hers, she’d taken as a glimpse into their future.

Jake regretted his bitter, sarcastic apology for failing her tests when he was a stupid kid. His hissed accusations that she could have talked to him instead of her friends, who dripped poison into her ears that he didn’t care about her if he wouldn’t do something so simple as go on a vacation of her choosing. “I’m sorry I didn’t take you to Florida. We can go when I get back if you - ”

“It’s not about Florida!” Cece yelled, hands flying to cover her face as she sat on her bed. “It was about doing something I wanted for a change - somethin’ that would make me happy, even if it was inconvenient for you.”

“Are you sayin’ I didn’t make you happy?”

“I’m sayin’ you never tried. You never had to choose between what you wanted and what I wanted. And part of that’s my fault because I stopped pushing. But I did that because I knew what you would say - that you would tell me how tired you were between classes and training. You wouldn’t be home for long over the summer because you would be training on different things and traveling. And you wanted to spend as much time together as possible, and it’d be easier for me to come to you.”

“It was easier - you just had to work around your classes - ”

“And my job and friends, coming home to see Daddy, and my plans. But those didn’t matter to you because you wanted to spend a week in a shitty hotel with your friends, getting drunk on the beach.”

“Which is what we probably would have done in Florida!”

“Maybe! But we’ll never know, will we?”

They’d taken a break after that, and the whiskey still burned in Jake's throat when they got back on camera. It was clear that Cece had been crying, and the hand holding her water glass shook when they talked through her move to Virginia. It hurt to hear that she’d had doubts about their future when he’d proposed but thought this could be the fresh start they’d needed. “But it felt like y’all were laughing at me behind my back that day at the beach when I found out you were deploying.”

“I didn’t know until I got there, and you were already… I didn’t know.”

“But you didn’t tell me when you found out. You kept it from me.”

“Would you have come?”

“I don’t know.”

“And that’s why I didn’t tell you,” he’d said, letting out a frustrated huff. “We’d already been apart five years, and the deployment woulda been one more excuse to keep us apart. You wouldn’ta come there.”

“I don’t know if I would or if I wouldn’t have because I wasn’t given that choice. You took that from me.”

“What were you gonna do?” Jake demanded. “You’d already quit your job and packed up. Our future was in Virginia, whether I was there or not.”

“I could have come back here,” Cece’d shot back, throwing her arms out and motioning to her house. “I coulda spent that time with Daddy. Or stayed in Austin.”

“I was only gonna be gone for seven months.”

“And you spent almost six lying to me.”

“We could have had six months together, but you left after two. You didn’t even give us a chance to figure it out before you left. You knew what we were going up against with me going into the Navy, and at the first sign of it being hard, you cut and ran.”

Her laugh was full of disbelief, bordering on hysterics. She’d moved so fast that her computer turned over, and Jake glimpsed her pacing as the camera pointed at the ceiling. “The first sign?” she muttered to herself. He waited as she walked through her house, setting the laptop on the kitchen counter as she rummaged in a cabinet.

“Cece.” But she ignored him, retrieving a bottle of whiskey and taking a swig. A grimace crossed her face as she swiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Baby - ”

“The first sign of it being hard?” she chuckled. “Maybe it was the first sign for you, but I had five years of hard. I didn’t know what we were getting into when you said you wanted to join the Navy, Jake. You looked into it and told me what our life would be like, and I just blindly trusted you. And that’s my fault. I didn’t think about the fact that my whole life would revolve around you and your career, and there was nothing I could do to change that.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” she shot back. “My hopes and wants and dreams didn’t matter because the minute you decided what you wanted, that was it. That’s what we were doing.”

“You make it sound like I forced you. You had a choice every step of the way,” he snapped.

“Between letting you steamroll me or losing you?” A sob broke her voice as she shook her head. “I’m sorry I was a stupid kid who thought loving you was enough.”

I love you too. And I always will. But I don’t know if that’s enough.

Those words had echoed through his head for years after she left, and he was afraid of hearing them again at that moment. “You say I steamrolled you,” he sighed, “but you never talked to me. You just stay quiet and smile and make me think everything’s okay until you're already out the goddamn door. I’m not a mind reader! You have to tell me what’s goin’ on with you, or I’m gonna assume things are fine.” They stared at one another for a long moment before he cleared his throat. “Were you pregnant after we… after the bar?”

“No.” Jake was relieved to hear her quick answer and nodded.

“Have you ever been pregnant with our…?”

“No, never.” Shoulders falling, he let his head hang while running a hand down his face. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear that - that the woman he loved hadn’t betrayed him to the level of his ex by keeping a kid from him. “No matter what was goin’ on with us, I would have told you if I was… if there’d been…”

Jake replayed their fight over and over in his head during his deployment. And when sleep evaded, he recalled the sight of her falling asleep in his arms, eyelashes dusting the tops of her cheeks as she murmured, “I love you, Farm Boy.” It was her face that he focused on when he pulled the ejection handle, as he screamed when his leg caught under his seat and the ligament tore. The promise of getting home to see her and meet baby Tyler, hugging his parents and Will and Ally kept him going when all he wanted to do was give into the pain and stop.

But he still hadn’t picked up the damn phone since getting back stateside. They’d promised each other time. Jake knew where he stood when it came to them. But she’d accused him of steamrolling her, and he was trying to be better. He wouldn’t let an injury manipulate her back into his arms.

Movement drew his eye. Will leaned out the driver’s side of the old beat-up farm truck, tapping the horn to get his attention. Jake pushed to his feet, fighting against his stiff, injured knee, and nearly fell on his ass as a result. For as much as he was making sure to keep up with his PT, there were still days when it felt like his body was going backward with its recovery. The docs told him to be patient - that he was on track to get back into his jet in a few months - but struggling down a flight of stairs without clinging to the railing for stability made him doubt that. Rather than sit at his desk and recover, he’d decided to burn the vacation hours nearing use or lose territory. A month in Magnolia was better than one watching his friends tiptoe around him.

“Your ears as busted as your knee?” Will asked, pulling to a stop. Jake flipped him the bird, carefully putting weight on his leg. The last thing he wanted was for it to give out in front of his big brother. “Storm’s comin’ in, and Mama’s got an errand she wants you to run.”

“Can’t you do it?” Jake sighed, hobbling toward Starlight and turning his back to the truck, hiding the wince of pain. He’d gone too long without taking his meds.

“Nope. Need a hand there, old man?” Ignoring him, Jake retrieved the saddle he’d removed, wishing his brother would leave. Mounting would be painful enough without an audience. He’d overdone it that morning with chores. When his physical therapist told him moving would help his recovery, he probably didn’t mean getting a couple hundred cows into their milking bays. “Happy to ride her back if you wanna take the truck.”

“I’m fine.”

“Suit yourself. Don’t get caught in the rain,” Will said, glancing back at the gathering clouds while pulling away. After checking the girth strap and saddle were secure, Jake grabbed the hackmore and stroked Star’s muzzle. She pressed into his hands, almost knocking him off his feet, and he chuckled. Once she was situated, he took a steeling breath while patting her neck and moving to her side. Taking the reins in his left hand, he grasped her mane and used his right to turn the stirrup toward him. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he lifted his left leg. His muscles shook with the effort, knee refusing to bend enough to slip his boot into the stirrup. Dropping his foot back to the ground, he cursed under his breath. For someone who’d ridden since before he could walk, it was embarrassing not to be able to mount a horse.

For fuck’s sake, he’d ridden Broncos bareback for a year when he was 16 before taking a nasty fall and breaking his collarbone. Shortly after, Mama ended that particular hobby, offering to let him barrel race instead. Jake declined.

Gritting his teeth, he tried again, the tip of his boot grazing Star’s side but not slipping into place. After failing for a third time, he lowered his head, the brim of his hat grazing the horse’s shoulder, and forced himself to take a deep breath. Another clap of thunder boomed, and Jake spotted a sheet of rain moving in from the west. Cursing again, he shifted to Star’s right side. Holding the reins in his right hand felt awkward, fingers twined in her mane when he carefully lifted his right leg, hesitantly putting his full weight on the left. When it buckled, he quickly dropped his foot and steadied himself. “I’m not fuckin’ walking back,” Jake grunted, looking around for something that would serve as a mounting block. He felt a slight twinge of regret for letting his pride get in the way of taking the truck. Frustration with his body not working the way he wanted it to quickly overrode it.

If he couldn’t mount his damn horse, how the hell was he supposed to climb the ladder into his fucking jet?

Tightening his grip on her mane, Jake took a deep breath. His bum knee only needed to hold long enough to settle his foot in the stirrup. Starlight nickered, ears flicking as she shifted with another boom of thunder. “I know, girl,” he muttered. “Just hold still for me.” Forcing himself to take a few even breaths, he adjusted the stirrup. He’d need to move fast - the balancing exercises the PT gave him were still a struggle, and the last thing he wanted to do was fall on his ass. Mentally counting down, Jake gritted his teeth, gripping the handful of mane and horn tightly. Quickly, he lifted his right leg and jammed it onto the stirrup, feeling it hit the heel of his boot, and stood, swinging his left leg over her hindquarters. Star started as he dropped heavily into the saddle, settling when he gave the reins a quick tug. Grinning to himself, he managed to get his left foot situated and adjusted his seat before taking off his hat and rubbing his sleeve to his forehead.

Loosening the reins, Jake pressed his heels into her side to get her moving. “Ready to beat the storm home?” he asked, chuckling when she tossed her head. Taking that as an affirmative, he gave Star her head and kicked her into a gallop. Leaning forward in the tack, he pushed onto his feet to give her more room, ignoring his throbbing knee. His hand flew up to keep his hat in place, and Jake couldn’t keep the whoop of joy from bursting out.

As much as he loved that moment of anticipation before the catapult shot his jet off the carrier, nothing could compare to riding under the open Texas sky.

When they neared the barn, Jake reluctantly reined her in. Star wasn’t happy as she was forced into a trot - at six years old, she was relatively new to working and still high-spirited. A few feet from the barn, he felt her muscles bunch and watched her ears flick back, tail swishing. She started dancing and hopped, and he quickly tugged the left rein, forcing Star to turn in a circle to keep her from bucking. Getting thrown in the field, where the grass would mostly cushion his fall, was one thing, but he sure as hell didn’t want to hit the hard-packed dirt and have to explain to the flight surgeon why his return to duty had to be pushed back.

“You got her?” Mama asked, stepping out of one of the stalls. Jake didn’t take his eyes off Star and nodded. “Watch your uncle,” Mama said, and he shot a glance over to see five-month-old Tyler watching him from the pack-and-play everyone fondly called the baby jail. Since Ally had gone back to work - chomping at the bit to get back to taking care of her large animal vet practice after Will managed to talk her into taking four months off - Ty spent days being passed around the Seresins at home. Having been relegated to driving the truck so Will could pitch hay and Pops could check the machinery before the morning milking, Jake spent a lot of time with his nephew sleeping in his car seat beside him.

Starlight settled with an annoyed stop of her foot, and he took the opportunity to dismount quickly. His left knee buckled when his foot hit the ground, but he stayed upright. Patting the mare’s neck, he flicked the reins over her head and led her to her stall. “Will said you needed me to run an errand?” he said, glancing at Mama. He caught her narrowed-eyed examination of his limp and forced himself to ignore it. Working quickly to remove the tack, he murmured an ‘excuse me’ while moving past her to put it away.

“Don’t worry about brushin’ her - I’ll get it. I need you to run to the grocery store for me.” Biting back a groan, he turned to face her.

“Can’t Will do it?”

“No, I’m asking you.” The stern look she pinned him was so familiar that he felt like a kid again. For the two weeks he’d been home, Jake was reluctant to leave the farm. Will dragged him to Mickey’s one night for a late toast to him becoming a father, and he’d made a few runs to the feed store with Pops, but he hated how people watched him. The way they stopped him, asking why he was home, for how long, and why he was limping. Betty Roberts had quickly turned away when he glared at her, remembering her cruel words to Cece those few months ago. Hell, even the attention he got from the women in town was annoying. The last thing he wanted to do was flirt with someone who’d grown up seeing him in love with Cece and was taking advantage of the fact that she was away to try and get his attention.

And if he got one more damn question about his ex.

The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Shayla. After posting his video, she started losing brand deals, and companies moved away from working with her. While he hadn’t set out intending to hurt her career, Jake wasn’t upset to see it happen. If he and Cece were facing backlash in their jobs, Shayla sure as hell deserved to go down as well. He wasn’t keeping tabs on her, but he’d overheard a loudly whispered conversation at the gas station about her seeing a minor league basketball player. Jake wished the man all the luck in the world - he’d need it to be with a conniving witch like her.

“There’s a list on the fridge.”

“Can I take Ty with me?” he asked, grinning as he dusted his hands on his jeans and walked over to lift his nephew from the jail. The baby gave him a gummy smile as Jake kissed his chubby cheek and settled him in the crook of his arm.

“Ally’s on her way to get him.” Sighing, he kissed Ty again and passed him into Mama’s outstretched arms. Even with two weeks left on leave, Jake dreaded going home and not seeing the little guy every day. He’d need to be better about coming home and seeing the family.

“Call me if you think of anything else you need,” Jake said after a beat. Mama just nodded and bounced her grandson on her hip, tapping his nose.

“Might check with Ally to see if she needs you to pick up some diapers.” Nodding, he turned and made his way back to the house, sipping a coffee while perusing the shopping list. His eyebrows knit together as he read the random list and walked to the pantry to double-check that the canister of coffee was still mostly full - he’d just opened it a few days ago.

“What’re you still doin’ here?” a voice asked, and Jake glanced up to see his sister-in-law frowning at him. “Didn’t Mama tell you to go to the store?”

“I’m on my way. You need anything?”

“Yeah, your ass outta here,” she scoffed, not meeting his gaze as she looked around the kitchen, setting her paper cup from the new coffee shop down on the counter. “Where’s my baby?”

“The barn with Mama.” Smiling, she walked past him, not pausing as her hand smacked his arm. “Hurry up, Uncle Jakey.”

Rolling his eyes, he grabbed his boots from by the back door. The sooner he left, the sooner he could get home and relax.

The cart rattled annoyingly as Jake rounded the corner in the produce section. Mama wanted fresh corn for dinner, but the ears in the bin didn’t look good. The Adams farm stand was on the drive home, so he’d probably stop and grab some. After adding a package of strawberries to the cart, he moved into the dried goods section. Keeping his gaze on the list in hand, he ignored the whispers and side-eyed glances from the other patrons. Going down the coffee aisle, he scanned the shelves, reached for a can, and tossed it into the cart. Jake grabbed the handles and turned around, stopping in his tracks, breath catching in his throat.

“Oh.” Cece’s eyebrows shot up, her lips parting in surprise. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Jake struggled to get the word out around the lump in his throat, which came out half-strangled. “I thought - ”

“I didn’t - ” Their voices overlapped, and they fell silent, waiting for the other to speak. “You - ”

“When - ” It happened again. “You first.”

“I didn’t realize you were home,” Cece said after a moment, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Yeah. For a few weeks. When did you get back?”

“Last night. When - ”

“Where - ” He smiled at her nervous laugh, and she motioned for him to go. “Where were you?”

The corners of her eyes crinkled with her blinding smile. “New York. I stayed a few days in the city on my way back from Paris.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I think I ate my weight in macarons while I was there.”

“Well, you look great.” And she did. The dark circles under her eyes were gone, and she seemed more contented…. happier, and confident. A cute pink flush colored her cheeks, and he caught her appreciative look at his hat and how his t-shirt clung to his arms.

“You too. Everything went okay with…?” Concern clouded Cece's face, and he forced himself to stand straight, ignoring the twinge in his knee.

“It was rough, but everyone got back in one piece.”

“Good.” Something flickered in her eyes, and he watched her lift a coffee cup from the new shop to her lips, her gaze flicking to the shelves. Her tongue darted out to catch a stray drop, and his grip on the handles tightened. “Have you been home long?”

“From the mission or in Magnolia?”

“Both.”

“I’ve been here about two weeks, but I got back stateside about a month and a half ago. Are you, uh… are you gonna be here for a while, or just passin’ through?” Movement over her shoulder caught his attention. A woman pushed her cart toward them, openly staring. Jake shifted his cart in front of Cece’s before moving back to her side. Cece’s eyes flitted toward the woman, and she waited until she was gone before shrugging.

“I’m gonna be here a while. Got some stuff I need to take care of before hitting the road again.”

“Where are you heading to next?” A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she shrugged.

“I’ve got a couple of places in mind.” The hint of mischief in her eyes had Jake shoving his hands into his pockets to keep from reaching for her. It felt like ages since he’d seen that look.

“Have dinner with me.” The request was out of his mouth before his brain caught up. But Cece just smiled and shook her head.

“I already told Ally that I’ve got plans tonight.” His flicker of worry that she might be meeting up with the firefighter was quickly stifled when she added, “Lucy made me promise to come.”

“Tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there for breakfast.”

“Great - have dinner with me. I wanna hear about everywhere you’ve been.” While his palm itched to curve around her cheek and kiss away that indecisive look on her face, Jake contented himself with reaching for her hand. Catching her fingers, he squeezed lightly. “Please, Cupcake?”

Her gaze focused over his shoulder, and he turned to see the woman from before standing at the end of the aisle, talking to someone else as they both stared. Cece watched them when he turned back, and her eyes only moved to him when he stroked his thumb along her finger. It took a moment for him to realize it was her empty ring finger, where his engagement ring had once sat. “Alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I wanna hear how you’ve been, too.” Gently shaking off his hold, Cece reached up and flicked the brim of his hat. “It’s good to see you, Farm Boy.” It took all of Jake’s strength and discipline not to catch her wrist and pull her into his arms to kiss that smirk from her lips. “See you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

Though he could feel the stares as he finished his shopping, Jake didn’t care. The only thing that mattered were those fleeting glimpses of Cece in the aisles. Whenever they caught sight of one another, she rolled her eyes and smiled. Unsure of where she was, he tried his best not to limp. Too soon, he finished and headed to the checkout lines. When he stepped outside, the rain was coming down. The storm finally caught up with them. Ducking his head, he hurried across the parking lot and tossed his bags into the truck backseat. His shirt was damp and sticking to his skin, and water dripped from his hat when he finally got in after returning his cart. But instead of pulling out, he waited.

For ten minutes, he kept his eyes trained on the front doors and was finally rewarded with the sight of Cece stepping outside. His hand gripped the door handle when an older man walked up behind her and tapped her shoulder. Jake recognized him from the firehouse - one of her daddy’s friends. But just as his foot hit the ground, he watched Cece shake her head and reach into her purse, pulling out an umbrella. Smiling, she stepped out from under the store awning and made her way to her SUV while the man headed in the opposite direction.

Jake hesitated before shutting his door, watching Cece quickly load her car and return her cart. He couldn’t help but grin when she took her umbrella down and strolled back to her car, heedless of the pounding rain.

His girl always enjoyed a good storm.

With the chores done and dinner finished, the Seresins went their separate ways. Will, Ally, and Ty were back at the foreman’s house, and Mama and Pops had decided to go into town for an ice cream. Jake declined their invitation, knowing he was getting a bit soft around the middle already with all the homecooked meals and strict orders to stay away from the gym until he was medically cleared. Instead, he saddled up one of the new geldings and went for a ride since the rain had blown through.

Back under his tree, Jake gritted his teeth as he lay down, left knee bent and heel pressing into the dirt. It ached as he held the position for six seconds before relaxing for thirty and repeating. His physical therapist told him to do the exercises three times a day, and he hated doing them in front of his parents. He could see the worry in Mama’s eyes anytime she saw a flicker of pain in his face. Pops was kind enough to ignore it but would make sure that he took it easy on chores.

If he was ever going to get back in his damn jet, he needed to push through the pain. He refused to be med-boarded out because of an ejection gone wrong.

After twelve reps, he stretched his leg out, a moan escaping as his knee straightened. Letting gravity press it straight, he closed his eyes and knitted his fingers over his stomach. He could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his knee and sweat beading on his forehead. Blowing a breath through pursed lips, he let his knee bend slightly and banged his head back on the grass. “Fuck,” he huffed, knowing he needed to hold the position for at least twenty minutes.

One of the worst parts about the exercise was that it made Jake stop. While he was moving, pushing away the memories of the mission and his nightmares was easy. But being forced to lie still allowed his mind to wander. To distract himself, he started running through the NATOPs for his jet, making him think about his friends. They were probably getting together at the Hard Deck for a drink and cursing him for not replying to their texts. Coyote had called him two days ago just to make sure he was still alive.

While he appreciated them checking in, Jake couldn’t help but feel jealous that they could still fly while he was grounded indefinitely. As happy as he was to take the SAM to ensure Rooster didn’t get shot down in hostile territory for the second time in as many years, it was still hard to contemplate that he might never feel the thrill of pulling G’s again. The roar of the engine and his seat rattling underneath him. The wind in his hair while standing on the deck of a carrier.

So as much as the exercises hurt, he’d do them every goddamn day to make sure he could get back up in the air. Gritting his teeth, he forced his knee straight again.

Grunting, he stared at the darkening sky. The crickets were loud, and the fireflies started flickering in the fields. A smile tugged at his mouth as he remembered running through them with Will and Cece, scooping up the bugs in jars Mama put aside for them, and wondered if Ty would do the same when he was a bit older.

If he’d have siblings or cousins to help him with the hunt.

A stab of regret hit him, and Jake couldn’t help but think about the baby that never was. If she hadn’t lied, he would have been getting ready for his little one to be born. The phantom weight of a baby on his chest was painful, and he cleared his throat. Whenever he thought of them, he’d always figured on having a son - after all, there hadn’t been a Seresin girl in a couple of generations. By now, the nursery would be finished, and he’d be so ready for the little man to arrive. But when he imagined the mother of his child, it wasn’t Shayla that he saw. He could picture Cece big with their child, teasing him as he catered to her every whim. She wouldn’t lift a finger while he was around to do it for her.

Of all the things that bitch had done to him, going after Cece and giving him the hope of being a father was the worst.

The sound of a car broke the quiet, and he lifted his head to see the farm truck getting closer. The gelding pulled at his rope, and Jake quickly glanced over to make sure he wouldn’t bolt. Will would probably die laughing if his horse ran and make him walk back. But when the truck pulled to a stop, it wasn’t his brother who got out and slammed the door.

Cece circled the truck and stared down at him, arms crossed over her chest. Jake lurched to his feet, hissing in pain when his bad knee protested the quick movement. “Hey.” His smile dropped when he saw tears shining in her eyes. “Honey?” he said softly. “Everything okay?” Her shoulders rose and fell as she tried to control her breathing, nostrils flaring as she stared at him. The tall grass licked her calves as she stormed toward him, fists clenched at her sides. “Hey, talk to me, Cece,” Jake pleaded while reaching for her.

Wordlessly, she shoved him. Surprised, he stumbled backward but managed to keep his feet. But then she shoved again, moving with him and pushing every time he stepped back. “Hey!” Jake snapped, catching her wrists. She quickly ripped her hands away and pushed harder, a grunt forcing itself out between her clenched teeth. His boot caught on a rock, forcing him off balance, and her next shove sent him sprawling. “What the fuck?” he demanded, pushing up onto his elbows. His back ached and his ass hurt from the fall. A burning sensation had him lifting his right arm to see a line of blood making a trail from his elbow toward his wrist. But Cece just glared down at him, hands planted on her hips. “Jesus Christ, Julie - what the hell was that about?”

“‘It was rough’?” she hissed. “It was ROUGH?”

“What’re you talking about?” Jake snapped, matching her glare with one of his own.

“How bad was it?” Cece demanded.

“How bad was what?” The noise she made was a mix of a groan and a scream. Spinning on her heel, she tugged at her hair and stomped away from him. Carefully, Jake got to his feet, trying not to bend his left knee. Cece turned to watch him, and he eyed her wearily. “You shove me again, and you’re comin’ down with me,” he cautioned. The look she gave him was so far removed from the teasing ones she’d give when they were kids and later teens, wrestling out in the field. He was pretty sure dragging her down with him wouldn’t end with a laughing kiss as he pinned her. More than likely, it’d end with an ‘accidental’ graze of her knee to his balls. “Baby, talk to me.”

“Why? So you can lie to me again?”

“What did I lie to you about?”

“Everyone got home in one piece?” It took a moment for her words to register, and he shook his head when he realized she was talking about the mission.

“That’s not a lie. We all got home.”

“What happened to you?” A cold sweat broke out on his brow as he remembered how it felt when the SAM hit his tail, splitting the jet and sending him into a spin. How disorienting it was, unable to tell the difference between the stars and the ground. Bitchin’ Betty yelling at him to eject as sensors blared. Rooster screaming at him to get out.

“I’m fine.” Even to his ears, the words sounded hollow. He’d said them so often since getting home they’d almost lost their meaning. Angrily brushing the tears from her face, Cece stalked toward him. Her hands lifted to shove him again, and Jake reacted. His arms wrapped around her waist, tugging so their chests collided. Momentum threw them off balance, and he sat heavily, grunting while taking the brunt of the fall. Cece’s knee brushed his inner thigh, and he clenched automatically, bracing for the pain of a knee to the balls.

“Let go of me!” she demanded, pushing against his chest. But he ignored her, rolling so she lay under him, her thighs cradling his hips. Catching the hands pushing against him, Jake drew them over her head, wrapping his fingers around her forearms and pinning her to the ground.

“Told ya you’d be goin’ down with me if you pushed me again,” he teased, his laugh turning into a bitten-back moan when Cece planted her feet and lifted her hips to try and throw him off.

“Get off me, Seresin!”

“Not until you tell me what’s wrong, Julie Louise Ryan.” The use of her full name had her glaring at him again, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

“Fuck you, Jacob Thomas.”

“I’d love nothin’ more, baby, but only after you tell me what’s wrong.” She struggled against him but, even injured, he had more weight and strength on his side. With one final buck against him, she sagged into the grass, breathing heavily.

“You lied to me. Again.” The accusation came out a half sob, and Jake’s heart broke to see her chin wobble.

“I didn’t lie to you, honey. I’m right here. I’m okay.”

“You got hurt.”

“I did.”

“You didn’t tell me.” The pain in Cece’s eyes was unbearable, especially knowing he caused it. Clearing his throat against the tight feeling, he nodded.

“I didn’t want you to worry.” Letting go of one of her arms, he wiped away her tears. His palm curved around her jaw, thumb gently tugging her lower lip free of the teeth digging into it. “I’m alright and gettin’ better every day.”

“What happened?” Her breath was hot against his face. And, while the mission was classified, it was hard to keep the truth from the woman he loved.

“Bad ejection,” he said simply and felt her breath catch. Watched her pulse flutter in her throat. “Tore my ACL and had to have surgery.” Her free hand curled around the back of his sweaty neck, fingers sliding into his hair. Nails lightly scraped his scalp, and his eyes drooped. Shifting, he let go of her other arm, bracing his hand by her head.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“‘M sorry, Cupcake,” he murmured. Dipping his head, he brushed the tips of their noses. Cece’s eyes closed as she turned away from him. Denied her lips, he kissed the hinge of her jaw and throat, switching to the other side when she rolled her head. The unmistakable feeling of her hips grinding against him and knees bracketing his side had him chuckling against her skin. “I love you, baby.” The fingers in his hair tightened, tugging cruelly as Cece took advantage of his distraction to flip them. Yelping, he covered her hand with his, trying to disentangle it as she straddled his hips.

Leaning down, she kissed Jake’s forehead before letting go of his hair and bracing her hands on his chest, scrambling to her feet before he could catch her. Towering over him, she glared and shook her head, swiping at the tears coating her cheeks. Her voice cracked when she said, “You don’t get to die on me, too, Farm Boy.”

“Julie - ”

“Save it,” she snapped, turning on her heel and walking away. He tried to catch her ankle but missed. But rather than returning to the truck, she was going toward the gelding.

“Hey,” he called, struggling to his feet. She was faster, quickly undoing the simple knot he’d secured the lead rope with. “What’re you doin’?” Jake demanded as she gathered the reins in one hand and hoisted herself into the saddle he hadn’t removed. His jeans, already tight, felt a bit more snug after that display.

Jake had forgotten just how gorgeous Cece was when she rode.

“Stop over doing it before you put yourself back in the damn hospital,” she scowled.

“Fine. Get down, and I’ll ride back.” But instead, she ignored him and wheeled the horse around, kicking it into a run.

“Keys are in the ignition!” Cece called over her shoulder while standing up in the stirrups. Jake was treated to the beautiful view of her ass as they started to run across the field back to the barn, hair streaming behind her.

“God damn,” he muttered to himself, finally tearing his gaze away. Scrubbing a hand through his hair, he retrieved his hat before limping his way to the truck. Just like she’d promised, the keys swayed from the ignition when he got in. But the envelope with his name on it sitting in the passenger seat caught his attention. Frowning, he opened it and saw a stack of postcards.

With the last few rays of sunlight, Jake picked up the first one and saw it was a picture of the Grand Canyon. Smirking, he flipped it over and read Cece’s loopy handwriting.

Farm Boy,

I’m going on the adventure we always talked about. It’s scary to think about doing it alone, but it’s a good scary. I feel like I’ve been waiting around for my life to start, and I’m just tired of waiting for it. I think… I know that I need this. I hate that we’re fighting and that I won’t get to talk to you soon, so I figured this might be a way to talk to you without actually talking.

It’s probably stupid, and I might forget to do this halfway through. But for now, hello from the Grand Canyon!

I love you even when I’m mad at you. And isn’t that what matters?

Cece

Will was in the barn brushing down the gelding when Jake reached the house, a teasing smirk on his mouth. “Good ride?” he asked and laughed when he got the finger in response. Mama and Pops were back, sharing their nightly cup of tea. Cece’s car was long gone. After saying goodnight to his parents, he went upstairs and forced himself to shower instead of retreating to his room.

Hair still damp, he crawled into bed with the stack of postcards and started reading.

Gripping the railing, Jake slowly made his way downstairs the following morning. He was tired after staying up late and waking up with a nightmare around two. It always sucked to dream about the mission, and usually took him a couple hours to calm back down enough to sleep. Normally, he dozed for a few more minutes before his alarm went off for chores. But last night, he’d gotten through a few more postcards and woken with them on his chest, having fallen back asleep reading.

The smell of something sweet mixed with coffee and laughter in the kitchen. Following his nose, he paused in the doorway at a sight that made his heart skip a beat. Cece leaned against the counter, Tyler sleeping on her chest as she chatted with Ally. Her hand spanned the little guy’s back, her chin resting on his head as his fingers curled around her t-shirt neck. “Look who finally decided to join us,” Will said, startling Jake. He hadn’t heard his brother come up behind him and wasn’t prepared for the shove to the middle of his back, forcing him into the room. This time, he kept his balance and spun to face his brother. With decades of experience, Will dodged Jake’s attempt to get him into a headlock, quickly batting away his arms.

“Boys!” Pops snapped. “Knock it off.”

“Yes, sir,” the Seresin boys chorused. The minute Pops turned back to his conversation with Mama at the kitchen table, Jake smacked the back of Will’s head and moved toward the coffee pot. Glancing at Cece, he fought to smile when she rolled her eyes at him. Her lips pressed to Ty’s head, attempting to hide her smirk, and he barely avoided overfilling his mug.

Using his nephew as an excuse to get closer, Jake’s hand covered Cece’s on Ty’s back, and he leaned down to kiss the baby’s head. Cece’s shoulder pressed against his chest, and it took all of his willpower not to turn and kiss her, too. “Mornin’ buddy. Ready to go out with Uncle Jake?”

“You’ve had your turn. He’s hanging out with Aunt Julie this morning,” she said, digging her elbow into his stomach. Without thinking, he pinched her side playfully. Mock glaring, Cece hip-checked him and used her free hand to flick his cheek. “Go away. I’m soaking up baby cuddles.”

“Stop being gross around my son,” Ally huffed, thrusting a hand between them and pushing Jake away.

“You’re supposed to take my side since you’re my sister,” he grumbled, sipping his black coffee.

“Yeah, well, I like her more,” Ally smirked. “She brings me cinnamon rolls. You just annoy me.”

“Cinnamon rolls?”

“They’ll be out of the oven in a few minutes,” Cece said, glancing over at the stove timer before sipping her coffee. She quickly dropped it back onto the counter when Ty squirmed, his little face scrunching as he rubbed against her collarbone. Bouncing him gently, her eyes shot to Ally, who sighed and glanced at her watch.

“Yup, about that time.” Reluctantly, Cece handed Ty over as he started to cry, a pitiful sound that had every adult in the kitchen stopping. Will was quickly at their side, his arm around Ally’s shoulders as he stared down at his son.

“Mornin’, kiddo,” he sighed, cupping his hand to the baby’s head as he looked at his wife. “Want me to take him while you get settled?” She shook her head.

“Mind grabbing the bag? He’ll need a change after.” Nodding, Will pecked Ally’s cheek and walked toward the front door, where the baby bag was stashed. “Save me a roll?” she asked, turning to Cece.

“Extra frosting.”

“And that’s why I love you more.” Throwing a wink at Jake, Ally made her way upstairs, smiling when Will walked behind her with his hand steady on her back. Jake felt a wave of envy and tried to tamp it down. His gaze drifted to Cece, who didn’t seem to realize - or mind - that she was leaning against him. Just a little shift, and she’d be tucked under his arm. Setting his coffee mug on the counter behind her, his thumb grazed her back and stroked lightly. Her eyes swung to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“Morning,” she said softly.

“Mornin’.” His eyes dropped to her mouth as his hand slid along her back to curl around her hip. It’d only take a slight tug and a dip of his head for him to taste the sweetened coffee on her lips. “You sleep well?” Her shoulder lifted, hip pressing further into his grip as she shifted.

“It’s good to be home.”

“You’ve been gone a lot. Already got through a couple of your postcards.” Pink dusted her cheeks as Cece bit her lower lip.

“I know it was stupid but - ”

“Not stupid. I’m glad you wrote me.”

“I didn’t think I’d have to face you while you read them,” she admitted. “Was gonna mail them all at once, but when I saw you were back home…”

“You decided to give them to me after stealing my horse?” Mischief shone in her eyes, and she opened her mouth to reply when a beeping interrupted them.

“It smells good, Julie,” Pops called from the kitchen table, his eyes darting over to where they stood too close. A smile tugged at his mouth, and Jake saw Mama lightly kick him under the table. Cece quickly pulled away from Jake and walked toward the oven, grabbing a pair of mitts from the counter and putting them on. When she opened the oven, the kitchen was flooded with the smell of cinnamon and sugar.

“Looks like they're done,” she announced, setting the large pan on the stovetop. “Just gonna let them cool a minute before frosting.” It was on the tip of Jake’s tongue to ask if she needed a hand, but instead, he stayed where he was, sipping his coffee and watching the love of his life move around the kitchen with a familiar comfort. There was no hesitation as she reached into the fridge to retrieve a container, and she located the drawers with spoons and the kitchen sheers immediately. A piping bag and jar were pulled from a sack on the counter, and Cece quickly spooned frosting into the bag.

“Need anything?” Mama asked, looking up from her coffee.

“Nope,” Cece replied, walking back to the stove and piping cream cheese frosting onto the rolls. Abandoning his coffee, Jake retrieved a stack of plates from the cabinet before standing beside her. Cece glanced at him, flicking her wrist with each swirl as she made quick work of the task. “Hand me the caramel sauce?” she asked after covering two rolls with extra frosting, presumably for Ally. Nodding, Jake retrieved the mason jar and twisted the top off. Swiping his thumb over the lid, he tasted the salted caramel and let out an appreciative hum. Try as she might to hide her smile, he caught her pressing her lips together. “Good?”

“I’d eat the whole damn jar.”

“You’ll have to fight Will for that one, but maybe I’ll make you your own if you don’t overdo it today.”

“Promise?” Rather than answer, she took the jar from him and shoved the piping bag into his hand. He squeeze a bit of the remaining frosting onto his finger, watching her drizzle the caramel over the cinnamon rolls before sticking his finger under the stream. “Hey!”

“Damn, honey, that’s good,” he chuckled, licking his finger clean of the sweet combination as she smacked his chest.

“Out of my kitchen, Farm Boy.”

“Pretty sure it’s Mama’s kitchen.”

“Keep it up, and you’ll be goin’ without.”

“You’d deprive a workin’ man of his breakfast?”

“Absolutely.” His loud laugh drew his parents' attention. “Make yourself useful and get me another cup of coffee, please.”

Over breakfast, Pops laid out the plan for the day. After milking, they needed to inspect one of the old buildings in the field the cows used for shade, and the truck needed an oil change. The horse stalls needed cleaning, and a yearling was getting picked up today to head to their new home. Ally and Will joined, Mama taking Tyler while they ate. One of the mares had come in from the corral favoring her leg, so Ally was going to do an x-ray to ensure nothing was wrong since she’d been lame for a few days.

Jake half listened, more concerned with the feeling of Cece’s leg pressed against his under the table.

Too soon, they were up and moving, clearing the table in preparation for going their separate ways. The dregs of coffee were poured into thermoses before Mama started another pot, and Jake watched as Ally helped Cece wrap a long strip of fabric around her chest before sliding Ty into it. “Guess you’re really stealing my WSO,” he said, coming up behind her to look over her shoulder at Tyler.

“Told ya,” she shrugged, tickling the baby’s cheeks as he shrieked and kicked his legs. “Gonna go to the hen house and get the eggs before Auntie’s gotta go.” Looking over her shoulder, she seemed surprised at how close he was. “What’s a WSO?” she asked, her voice just a bit breathless.

“Weapons System Officer,” he replied. “The backseater for a pilot that does all the tech stuff so they can focus on flying.”

“Ah. The backseater you never wanted,” she nodded, remembering those long ago nights when he’d just started flight school.

“I’d have one if they were like this kid.” Reaching around her, he smoothed a hand over Tyler’s head. It was cover for him to get even closer and say softly, “‘M sorry about yesterday. We still on for dinner tonight?”

“Want me to make something?”

“No, let’s go out. I heard there’s a new Italian place. Unless you don’t want people…” Jake trailed off, feeling a spike of anxiety at the thought of Cece not wanting to be seen with him. But after two weeks of being the subject of town gossip, he was also weary of offering up more.

“Italian sounds good. Want me to come get you, or are you gonna borrow the truck?”

“I’ll take the truck. Seven good?” She smiled and nodded, eyes darting behind him. The collar of his shirt got tighter against his throat as Will dragged him backward.

“Let’s go, lover boy. Stop usin’ my son to flirt.” Cece’s laugh rang in his ears as he allowed himself to be towed backward. When he winked, she rolled her eyes and leaned down to kiss Tyler’s head.

True to her word, Cece was gone by the time Jake returned to the house for lunch. He helped himself to another cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll while Pops sliced tomatoes from Mama’s garden for their sandwiches. He’d kept his promise to take it easy on his knee, and spent some time on the couch icing it after eating, waiting for Ally to get back. Pops and Will were heading to the lumber store to get some boards for the new project while he was supposed to help with the horses.

It took some time to separate Dorrie from her foal, and angry whinnies and stomps filled the barn as the young horse made his displeasure known. Ty babbled from the baby jail, adding to the overall noise in the barn. Dorrie was a sweet mare and stood well when he held the halter so Ally could test the flex of her right foreleg. She’d arrived at the same time as the man picking up the yearling, so Mama took care of the sale while Jake was stuck being Ally’s tech. It was a bit painful to jog back and forth so Ally could study her gait, but it was good to push himself.

Jake felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket. He held the horse still and tried to keep the panel steady while Ally took an X-ray. Ideally, it was a three-person job, but she had another appointment to get to, and they couldn’t wait for Mama. After taking some images, she stood and held her hand out for the panel. “Alright, let’s get her back in the stall while I look at this. I think it’s just inflammation, but we’ll make sure.” Nodding, he loosened the lead rope tie and led Dorrie back into her stall. The foal was bucking in the corner, little hooves hitting the walls, but quickly settled down once Jake unclipped the rope. He’d be a fun one to work with, he mused - just a few months old and already about 12 hands tall, almost ready for weaning. He’d make a pretty show horse with a bit of training.

Coiling the rope around his hand, Jake stepped out of the stall and adjusted his hat. After checking that Ally didn’t need anything, he pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen, eyebrows shooting up to see it was a notification from TikTok.

Cece had posted.

It had been months since he’d opened the app. In a moment of weakness, he’d checked to see if she posted anything while he was deployed and ignored the thousands of likes and comments on his video. Unable to stomach it, he’d subscribed to her account and decided he wouldn’t open it again. His thumb itched to hit the notification and watch the first video she’d posted since all the shit went down. “You need me for anything right now?” he asked, glancing at Ally. She balanced Ty on her hip as she peered down at the screen, examining Dorrie’s leg.

“Nope.” He nodded, walking out of the barn to lean against the corral. Wiping his mouth, Jake hesitated before tapping his screen. It took a minute for the app to load, and he caught a glimpse of another video before Cece’s opened.

“Hey guys, it’s been a while.” And there she was, pouring water into a bowl and mixing it with something. She wore the shirt he’d seen her in yesterday. “I decided to take some time off after everything that happened in December and focus on myself. I’m not sure if I ever told y’all this, but I haven’t traveled much. So that’s what I did.” Clips of her at different places flashed on the screen, a soft song playing in the background. There were forests and coasts, plains and mountains. City skyscrapers and little towns. He recognized the sights from her postcards and wasn’t surprised to see Lucy pop up in a couple of the clips. “I also finished my pastry degree. Before I left Austin, I did one of the two externships I needed, and only had one more six-week externship to graduate. So I worked in a hotel pastry department for a little while and did some exploring.”

Pictures of her in a white chef coat spun by, mixed in with ones of her hanging out. His eyebrows knit together in confusion - there hadn’t been anything in her postcards about that. And a few of the places she showed looked familiar. Those were gone in a flash, replaced by shots of her on a plane. “But mostly, I just had fun, which has been something I’ve been missing over the last couple of years. I went on my first international flight and spent a couple of weeks in Europe, and can’t wait to get back.” A clip of her eating a macaron in front of the Eifel Tower made him smile. “I really needed to figure out what I wanted to do. For a while, I’ve been thinking about leaving my hometown. I only came home because Daddy was sick” - videos of Brian helping Cece bake played - “and as much as I appreciated getting that extra time with him, Daddy didn’t want me to stay here after he passed. So I used this trip to test out possible places I might like to live.”

Jake's heart raced as he stared at the screen, watching as the travel clips shifted to her kneading dough and rolling it out. Mixing sugar. And he realized she was making the cinnamon rolls they’d had that morning. “I love where I grew up, but it hasn’t been home for a while. So, as much as I appreciate my customers, I’m sad to say that I’ll be officially closing my business in its current location as I’ll be branching out.” The phone shook in his hand, and Jake felt sweat beading on his forehead. “There’s no exact timeline, but I’m headed out west.”

And there it was. A picture of Cece standing in front of a mural, grinning as she gestured to the giant letters spelling out GREETINGS FROM SAN DIEGO.

Jake laughed, clapping a hand to his mouth to stifle it as tears clouded his vision. Blinking them away, he turned up the volume to hear Cece as she cut the cinnamon rolls and placed them in the baking dish. “I’m so excited for this next chapter, and I hope you’ll tag along as this country girl tries out city living. As soon as I’m ready to take orders, you’ll be the first to know.” Her eyes lifted from the dish, and she stared directly into the camera, a slow smile gracing her lips. When the video started to loop, Jake sat down hard, dropping his head into his hands as he clicked the comments already in the thousands.

OH MY GOD YOU’RE BACK!

California! I’m so excited I’ll get to try your stuff now!

Okay, but what about Jake??? Isn’t that where he lives?????!!!!!!

The last one had over a hundred comments under it and two thousand likes. Shutting the app, Jake pulled up his contacts, thumb hovering over Cece’s name. But instead of tapping it, he locked his phone and got to his feet. Hurrying into the barn, he spotted Mama and Ally standing outside Dorrie’s stall. Both women looked up at him as he jogged toward them, their looks of concern at the tears on his cheek fading when they saw his broad grin. “I gotta go.”

“You know where the truck keys are,” Mama said.

“Tell Julie it’s about time,” Ally added. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask how long they’d known, but he resisted.

Dust kicked up under the tires as he tore down the driveway and skidded onto the road. Thankfully, no sheriffs were around as he sped through Magnolia, fighting against hitting the horn at anyone who slowed him down. Soon - but not soon enough - he was turning onto Cece’s road. Her SUV was parked under the carport.

His boots were loud on the concrete as he slammed the truck shut and flew up the few steps to her porch to pound on the door. The curtain twitched. A heartbeat later, the door flew open, and Cece stood before him. “Were you tryin’ to - ” Jake cut her off, cupping her face and tilting it up. His kiss was frantic, lips crushing against hers as he smiled and laughed. Her fingers gripped his shirt, and Jake was sure she could feel his racing heart. His hands moved to her hips, gently drawing her out of the house and into his arms. “Break it down?” Cece panted against his mouth when they finally broke apart to breathe. Her eyes slowly opened, lifting to meet his. Their second kiss was more gentle, and she sighed when his tongue traced the seam of her lips, opening to allow him to taste her tongue. When his hands dropped to her ass, hauling her closer, Cece laughed against his mouth and gently pushed him away. “We’re not giving my neighbors a show.”

Were he not injured, Jake would have picked her up and carried her into the house at that moment. But he satisfied himself by peppering her face with kisses until she giggled. “You’re comin’ to California?” Some of the joy in her eyes dimmed, and she gave him a hesitant look. Her hands trailed down his arms to tangle their fingers, pulling him into the house and kicking the door closed. As soon as it shut, one hand went into her hair, the other crossing her chest as though to protect herself. When Jake reached for her, she stopped him.

“I am. I… I did my externship in San Diego and really liked it there.”

“You did? You were there for six weeks? When?”

“While you were gone. I wanted to see if I liked it without you…” her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she tried to find the words. “Clouding my judgment.”

It hurt to hear that, but Jake knew it was a smart move. “You coulda stayed at my place.” A wry smile graced her lips when she shook her head.

“I needed a Farm Boy free trip to make my decision.” Teeth dug into her lower lip as Cece reached for his hands, squeezing gently. “Jake, I need you to…” She paused and took a deep breath, forehead dropping to his chest momentarily before her head lifted. Her eyes were guarded when she said, “I’m not moving there for you.” Hurt and fear that she was ending this before it began slammed into him. Jake stumbled back a step, but Cece’s grip on him was firm. “I needed to make that decision for myself, without you. I can’t move somewhere - start my life over again - for someone else. Again. It needs to be for me. I’m going out there because it’s what I want to do. Being with you isn’t the draw. But it’s certainly a perk.” Jake nodded, unable to get a sound out around the lump in his throat. Her brows drew together in concern, and she cupped his face, her thumb rasping on his stubbled cheek as she brushed away a tear. “I love you, Farm Boy.”

“I love you too, Cupcake,” he forced out after clearing his throat.

Time seemed to slow as they kissed, and Jake laughed when Cece lifted his Stetson from his head, tossing it toward the couch. Her hands tugged his shirt from his jeans before hooking in his belt buckle and pulling him toward her bedroom. A trail of clothes littered the floor, but neither seemed in a hurry as they took time to explore one another. Jake swallowed hard when Cece kissed the surgical scar on his left knee and ran her hands along his body in search of any other hurts. She trembled with anticipation as he kissed from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes, the featherlight brushes of his lips contrasting with the coarse feeling of his beard. On his way back up, his shoulders forced her thighs wide as he took her apart with deliberate care, reveling in the feeling of her hands tangled in his hair and the soft gasps and moans she let out.

Cece could see her arousal coating his mouth when she opened her eyes to see him smiling down at her and tasted herself on his tongue. Jake’s cock was hot and hard on the crease of her hip, and he shuddered when she lightly ran her nails down his spine. The tips of her fingers dug into the tense muscles of his lower back, forcing him to bite back a groan. Her touch felt so fucking good. Especially her leg lifting and curling around his hip. “Baby, I don’t have a condom,” he sighed, swallowing hard as his cock slid through her wet folds.

“In the drawer,” she replied, nipping his lip playfully. Jealousy shot through him at the idea of her having those, using them with someone else. It must have shown on his face because Cece laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Some farm boy fighter pilot came through Magnolia over Christmas and left before we could use them.”

“What an idiot,” Jake chuckled, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers.

Cece’s laugh was music to his ears as he reached into the drawer, her fingers following the trail of hair on his stomach as he rolled the condom on. The sweet sound was only a second to the gasping moan she let out when he pressed into her.

And, for the first time in a decade, Jake Seresin felt like he was home.

---------------------------------------

Author's Note: Oh man, this chapter was so fun and sad to write. Watching Twisters definitely helped to develop Cowboy Jake more, and I was so excited to write him getting back to his roots, and figuring out how to mix Hangman with Farm Boy. And to see how Cece grew. She has needed to leave her home for a long time, and needed to make her own decisions regarding her life.

And, while I said that this was the last chapter, I decided to break the epilogue off into a separate part since this chapter is already massive. Apologies for that 😅 I debating cutting parts but May yelled at me to leave it.

Read the Epilogue

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verefex · 4 months ago

Text

Kraken's Cove

Short story where a stowaway meets the kraken himself, who turns out to be less scary than he initially thought.

Content warnings in the tags. Enjoy!

On a vessel cruising along the open seas, hid a stowaway. Tucked under a tarp in the dinghy that hung suspended by ropes and pulleys off the side of the traveling ship, a man rested quietly. After perusing the food, drink, and trinkets from the ship’s stores, he gathered up his haul in the small rowboat and hunkered down for the journey.

Swaying comfortably back and forth, suspended off the port side, Raphael, as the stowaway was named, was quite used to this sort of life. Sneaking his way onto sailing vessels docked at ports, he made his living by stealing. It was dishonest work, he knew that. But as he would often say, “pay your debts with the topsail”, fleeing across the wide seas was the life he was forced to choose.

Seagulls cried overhead as the ship’s wooden hull creaked and cut through the waves, lofty sails billowing in the sea breeze. The sun shined brightly in the blue sky overhead, not a storm cloud in sight over the deep, open ocean; a sailor’s dream.

That is, until a deafening impact sound is heard against the ship’s hull.

Almost immediately, the crew sprung to full alert, scrambling on the deck to man the sails and cannons. Raphael threw the tarp off of himself and held fast to the rowboat’s sides, green eyes wide under his headband and dark, wavy hair.

“That’s my cue.” He muttered as the ship’s crew prepared for attack, completely unaware of their rowboat quickly but silently being lowered into the water by the pulleys.

Raphael was no stranger to close calls and narrow escapes, it was often how he departed from his seaward journeys. From borrowing dinghies to diving into the foamy waters below and swimming to shore, he reveled in the calmness that came with the long journey. But for now, he was not about to go down with the ship.

“Kraken! It’s the kraken!” The voice of the captain bellowed from the decks. Raphael paused, holding fast to the ropes that suspended the rowboat over the disturbed waters below.

Now, it was common knowledge that sailors often told tall tales of sea monsters. Months at sea will do things to ya, was the common response, coupled with the solemn shake of the head. Ships went missing all the time, though that didn’t necessarily mean they were sunken by a leviathan.

And yet, as Raphael peeked over the side of the boat, staring deep below the waves and foam, he spied what could be described as nothing but an enormous snake.

A tentacle.

In a panic, Raphael grasped the ropes and shimmied the boat back up towards the deck, trying to get as far away from the water as possible. Though, as he approached the railing, his cover was nearly blown as a crew mate leaned over and pointed at the gargantuan form below the surface.

“Shit…” the stowaway hissed as he ducked back under the tarp just in time. His heart raced as he realized he was trapped between the deck of the ship and the watery grave just below.

The ship rocked suddenly, and the deck erupted in shouts as the monster’s tentacles surfaced, bright blue appendages thicker than a man was tall. Either side of the ship was grasped suddenly, one on each side, snaking upwards slowly.

Raphael peeked out from the tarp, unable to believe his eyes. The hull creaked and groaned under the weight of the massive tentacle that slithered along the surface, almost meticulously, like it was feeling around for something.

He was not about to stick around for this hellish leviathan to sink the ship. Such a giant creature would not be interested in a tiny rowboat, he wagered with little hope.

Two whacks from his cutlass, and the ropes were severed. Raphael held fast as the rowboat dropped off the side of the ship, plummeting to the ocean below. He landed with a painful splash that jolted his entire body, nearly stunning him for a moment.

The sounds of cannons above him startled him into scrambling along the seats and deploying the oars. He whipped the boat around and started rowing, watching as the enormous ship was dwarfed by another pair of tentacles rising out of the water below.

“Those old sea dogs were right, huh!” Raphael exclaimed as he rowed further and further away from the commotion of the fabled sea monster. As he had hoped, the leviathan busied itself with the ship, leaving him with another successful escape and quite a tale to tell once he reached shore.

However, as he rowed on, he grew quite tired of fighting the large waves with just two oars. He wasn’t sure if he had gotten anywhere by his own rowing, or if the currents and wind carried him. All he knew was the sailing ship was no longer in sight, and neither was any sign of a landmass.

With the sun still bright, the man grew weary, clad with only a black and white shirt, dark pants, and tall leather boots. He stowed the oars and covered himself with the tarp, shading his weathered skin from the sun as he sorted through his provisions.

“More than a week’s worth, so long as this thimble doesn’t sink.” Raphael said as he rationed the food and water that was already smuggled away for the ship’s journey. His only hope now was to find any sort of land or ship that would rescue him before his water depletes.

Since the act of rowing was tiresome and nearly useless against the waves, the stowaway, now captain of the dinghy, resumed the act of hunkering down under the tarp and letting the waves carry him wherever they may lead.

The rowboat drifted for hours, rocking this way and that, a tiny speck in the vast blue ocean. Thankfully the weather was calm and the temperature mild, though favorable conditions never lasted as long as you’d expect them to on the open ocean.

As the sun was nearing the horizon, painting the sky with orange and purple hues, Raphael uncovered himself and leaned back in the boat, taking small sips from his canteen and enjoying a rather unripe pear. He laughed to himself, thinking of how it’s possible that he was the only survivor from that ship, and they had no knowledge of him even being onboard.

As he finished off the core of the pear, Raphael felt an ominous rumble rattle his body. He grew tense and gripped the sides of the rowboat as he not only felt it, but heard it, somewhere deep under the waves. Something immense.

“Oh, no.” He said shakily as a cloud of bubbles erupted around the boat, a phenomenon that often occurred along with a large pod of whales preparing to surface. Raphael flung the oars out and rowed quickly away from the bubbling water, not about to let his dinghy be capsized.

The small boat did not get very far before something surfaced, not a whale or a tentacle, but a face.

A giant, human-like head surfaced before Raphael, as water poured down their dark blue-streaked skin. Bright yellow eyes peered at the castaway, set on a masculine face with long silvery-blue hair and an array of fin-like structures on either side of his head. A massive, towering head.

Raphael stared up in shock momentarily before letting out a terrified scream. First a kraken, now a giant? The odds were not in his favor today, though the oddities certainly were starting to pile up.

The giant, treading the water as he loomed over Raphael and his rowboat, tilted his head and let out a chuff, a rumbling puff of air. An enormous hand rose underneath the boat and lifted it in his palm just as wide as it was long.

The giant opened his lips and said ‘I mean you no harm’, but to Raphael’s human ears, all he heard was a deep, throaty rumble.

“Don’t eat me, don’t eat me!” Raphael merely shouted in response, huddling in his boat that was now captured by the steady hand of the giant. Enormous navy blue fingers with thick claws curved above his head, as wide as a tree.

The giant’s lips curved into a smile, yellow eyes glowing patiently. He held Raphael and his little boat in his right hand, lifted up and out of the water and closer to his enormous face.

‘I am not going to eat you.’ The giant growled. ‘It’s alright. You’re safe.’

“I-I don’t know what you’re saying… are you speaking? Can you understand me?” Raphael said from his captured boat. The man, dwarfed by the giant’s hand around him, stared quizzically at the giant’s glistening face.

‘Yes. Though you may not understand my words, I am speaking your language.’ The giant said calmly, closing his eyes as he nodded and mouthed his words in an exaggerated fashion. Raphael couldn’t help but notice the giant’s mouth was lined with sharp fangs, with a curiously buttery yellow interior.

Raphael started to feel a little more at ease in the ocean giant’s hand. He couldn’t understand why he wasn’t drowned or eaten yet, but the mere premise of being held captive by the towering man was unnerving.

“It must be giant monster day. First a kraken, then you? A giant? A… god?” Raphael said as he gestured to the enormous man.

The giant, named Sithero, let out an airy laugh as he leaned back and lifted the tiny man in his hand higher above the water, giving him a better view of the leviathan’s body. The same blue tentacles that wrapped around the ship rose out of the water around Sithero’s torso, slithering about and swirling the sea.

Raphael stared down for a second, leaning over the side of the boat from within Sithero’s palm. The rest of Sithero’s body began to surface, and the giant angled his hand in a way that the human within could observe the massive length of his tail.

“...You’re the kraken? What on earth… you’re like a mermaid, a giant one… a giant mer… man? I suppose?” The human exclaimed as his eyes trailed down the length of the kraken’s body. He was covered in fine blue scales of varying shades, with his belly and chest lighter in color. From the waist down, his body became elongated, ribbed with hard scutes. He was so large, in fact, that Raphael wondered if he could see the end of his tail at all.

‘I’m Sithero. What are you called?’ The kraken rumbled as he raised his other hand and pointed a clawed finger at the human in his palm.

“What, what’s that about? Me?” Raphael said shakily as the very large kraken pointed and rumbled something at him.

Sithero smiled calmly and pointed at himself. ‘Sithero.’ He growled, emphasizing each syllable before pointing to Raphael again.

“Sss… Slith. Slither. Sith?” The human said, twirling his hands around as he sounded out the guttural growls.

‘Sith… air… oh.’ The kraken hissed.

“Sithero…” Raphael said, and the giant nodded in approval.

“Okay, we’re getting somewhere. Oh, I’m Raphael.” The human said, feeling more comfortable as their strange conversation went on. “Gotta say, I did not expect to be talking to the kraken that, um, attacked our ship.” He said, avoiding to the fact that he was a stowaway, not that Sithero would really care.

‘The ship is fine. I was just saying hello.’ Sithero growled a deep laugh as he waved his other hand in a greeting motion.

“Hello?” Raphael said quietly, waving back. Sithero smiled and chuckled at his new tiny friend.

‘Where are you headed?’ Sithero asked, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing to the vast ocean.

“Uh, I got here by ship. Now I don’t quite know where I am, or frankly, what’s going to happen to me.” Raphael sighed, stretching his arms backwards.

‘I know a place. You can rest there, it’s getting too dark for humans.’ The kraken rumbled and nodded gently, bringing his other hand up and cupping Raphael and his boat.

“I don’t suppose you have it in you to carry me somewhere?” Raphael asked hopefully at the enormous creature, seeing a glimpse of his own reflection in his eerie yellow irises.

‘Yes. But you mustn’t panic.’ Sithero rumbled as he opened his mouth slightly and rubbed his bright-colored tongue along the edges of his teeth.

Raphael winced, leaning away from the giant’s mouth that was quite close now.

“Woah. Hey. We’re on a first-name basis now, you can’t eat me.” He said, clutching the sides of the rowboat.

‘That’s not my intention. Truthfully, you will drown unless I do this… so relax.’ Sithero growled as he angled his head backwards and pinched the boat between his fingers, gently tilting it towards his open mouth.

Raphael, upon seeing the enormous yellow mouth below him, immediately began to panic and flail wildly in the boat that was slowly tipping. “HEY! Stop, stop!!” He shouted, eyes wide at the sight of the kraken’s fanged jaws.

‘If you don’t stop flailing, I might actually bite you.’ The giant growled and tilted the boat upside-down above his open mouth.

Raphael, as nimble as he was, managed to wedge himself under the rowboat’s seats before it was completely tipped over. He wrapped his arms around the boards with just his legs dangling, whimpering as his provisions fell down onto the sea monster’s tongue.

“Cripes…” The man groaned as he gripped onto the board like his life depended on it.

Sithero blinked, expression blank as he closed his mouth, tasting the tiny crates and flasks that fell onto his tongue. He eyed Raphael one last time before gently tipping the boat back upright.

‘Alright. Plan B.’ He rumbled before angling the boat bow-first towards his mouth.

“Don’t… don’t you dare.” Raphael blurted as he righted himself in the bottom of the boat before being plunged into the kraken’s mouth.

The man screamed as the entire rowboat was taken in, sides banging against the monster’s teeth that encircled the cavernous jaws.

Sithero calmly wedged the boat inside, using the tip of his finger to push the stern just past his incisors, which closed together. Raphael was completely sealed inside, along with all of his belongings.

The air inside the giant’s mouth was humid, smelling of seawater. Raphael hunkered down in his little wooden boat, eyes wide as he took in the situation. Though the kraken’s mouth was shut tight, the interior of his mouth glowed a faint, soft yellow. It was quite beautiful, Raphael found himself thinking, as the ridges of Sithero’s palate above him were dotted with bioluminescent photophores.

“Quit messin’ with me… are you gonna eat me or not?” Raphael shouted from within the giant’s mouth, gripping onto the boat as if it was about to rock back towards Sithero’s gullet.

Instead, he was rocked forwards as the kraken dove under the waves. The leviathan took his little friend along, safely sealed in the air pocket in his mouth. His enormous body arched past the waves as the end of his tail raised above the water, then was gone.

Sithero kept Raphael in his jaws for the ride, traveling swift and deep. Though his movements were heavy, he leveled his head carefully to make the trip as comfortable as possible for the human. Deep rumbles of reassurance echoed in his spacious mouth, where Raphael sat hunkered down on top of the giant’s tongue.

Time went on, and Raphael started to relax as best as he could in the humid mouth of the kraken. He hadn’t been swallowed, and instead remained on Sithero’s tongue as the giant carried him into the depths.

“I suppose… this is necessary. I doubt I can hold my breath as long as you.” Raphael said as he laid back in the boat, staring up at Sithero’s upper palate.

Sithero, after a short while, came to an enormous submerged cave. His long body just barely fit through the entrance as he slipped inside, using his limbs to push along the rocky sides to propel his huge body swiftly, until emerging into a large chamber.

The kraken huffed as water dripped from his hair, dispelling droplets from his nostrils as his head and shoulders surfaced from the seawater onto a smooth stone surface in an air-filled cave. He leveled his head and opened his jaws, allowing Raphael to finally breathe in fresh air after being trapped inside.

“Ah, freedom!” The stowaway exclaimed as he stumbled along the boat, looking out from the giant’s teeth encircling him and his vessel.

Sithero rumbled in amusement as he pinched the end of the small boat between his thumb and forefinger and slid it and Raphael out of his mouth. He carefully placed it on the floor of the cave and yawned, stretching his arms and back as he arched his head back.

Raphael, still adjusting to the dim light of the cave, fumbled about in his boat, rocking the frame a few times to determine the stability of the surface. He was painfully aware of the fact that he was surrounded by damp rock, the sheer mass of the kraken’s body as it towered above him in the darkness.

Tentatively, the man swung his leg over the the side of the boat and planted it on the surface. He stood on both legs, glancing around slowly.

“So uh, where did you bring me? Y’know I’m not terribly fond of spelunking…” Raphael said as he stared up at the huge, glimmering figure above him.

Sithero’s eyes and photophores that dotted along his body glowed in the low light. The giant hummed as he reached out into the darkness, rummaging through piles of debris. He picked out a lantern delicately between his claws, handing it to Raphael, who took it into his hands.

“Ah, you’ve got a hoard of some sorts?” The man said as the lantern lit up to his surprise, illuminating the immediate area. His eyes widened as he was greeted with scattered remains of ships, masts as tall as trees with the sails still attached. They were carefully placed against the wall of the cave, each one laid out in all its splendor.

The man’s knees began to buckle at the sheer sight of so many shipwrecks, displayed like trophies in the kraken’s lair. Accompanying the masts were the ship’s figureheads, the intricate carvings of ladies and dragons and other mythical beasts that adorned the bow of sailing ships.

“So… I can only imagine how these all got here.” Raphael said rather quietly as he swung the lantern around, only to be greeted by the enormous face of Sithero, who was peering at the man curiously.

“Geeze, you’re huge.” The man whispered as he held the lantern up to the giant’s face, who was smiling softly.

‘I collect them, that’s all. Better here than rotting in the water.’ Sithero rumbled as he reached out and picked up a mermaid figurehead, gazing at it fondly.

“They are quite pretty… I bet there are some famous ships that wrecked here. You know the navy would kill to get their hands on these, right?” Raphael uttered as he set the lantern in his rowboat and rummaged through his damp provisions.

‘They’d kill me regardless. That’s why I disarm cannons and harpoons when I visit sailing ships.’ Sithero uttered as he flicked a detached cannon along the surface of the cave with his fingers.

“Ah, I can’t imagine those would do much damage to something as big as you.” The man said as he heard the heavy clang of iron.

Sithero laughed, a deep rumble that shook Raphael’s bones. ‘I don’t underestimate humans! You little things can pack a punch.’ He growled as he leaned in close to the wary man, who stiffened up. The kraken’s breath tousled his brown hair, which was slicked back with a green and white bandana.

“… You’re so big, though. I mean, look. Your tooth is bigger than my head!” Raphael said as he pointed at Sithero’s lips, where a canine poked out.

Sithero curled his lip up to reveal the full length of his canine, which shone brilliantly in the lantern’s light. ‘This is true. I could bite you in two with one snap.’ The kraken growled as he clicked his teeth together, which sent a shiver up Raphael’s spine as he glimpsed those white teeth flashing in his vision.

“You don’t… plan to eat me after all this, do you?” Raphael uttered, feeling absolutely minuscule in his little wooden boat underneath the giant’s gaze.

‘That depends, do you consider the ride in my mouth as being eaten? It’s the only way you’ll be able to exit this cave.’ The kraken grinned as he licked his lips with his yellow tongue.

“Hey, I really don’t want to go back in there. I know it’s what kept me from drowning, but…” Raphael sighed, glancing at his provisions soaked with the kraken’s saliva.

‘Feel free to try another way out.’ Sithero growled as he looked down at the man’s supplies. Curiously, the giant picked up Raphael in his boat and lifted it up to his eye.

“Hey, easy!” The man yelled as he was rocked by the momentum of being lifted.

‘Is your stuff ruined?’ Sithero asked, eyeing the cloth sacks on the bottom of the boat.

“That’s just my food… well, what’s left of it. The bread is probably all soggy, but as long as the rum is there… aha!” Raphael exclaimed as he produced a green glass bottle filled with spirits. The man popped the cork and took a swig straight from the bottle, sighing happily once he removed the glass from his lips.

‘Humans are always drinking that.’ Sithero chuckled, holding Raphael in his wooden boat.

“I suppose they don’t make bottles in your size. Good thing, too, cause I’d be swimmin’ in it.” Raphael laughed as he kicked back in the boat and continued drinking.

Sithero couldn’t help but smile as he cupped the boat in his palm, eyeing the human inside of it. The giant tilted his head, observing the interior of the rowboat, suddenly getting an idea.

‘Come here.’ He growled, using his other hand to pinch Raphael’s upper body between his thumb and forefinger. The man exclaimed as he was lifted out of the boat and placed directly onto Sithero’s palm, holding tight to his rum bottle.

The kraken placed the empty boat on the cave floor and turned his gaze to the human in his hands, suddenly feeling very warm at how small and delicate he looked, laid out on his palm, barely half the length of his finger.

Raphael sneered up at the giant, briefly attempting to stand up before flailing and falling backwards, spilling a little rum on himself.

“Gah… you big beast... I didn’t ask to be in yer hands!” Raphael blurted as he wiped the rum off his shirt, glancing up at the giant’s piercing gaze.

Sithero merely chuckled, rumbling deep in the back of his throat as his soft gaze took in the man’s form.

“Ah, to hell with it. You’re pretty nice, for a sea monster. Besides, if I’m gonna be eaten, I wanna be drunk.” The man grunted as he sipped his rum.

‘You look very relaxed.’ Sithero uttered as he held his hands steady, with one cupped under the other. The giant was mostly submerged, with just his upper body resting on the rocky cave floor, propped up by his elbows.

‘I’ve never held a human like this. It’s… nice.’ He rumbled, awed by the sight of Raphael leaning against the base of his fingers.

“Ya keep looking at me like I’m… a doll or somethin’. S’weird.” Raphael hiccuped from his lack of inhibition.

‘Don’t tell me you have a problem with the way I interact with tiny things such as yourself.’ Sithero laughed. ‘I’m aware that humans consider me to be frightening and dangerous, while I personally consider humans to be delightful. I think you should be grateful that I’m holding you this way instead of drowning you a thousand feet under the sea.’

Raphael blinked, staring blankly up at the rumbling giant. By now, he was able to understand the enormous kraken’s growling manner of speech. However, the alcohol was slowing his cognitive thinking more and more each passing minute, leading him to respond with a simple “Fair enough.”

Sithero smiled, regardless, and cupped his hand loosely around the human as he pulled his hefty body further onto the cave floor. Raphael grumbled as he was closed in by enormous fingers while the giant made himself more comfortable, turning onto his back and propping his body up against the cave walls.

The kraken sighed as he leaned back, leaving his long tail submerged in the dark ocean water while his upper body relaxed and cupped Raphael in his hand, which rested comfortably on top of his stomach.

Raphael, in drunken bliss, hummed as he was held by the giant. He laid back in Sithero’s hands, his head nestled neatly between the cracks of his fingers. The man sighed, feeling the warmth of skin underneath him, the rush of the giant’s breaths and gurgling insides.

“Hey, I forgot yer name. Sithy.” Raphael muttered through flushed cheeks, his rum nearly gone. “You’re pretty swell. I ain’t got a home or family or whatnot, so this is a nice treat… s’like I’m in a fancy rich bed. Heh heh.”

‘Sithy, huh. I kinda like that.’ The kraken chuckled. He then leaned forward and carefully plucked the nearly empty rum bottle from Raphael’s hands with the tips of his claws. ‘And, that’s enough for you.’

“Gimme that…” Raphael groaned as he reached for the bottle, which promptly disappeared in the giant’s mouth.

‘Hmm.’ Sithero rumbled as he rolled the open bottle on his tongue, spilling the contents out and onto his taste buds. ‘You made it seem so much tastier than this.’

“It IS tasty. Don’t guzzle my rum!” Raphael grumbled as he wobbled onto his legs and attempted to scale Sithero’s torso.

‘Careful.’ The giant growled as the drunken man ignored him, stumbling his way up the firm musculature of his abdomen. ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

“Gimme my bottle back…” Raphael slurred, clinging to the giant’s pectoral. The slope of the monstrous man’s chest proved difficult for the small, drunk human to navigate over.

Amused, Sithero leaned back all the way, laying flat on his back to allow Raphael to stumble along his body. With the bottle still in his mouth, Sithero tilted his head up and opened up slightly, allowing the determined man to see the prize within reach.

“Ya don’t take a man’s rum, Sithy…” Raphael grunted as he stumbled against the giant’s lips, feebly reaching into the open mouth with the bottle resting in the middle of Sithero’s tongue. With a gentle tilt, Sithero scooped Raphael inside his mouth with the end of his yellow tongue, rolling him onto the center.

Once Raphael got a hold of the empty bottle, he groaned, hugging it to his chest and rolling over inside Sithero’s mouth, curling up where he laid and promptly passing out.

Sithero, with his mouth slightly open, breathed evenly. His tongue quivered as Raphael’s small body curled up on top, unbothered by the saliva. He slowly shut his mouth, cupping his tongue to give the human space inside. He was so much smaller without his boat, something Sithero was painfully aware of. How easy it would be to swallow him whole, he thought.

‘Raphael.’ Sithero rumbled, his tongue shifting as he spoke, which stirred the inebriated man. Raphael responded with grumpy grumbles, no longer coherent or aware of his surroundings.

Sithero sighed, deciding that it was inevitable, now. After all, Raphael climbed right into his jaws.

With a tilt of his tongue, Raphael was slid down the center, his unconscious body passing the giant’s tonsils, entering his esophagus.

A gentle gulp, and Sithero tilted his head back and squeezed Raphael down his throat. The man groaned as he was swallowed, his body engulfed by wet flesh that slid him easily down the giant’s gullet, though not much could be done to slow his descent.

Sithero sighed warmly, placing the tips of his fingers against his neck as Raphael went down, forming a solid bulge underneath. The kraken growled, humming softly as the warm little human was taken into his innards.

After a little while, Raphael had been squeezed down the entire length of Sithero’s esophagus, where he was slid into a warm, wet chamber within the giant’s ribcage. The man gasped a little and moaned as he suddenly felt sick to his stomach after being tipped upside-down.

He had been swallowed, yet Sithero knew he was safe. The kraken’s stomach was multi-chambered to fill his enormous body cavity, with only the lower portion unsafe for passengers. Satisfied with the feeling of a warm, living body squirming in his belly, the giant set his head back on the ground and stroked his stomach fondly.

‘Nothing for you to stumble on and get hurt in there.’ Sithero uttered as he traced his finger along his abdomen. ‘Just don’t be mad at me when you wake up.’

Raphael passed out not long after, blissfully unaware of his surroundings, sleeping rather soundly and comfortably surrounded by soft flesh.

The night went on, though the two were far from the stars. Under the waves and buried under earth and rock, the underwater cave was a safe haven devoid of sunlight. Only bioluminescent plankton, algae, and jellyfish provided any form of light.

Sithero was first to awaken, his massive form turned onto his front as he arched his back in a stretch. The giant rumbled softly as he placed a hand on his stomach, feeling the tiny presence of Raphael inside, still fast asleep.

The kraken took the opportunity to gather the rest of Raphael’s belongings, placing them carefully into the wooden boat, along with some trinkets and treasures from the shipwrecks. He then picked up the boat and placed it inside his mouth, taking care not to swallow any of the tiny human objects.

Sithero slid his huge body into the pool of the cave, sinking below the surface and back into the tunnel towards the cave entrance. His yellow eyes adjusted to the light that illuminated at the end of the cave, indicating that morning had come.

Still holding the rowboat in his mouth, the giant emerged from the cave and swam upwards, surfacing along the rocky cliffs of the landmass above the submerged cave that he called his home. Gulls cried as the kraken’s enormous head scanned the coastline before heading towards a sandy beach.

Sithero huffed as he heaved his monstrous body onto the sand, removing the boat from his mouth and placing it gingerly on the shore. He blinked calmly, placing a hand on his stomach again, determining the best time to let Raphael out.

‘Are you awake?’ Sithero growled, patting his stomach. A soft squirming inside of him told him that the man was at least stirring, no doubt hungover.

“Ughh…” Raphael groaned, rolling in the glowing interior of the giant. He opened his eyes briefly, shutting them quickly when he was met with nothing but soft yellow hues.

‘As much as I don’t mind this, I think you need fresh air.’ Sithero sighed as he straightened his back and flexed his stomach, the soft folds compressing around Raphael as it pushed him upwards and into the giant’s esophagus. Not long after, Sithero leaned forward and allowed the human to slide into his mouth, completely soaked in saliva.

The giant held his mouth open, allowing the cooler air to fill the inside, chilling Raphael awake. The man woke with a jolt, eyes wide and dizzy as he took in the frightening view of enormous, sharp teeth encircling him.

“Oh, god.” He uttered, covering his eyes with his hands, incidentally bumping the empty rum bottle against his skull.

Sithero calmly tilted his head down and slid the human onto his palm, who was still clinging to the bottle. ‘Hmm, you got your rum back after all.’ The kraken chuckled.

“How… much did I drink…” Raphael groaned, tilting the bottle upside-down and dropping it in defeat. He wiped his forehead and neck, wincing at the gooey saliva coating him.

‘Nearly all of it. How do you feel?’ The kraken growled as he peered at the soggy man in his palm, expression softening at how disheveled he looked.

“I… I’m fine.” Raphael groaned as he rolled over in the giant’s palm, averting his gaze from the morning sunlight. “How long was I… in your mouth?”

Sithero blinked, unsure of how much Raphael remembered from last night. Did he have no recollection of climbing directly into his jaws and promptly going down his throat?

‘Ah, a good while. You should wash off.’ Sithero uttered as he turned and placed Raphael on the sand beside the water, who stumbled directly into the surf, submerging his entire body as he fell face-first.

Sithero watched the man slump into the ocean, jolting as he reached for him and promptly plucked his limp body out of the waves.

‘That’s one way to get clean, I suppose…’ The giant grumbled as he held Raphael between his thumb and forefinger, letting him drip onto the sand below.

“I’m awake, I’m awake…” Raphael groaned as he squirmed in the giant’s fingers. “You… ugh, you ate me, didn’t you?” He uttered as he pointed a finger at Sithero’s enormous striped face.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’ Sithero chuckled deeply as a tiny finger wagged at him.

“You swallowed me!” Raphael blurted.

‘Ah, that I did. Big difference.’ The kraken replied.

“What d’ya mean? I was in your stomach, you tellin’ me that’s not eatin’ me?” Raphael retorted, wriggling defiantly, though weakly.

‘You weren’t digested. Silly thing.’ Sithero rumbled as he set Raphael on the seat of his rowboat. ‘I intend to keep you safe, and that is what I did. Now settle down, drink some water.’

“What water? All I got to my name is…” Raphael trailed off as he looked down at the floor of the boat and saw that it was filled with a generous pile of assorted treasures, from necklaces and coins to daggers and swords. His green eyes glittered with delight.

“Is this all for me?” Raphael asked up at the giant, his tone vastly sweeter than before.

‘Yes, don’t go spending it all in one place.’ Sithero rumbled as he stretched up and glanced around, scanning the horizon for ships.

“I dunno what to say… this is all so… it’s enough to get me some land and my own ship!” Raphael exclaimed as he pored over the treasures. “How could I ever repay you?”

Sithero shrugged as he returned his gaze to the gleeful human. ‘No need, I enjoyed our time together, after all. I only ask that you visit me, should you find yourself in this area again.’

“That’s more than fair… are you leaving, then?” Raphael asked up at the giant, who leaned close to him and smiled.

‘Does Raphael want me to stay?’ The giant chuckled, more so when Raphael’s face flushed pink.

“I-I don’t wanna keep you… I also enjoyed our time together, though perhaps the rum is to blame for part of that…” Raphael said as he stared at the giant’s enormous lips.

‘Don’t worry, I know just what to do with a drunken sailor.’ Sithero winked, and Raphael’s heart sank into his chest.

“… Any chance you got rum on you?” He said shyly, rubbing his hands together in his lap as he looked up at the giant.

‘Sadly, no. Make sure you bring enough for me next time, though.’ Sithero said toothily as he tapped his enormous finger on the end of Raphael’s boat.

“So, tonight?” The man said, holding his breath in his chest.

‘Tonight.’

#giant/tiny #soft vore #maw play #sithero #been picking at this for a while #sithero is fun to write cause he speaks in growls and rumbles #but of course with the power of literature I can make the main human character understand him after a little while #yayy #possibly continuing this #story

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glassrowboat · 3 months ago

Text

I'll Be Your Oxygen; I'll Be Your Home. Baizhu.

Summary: A single day can take your entire life and spin it off course, sending a ship steering one way an entire new direction all from a storm, or in this case, a chance run in wirh a mermaid. For you, what took this day off course was a single hook embedded in your tail, and from there, everything spiraled.

Author's note: This was supposed to be for mermay, but we all see how well that worked out so fuck it. Just enjoy.

Hey fuckers (Risse says lovingly) come here. @sunderingstars @auphelia @runawaymun

Word count: 14, 600+

A hook.

Glimmering in the sun's rays that reached under the water, like a gentle hand, to caress along your black and orange scales. Peaking past the surface, you hid yourself under to cast the metallic insult alight.

Shimmering.

It's funny how something that could appear so beautiful was the same cause for your bleeding. Wisps of red muddying the silver hue that was unabashedly pierced through your fin. Swirling around you as it danced in the water before getting swept up in the tide.

Many back home had taken to decorating themselves, to adorning their bodies with jewelry that fell from the islands above, seaweed, and even pink pearls. Strings of those shiny lusters had been a common sight for you once upon a time, seeing them every time another had swam past. You were no exception to indulging, either, letting them cover you as you smiled at the sight.

The thing is, you didn't exactly do this intentionally, not this time. Not while you were in foreign waters, ones that soaked into your gills in a way that still took you some time to get used to.

The salt had a way of numbing your tongue.

The taste was intrusive, always there even as your head rose out of the water earlier that day. Overhead chatter has you turning your gaze up to marvel at the harbor you chose to linger near.

Landmarks always proved to be handy now that you were lacking the tower that was so tall it might as well have loomed over everything.

Your ears popped, making it all the easier to listen to the gossip about the world above those two-legged creatures seemed so fond of. (Humans, you had learned they were called). Deals being struck all in the name of contracts and the jingle of those shiny coins they seemed to like sharing between each other as you peeked through the gaps of the wooden planks separating you from them. Footfalls occasionally have you pull back to hide behind one of the many beams that were lacquered over in some sort of substance that had you washing your webbed hands off.

Curiosity has led you here again and again.

At first, it was because of strange items, ones you've never seen the likes of before suddenly showing up in the sands of the reef you resided in. Half buried by the time you clawed them out of their newfound grave. Then it happened again. Another bewitching artifact that seemed to sing to you to keep it safe.

Plastic bags, a decorative mask, a handle of some sort, and fishnets all landing on what might as well be your front doorstep. Tangled in the bright corals.

Item after item that got carried in the currents you followed back to this place of barnacle covered wood, loud noises, and giant gates that seemed to welcome anyone in. Even you as you slinked around under the city.

One that apparently dropped shiny gold coins between the planks of the boardwalk. You couldn't help but dive after them just for the chance to stare at the trifecta with awe. The sounds of a person cursing above for daring to let the glittering rain fall from their hand drowned out as soon as you ducked below the water.

That's when your fin got trapped in something.

Trying to fight it only seemed to make you more wrapped up in its embrace. Tugging, trying to swim away as something pierced your fin. Not even your huff of fury scared it off as you jerked until the water was disturbed, a splash above you.

That was all you needed to flee. Ducking

between the floating devices resting on the surface. Some with scratches right along the bottom that were clear proof they had once upon a time been in the tides. Hulls most likely scraped up by the jagged rocks off to the island barely even a few miles away from the harbor. A fact that seemed to encourage a certain human with a standout personality (yes, that was a nice way to put it) into ice bridging his way across.

Which is how you had ended up here, hissing every time you poked at the wound in a futile attempt to yank the hook out.

Warm sand would usually be a comfort as you simply laid atop the grainy texture and soaked in the sounds of waves crashing against land now feeling invasive. It stuck to you in the worst of ways, grains covering your wound like it was a patch rather than something that only made this situation all the worse as you tried to brush it away to no avail. If anything, it seemed to only make it worse.

“Oceans below,” you muttered as the scuttering of crabs filled your ears. Had you really been here that long even they had started to simply accept your presence despite being notorious scaredy cats? The sound of scuttering behind you is unwelcome. Unwarranted, even as you stared at the mess you found yourself on.

Maybe curiosity was a bad thing.

Actually, the sound was a little too loud for some crabs, no matter how many there might be. That fact alone had you tensing up, shoulders locking into a tight posture as you looked behind you.

Head snapping back to see green hair that bristled slightly in the wind and eyes the same color as a golden koi trapped behind some glass contraption on this man's face. Your fins couldn't help but twitch at the sight, aching for the comfort of those creatures that would swim around you in circles, especially when you registered the odd creature wrapped around his neck.

A human stood before you.

A human has spotted you.

“Miss, are you alright?” He called out. Talking to you. You, rather than others of his kind as they walk about on land. No distance to be had between you two to simply observe him, wasting away hours with wide eyes as you try and soak in every detail to the point your gills would itch in irritation. Screaming at you to return back to where you belong.

The chance to watch from afar as you preferred ripped out from under you.

Your tail was burning as the salt water licked at your wounds, but it wasn't enough to keep you from trying to dive back in. The silver hook only dug into your skin further as your tail smacked against the rocks in your haste to escape. The faint plea of “wait, I can help” cut off the moment the waves welcomed you back like a smile belonging to someone once again getting the chance to see their lover.

The water is cold even in the spring.

That ache proved to be persistent. The hook ripped out of you in a haste to get rid of it even after fighting with your own head about whether or not it was a good idea. Clammy, shaking hands letting go of it the moment you were free as that color once again continued to muddy the space around you as you slinked into the corals below. Schools of fish that were gathered around your shelter quickly dispersed every which way as your shadow passed over them.

It hurt.

It stung.

Seafoam clung to the corners of your eyes as you wished you had stayed that moment longer before running away. Risked listening to possible false claims of wanting to help. At least then you wouldn't flinch and bite back a cry every time you shifted in place. Your own body had decided it didn't deserve the rest it craved as a night without sleep awaited you.

Hours passed in silence as you watched the glow of your tail flick along the cave, casting shapes that proved to be your only company.

You only risked peeking out past the walls of your shelter as the others in the reef awoke. A sweet-flower medaka moving past you without a care in the world, swimming close to the surface for its morning meal. Mouth already agape as a bug danced on the surface.

It was a sight you turned away from as you swam. You hadn't even decided as to where yet, but your tail moved as your mind debated over possibly cutting some leaves of seaweed to wrap around the injury. Other such methods you were familiar with weren't as viable here, the environment far too different from the one you knew better than the back of your hand. So you returned to what you knew: a sandy shore.

Something you're still questioning yourself over as you bite back as you break past the surface. Eyes just barely rise from the water to keep yourself from being seen.

Every now and then, a wave would wash over you as you gawked. Ogling the metal container left right where you had been sitting before.

That wasn't there last time. You knew it wasn't. You weren't that distracted to fail to notice something so obvious, something you would usually collect as a treasure from the curious human beings, even if the algae haired man had caught your attention so abruptly.

So, you picked the tin up in your hands. A small square box full of what seemed to be human food, if the smell was anything to go by. The same scents and spices you caught from the harbor that got caught on the wind. A welcome reprieve from salt, salt, and more salt filling your nose.

The paper that was previously laying underneath the tin almost got caught up in the same wind before you snatched it. Symbols covering the sheet you couldn't quite make out no matter how much you squinted at the messy handwriting. Not that it would help, anyway, not when you lacked the ability to actually make out the words on paper. So you let it go with a huff. Let it drift like those ‘proof of exchange’ that you often found to have fallen atop the surface of the water that would slowly consume it. Break it apart until there was nothing left.

A click and another as your nails tapped a slow pattern against the tin as you pulled away the ribbon on top, along with the foil covering it. Something white and fluffy you've never seen before packing it full. The only familiar sight being seaweed wrapped around these…triangles?

Foreign, but the thought it was edible quickly filled your mind.

The fact someone simply left it here without a single sign of anyone around only a faint deterrent from escaping back home with it. Tin and all. One you later found proved to be the perfect basket for all your tiny knick knacks of shiny golden coins, a tear dropped shaped wooden object with a metallic tip at the end, and an array of seashells.

Some of which you picked out, choosing some of your favorites you later placed right where the imprint of the tin still lay in the sand.

A thank you for the soggy treat. After all, it was better than having to try and snatch fruit off of the low hanging branches that touched the water.

A trend that continued on for three more days.

A new little container for storage, a new bow (one that no matter how many times you tried to replicate, failed to make just as pristine and perfect), and something stashed inside that proved to be something you could stuff down your throat.

An arrangement that proved to be far more convenient than having to try and snatch fruit off of the low hanging branches that lingered over the water. Less chance of being seen that way as constantly finding yourself needing to duck away whenever that large vessel with the paper lanterns setting it aglow passed overhead.

It always reminded you of home as it shone bright in the middle of the dark hour, making you want to sink your nails into the vessel's décor you couldn't help but liken to flowing fins. To cling onto it to give you purchase even if it only leads to catching the whispers shared above, but alas, even you could recognize that wouldn't be a bright idea.

So, you went to the shore again.

The same habit you've grown accustomed to in these few short days. A new schedule has emerged, breaking the one you had before of swimming just that bit further past the reef into the uncharted. Everyday daring to go somewhere new only to turn back again as the sun fell from the heaven to kiss the waters.

A tin was there, just as expected. Set neatly in place as you have come to expect.

You were already busy placing an odd drum like contraption with beads attached by two strings down. The ‘shadows’ payment for the day. Something you found right below the docks in your search for new treasures.

A small patter sounded as you placed it down in the sand, not minding as it hit against the grains as your eyes caught the sight of footprints. Usually, the tide would have washed those away by the time you came here, but today? There were clear signs of shoes having treaded through the area.

“She seems a little dumb. She's failed to notice us yet.” A shrill feminine voice called out, one that had you scanning the area around you to find the source only to land on the same man with those odd glasses before his eyes.

The one who claimed to want to help.

The footprints that lay before you leading all the water up to him as he stood only a few feet away from you, his shoes implanted right where the grass started, and the terrain below changed into dirt.

He was too close for comfort.

Too close for you not to have notice. Yet here you are again. Twice in the span of such a short time, you had been shocked by this man, taken aback by his presence.

Were your senses truly getting so dull you could easily be snuck up on?

You wanted to snap at the both of them. Warn them to back off. Both him and the odd creature wrapped around his neck, but before you could even curl your lips back into a scowl, he held his hands up in surrender.

A gesture that was barely enough to placate you.

“Is your tail feeling any better?” He asked, hands still high in the air despite the small twitch of his long fingers. “I noticed you were injured last time we met.”

Your tail splashed in the water at his words, droplets kicking up and falling back down like your own personal rain shower as they fell along your back.

“I suppose that means I should take that as a no.” It was obvious he was scrutinizing you, just as you were him taking in every detail of the other in the midst of the tense air. “Miss, I'm a healer. If you would care to let me, I can help you.”

You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him you're fine, only to be cut short as a croak left you. Voice broken to the point even you couldn't tell what was being said despite it being your own words. Too long has passed since you talked to anyone but yourself after venturing away from your own kind to need to use it to flex the muscle for it to be truly usable. After all, you could only entertain yourself for so long before you learned it was just easier to let your thoughts bounce around in your mind rather than on your tongue.

Yet, it seems he understood what you wanted to say as he nodded.

“I know you have no idea who I am, but we can start with something simple. I'm Baizhu,” One of his hands moved down ever so slowly, like he was making sure not to trigger your instinct to run (err, swim) away again as he brought it down to the white creature resting on his shoulders, “and this is Changsheng.”

Two names you could swear rang some sort of bell in your head, but still, you stayed as you were. Even as your own name was muttered under your breath, not truly wanting either of them to hear it despite bothering to share.

Unfortunately, it seemed the scaled one did as she repeated it back to you.

“That's a lovely name.” Baizhu said. His eyes constantly on you even as a pout crossed your features.

The day wasn't supposed to go like this. No, you were supposed to get something to stuff between your cheeks until they were aching from the stretch as you treated yourself like a chipmunk, leave something in exchange, duck around the corals, and maybe even harass a few fish between your fits of boredom as they swim away from you, kicking up a storm of bubbles.

“I have something for you,” he called out, trying to get your attention back on him without risking shuffling closer. “A balm of sorts. It took a while to find the proper ingredients, seeing as I needed something that would last well underwater and would work on your…”

His eyes moved to your tail for a moment before moving back to your face. “More unique qualities.”

“Medicine,” the ‘Changsheng’ said. “This one spent hours combing over books to find the right solution of ingredients.”

“Well, it's important to attend to everything I could in assurance that this would help her. I have never had such a patient before, so it only stands to reason I should be cautious.”

“Medicine?” You repeated after her, partially ignoring Baizhu's rambling. Trying to say it the same way she did proved to be awkward on your tongue, unable to copy the natural hiss to her voice.

The assurance of “it is” was quickly accompanied by the offer of a small item in his hand. A small cylinder of sorts that was covered in a label. You've encountered those before. Cursed as they peeled and tore in all the wrong ways as you tried to pick them off. Still, you didn't tell it. Not quite yet.

“You were the one leaving the food, weren't you?”

The creature tilted its head at you, watching you for a moment before asking “did you seriously eat something thinking it was coming from a random stranger?”

“Now, now, Changsheng.” Baizhu chided, hand moving up to brush along her scales. “She's simply...a little unaware of the world.”

Well, that certainly felt like an insult.

Baizhu had an easygoing smile as he carefully unwrapped her from around him, much akin to the scarfs you'd see in the colder months. When the water would freeze your skin and you'd be covered in white flakes that fell from the sky whenever you dared to leave your natural environment.

Is that what she was, a scarf?

He muttered: “Give us a moment, why don't you” as he held her up to the branches of a nearby tree. Her little scarf body wrapped around the bough and hiding between the yellow leaves that covered her so well you could almost convince yourself she wasn't there at all.

That is, if she didn't make a remark that was basically along the lines of “make sure the fish doesn't bite you.”

Baizhu apparently had no issue waving her words off as he took a step towards you. The sound of dirt crunching wasn't what graced your ears this time. No, rather, he was trying to cross the divide. To step those few feet closer to you. Sand shuffling as it's kicked up, that's the sound that greeted you.

“I'd rather you stay over there.” The way the words came out as more than a question than a statement had you both raising a brow. One aimed at you, and, well, the other aimed at you by you.

“I promise I merely want to confirm to myself you're alright, miss. If you would be kind enough to give me five minutes.” As Baizhu spoke, he urged your eyes to fall on the item in his hand. “It's nothing dangerous, I can assure you. Simply some sweet flowers, qingxing, mushrooms, and cryo slime condensate to make it a paste.”

“I don't know what any of those things besides the slimes are.” The little creatures that bounced along the edges of the water. At first, they appeared so cute, but you had been a victim once or twice after getting too close and having them direct their hostility towards you. Though, they were nothing compared to the sharp eyed creatures that ripped through the water in search of their latest hunt.

The sand crunched again as he took another step and in turn you slinked back.

“I assure you, I have no intention to harm you. I would be breaking, to me, a very important oath if I did anything other than assist you right now.”

His hand was outstretched towards you, offering the item so freely the feeling this was the bait to his lure couldn't help but gnaw at your mind. Even the pretty items wrapped around his wrists weren't enough to distract you despite the fact that you would long to have them in your collection any other day.

“You promise?”

“If I lied, Changsheng would surely say something. Or can you not tell she's an honest individual?”

Well, Baizhu certainly had a point there, even if his tone was a bit too litted for your liking.

But he did promise with a simple nod of his head.

Without a word, you snatched the cylinder from him hands and swam away. Tail flicking behind you as you dove. The sound of coughing filling the air doing nothing to deter you from fleeing.

Still, like always, you left a thank you behind. Even if it was done in the middle of the night to assure no one could sneak up on you this time. Every little golden coin those humans seemed to value so highly you've found, no thanks to the loose grips of lazy hands and purses in poor condition, stacked up on top of each other in the sand.

That night had to be the first one you hadn't woken up in the middle of due to pain.

Maybe that's why you returned, half hoping to see Baizhu and half hoping you'd never catch a glimpse of him again. An unlikely event, considering you were staring at him now from behind the rock you were using to hide yourself. Tail, now with your injured fin covered in the salve, brushing along the smooth surface, the waves have dulled down to a rounded edge.

He was resting in the shallows, feet dipped into the water as Baizhu's purple pants were rolled up past his shins.

How did you only just notice how colorful the man's clothing was?

Strangely enough, it reminded you of the hues in the depths you hailed from. The bright blue flowers that would glow just like your tail as evernight flooded the sky, patterns in his clothing that had you longing to see the carved stone of those old buildings falling to ruins, and the water that turned hostile against those that lived there.

Sparks of electricity that bit at your muscles in nothing short of pure irritation ruining the home you once had.

So some went west, some went east, and you went north.

“You're back.”

His eyes flicked up to you, moving from where his feet were digging into the sand that swallowed his limbs with every step. “As are you.”

In the silence, the lack of a buzz of anything between the two of you, you hastily asked where the scarf was. She was missing today, after all, not to mention a small part of you found comfort in the fact there was another scaled creature to talk to. To break the ice. Even if she was…a little sharp tongued.

“Changsheng,” he asked, mirth in his voice. “She's on the tree over there. The one I placed her on before. She always complains about the water anytime she gets wet, so I thought it best to leave her be.”

The silence returned. Your eyes stuck on your webbed fingers. Suddenly, something you had all your life proved to be quite the marvel as you stared at the veins through the translucent skin.

“A snake.” He dared to break the tension. Speaking over the waves. “She's known as a snake, if you were wondering.”

“I see.” You said after a moment of hesitance, unsure of what you were supposed to say to something so simple.

You couldn't help but chew on your lip for a moment, hoping you could swallow something down and regurgitate words that hopefully turned out to be a sentence. A half-baked question on your tongue as Baizhu spoke. Both of you cutting the other off.

“I'm sorry.” Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Baizhu gestured towards you. “Please, go first. I want to hear what you have to say.”

“What are you doing here?”

"One can only work so long when your own employees are insisting you take a break. Not to mention Changsheng trying to slip her tail under my glasses to slide them off certainly helped to encourage me out the door.”

“Glasses?”

Those must be the things on his face then. The thin golden wire pinched between your fingers as you pulled them off of him. A sigh immediately fell from Baizhu's lips as he looked down at you, holding them up to your own eyes, mimicking the way he used them even as they made your vision blurry. Almost like seafoam was creasing into the corners of your eyes again as you squint to see anything as more than just random blobs of color.

“Can you… return those? Baizhu asked, a waver to his voice like he was afraid the wrong tone would frighten you off again. "And not do that again?”

He didn't snatch them from you, not the same way you did him as Baizhu pinched the frames. His fingers brushed against your cheek as he took your newfound, and rather confounding, treasure back. “I need those to see, miss.”

“Oh…I…don't see how they do, but okay.”

“You seem to have a habit of collecting whatever catches your eye. From everything to tassels to rattle drums. Qiqi, one of my- well, a child I care for, seemed to enjoy playing with it for a time.”

“I found most of my keepsakes under the harbor.” You admitted.

You've spent what had to have been days by now lingering around the boardwalk and concrete platforms, eyes searching about the area and you ruffled through bits of trash, plant life, and piles of seaweed that crashed against any rock they could catch on. Waves rocking them back and forth and to be taken away to go float somewhere else before your search was even up.

“Then you are the reason the children have been whispering that old tale again. It has been some time since I heard it.” After Baizhu finished cleaning his glasses off of the water droplets, he slipped them back on. “It was enough to bring back some old memories.”

“Whispers?” You asked, head cocking to the side.

“You're not as subtle as you might think you are, miss. I do suggest being a bit more careful about who catches sight of your tail during your treasure hunts.”

“So I do have to be careful of humans then?” You asked despite the fact that talking still hurt.

Still made your throat wish to swipe back at you with clawed hands to simply allow it some rest, but this question was important. You lacked experience with their kind, with this land. You might as well be going in blind at this rate despite having eyes adapted to the dark.

“You wouldn't be the oddest sight in Liyue, not when we have the illustrious Adepti serving the land, but it never hurts to be cautious." Baizhu warned. "One can never be too careful, in both terms of the people around them and our very own selves. That's why it is important to look after our bodies.”

Baizhu certainly sounded like a healer now, chattering about this topic with ease as he mentioned your tail: an example of his point.

“Which is why we ought to take care of it. If you would let me?”

Your lips twisted down. “I somehow feel like I swam right into that one.”

Baizhu's eyes creased as he smiled, little wrinkles forming as he chuckled. “You did, but if you would be so kind as to let me?”

If you can hand anything to this man, it was the simple fact of how persistent he is. Nagging at you over the same thing until you found yourself giving in. Tail still in the water, flicking every now and again in protest as his hand slid over the scales all the way down to the injured fin.

You were tempted to pull back, to find a conch shell to scream into so it may too know what it's like to hear the depths of the ocean, but you merely sat there taking in a shaky breath as he whispered in what had to be the sweetest voice you've ever heard that he'll treat whatever ails you. All you have to do is ask.

The start of an untimely friendship even if Baizhu was in a coughing fit by the time he was once again out of the waters. Hand covering his mouth. The snake, as you learned she was called, wrapped around his neck as he choked out a simple wish: for you to be careful on your way home.

The noise was one you recognized, having heard it from the masked creatures that roamed on the purple lands, grass crunching under their feet right before falling to their knees. Some would even tumble off cliffs, gracing your home with their presence as they sank lower and lower until you couldn't see even the outline of their bodies anymore.

No one ever bothered to help, so you never learned how.

Making it a sound you never cared for.

He seemed to cover his mouth a lot you had come to notice, carrying a handkerchief around with him and tucking it away as fast as possible even when it was just you, him, and Changsheng. Like there was something to hide even as he told you about how that day went as the people on the docks grew in numbers and started to complain about their work days. Whining about being sweaty, no thanks to the ever increasing beat of the sun as the weeks passed. The second you hear that first “it's been such a long day” you knew it meant you could see your newfound friend again.

Your only friend, really.

Him and the little loudmouth hanging off his shoulders.

She had found herself a hobby of resting on the highest rock she could find as the tide slowly creeped in. Soaking in the stones' warmth until she called out: it was time to go. At least, that's how it usually went. If not, you would be listening to Baizhu excitedly rambling to you about the newest concoction he's working on or listening to pages flip as he sat on the sandy shores and read.

The sun was still peeking out just enough he could catch the words as you looked over his shoulder. Illustrations of plants you had never seen before painting the pages you were too scared to touch in case your water covered hands would smudge the ink.

Baizhu would point at each one, read aloud for you as he explained their purpose and where he would go to find them. Your fins (now healed) brushing along his leg as he spoke. Some he would explain came from his own personal greenhouse, having no other option but to grow them himself if he wanted fresh specimens, others came from Liyue's mountains and oceans of grass, and some he simply had imported over from other nations.

Flaming flowers: helpful for soothing pulled muscles.

Zaytun peaches: a relaxing ingredient that, if the right percentage is used, can be implemented in sleeping pills.

Sweet flowers: they can help make a patient stop complaining too much about how bitter the medicine he makes is.

That had you giggling as Baizhu's brows pinched together, already exasperated just from mentioning the complaints he's gotten.

And sakura blooms: the extract of which is used in vitamin supplements.

Your eyes were glued to the page at the sight. Branches covered in little pink petals that had you leaning over the book just to see them the slightest bit closer.

“I know those.” You muttered, mouth moving faster than your mind.

“Do you now?” Baizhu looked up at you, curiosity swimming in his eyes.

It didn't come to a surprise that piqued his interest, not after the slew of questions you received the day he checked how your tail had been healing. It seemed like every little detail he could think of flew past his lips, wanting to whatever you would be willing to share with him of the place you grew up, if there were others like you, if all mermaids had tails that resembled a dawncatcher medaka or if it was just you.

Even something as mundane as what your diet was.

It had gotten to the point you were debating thwacking him with said tail as his fingers slid over the injury, so gentle with you, you barely even felt the sting of pain as he applied another salve.

Later on, Baizhu confessed that talking so much, asking questions, helps to keep a patient distracted while tending to them; but he was just mainly prying to sate his own inquisitive nature.

But for now, he was nodding as his hand flipped to another page, slipping through this book he called a journal like he knew exactly what every page contained. “I recently received a brand new stock of sakura blooms.”

“I remember looking off into the distance and seeing that tree way on top of the main island, the one with the weird shape to it, before finally saying goodbye to the place that raised me.”

As you spoke you raised your hand up in the air, like you were reaching out for the petals, hoping they would slip from the branches that hugged them tight so you could be blessed with the chance to know what they feel like, what they smell like. Would they be as bittersweet as the mere thought of them was? Would they feel the same as the flowers in Enkanomiya?

You could feel Baizhu's eyes on you, a soft gaze, but his pupils were slitted just like the vishaps. It felt contradictory, somehow, but he pulled it off with ease. “Parting from your home is never easy.”

“Yeah..It..” You couldn't help but shake your head, trying to knock your thoughts free and away just like the droplets of water that had been clinging onto your hair had. “So, sakura blooms?”

“Yes, well..” Baizhu looked down at his journal, staring down at a letter that was now distorted from the droplet. “Many use the petals for teas. From what I hear, it's a popular flavor in Inazuma.”

“Is it any good?”

“Most of the sakura treats are laced with sugar, far from being healthy for dental hygiene. Especially for the children who still pretend to brush their teeth before bed.”

“Baizhu,” Changsheng called out, her tongue flicking in the air, “that's not what she asked.”

“Right. Right. Excuse me,” your name came out of his mouth like a song, better than any of the ones you've picked up being hummed as sailors walked back and forth aboard the ships (as Baizhu had taught you they were called) with boxes full of merchandise. “I'm sure I can make some tea cakes for you. There are surely some substitutions I can use. Applesauce, for example…”

“It'll be like our old deal.”

You had half the mind to bring him some shells in exchange, maybe even bits of coral. It wouldn't matter even if Changsheng called your treasures worthless junk again if he held them close and smiled at you in thanks.

Your scales shivered under his touch as Baizhu's leg brushed against you, fin twitching as he said: “Not quite. I don't have to coax you out of hiding this time.”

“Hey now.” You huffed.

He turned away from your pout, finger sliding back over the journal before him as he pointed at one of the jumbles of scribbles. It was easier that way to hide his smile despite the fact it still showed in his voice. “For now, let's enjoy the day.”

“You mean the blistering heat of the summer.” That did no good for your scales that insisted on drying out under the ever shining sun.

“Now, now, It's important for everyone to simply take a step back from the churn of the every day to appreciate the scenery around them, heat and all. Especially in good company.”

“You're right.” You said, shoulders raising in a shrug. “Changsheng is good company.”

Baizhu didn't always show up. Sometimes, he failed to give you an explanation at all after disappearing on you for days. Leaving you to meander to force time to pass. Hours were spent around the reef trying to bother the fish that had grown so used to your presence that they didn't even stir until you started to chase them around.

You had learned this game from watching a group of boys. Children who caused a ruckus as their feet padded across the streets, running around stalls, adults, and crates that had yet to be unloaded as they played tag. Hands outreached to grab onto each other.

It was better than nagging, or quoting Baizhu's lines about “health comes first” as he looks at you with sunken eyes.

Was it wrong to want to know what was plaguing him so?

At first, he had used this sort of powder to hide the bags under his eyes, but one swipe of your webbed hand, still covered in droplets of water, wiped it away with ease.

Tinges of blue meeting you as he sighed.

Changsheng was the one who finally spoke up as Baizhu took your hand in his own, seeming to be figuring out how to hold it properly. Eyebrows pinched together as he held what he could close.

“It has been a long week. For both of us.” Just as always, Changsheng drew out every ‘S’, letting it punctuate her sentence.

“Yeah? That so?” You asked.

You squeezed his hand back, not minding if it felt uncomfortable as his fingers slipped along the webbing. For him, you could stand the feeling that had shivers running down your spine.

“Indeed, a long week.” Baizhu said, seeming to have found a way he preferred to keep your hand in his.

That day, you two sat in silence. Listened to the waves lapping along the shore, Changsheng's snoring as she drifted off, and the whispers of the wind brushing through his hair.

You had stayed there, just like that, until the gills on your neck were itching. Begging for relief as you splashed into the water. He had told you to be careful of fishing lines on your way back as you resurfaced. A clear dismissal that had you nodding in agreement.

It wasn't your intention to leave, but for some reason he took it that way.

For some reason, you didn't even clear the air. Fix that little miscommunication as you swam away.

Neither of you talked about that day even as the waters grew cold. Leaves falling from branches, flying across your vision with every breeze in a flurry of yellows and oranges, strangely reminiscent of a diveda ray leaping into the air.

The humans had begun to wear scarfs again, choosing to hide away indoors or under layers of clothing, waddling around as they got their daily business done.

A change of season.

And a sweater held out to you.

Baizhu had been insisting you wear one, even if it's only while you're up on the surface as he laid it on your bare shoulders. The soft texture lacked the scent that seemed to linger on his person, but you held it close to you anyway; hugging it around your body just as Changsheng was your neck.

She often complained how you always smelt of sea salt, but she had been the one who moved from Baizhu to you. Something he seemed rather betrayed by in the moment, just not enough so to move away from where you sat. Hip to hip.

“How has work been at the pharmacy?”

“Long.” Changsheng remarked, her nose buried into your neck.

“Well, we were expecting this, at the very least. I even asked Gui to stock up on a few extra herbs for me, but-” Baizhu sighed. A long, drawn-out breath as his head tilted back with a pop. “It's flu season again, meaning lines of patients right outside the door all coughing right onto each other. I had to ask Qiqi to hand out face masks for everyone.”

“Is this where you rant about people not being cautious about spreading their sicknesses again?”

A hiss, and you looked down at Changsheng, who was shaking her little head. “I don't need to hear his lecture again, not when I am sure I can recite it word for word.”

“Come now, surely I can't be that bad.”

At the same time you and Changsheng both said to him “you are.”

Baizhu's lips quirked down, meeting you both with a frown, but before he could say anything, you were already tossing out words you were used to hearing from him the most. Discomfort, symptoms, no need to worry about my cough, exhaustion, and cover your mouth when you sneeze. The only reason you stopped short as you were about to say more was Baizhu's finger brushing the hair sticking to your lips away.

The growing warmth in your cheeks was getting harder to ignore as he leaned closer.

“You forgot prescriptions, pills-”

“And other such hubbub we are well used to.” Changsheng said, unabashedly cutting him off.

It gave you just enough time to pull back, to pretend you were just slipping your arms through the holes of the sweater as the two went back to their playful bickering. Always like mother and son. If not that, maybe Changsheng could take the role of that one aunt you had who purposefully nudged pufferfish in hopes of getting high.

“Then what do you suggest we talk about since this topic is so dreadful?” Baizhu spoke your name, dragging you into the conversation as he claimed you complained the moment he brought up the weather last time.

“I'm allowed to be blasé when talking about the weather of all things.”

What were you supposed to do, get excited every time it rained? That had only been a marvel the first few times as you stared up at the sky, mind trying to comprehend what was happening. The stone ceiling only ever splashed you with droplets, perspiration coating the stalactites until enough water coated the end to fall down. It was nothing like watching the clouds come overhead, gray, almost angry looking, as you had sat there all day atop a rock.

Back then, you couldn't help but wonder if it had meant Morax was crying, just like how the storms of thunder and lightning surrounding Inazuma meant the Shogun was blocking everything out.

“It's boring.” You whined.

“I come and visit you whenever I have the time to spare, not a complaint to be heard after I walk down here knowing you can't visit me, and you still say I'm boring?” Baizhu teased. His eyes sparkled behind his glasses in a way that had you rolling yours.

“Yes.”

“You've gotten cheeky.”

“You've rubbed off on me.”

“Or a certain fish was waiting to show her real personality, so we would keep feeding her.” Changsheng interjected.

“I don't know what you're talking about.” You said as she shifted on your shoulders, her pearl like scales brushing along your neck, covering your gills until you pulled her away from them.

In your struggle against the snake (that you still found yourself referring to as a scarf on the rare occasion), Baizhu fixed the sweater as it fell off your shoulder. Tugging it up for you.

“It's quite alright if that's why you're sticking around. At least this way, I know you are getting a well-balanced meal every day.”

“That's not-”

Not true. Not in the slightest.

You found yourself taking his hand, holding it up as you stare at the lines embedded in his palm, at the lack of webbing, at the skin that was smooth to the touch, lacking a single black tipped scale. These days, you found yourself forgetting about that boundary between you two, of mermaid and human, as he teased you, but then came moments like these. Baizhu atop a rock, sitting comfortably in the sun without needing to splash himself with water. It proved to remind you of how different you two really are as you swallow down the lump in your throat.

Like you were trying to force an entire sunsettia into your mouth with only one bite. Grating against your throat.

“Sure, I only stick around because of the food. Makes it easy, you know?" You didn't mean to sound that bitter, but somehow it felt natural to wear poison on your tongue. At least right now, anyway.

Maybe that's why Baizhu always refuses to share why the handkerchief he carries around is stained a muddied red because you and he are two different creatures entirely. A gap you could never hope to fill, seeming to grow bigger, stretching into a chasm, as you glanced up at him.

“It's getting late,” you said, “and I should head back before it gets too dark. I don't need to catch any attention from the local fisherman, you know?”

“Yes, I have heard there is a local legend going around of a glowing fish the fisherman's association says will grant you a wish if you catch it. I thought we told you to be more careful about being spotted.”

You muttered how you'll be sure to keep an eye out from now on, thanking Changsheng for her concern, as you slid the sweater off. Casting it aside in a heap as it landed in the sand. Grains getting caught in the knitted wool before you even managed to splash into the water to return to the reef.

Your black tail stands out like an ink blotch on pure white paper as you duck back into the bright pink and purple plant life.

A fish out of water in the very element that you breathed.

If it were any other day, you might have laughed at the irony, but the idea tasted bitter as the ever encompassing salt you waded through as your fingers dug through piles of trash again. Anything to keep you busy, even if it meant telling yourself to focus on finding treasure, to ignore the way you weren't as ecstatic as you were used to when finding something new.

Lots of something news greeted you as weeks passed. Bright red pouches, kites that had fallen into the water as the breeze robbed them of their right to fly, random shipment boxes that fell off the ships passing you overhead in their haste to take off, and even a lantern that wasn't tied off properly to the stake it had once called home.

There were many lanterns these days, actually. Glowing in the middle of the night, flickering in a way that had you longing to wrap your arms around the bioluminescent fish that you hadn't had the chance to see in months. Even if they flapped about in your arms, desperate for escape, you would refuse to let them go.

As the lanterns shined bright, your hand clasped around the paper dissolving under your touch, wishing, praying that your mind could delude itself long enough you could see the outlines of a formalo ray in the kite.

By the time it fell apart seafoam was clouding your vision.

Blurred outlines of leaves, a bamboo fence only a few feet away from the water you sat in, lily pads, and seaweed like hair all encircling you the same way your arms did the scraps of what once was.

The only thing that shook you out of your reverie was a call of your name. Familiar, but not familiar in the way you craved. It wasn't the voice of your own kind, distorted by water as you laughed with those around you.

“What are you doing here?”

You looked up at Baizhu as his shoes came to a stop before you, shiny gold accents you had burned the image of into your eyes after all the times he slipped them off; dipped his feet into the water, waves making the anklet he wears rise and fall every time they came in as he stood beside you.

“I was about to ask you the same thing, but then I came across this.” His fingers brushed along the sticks that had once held the kite together as he spoke, grazing over the lacquered wood. “And you.”

Slowly, surely, your grip loosened. Your precious treasure falls to the ground only to reveal your hands covered in splinters. You hadn't even noticed the sticks had snapped under your grip when wails had rocked you until now, but Baizhu seemed to notice right away as he looked between you and the pinpricks of blood.

“Is…is this when you lecture me about how I need to disinfect my hands on something?”

“In a moment, dear. For now, won't you come here for me?”

Baizhu's arms were already wide open, waiting for you to fall into them. To let him hold you. An offer you didn't even think to refuse as you tackled him down. Small coughs shook his shoulders as you both fell, but that didn't deter him from whispering in your ear how everything will be okay. How you just need to let it all out.

Nails traced along your back, causing shivers as he found every divet, every scar, every mole the expanse of skin had to offer as you two stayed like that.

The seafoam had long since been wiped from your eyes, but still, Baizhu held you. Hugged you just as tightly as you did him with your tail that found itself wrapped around his leg; refusing to let go.

“Do you want to tell me about what's going on? I have an idea, but…” The way he talked to you had warmth flooding over your skin, easing the goosebumps that had started to appear after his touch.

“No- I-” You stammered.

It reminded you of the tower, the warmth of its light that would flicker on and off, shining so fiercely it pierced through the vale of fog, casting its glow over the pool you found yourself in more often than not. You would peek your head out, water rippling around you, just to watch the purple wisps dance in the air. You never did learn what they were dancing to, but you liked to pretend it was a song only they knew.

“Shh, it's alright. I'm here, even if you can't bring yourself to talk.” He whispered in your ear., voice as soft of the grass under you.

Mumbles of apologies fell from your lips like a waterfall, coursing through you and coming out in waves even as Baizhu assured you it's better to let it out now, that you can always tell him what has made you so distressed later. That he had an idea what's wrong anyway, so there's no need to feel rushed.

You had only pulled away from his embrace to ask what he was doing here, not used to seeing Baizhu anywhere but the little beachside front you always met. Where the sounds of the harbor could be heard, but the mountain blocked the sight of sails as docked ships rocked back and forth.

“I was at Qingce Village helping decorate. Many of the people living there are far too old to be climbing ladders just to hang something up. I fear. However, they will still try despite the doctor's orders.”

“Always nagging.” You teased. Or, at the very least, tried your best to when your voice broke on each word. “I bet the next thing you're going to say is they shouldn't be running around outside so much with weary bones.”

“A perfectly understandable thing to say.”

Your thumb rubbed over the growing crease between Baizhu's eyebrows as they furrowed together. A sight for sore eyes.

“Where have you been?" You inquired. "I haven't seen you at our normal spot for weeks.”

Admittedly, you had only waited for him for a few short minutes before leaving. Your temper suddenly grew thin since the last time you talked to him, leaving an ache in your chest as dark as evernight every time you left the sandy shores behind. Lingering, as you had reasoned with yourself, wouldn't change the outcome.

If Baizhu didn't want to be there he simply wouldn't be.

Apparently, that had been a foolish thought as Baizhu admitted that he had visited when he could. “Rarely, but I tried. I have just been…otherwise occupied.”

His eyes fell to look at the ground, to gaze at the blade of grass you two rested upon, telling you all you needed to know. “Guess you don't know what to say when you don't have Changsheng to cover for you, huh? Where is she, anyway?”

With a scoff you asked: “Now, when did I need someone to cover for me?”

Your jaw almost dropped at the sheer audacity as he tried to pretend everything was alright. Normal even. It caused a warning tone to bubble in your voice as you called his name, though you had to doubt its effectiveness when he's still holding you close and your own voice still is broken from your earlier crying.

You two stared at each other for a moment, your scales grating against his skin, before Baizhu relented.

“Back at the village with Qiqi and her friend, a little girl named Yaoyao. They were learning how to tie good luck knots for the coming New Years. I was on my way to fetch some more string, so I wasn't exactly expecting it to take long.”

“Good. Now was that so hard?”

“Terribly so.” A small smile was on his face, voice too shameless for a man that was supposed to be feeling a little guilty right now, but you let it go as Baizhu asked to see your hands.

As he raised your open palms up, trying to get a better view of them, you couldn't help but think about how if Changsheng was here now she'd be calling you stupid; asking how a creature that's fortunate enough to have limbs, hands, and fingers, would be dumb enough to injure them. And you'd be arguing back with her until Baizhu held you a little tighter and told you to stay still a minute longer.

And of course, you'd oblige.

“So what is a good luck knot?”

“A traditional craft for those of us who hail from Liyue. It is said they can be used to ward off spirits who wish us harm.” As Baizhu spoke, he carefully pulled the splinters from your skin. “I would make them with my master and fellow student, Jiangli, so we could hang them on the eve of Lantern Rite.”

"Forgive me. You most likely don't know what that is either.” He said as Baizhu took in your confused expression.

“Not one bit.” You confirmed with a nod.

“Then…” As the last splinter was pulled out, Baizhu held his hand above your, a faint green light swirling around you both. For a moment, you swore you saw eyes, wise, knowing, a creature that meant no harm swimming around you both before the pinpricks disappeared. “When the festival is…”

The green light cast on him might have been eerie to some, lighting his skin with a sickly tinge, making it all the more obvious just how pale and sunken some of his features were, but to you it was the same glow the depths of the water had always held.

In the dark, with nothing to light your way but random plant life as the tower once again turned off.

“You see, every year during Lantern Rite, there is a custom to set off fireworks every year. There is always a show held, a float built in honor of an illustrious Adepti. This year, if I can properly recall, is-”

It reminded you of home.

“You're rambling again.” You pointed out.

“Right. Right. Excuse me.”

Awkwardly, Baizhu cleared his throat, refusing to make eye contact with you as he watched the spirit vein disappear back into that glowing green gem he always wore on his waist; jade snake charm hanging off of it.

“Dear-”

“And when did you start calling me dear?”

He huffed your name out, punctuating the air with each syllable, but all you could focus on was how his ears were tinted a barely there shade of pink. “If you would be so polite as to stop cutting me off, I would like to speak.”

Your lips pinched together into a thin line as you made that motion you've seen him doing before. Running a hand over your own mouth, twisting the wrist ever so subtly, and tossing an invisible item away like it never meant anything to you in the first place. You never learned exactly what it meant, but you could get the picture after he did it when Changsheng said something he shushed her over.

Baizhu whispered his thanks, telling you he just needed to find the right words between the lull of the wind brushing through the grass.

It was as a little girl's voice, monotone, almost lifeless, filled the air, calling for Baizhu that he finally said: “Would you care to watch the fireworks with me?”

“I couldn't think of anything better.” You said with a smile, even as you could still feel seafoam stinging at your cheeks.

And as a little head of purple hair appeared in the distance, you sunk beneath the waves. A smile on your face as the water poured into your gills, bubbling around you.

Ripples on the surface creating tiny waves, just as they did as you swayed your tail back and forth. Your fins glowed, bright as the moon above, casting an orange glow that rivaled the lantern resting on the boat's seat. Ridges, wood grains, the tiniest of knicks and crannies all to be seen to the naked eye as you hung off the gunwale.

Shining in the water like it was the sky above and you were a lone star dotting its existence as you listened to Baizhu chuckling at another one of Changsheng's complaints about the cold as she wrapped herself even tighter around his neck, the little sweater he knitted her apparently not doing any favors to keep her snug.

“You knew we were going to be out on the water, but you still weren't prepared?” Baizhu asked, fingers brushing over her to pet Changsheng's little head.

“Not all of us scaled creatures are made to handle the cold, unlike someone.” She said with a pointed look your way.

Your gaze lingered on the harbor a minute more before looking back at her. Worry still ebbed at you, at the fact you could see the red constructs covering the boardwalk. The moment they were put up, you had awed over them, curious as ever as you watched the hanging umbrellas the same way one would flowers. Amazed at the array of colors. But Baizhu assured you that if anyone questioned what the light on the water was, they would just think it's a fisherman with a couple lanterns, waiting to release them.

“Hey," you whined, "don't bring me into this.”

“Don't want to be a part of our conversation now, dear?” Baizhu asked.

“Am I supposed to be?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you two going to do this all night?” Changsheng interjected. “Because if so, I should have stayed on land with Qiqi and Yaoyao.”

“Hush you.” He chastised before turning to you. “As for you, what do you think of Lantern Rite so far?”

You couldn't help but sink a bit lower in the water as Baizhu's gaze fell on you, tilting the boat down with you as you moved. You hadn't had his undivided attention since the moment you two were alone outside of Qingce Village. Even days later, when you close your eyes below the water, coral surrounding you, you could feel his fingers tracing along your back.

Ghosts of a touch.

“It's curious. Everyone on land I saw was decorated in these colorful clothes, had bundles of red envelopes in hand, and we're playing some game I couldn't grasp the rules of.”

“Oh? Last year, they had these little paper dolls. Qiqi had spent a good while outside the stall needing the instructions repeated to her before she could finally play.”

“That zombie,” Changsheng groaned, “I bet she wouldn't even remember her head if it wasn't attached to her.”

“What do you think she and that other girl…um Yaoyao, was it?” You asked, and at Baizhu's nod of confirmation, you continued your question. “What do you think those two are up to right now?”

“I can't say I am one hundred percent positive, but maybe they're eating jujube or sharing tales. A madam Ping who lives in the harbor tends to share stories of her long life if she's ever asked. I, myself, have heard one of two of her cherished memories after encountering her at Yujing Terrace.”

Changsheng seemed to mumble something under her breath, nothing you could fully make out, but you caught the words prattle, talk, and predictable old people.

“Stories, eh?” You flicked your tail. “Now that I think about it, you never told me about the tales those children were whispering about when I first started getting spotted around the harbor.”

“You, fish girl, shouldn't have been getting spotted in the first place.”

“Thanks, Changsheng, for your great input.”

Baizhu's hand pat your shoulder, wordlessly asking you to just forgive and forget the snake's sharp tongue. A talent he seemed to excel at. Not like he had much of a choice when she was always wrapped around his neck, but still. “We have time to spare before the show. How about I tell you now?”

With a nod you agreed. Told him “then, please, share with me with your tales of wonder.”

So, he did. Baizhu told you of a popular rendition of the Little Mermaid he apparently grew up with. The main character is a curious mermaid, much like yourself, fascinated with the human to such an extent that she wishes to do more than observe it, but to be a part of it. To regale herself in a world of her choosing all with a human man who had captured her eye. A goal she was only able to accomplish by making a deal with a sea witch that split her tail in two.

You couldn't help but wince at the implications, and Baizhu stopped his story short to ask if you were sure you wanted to hear more. But what's the point of listening if you weren't going to hear the full thing? So, of course, you said yes.

Continuing on from where he left, Baizhu explained how the deal involves the human (aka a prince in this story, for what fairytale would it be without royalty in there with their glittering crowns) having to fall for the mermaid. A task he failed at by turning his gaze to another.

With the loss of her love the mermaid with mutilated body walked towards the shore, agony filling her with every step as she gazed at the waters she once considered home, and turned to seafoam with her thoughts filled with the very man who betrayed her heart.

“That's…” You stared at him with pinched eyebrows, lips curled slightly as you ran the story through your head again and again. “Well, it's certainly nothing like the tales of my own kind I grew up with.”

“No?" His brow raised. "I would love to hear them. Especially seeing as you never told me much about the waters that raised you.”

Now that he mentioned it, you never did answer many of his questions that third run in, opting to glare at Baizhu instead as you did your best to stay on guard. Considering it now, you were overtly hostile to the man, but he wasn't swayed in the least.

Though, that's besides the point.

“Are we just going to brush over the mermaid violence though? It's like you humans are obsessed with tragedy or something.”

Even a storyteller who was roaming about on the docks, tea cup in hand as he talked, seemed fixated on tragic endings. He seemed to revel in them as he acted out the scenes with barely contained excitement. So obvious even you could pick it up with your arms wrapped around wooden pillars to keep yourself from floating off, drifting like a stick in the waves, as you listened in.

“Well, I can't disagree with you there.”

He leaned closer to you, the boat tilting once more, threatening to let some water slip in as he hovered close to you. Nose almost brushing yours. Like this, it was so easy to make out every detail; the scales of Changsheng's body as she called you two disgusting as made her way down Baizhu's arm to wrap herself around the paper lantern, still trying to keep herself warm; his golden, slitted eyes; and the way his lips were curved into a smile.

“Careful,” You found yourself whispering, “we wouldn't want you tipping out of the boat.”

Baizhu found himself repeating the words “that would be unfortunate” to himself a couple times, whispering under his breath, but he was too close for you not to hear. To pick up every intonation, every word soaked in his thick accent you still haven't placed yet, having only heard it from him.

“So, um…”

Before you could say anything else, you heard a loud bang echoing in your ears. It made your head snap to the direction it came from, the harbor alight with sparks of purple raining down. Glittering as each colorful drop fell and dated as if it never existed in the first place.

“I believe the show has begun,” Baizhu whispered to you as he pulled back, moving to the lantern he began to pick up. Gentle hands, careful as always, even with paper, lifted it up just as a plethora of other lanterns filled the sky.

An array of shapes, of wishes whispered to them in hushed tones as hands let go of the paper constructs, trusting them to take care of their dreams as they took flight. Rising into the air as they dotted the sky. Reflecting off the water where you swam under their light, glowing with them.

Baizhu sat in the boat, eyes following you as you watched in wonder even as Changsheng said something in his ear. Right now, you couldn't bring yourself to care enough to pick up the words. Not as, for a hint of a moment, you truly thought this place looked like the depths of Enkanomiya.

The lone star once again in a sea of brilliance.

Baizhu found himself sitting back, letting the snake inch herself back up his arm and around his neck as he watched the mermaid, you, finally looking truly at peace since the first time he met you.

No fear, no hostility, no tears in your eyes. Simply being.

“Are you planning to give the fish girl over there the good luck tassel you made?” He heard Changsheng ask, the hiss in her voice as familiar as breathing despite the fact he suddenly felt short of air.

It wasn't a need to cough that was plaguing him, no need to pull out a handkerchief that always gets stained with blood after a use or two, but the sudden lack of oxygen willing to fill his lungs as you stole it from him.

All from simply looking just so…happy.

“Later.” Baizhu finally found himself telling her. “For now, let's just enjoy the moment.”

That night he found his hand running over the red string in his hands, the knot he made with ease, practiced fingers having pulled each knot into perfection, suddenly made his heart hammer away in his chest.

Changsheng's teasing wouldn't stop, not ever since he said goodbye by pressing a kiss to your cheek right before you dipped back under the water, but somehow he didn't mind even as his ears burned.

He couldn't help but wonder as he stood there with the knot in hand, moonbeams peeking through the windows in a way that had him wishing to see the glow of your tail once again, how selfish could he possibly be as Baizhu confessed how he wanted to be your newfound home.

The thought was only cut short as another cough wracked his body.

Only the moon could know what lay in his heart.

The very moon you were staring up at now as your mind wandered back to the kiss Baizhu had graced you with. So soft, so gentle. It had your hands wading in the waves, just trying to discard the thought enough to cool your heated face.

Somehow the cold water wasn't enough to do the job for you as you dove back to your shelter.

What was with him, anyway, you thought to yourself as your webbed fingers once again picked up that tin he had laid out for you so long ago. It didn't shine now, not like it did in the blinding light that hung in the sky, but it was eye-catching nonetheless.

And it wasn't because it was another treasure in your collection.

“Maybe I can…see him tomorrow.”

There hadn't been any plans to, but surely it wouldn't be too hard to catch his attention. All the clean up from the festival would surely mean the city streets would be filled with a hustle and bustle that would capture your eyes as people groaned about needing to work once more, but that would mean…

It would be risky getting near the surface again, what with those fishing lines, but the idea of peaking your head out long enough to spot the healer on one of his daily walks had you clutching the tin to your chest.

Scales glowing against the scratched metal as you recalled the taste of sakura blossom cakes Baizhu had gifted you weeks ago on your tongue even as salt tainted the subtle tang of flowers.

You found yourself cursing the same salt water as you spit it out of your mouth when you were peaking at the harbor. Eyes watching the ever busy foot traffic as you ducked behind the tall statues that seemed to welcome every ship that came to Liyue. Calling out a silent hello as sailors docked and joined the fray of endless heads looking around the (as Baizhu told you) golden city.

An endless sea of browns, blacks, two heads of blue as you swore one of them almost pushed the other into the water, and lastly a distinct green you could never mistake for someone else.

Not when it was the color of seaweed in the shining light of day.

Plus, a little snake wrapped around the person's neck helped too.

Baizhu.

The boat rocked for a moment, sending ripples along the water as you leaned forward a bit more to get a peak at him, only to dart back just as quickly. Hiding away behind the beams of wood that kept you covered. Well, mostly. Your tail could only hide so well in the shadows even on an otherwise overcast day.

Okay, maybe you were being a bit stalkerish.

Looking up at the sky you took in the gray clouds, like those plastic bags that littered the sea you had fished out time and time again only to throw at a random sailors head after you had gathered enough of them to curl up into a ball. The fact they always cursed after, looking around in confusion, only added to your amusement.

A small smile took over your face at the thought, even as your heart seemed to be grasped between your own webbed fingers. Worry gnawing at the muscle that had served you so well throughout all these years.

Since when did Baizhu make you feel just as- if not more- nervous than spotting the vishaps roaming about in the water back home?

He had just been roaming about the market, those black shoes you had to fish from the ocean (more than once as the waves captured them and dragged them off as high tide came in) beating against the wooden docks you have more experience hiding under than you care to admit, and eyes scanning about the endless stalls. That was normal. You had seen him just like that during all your trips to the harbor as you poked around and filched from stray boats.

Not that you'd ever admit to that last part if asked.

Daring another glance, you looked out from behind the boat, eyes immediately finding your target.

He seemed paler than yesterday, even without the moon casting her gentle glow down on you both. Silver would grace the ocean as her reflection would be cupped between Baizhu's wet hands….but now…

Maybe you should leave.

He always got so defensive when you caught Baizhu looking even the slightest bit off. Especially on that day, you had wiped powder from his skin, and Baizhu's expression screamed for you to not mention how you could see he was falling apart under your grasp. So fragile for a creature made to stand the trails the land had to offer.

You bit back your need to call for him, to try and capture Baizhu’s attention when all it would do was out that a mermaid truly has been lurking in Liyue's waters.

Even as you saw him leaning against a cane in his hand. Clutching onto it with white knuckles. Changsheng clearly said something to him as her mouth moved.

This was wrong.

Something was off.

And you wanted to curse even the black ocean that had birthed you as you turned your back to the sight.

You would see him in a few days on that same beach you two always found yourself at anyway. Baizhu would smile, take your hand in his like your claws didn't bother him at all, and he'd lie about why he hasn't been around, and maybe then you'd have the courage to actually make him answer you when you ask about it.

For now, though, you heard a loud splash as you dove under the water.

Tail flicking as you avoided the fishing lines, just like a spider's web, as their strings collect the dew of a fresh morning.

….

A splash?

You had sworn you were careful, not wanting to risk one of the sailors atop the deck running over to cast their gaze past the helm of the ship to land right on your and your black tail.

Turning around you could swear the salt, the very same ever present feeling that had taken your gills ages to get used to after you had scratched at them for hours each night before finally settling down, suddenly washed away.

It didn't linger on your tongue. It didn't sting your eyes. It didn't even tease at your fins mockingly as you saw a bright green in the water.

Just like algae.

Just like seaweed.

Bubbles erupted from your mouth as his name fell from your lips, voice muffled by the very thing you breathed even as you screamed it.

If this was above the surface, that single word would surely have echoed throughout the mountains that seemed to cage Liyue. A battlement for a nation that seemed to welcome any through the waters you were now cursing as you couldn't seem to swim through them fast enough.

You could still see his hair, that braid you had done and undone time and time again even as Changsheng called your work sloppy, filling your vision.

Floating in the water just like the gray and brown fur of a hilichurl as you and the others all watched it fall from the cliffs up above and slowly sink.

Sink.

And sink.

Their mask falling off as the waves wash it away, leaving a grotesque face to be unveiled as everything in their lungs turns to bubbles escaping what you could only assume was their mouths.

At times, you would reach out when no one else was around to witness the scene, and your hand should outstretch just as they were now to grab the mask in curiosity.

Eyes taking in the creature below you as they blinked up at you and you were left without an idea of what to do as it joined the countless corpses that would later become food for the creatures along the ocean floor that feasted on flesh.

Not even the glow of bioluminescent plants had brought light back to their expression as they stopped moving and welcomed the water into their lungs.

Back then you had turned away from them, swam away before another could pass by and ask what you were doing, but now you were stuck with your hand outstretched in pure desperation.

Your fingers wrap around his neck, cradling it as gently as you can even as you swore you caught a glimpse of red dancing in the water before it faded away, joining everything else as you pulled Baizhu close.

And your lips fell on his.

Your last thought was the story you had been told as you breathed water into his lungs.

A little mermaid had fallen for a human. Her eyes always looked at him in wonder and curiosity, for she wished to know all he had to offer. His voice so she may listen to it all day, his hand so she may cradle it in her own, his eyes so she may gaze into them, and lastly: his heart so she may know what it's like to have one that beats with warmth rather than the cold that filled her own veins.

He was everything to her.

A sun that walked on land rather than the clouds above.

He was no angel, but to the mermaid he might as well have been.

She had met him once, and only once, in the midst of the sea as a ship as big as the smallest whale you've seen treaded through the waves. Split the ocean like a knife to fish, with ease. As it did, the mermaid down below looked up, eyes drawn to what was casting a shadow over her form even as all the creatures around her swam away in fright.

You see, she was the only one who swam to it, rather than away.

The little mermaid grabbed onto the ship, hoisted herself up so she could peek her head out and spot everyone aboard as they moved about. Some people said things she couldn't understand (complicated human speech and their idioms), some sang, and one danced along the wooden planks even as they creaked in protest.

That one, that human, is who captured her eye.

His smile was like no others, his beauty incomparable to even the shiniest of pearls, and his eyes brighter than the very waters she lived in.

She fell in love with the human right then and there.

Holding onto the ship, the mermaid let herself sit and watch even as the day passed, and she could have sworn the night came, but instead, it was only the clouds coming in. Did that matter to her? No, not when her sun was right before her eyes.

The little mermaid only noticed when the people aboard started yelling at each other as the rain came in and the clapping of thunder could be heard. Booming across the sky.

A storm had rolled in.

It tossed the ship over the waves and threw everything back and forth until finally it collided into a rock with the same boom the thunder sang.

The little mermaid was tossed aside, left to drift in the water along with the other men that had once been aboard. Pieces of wood floated around her along with barrels, a chest or two, and the cloth that had been billowing in the wind, pushing the ship along. Like this, it was no longer pure white as it was tainted with the very thing filling her lungs.

Filling everyone's lungs.

Frantically the little mermaid looked around, scanning over the people around her who were clinging on to whatever they could, as she tried to spot the human she had watched the past few hours that seemed to drift by her like a dream.

In the storm, she had barely noticed his hand slipping under the water as the human lost his grip to the piece of driftwood he clung to.

So she saved him. The only way a mermaid knew how. Her lips fell to her sun's as scales tickled at his legs, transforming them to something else. To something familiar to only her and her kind.

For she had made him just like her.

Golden sand was coarse under Baizhu's hands and cheek, caking at his skin like a second layer of skin. A molt, just like Changsheng's, as she wiggled out of the shedding scraps of scales. He had helped her time and time again free herself of it as she hissed in annoyance, even as it found its ways under his nails. Later on, Baizhu would clean it out, just like he would with the sand, but for now, that was his last concern as his head groggily put itself together.

There was a haze to his mind, like it was trying to drag him down into the Abyss itself, but that barely mattered as water popped in his ears, and the sound of wailing finally hit him.

Cries.

The same wavering cry he had listened to as he held a mermaid in his lap and let her cling onto him for dear life. Just like back then hearing that noise had Baizhu aching to fix what was plaguing her, but he knew he couldn't make it alright.

But maybe now….

With a groan, Baizhu's hand moved against the sand, even as it felt wrong against his hand, almost overwhelming in a way as he reached out. Hand wrapping around another's with webbed fingers he had long since gotten used to.

“B-Bai?” Her croaked voice rang out.

He wanted to say “I'm right here, so cry all you need” but the words didn't seem to escape Baizhu's mouth. Halting on his tongue like he was choking on air of all things. Clearly, he was parched, but Baizhu pushed through it anyway the moment he could feel her clinging onto him back. Fingers wrapping around his own outstretched hand.

“What happened?”

Without missing a beat she immediately replied: “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't-”

Baizhu couldn't even get a word out as she sobbed how she didn't know what to do.

“I- there was nothing else- I couldn't…Baizhu…”

Opening his eyes hurt as the light of day suddenly blinded him, causing Baizhu to scrunch his nose up as he tried to adjust once again to the otherwise gray and overcast day. In the sand, his glasses laid next to a familiar white skin, Changsheng nestled up on herself as she shivered away, just barely keeping herself warm.

“Shhh…” Baizhu's hand brushed her hair out of her face, still wet from the water when she…

Actually, he couldn't remember how he got here. Not clearly, anyway.

Wasn't he on the docks before? Cane in hand as he tried not to lean on it too much to make it obvious he had been struggling. Changsheng whispering in his ear about how stupid Baizhu was for daring to think he could handle going out, for pushing himself any further despite coughing up blood that very morning, was the last thing he could recall clearly.

Everything else seemed to be drowned out.

“Dear?” Baizhu asked.

For a moment, he couldn't help but smile as she looked up at him, seafoam spilling from her eyes he easily wiped away. Somehow, the feeling of the suds like bubbles didn't feel so unnatural to him this time.

“What's wrong?”

“I didn't- I didn't know what else to do. The others never taught me. I wasn't even sure this would work…”

“I am sure you did what you could.”

“Please, don't be mad.” She pleaded with him.

“How could I ever be mad at you? When I want to be your hom-”

He wasn't given a chance to reassure her any further as his glasses were slid right onto his face, the metal legs usually a stinging cool after he hadn't worn them for so long barely even phased him now.

Her wide eyes looked up at him, the same ones made to be attuned to the dark that looked so beautiful in the light of day, and her hand was wrapped around his.

But all he could focus on was the scales he could now make out with a clear vision marring his skin.

…Why had she been apologizing so much?

Baizhu's fingers twitched against her hold, double checking those scales weren't just her own despite the fact the color of them was far from the inky black he had grown to associate the mermaid with. No, they were like the color of clearwater jade. They were his.

“I'm sorry.” She whispered to him one last time, but Baizhu barely heard the words as his eyes flicked down to take in the sight of where his legs were supposed to be, now replaced with a long tail and flowing fins.

Baizhu mumbled her name, and she looked up at him with frightened eyes. Eyebrows pinched together like she was just waiting for some type of reaction that would have her jumping into the water and swimming away. He could even see her tail twitching.

“It's not reversible.” She admitted.

That was enough to have his hand dropping from hers as questions filled his mind.

What about Qiqi who was waiting for him back home?

What about the pharmacy he had dedicated so much of himself to?

What about- his eyes flicked to Changsheng, still curled up and shivering in the sand, cold blooded just like he was. (At least now he was). What about her?

“Baizhu?” His dear asked, and he couldn't even find it in himself to respond as he simply stared down at the one he had promised to save all those years ago.

‘It's not reversible’ ran through his mind again.

This time, he couldn't find the energy to wipe away the seafoam clinging to the mermaid's eyes as she whispered his name, and he stared back at her in horror.

#baizhu x reader #baizhu x you #baizhu x y/n #fem reader #mermay #hoyoverse #genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #genshin impact x reader #banner by cafekitsune #please read this

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anakinskywalker97 · 9 months ago

Text

Rise of Skywalker

Darth Vader x Ex-Padawan Reader

Reader gets captured by her former master. Things don't go as expected as they hash out old feelings.

Warnings: not gonna lie it's really dark in the beginning, Anakin redemption, hurt comfort, good after care, CNC, Rape, Dom Vader, he thinks it's her pulling him into it but it's really the force forcing them together, it's complicated and dark, but feelings confession, part of a larger series, vaginal sex, blow jobs, orgasms, I've never written anything like this before so hopefully it's alright.

Chapter One: Revenge

It was beyond stupid to stay on the ship when they were being boarded by Imperial soldiers. You should try to escape on one of the fighters. Deep down you knew it was too late for that. If you were in your own ship it would have been possible. Your shoulders tensed as the Imperial ship came closer, you recognized a Force signature you’d certainly wanted to avoid. It wasn’t quite the same as it had been when he was a Jedi, it was twisted but still somehow him. You handed the ship over to someone else and grabbed your bag.

You never got the chance to go up against your former master. Something that Obi-Wan had said you should feel grateful for. He knew the two of you had more going on than what was appropriate for a Master-Padawan bond. To fight against someone you love, well, Obi-Wan still wasn't the same man. He was empty, a shell of what he once was.

You felt disgusted with yourself. You wanted to hurt him, knowing whatever damage you did would only be a fraction of the pain he had caused you. You wondered when this life would ever leave you behind.

His presence moved through the ship and you were sure that the plans beamed to them were going to be discovered. Another failed attempt. You hadn't been aware of their plan when you had agreed to pilot the ship. It was supposed to be a diplomatic mission.

“Just let him take me.” You had told the rebel leader. Her face pinched in annoyance.

“You do not understand what he’s capable of -” She started but you cut her off.

“No, you don’t understand now fuck off.” You snapped at her, she felt guilty that someone innocent would be sacrificed for her plan. You moved towards the landing bay. You turned the corner in the final hallway, smoke billowing everywhere from the blasters having been fired. He stood tall at the end of the hall. His features were masked but his presence was shaken by your gaze.

“Take her to the detention block.” When he finally spoke his voice was metallic and dark. Storm troopers flooded towards you and you went with them gracefully. You wanted to draw them off the ship and give these idiots a chance.

They checked you over once they got you into the cell. They took your bag, lightsaber, and blaster. You were truly a prisoner. Laying down the sleeping platform you tried to rest.

Meditation was never your favorite thing, but you knew that whatever happened next you would need your strength. Your mind went the same way it always did when trying to mediate. Memories flooded you and your heart clenched tightly, but as it had been for so many years, there was no Obi-Wan to scold you and put you on the right path. No Anakin laughing at you. Just pain and an embarrassing amount of longing.

The Force seemed stronger around you than normal, maybe this was the path it wanted you to take. You tried to manipulate it but it wasn't interested in letting you be in control, it was pulling you and weather you liked it or not you were on this ride.

The silence was a welcome change, your life had become very complicated recently with trade route disputes and the rebels constantly trying to recruit you.

You thought about the last time you saw Anakin. Rage flared through you and you wondered when that wound would ever heal. It festered inside you. You could push it down, keep busy, but if he was ever brought up you would get sick almost immediately. He’d pushed you away. Sent you away from The Order and The War only to blow himself up and take the Jedi with him. You did come across the full prophecy years later while on a side quest in the Dagobah system. Anakin didn’t choose to become a Sith, at the core of his creation he was a Sith. Your stomach twisted painfully. This information had haunted you for years. Did this excuse him? Did it mean he was evil the whole time? Did he choose this life over you or did he have a choice at all?

You felt his darkness prodding at your mind. You kept yourself shut down tight, no way you were letting him in. A com chimed and his voice echoed in your cell.

“It seems you have something I want.” He spoke slowly. “Go to the ship's lower quarters.” The door slid open and you sighed. You moved through the seemingly empty hallways. You followed the trail he set for you in the force. Doors sprang open and eventually, you knew you were in his quarters. The air was different and the lights were dimmed. You moved into the space and decided it felt suffocating. Artifacts were displayed throughout the room and a desk near the window was covered in the contents of your bag. He had carefully laid out every single item. Even the charm he had carved you all those years ago was lying amongst medical supplies and various books. In the center of the room was a large orb, and in the center a large throne-like chair. The rest of the room went to the right and was obscured from your view.

Once satisfied with your observation of the room you finally dragged your attention to the masked figure sitting on his throne.

“You called?” You said calmly. His gaze was hidden in his mask but you could feel it resting heavily against your skin.

“How have you been?” He asked in a dead voice. The sound of it was created to frighten people, it was nothing like Anakin's voice. You cocked an eyebrow at him and moved closer. “It’s not like you to be captured so easily.”

“You’ll have to excuse me, I never finished my training.” You said hoping it bothered him. You tried not to show him any emotion knowing it would only delight him. You looked out the window.

“I thought maybe you had come to me for that reason.” He said and you snapped your head to him.

“I’d die first.” The words were coated in venom. You wanted to fight him. He made an exasperated noise that reminded you of who he used to be.

“Fuck me.” You knew how the words were intended but the suite spoke them as a request rather than a whisper under his breath.

“Maybe I will.” You snapped back. It was an overused joke, said hundreds of times all those years ago. But this wasn't your Master, this monster before you was a stranger. He looked at you for a moment longer and you hated how hard your heart was hammering. You were waiting for his attack. Your mind had half a hold on your lightsaber across the room. The force was vibrating through you while also being completely resistant to your request.

His large gloved hands moved to the sides of his sleek black helmet. The sound of air escaping sounded and he pulled the top half off. Your hand immediately reached towards him before you dropped it at your side. The state of his skin made you want to throw up. It was badly damaged, but it looked fresh. As if he had just fallen into lava yesterday. He took the bottom half of his mask off. Then he worked on unfastening his top.

“What are you doing?” You said in a high-pitched tone. You wanted him to cover himself, you didn't want your heart to reach out to his obvious suffering. You didn't want him to have Anakin’s features.

“Can’t fuck you in all this.” There was a collar around his neck that kept his voice the same. His eyes were red and they burned into your skin. You realize then that he’s serious. Panic washes through you, but there isn't a clear escape. Your mind is still preoccupied by the sight of his damaged flesh and prosthetic arms. They were metal, just like his hand used to be. You assumed he would have had them replaced with the new kind of prosthetics. He kept his gloves on and motioned for you to come up the steps to him.

“Don't lie to me Padawan.” He growled. “I can feel you pulling at me in the force.” His voice made you shiver but it wasn't you pulling on the force, the force was pulling you.

You resisted then felt his force presence grip you. Your clothes started to move off of you and you tried to fight him.

“Come to me.” He said and you resisted now almost naked. His eyes feasted on your form and you didn't know how but you were going to make him pay for this. While your mind was frozen with rage and fear your body was more than happy to fall into him. He pulled you across the room till you were in front of him. It was hardly fair to be naked and displayed in this way. He’d stripped you down and was now enjoying the sight of you, sitting comfortably on his throne, legs spread. No way he would actually force you into this, but then again there was a running list of things you thought he would never do. Unfortunately, when he checked an item off of it he tended to do it with as much dramatic flare as possible.

“I won't.” You said firmly.

“You will.” His voice was tauntingly calm. He pulled you onto his lap and you tried to break his grasp on you. He had undone his pants and you realized this was actually happening. “You have something I want.” He whispered causing your body to shudder. To your horror he gripped your hips tightly. You felt your body coming undone in his presence. The force was useless, it was pulling you to together. You could feel it now, he could bend it but he couldn't control it entirely. It pulsed around you pushing you further towards him, preparing your body.

The head of his cock pressed against your entrance you expected it to hurt. His goal was to hurt you, to punish you, and probably get you to spill about rebel plans. This was a torture session. But as he pulled your hips down you could feel how wet you were. Your body opened to him easily. The feeling of being stretched out for the first time in years overwhelmed you. His eyes are red so deeply clouded with rage, something inside you broke as he bottomed out. You wanted to see his brown eyes. You wanted him to be Anakin. Your face flushed at this realization and he groaned.

“Even now you still need me” The words turned your face red with embarrassment and shame. They cut you. But there was no anger in your body, only need.

Vader settled himself in your tight cunt.

“Move.” His deep voice commanded. It was beyond cruel to force you down on his cock only to make you fuck yourself on it. Your hips moved as if working on muscle memory. You moved slowly and every time you bottomed out on him he moaned. The sound made you pick your hips up and do it again. You would probably do it forever if it meant feeling this again. The pleasure he gave made your mind hazy.

He did something unexpected, his hands were large enough that he could move his grip slightly and brush your clit with is thumb. Just then he used his other hand to push your hips down. His cock reached deeper inside you and you felt it swell within your tight walls.

“Show me how bad you’ve missed me.” He commanded and your body responded to his touch. You came, walls collapsing against his cock, you felt his seed flood inside you. Your body helped him off, just like it used to. You felt your defenses fall, as your forehead pressed against his shoulder. He moved within your mind pulling from you your worst memories. He searched for something inside you and his grip on your mind hurt. Years flashed before your eyes and he gripped your hips tighter and tighter as you relieved your worst moments. He growled as every part of you was in submission to him once again.

He picked you up and pulled you down. He was using your body now, and you hated how easy it was for him. You did nothing while he lifted you and slammed you down on his cock. The pressure started to build inside you again.

“Cum.” He commanded and you felt your orgasm grip you tightly. Your pussy choked on his cock, and he continued to move you through it. Once again he filled you. You were too far gone to push back into his mind but you could feel a certain ache in his chest. One that belonged to you. Tears formed in your eyes as you felt his emotions but not his thoughts.

You felt his force presence wrap around your body. You laid back in it like it was bathwater letting it caress you. You were fully on display and watched his eyes devour where your pussy swallowed his cock. He loved how you were on display for him, he loved pleasuring you. His feelings for you were deep and consuming. This thumb found your clit and you bucked your hips against him. He remained seated moving in and out of you slowly, eyes focused on how his cock fit inside you.

Eventually, he stood. He set a ruthless pace, hammering into you. But in your half conscious state, you could feel that every time his emotions peaked into rage it would quickly turn to something warmer. He hated that he couldn't hate you, that he couldn't hurt you. That as badly as you needed him, he needed you even more. While his grip and pace were rough, his force presence was soft. Touching you in the ways he missed being able to touch you. He was touch starved and wild with your body.

You felt his need for you and choked on it as if it were a hand on your throat. You felt hot tears stream down your cheeks as those deepest needs inside of you were finally held. You finally felt at home.

“Master.” The word rolled off your lips and then you couldn't stop saying it. You said it as if his old title could somehow bring him back to you. His voice was deep and he moaned loudly at your acceptance of him. He attacked your clit and your body was pulled under fully. Your vision was gone, and your ability to breathe was gone. You felt like you were going to die, maybe that was his desired outcome. You came for what felt like an eternity as he pumped more and more of his cum inside you. Finally, it’s grip on you ended and you felt him pull your limp body to his chest. His arms wrapped around you, the cold metal reminding you of what had been lost forever.

He held you tightly and you realized you were still crying. He tried to soothe you but the pain was inescapable. It took you a long moment to understand what it was. You weren't grieving him, you were feeling him. The pain coursing through his body at this moment. It ran the length of his spine and radiated out to what amount of limbs he had left.

Take this off - you demanded through the newly established force bond. You felt him hesitate before he realized he was hurting you too.

I don’t know if I can - He tried to unclasp it, only then did you feel his fear and then acceptance. It could be the only thing keeping him breathing, and yet he undid it regardless. Even if he died he had gotten his last wish. He held his breath and took the collar off. Breathing was challenging but not impossible without it. The pain diminished and you took a deep breath.

You took the collar from him and examined it, you quickly dropped it to the floor in horror. It had been designed to attach into his spinal column, disrupting his peripheral nervous system. The radiating pain finally stopped. Your fingers ran across the raw skin of his neck and you shuddered at his increased pain. You could also feel his pleasure, so starved for touch that he could adore your touches even if they caused him tremendous pain.

Take it all off - you urged him knowing it was the cause of most of his pain. He reluctantly pulled out of you and placed you on the edge of his desk. He slowly removed the rest of the suit and you felt him get lighter. You took in the full extent of the damage. The suit had been designed to dig into his flesh causing it not to heal properly. Your mind was still hazy but you reached out with the force and pulled a container of healing salve. It was so easy to feel and use the force now it felt strange to you.

No - He realized what it was the moment it landed in your hands. He picked you up quickly and carried you to the bathroom. He placed you down on the countertop and got a warm washcloth. He cleaned you carefully, then began to wash the rest of your body. His fingers run over the bruises forming on your skin. You could feel his distaste for the new scars that had been etched into your skin since the last time he saw you naked.

“I’m sorry.” He said, his voice thick with emotion. His voice. Anakin’s voice without that stupid collar. You squeezed your eyes shut feeling it run through you. He sighed feeling your chest split open for him.

He carried you once again through the space into a smaller room. It had a large bed covered with black silky sheets. He set you down in it carefully. He could feel your arousal at his tenderness and he planned to fully enjoy it despite having just washed you.

You used the force to pull him down this time. You got him on his back and straddled him. You could feel his disapproval but didn’t care. You grabbed the container of salve and started with the deep gashes in his neck. He let out a sound of relief and you covered his scalp and face before moving to his torso.

You felt him let his guard down completely, you had free run of his thoughts as you treated him.

“Anakin.” You had never used his first name and it felt strange in your mouth. His body tensed but you continued. “I don't blame you.”

The words may have been more for yourself than him. His hands gripped the sheets and you could feel how much pain he was in at your words. But when you could feel someone's heart it made sense. You had known of the prophecy in it’s entirety for around three years, and only now could you feel what they actually ment.The years of slavery, The Order - you felt his last interaction with you. How he had insisted you leave The Order. Leave the war. Only now did you understand what he was trying to protect you from. The loss of your companionship only made it easier for Palpatine to pull him in. All he wanted was order and control. After being in pain his whole life it made sense. Palpatine’s warning to him that you would die in battle rang through his mind and it was your turn to grip the sheets and clench your jaw. His last fight with Obi-Wan, how much he hated himself for it. Dark memories of his surgery came in bursts and it felt as if you were experiencing it with him. Every memory after that was coated in a thick syrup of pain. Palpatine's rage and manipulation are so clear to you now, the way he regularly lashed out and tortured Anakin.

The moment Palpatine told him you were dead. The feelings he felt in that moment hit you. He had really thought you were gone all this time.

I didn't intend to show you that - he sounded deeply uncomfortable.

I guess you had something I wanted as well - Before he had a chance to react and ruin all the carefully placed salve, you got down between his legs. You felt his vulnerability and knew that it was likely to snap sending him back into his cave, further into the Sith. You didn't fancy having to fight him after your muscles felt like jello. You closed your mouth around him wondering how you used to do this. It was sloppy and uncoordinated as you tried to remember how to get him down your throat.

His mind moved back to the first time you had ever done this. You re-lived your shared memory. It was late and you had been training well passed when you should have been. After years of unresolved tension, when you had him pinned on his back, you moved into the same position you were now. You’d read your first romance novel and couldn’t stop reimagining the scenes with your master. You begged him to let you do it. You wanted to please him and feel pleasure so badly it was driving you mad. He’d let you, but only for a moment before forcing you on your back and eating you out. He hated taking from you if he wasn't also giving you pleasure.

“Tell me I was the last.” He said before groaning deeply as you moved him passed your gag reflex.

Last, and only - You hated yourself for it, but his abandonment had twisted you up so badly you could never trust another to get that close again. You felt him slip into ecstasy at this revelation. Quickly he pulled you hair and dragged you off his cock with a pop as his head slid from your lips. He pulled you up onto the bed with the force and you landed on the soft sheets. The salve was dry and you thanked him for waiting.

He moved inside you quickly then stopped. The feelings vibrating through the both of you were so strong. There was still the towering darkness in him that you left untouched. You had some of Anakin back, that would have to be enough for tonight.

Search your feelings - he gasped. You did and could feel it pulse through you. The force was moving in both of you in a way you had never felt before. It was harsh and raw, it was something bigger than the living force. Something deeper. The realization of what it was choked you.

Love - Not something Sith did. Not like this. Not pure like what was running through the both of you. He fucked you slowly, and you felt his surprise when you kissed him. He moved in and out of you with a tenderness that brought you over the edge in a different way. Something had permanently bonded between the two of you. Separating was impossible, but which side would win out. Would you be Sith? Or Jedi? Or your preferred option of nothing.

This orgasm left you drained. There was nothing more you could do tonight. Your mind was gone, vision blurry with sleep. Your eyelids became heavy and you felt him get up. He came back with a damp cloth and cleaned you once more. You could feel his fascination with your skin and wanted to ask him about it but couldn't.

________

Vader had pushed you too far. Your mind collapsed from all the feelings and sleep took you. He held you tightly in his arms only drifting off for an hour at a time. He would wake up startled having to check that you were still real. Then he’d have to check your pulse, feeling it with the force until he would drift off again. The force was taking him on a different path. One he had given up on long ago. But he knew that you were stubborn, he had his way with you last night but tomorrow would be a different story. You would either go with him back into the light or leave him. The thought of losing this power crushed him, but knowing he could be loved again would be worth it.

A feeling overtook him and he realized he would do anything to live within your love for him. The way he had treated you was unforgivable, and yet you had so carefully tended to his wounds. Even after he had just inflicted wounds on your own flesh you still cared for his. He pulled the pot of salve from his nightstand and carefully applied the last of it to the deep purple bruises he had left on your flesh.

He felt sick. He went to the dark side to end the war and prevent your death. He had ensured that you were safely away before crossing over. Palpatine had told him you were dead. He’d believed it, unable to feel you in the force till that ship had come into range. He wanted you to be untouched by his evil and last night he had all but raped you with it. Forcing your body to betray your mind. If he could get up without waking you he would have gone to the bathroom and vomited. The pain he felt was so great he felt you jump in his arms. Your head lifted from his shoulder. Your hair was a mess and your eyes could barely open, puffy from crying.

Does it hurt - I can put on more salve. - Your words were hazy even in the bond.

Go to sleep - he pushed away his frightening thoughts and tried to be calm to sooth you. Your head fell against his shoulder and you were out cold again.

He didn't have to do right by The Order, Obi-Wan, or Palpatine. He just needed to do right by you with what time he had left. The force was strong with you and your choices, so he made the choice to follow

Chapter Two: Finding Obi-Wan

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