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yeyinde · 20 days

Note

Brain went brrrrrrrr

Price and the new 141 member getting into an argument. Price is all like if you don't behave ill take you over my knee girl.

She's all like I fucking dare you or you'll have to catch me first or even you don't have the balls.

🫠🫠

i’ve always wanted someone who was super by the book to clash with John “i routinely tell my superiors i’m going to maim/murder/hang them” Price. this gave me the perfect opportunity to do so.

noncon spanking. abuse of authority. power imbalance. size kink. mean, dom!Price. forced submission.

You have this way of getting under his skin.

An impossible itch. No matter how many times he picks and prods at his flesh, you worm beneath the dermis, burrowing deep. Sitting pretty against his goddamn bones. Festering.

Incurable.

He turns to vice to stem the irritation. Cigars. Whiskey. His hand shoved down his trousers like he's a fuckin' boy and not a man on the wrong side of forty.

Thinking of you—of breaking that smart mouth of yours on his cock.

It's the way you saunter around with your head held high, balancing golden eggs on your crown, that irks him something awful. The patronising drawl when you huffily remind him that what he's doing is breaking seven, no, ten, different laws, Price. You can't just do whatever you want, there are rules—

And that's the crux of it.

A difference of ideas. Experience. You still see the world in shades of black and white. Good and bad. Unwilling to acknowledge that the line between is saturated and blurred. A putrid muck that traps all. Bogish.

He knew it was a mistake when they sent him your file, asked if he needed the additional help. Hostage negotiator. He's heard of you. By the fucking book. You recite passages like it's gospel, turning printed words into a knife. A terrible fit for a team that works in the pivotal no man's land you claim doesn't exist.

Yet—

He takes you on. Brings you in. Buries his anger at your fucking gall deep in his chest where it rots. Grows. Swallows down the rage, apoplectic fury, when you undermine him at every opportunity, citing laws and regulations like it's a fucking prayer.

A calamitous decision, he knows. Terrible. But—

Despite it all, you're good at what you do. Brilliant. A budding rose germinating in fecund soil. You'll grow into something wild, won't you? Something untamed.

Under his hands, you'll bloom the prettiest. He knows this deep in his bones. But—

“You're breaking the rules, Captain—”

—pedantic little thing, aren't you?

Obediently following the wrong master.

It irks him. He's been known to step on the toes of his superior officers for less, caustic words hissing foul from between his teeth.

But unlike them, you're worth something. Even as the moral antithesis to his utilitarian dogma, he sees your potential. How you can shape this world dangling on a brittle thread if you lay down your senseless principles and follow him. Listen to him.

But of course, you don't.

And he supposes he ought to have known better. It's dripping gasoline over an open flame. The sequence of events is easily premeditated, seen, when you refuse to listen to what he says (“it's against the law, Price!”), walking away from him, his team, the mission, and take matters into your own, morally righteous hands. Bringing his underhanded methods to the desk of your superior officer, demanding he be investigated for crimes. The result is a loose warning from someone in a suit several sizes too big for them, and your fury when he pulls you back, has you assigned to another mission with the 141, with himself. Preens at your glower when you march back into his office, into his hands.

In the fallout, he has no one to blame but himself, really. Anyone could have seen this coming. But the thing about shirking his morality in favour of a better outcome—above all else—is that he doesn't have to.

And so, he doesn't.

No. He blames you.

(How perfect for him, then, that there's no one on base except you and him.)

“If you think I'm not going to report you again if you do something illegal, Price, you're wrong.”

He scoffs, shaking his head at your fucking audacity.

"Better watch that mouth of yours, Sergeant, or you won't like what happens next."

His palm itches when you look up, offering him a slow, feline blink. Leonine eyes creasing at the corners.

"And what is that, sir? I'm just doing my job—" it's whispered breathlessly, all faux professionalism even as jest leaks down your brow. They pinch, then. Drawing together in a mockery of confusion. "Isn't that what you wanted me to do?"

"What is that, mm?" He mocks, arms folding over his chest. He has to breathe through his nose for a moment. Gather himself together before he does something reckless, something like—

It's the defiant little jut of your chin that does him in. That unravels this fraying knot of control until threads slip through his fingers. Falling too fast for him to clench down on them.

He's threatened his superiors for far less. His kin, teammates. You have no one to blame but yourself for this, really. No one at all when he pulls his hand from where it's tucked under his armpit, curling rough, worn fingers around your wrist. Pulls you close, wrenching you into his chest until your nose bumps the buckle of his vest.

"'m'gonna take you over my fuckin' knee, is what's going to happen."

Your swallow is a gunshot. “You—you wouldn't dare—”

He leans in close, closer still. Breath scorching over your cheek. Preening when you bare your little teeth at him. “Wanna bet on that, Sergeant?”

It's easier than he would have expected to wrangle you over his knee, pinning you down with an arm across your lower back. The height of his chair keeps your front bent, belly pressed against his thigh. Ass seated perfectly in his lap. Precious gem.

He hums low in his throat, teeth sinking into the butt of his cigar as he locks you tight against him. Grabbing your wrist, twisting it up behind your back. Holding steady. A warning.

The dangerous twinge in your bone stills you.

One wrong move and he'd snap it in half.

This has you taking a different approach, legs falling limp over the armrest. Head dropping over the other side. Malleable in his grasp—however artificial it is.

“Price—” you breathe, winded. Panic on a spindle. “What are you—what do you think you're doing—?”

He hums, mouth tense around the cigar. Words muffled, slurred. “What I should have done a long time ago.”

“What—hey!”

Your words pepper off into a choked scream when his other hand falls to the hem of your pants, grabbing the fabric in his fist. The shock fades into indignation. Anger. He tastes it in the air as your hips squirm, legs kicking at nothing. Furious little growls spilling from your lips as you thrash, unconcerned by the ache in your bone.

“Better keep still, love,” he taunts, mouth curling over his teeth as he twists his hand high, higher, up the small of your back until your fingers brush the skin between your shoulder blades. Any more and he'll break it—

“I'm going to fucking—!” It ends on a whine. A whimper. The pain makes you shiver. “Fuck, fuck—stop, stop, ow, stop—!”

“Not a fan of a little pain then, mm?”

Your breath is ragged. Paints the air in a fine mist of defeat. He has you. The only option out of this is breaking your bone, a threshold no one is willing to cross.

Price purses his lips back around the cigar, inhaling once, thrice, before he slips his fingers out of the hem of your trousers, reaching up to take hold of the cigar. It's all so matter-of-fact. So nonchalant when he places it in the ashtray. When he brings his heavy, warm hand back to your ass, curling his fingers beneath the fabric. Pulling. Tugging.

They come off easier than he'd expected. A harsh tug, and the cleft of your ass is revealed. Plush skin curving enticingly as he rips them down to mid-thigh—panties and all.

The shock fades back into indignation. You hiss something foul under your breath that makes him huff out a chuckle.

“Not really in the position for that, are you, love?”

“Shut up—”

He likes the way you sound like this. Feral. Furious. There's ash in your throat. It blots soot around each word, giving them weight. Gone is the woman who barged into his office, sniffing like you smelled something foul. Backing him into a corner. Sputtering in his face about rules. Regulation.

Now you're bare-assed, panting, in his lap. Small little fawn in the maw of a bear. But oh, do you fight back—

Teeth bared, indignation bleeding into embarrassment, blotting pink in the whites of your eyes.

The sight is hewn into his hindbrain.

“Look at you,” he purrs, petting your cheeks. “Been beggin’ to be bent over my knee since you got here, haven't you?”

“Begging? Don't be—ahh!”

He brings his hand down with a small huff, eyes glued to your flesh. Watching it shake under his hand. The width of one swallowing up an entire cheek. So big is he that you're nearly made infinitesimal in his clutch. The thought makes him groan.

You squirm more in shock than discomfort. Head craning over your shoulder, eyes misting over with tears. Glaring at him.

“What the fuck, Price!”

He strokes your skin, feeling the heat of your flesh bleed through his palm. Resilient little thing, aren't you? He huffs again, blood buzzing. Electric. There's a kindling fire in his guts. Embers sparking, catching.

He can't deny how badly he's been wanting to have you like this. Craving your tears, your agony, your submission.

“Count,” he barks out, rough. Abrasive. “You're getting ten. Count ‘em for me, and if you miss one, I'm adding two more.”

“You're crazy, you're—!”

His hand comes down again. The impact shakes the fat of your ass. The strike makes you yowl, thrashing to get away. You don't get very far, still trapped in his hold. The threat of a broken bone keeps you from lashing out too wildly, and all you can really do is sit in his lap, and take it—

The notion has him groaning low in his throat. Something wicked spooling in his veins. Wanting. The sight of you heaving, bare-assed, and begging for mercy unleashes something inside of him. Something primal. Starving.

Price takes a breath to steady himself, head buzzing. Heart pounding. It feels like the euphoria of nicotine—all bliss, sedation. Ease.

Cathartic.

“I said count,” he rasps, words cinder in his chest. Smoke. Dragged up from that burning pyre in his belly. Nocuous, hungry. “That's an order, Sergeant.”

His hand is scorching against your skin. Thoughts turning over themselves as you hiccup in his lap. So pretty, he thinks, eyes flitting over to you. Taking in the sight of your shock, your denial. It tastes like fine wine on his tongue. Heady.

“Here comes one—”

“One?”

“I told you, didn't I?” His nail rakes across your skin, cruel. Mean. Something preens when you gasp. Your pain perfuming the air. “M’addin’ two more if you don't count. Thought your speciality was listenin’?”

You scowl, twisting back to level him with an awful sneer. “Oh, fuck you—!”

His hand comes down again, harder this time. Vicious. The scream is tangled in your throat, gagged. He feels pleasure—dark and ugly—bloom in his chest, dripping, liquid, down the length of his spine. The twist of agony on your face is beatific.

“Not gonna count?” He taunts, pinching your inflamed flesh between his thumb and forefinger. “We're gonna be here all day at this rate, love.”

He leans down, broad chest curling over the small of your back, hand cupped possessively over your cheeks. “But maybe you want that, mm? Maybe all this, mhm, insubordination has just been for show. You wanted this. Wanted to be taken over my knee—”

“You're wrong. I haven't—” it tapers off into a squeak when he pinches your flesh again.

Price pulls back, breathes shallowly through his nose.

“You and that smart fuckin' mouth. Told you it was gonna get you in trouble—”

He doesn't wait. His hand rears, and comes down with a loud smack that echoes in the sparse office he has you trapped inside. Your howl races alongside it, curling up the walls. Beautiful in all its agony.

“Christ—” it's a dagger to his resolve. You sound so fucking good howling like this. Oscillating between feral anger and pain, hissing vitriol between clenched teeth. Choking on sobs.

The first few are experimental. Testing the waters. Feeling. You're combative during it all. Fighting. Screaming. Each strike is uncounted, echoed only with a plea for help. One he knows won't come—

The only person on base is his Lieutenant. Ghost knows better than to barge in on his affairs.

“No one's comin’, love,” he grunts, sweat beading along his hairline, dripping down his temple. The room heats along with the blood in his veins, stifling and oppressive. He reinforces each hit with more strength, increasing the tempo until you're screaming on his lap, begging for mercy, mercy, please, please, Price stop, stop—

Your skin raises with each new strike. Swelling. Becoming inflamed. The perfect imprint of his handprint sits on each cheek, edges intumescent. The globes shake, shuddering deliciously under each hit.

He gets to eleven before you break. Tears streaming down your face, voice a threadbare whisper. Hoarse from screaming.

His hand rains down, slaps your left cheek so hard it stings his hand. Burns. You whimper. Mewling. Squirming on his lap, and then—

“O–one—”

He grunts, feels himself thicken in his trousers. “Good girl.”

You shudder, body breaking out in goosebumps. “Price—”

“Ah, ah, love. You're not allowed to speak unless you're counting.”

He hits you again, cock throbbing when you tense up, sniffling. Grinding out a soft two between trembling lips.

You don't break the way he wants you to. There's a glare on your face despite the tears, the sniffles. A defiance that burns over the bridge of your nose.

But that's fine. He has eight more strikes to ruin you, doesn't he?

He sets to it with a low moan, your pelvis pressing taut to his tumid cock, the friction raging in his guts.

But that, he finds, isn't really the point. No. The pleasure, the arousal, is secondary to the way you fall to pieces at his hand. Flesh stinging his palm with each loud smack that rings out sharply in the room. Uneven breaths. Shuddering little ah-ah-ahs that tumble out through clenched teeth.

It's addictive, this. Therapeutic.

There's static in his head. White noise. It renders everything else mute. Moot. Molasses drips down, thick and entrenching, congealing over every churning thought in the back of his head. There's a sense of peace, ease, he hasn't felt in years. In decades.

He feels his belly knot each time your ass jiggles, skin bulging up from the trauma of being hit so harshly. Chafed under his palm. Welts forming in the shape of his hand. A tattoo you'll have for weeks when he's through with you. Aching each time you try to sit. And fuck—

You'll think of him. Of this. Being taken over his goddamn knee like the bad fucking girl you are. Broken in over his lap. Helpless. Submissive.

The whimpers fade, replaced with shallow hiccups. Your throat is torn. Raw, ruined, by your screams, yowls. Each rasping whine sends jolts of pleasure down his spine. Liquid want molten in his marrow.

“S–seven, nngh—”

The moan slips out—scorched, bleached—and drills deep into his loins.

He peels his gaze away from your blistered skin, glancing at your face, but you duck from his view. Hide. Dropping your head over the armrest. Evading him.

It's new, this. This meekness.

You were so combative, so feral before. His gaze rakes down the expanse of your spine, over the curve of your cheeks, before settling, hot and heavy, at the crease where your thigh meets your pelvis. You squirm in his lap, thighs sliding together. Rubbing. It's no different from before when he'd spank you, but—

He catches it.

It glints in the soft light when you move, and he feels something dark, ruinous, curl in the tar-stained fibrils of his chest. Congealing in the crevasses. Hardening.

Price flicks his tongue out, swiping over his lower lip. The bristles of his beard graze the soft flesh, prickling across it. His throat is suddenly dry. Parched.

His hand comes down again, notably softer than the other hits he subjected you to. Almost—

Tender.

This isn't meant to hurt. Not this one.

He strokes his finger over your skin, cock throbbing with the rasping gasp that spills—a twisted amalgamation of pain, skin still smarting, burning to the touch, and—

His lashes flutter. Nostrils flaring.

Your slick, wet, between your inner thighs.

He slides his hand down, down, until your ass cheek is cupped in the bracket of his thumb and forefinger. Nestled tight. A perfect fit. The sight of your skin—soft, so soft—against his bearish, hirsute paw is sickeningly addictive. He grunts, pressing his thumb into the crease between your cheek and thigh.

“P–Price—”

And then he pulls, moaning deep in his chest as he peels the fat of your ass away, unveiling your cunt to his rapacious gaze. Fuck—

“What’s this?” He taunts, breathless. Pinched. You squirm, trying to press your thighs together. Hiding your pussy from his scorching stare. He doesn't let you. “Gettin’ off on me spankin’ your arse?”

“N–no, I'm—”

He pushes his thumb up, sliding it over your skin. Gathers your slick on the tip. “Don't lie to me, mm. You're fuckin' soaked.”

The air is punched from his lungs. Spills out in a wretched grunt. In the vacuum, something grows. Knots. Festering inside his chest. Animalistic. Primal. There's an itch in the back of his head.

He lets go of your arm, knows you won't run. Won't try to escape. No.

You're a good girl, aren't you? One who does what they're told. Follows orders. It tangles in the soporific slurry of his head, pitching a bivouac of need when you bring your arm down, curling it through the gap of the armrest, holding tight.

Bracing yourself.

His hum breaks in his throat. He drags his hand away from your cunt, reaching for the snuffed cigar idling in the ashtray. There's a fever in his veins. It makes his hand tremble. Shake. He needs the blunted drag of nicotine to quench this heady anticipation blooming in his guts. A brumous storm gyring inside him, an incipient maelstrom of want thickening. Intensifying. Threatening to spill over.

He needs something to steady himself before he tears into you like a beast—

You cock your head over your shoulder, staring at him with eyes drenched in midnight ink. There's a flicker across your tear-stained expression. Something coy. Feline. Leonine.

There's nothing said. Nothing needs to be. He finds what he's looking for in the fracture of your mien, and scoffs under his breath at your sheer gall. Little fuckin' minx.

Tobacco proves to be a paltry facsimile when he draws in a bursting mouthful. The restive glow of it dulled under the adrenaline coursing through his veins, heady. Syrupy. A roaring deluge of anticipation broiling in the balmy air, crackling around him like a storm cresting over the horizon. Ozone saturates in the thickening atmosphere.

Something will break. Shatter.

He tenses, waiting for the first stormcloud to breach, and drops his hand back to your tender ass. Stroking over the raised welts just to make you gasp. Your hips flex under the shocks of pain riveting down your spine, undulating in his lap. Pitched perfectly over his cock.

His breath shudders through a needlepoint. The friction is electric.

In petty retaliation—and just to see you squirm—he trails his knuckles over your heated skin, luxuriating in the way you shiver. Head falling back down over the armrest, beautifully alluring in your vulpine submission. His fingers dip between the cleft of your cheeks, feeling the slickness sticking to your soft, sensitive skin. Soaked between your thighs. Wretched girl.

His index and middle finger slide over your slit, parting your folds. He feels the small pulses of your drenched hole against his flesh when he slides over it with the press of his fingers. Eager little thing.

He hums under his breath at the sight of his hand seated across your hand, fingers shoved between the globes of your smarting ass. Soft and tender to worn and gnarled. The cropping of dark hair over his knuckles, his hand, against your bare skin is obscene. The picture of sin with your stricken flesh and his thick veins. The contrast curdled in the back of his head, morphing into something ugly and wanting.

Idly, he thinks of making you bounce your sore ass on his lap later, your pussy swallowing up his fat cock. Taking it all the way to the root. Over and over again. Breaking you on it until you're begging for mercy, until this little attitude of yours is crushed between his teeth.

Slick gathers against the rough pads of his fingers, drenching them. The hair on his knuckles is matted down, wet with your arousal. Naughty girl. He'll make you pay for that.

And for the puddle seeping into his trousers.

You mewl when he slips, sliding over your clit. The noise spilling molten over your lips, bludgeoning into his loins.

He drags in another mouthful of smoke. Lets it rot between his teeth as he drops the cigar into the ashtray once more, attention riveting to the slip-slide of your slick thighs rubbing together for friction against your aching clit. Cunt pulsing needily against his hand.

You haven't learned a damn thing at all, have you?

Smoke funnels out of his nostrils when he growls. “Spoiled, aren't you? Need to be taught a lesson in respect.”

“I, ah, am respectful, Captain—”

He sucks in a breath between clenched teeth. This lippiness of yours grates on his nerves. He wants you begging for mercy, limp in his hold. Pretty doll. Waiting obediently for him to put you back together again. Soft and submissive at his heel.

“Got three more to go, love.” You shiver when he strokes over your ass. Petting gently with wet, tacky fingers. “If you're a good girl and take it for me, I'll play with your pretty cunt, mm. You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

Price brings his hand down, grunting when you moan out his name. Sharp and needy. Your plaintive posturing is a spark inside a tinderbox.

“E–eight.”

The next one is harder, sharper. The force twinges his joints. Rattles through his bone.

It's unexpected, and the pain makes you yowl, body drawing tight like a bow. There's no pleasure when it's like that. No friction against your cunt. It's just—

“Price—!” You yelp, shrill and distressed. The lead up to this has been child's play. A soft hand to tender a nervous mare.

His old man taught him to never strike with the whip first but to wean them slowly.

He waits, humming mockingly to your pettering whimpers as you heave, tremulous, into the air. Shuddering in his grasp at the aftershocks of agony rippling through your body.

Waits. Waits. And—

“Ah, ah,” he tuts, cooing low and condescending when you gasp, craning your neck to level him with an imploring, pleading stare as you stammer out a frenetic nine in a breathless rush. Tears soak your lashline, clumping them together when you blink through another deluge pooling against the rim. Your lip wobbles. The stream breaks, spilling over. Fresh tears run down your wet, sticky cheeks.

There's real panic in the whites of your eyes now. That haughty, pedant gleam buried under pyretic desperation. Gone is the coy twist to your lips. The wily little bloom of amusement in your gaze.

Aw, poor thing. But—

Too late. “You didn't count. You know what that means, love.”

That knot in his chest unfurls, and leaks acid into his lungs. This want is corrosive. A poison. The sob breaks through your chest. The first thunderclap. He relishes in it. Leans back in his chair to bask in the potency of your unmaking.

“Good girl,” he husks out, burning lungs spewing black smoke into the air. “Just ten more now, love. Know you can take it for me, can't you?”

Pretty thing. He'll have that haughty attitude snuffed out before the end of the night. Have you begging for his touch, his cock, him, before the sun draws across the horizon.

Your ruination at his hand. The thought strokes along the kindling smouldering inside of his chest. Burning away at the pyre he's been building since the day he met you. When you looked up at him, pretty in your scorn, and disobeyed his command. Undermined him. So righteous in your fury. A burgeoning flame he wanted nothing more than to snuff out under his heel, and now—

Wide, wet eyes plead with him. “Please, Price. Please, please. I'll be good—I promise I'll be good, sir—”

—ash in the palm of his hand.

He strokes over your searing flesh, humming softly under his breath. “I know you will, pretty girl—” basks in the hiccup of relief you let out, lets it glue in his ears, echoing over and over again. So sweet.

He lets your relief live for a moment. Take its first breath of air through aching lungs—

“But I told you, didn't I? That I'd take you over my knee.” Price pats his hand over your cheek, shushing you when you startle, squirming on his lap.

“Now. Be a good girl and count for me, mm?”

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader

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iite-cool · 2 months

Text

thinking about simon being like a cat. a mean ol' one all teeth and claws, scratching and hissing when you stretch a hand out to him. biting you because that's all he knows how to do - it's all he's ever done - and it's kept him alive.

that's what his whole life's been about - staying alive. surviving. maiming anything he sees before it can get to him first. so he doesn't know how to react when you don't bare your teeth at him but just smile and make him tea. he reacts like a stray cat does when it's offered warmth - he's confused. and his confusion gives way to anger and again he spits fire because what else is he supposed to do? accept your kindness? bah! it's a hoax, he knows that. you'll tire of him and claw at his neck sooner or later so he'd rather not let you close enough to do so.

and when you don't give up, and you keep smiling that gorgeous, dazzling smile at him, he doesn't know what to do. no one's ever done this before - been all soft and sweet and only wanting to be allowed to scratch at his ears in reward. why were you doing this? why didn't you run away when you saw how he snarled at you? why do you look at him with those big, beautiful eyes like he's the only person in the world?

at a complete loss, he lets you pet him and oh that smile he'd let you tear his heart out if you would just keep smiling at him. "hey, simon!" god, he wants to drown in the sound of your lips wrapping around his name. you come close to him and his brain stops working, eyes wide and lost when you wrap your arms around him and pull him to you. warmth. is this what it feels like? he wants to live forever in the crux of your arms, creating a life for himself between them.

he couldn't stop smiling if he tried, if he were a cat he'd spend the rest of his time on this earth, the earth that tried to bury and kill him and is now making amends by sending him you, running between your legs and swishing his tail around you. simon riley who's always had his head on a swivel, who's not gotten a full night's sleep in a decade lest he miss the chance to look his reaper in the eyes, now sleeps with his head on your lap, belly up and purring.

masterlist

please comment/reblog!! i have so many thoughts about this man that need to be talked about

#inspired by the prettiest cat i've ever seen in my life #came to me and just flopped flat on her back #something something simon who's so guarded #simon who's never ever let his walls down because his father taught him that weakness means pain #simon who meets you and thinks he'd like to let his guard down for you but oh :( he doesn't know how to #simon who lets you scratch at him until he flops next to you belly up #exposing himself completely because god trust feels so good #idk I'm yapping but I love him and I want to give him tummy rubs #simon fluff #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #simon x reader #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #vi.writes

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fanaticsnail · 12 days

Note

Can you write something romantic for yandere Mihawk? Like a drabble or headcannons?

🐈‍⬛

I don't think I've ever written yandere before, but I wanted to give it a go. I hope this is what you were looking for! 🖤🐌

Obsession

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,200+

Synopsis: Many believe Mihawk keeps the knowledge of his spouse a secret because he is a private man. Truth of it is, he is simply obsessed with you and doesn't believe any other pair of eyes is worthy of meeting their gaze with your majesty.

Themes: yandere!Mihawk x gn!reader, possessive attitude, obsession, infatuation, pining, longing, lusting, love, romance, kissing, yandere trope.

Notes: I will do anything to write a man in love. I love how period-drama romance looks on Mihawk, and I couldn't not write him with a little bit of a possessive flavour. I made the banner with OPLA's Mihawk wanted poster.

Tag list: @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry @mfreedomstuff @gingernut1314 @jintaka-hane @daydreamer-in-training @carrotsunshine @indydonuts @i-am-vita @sordidmusings

While many were aware that Dracule Mihawk was married, they simply presumed he was a very private man. He enjoyed keeping to himself, and allowing himself the courtesy of remaining in solitude with his spouse while tending to his title as World's Greatest Swordsman.

In some aspects, he did. He did enjoy keeping to himself and remaining in solitude while he lived in the high keep of his castle, surrounded by swirled mountains and his well-tended gardens. But at the crux of his entire life, the center of his world and the prized diamond in his vast treasury, was you.

You ruled his heart, controlled his chin and the direction his gaze fell with a simple whisper of a word or the scent of your perfume. He was a man consumed, humbled by his infatuation to the point where his love fell into captivated, depraved fixation.

To put it simply, Dracule Mihawk wanted to keep you all to himself. He was a man consumed by his bewitchment and infatuation with the owner of his heart.

He was never one for sharing, never joining a crew or forming a bond other than rivalry with another person. As soon as he met you, everything changed for him. His heart soared, his breath was stolen from his lungs, and his eyes never strayed from honing in on your beauty.

He wasn't sure what it was you did or didn't do that had him fall to his knees and begin to worship at your altar. All he knew was he wanted you so desperately, craved to be by your side always, and wanted to shy you away from the wandering eyes of all whom he deemed unworthy to have their gaze fall upon your majesty.

When your courtship first commenced, he attempted to keep his tribute humble and small. But as your eyes lit up at the first offer of a simple rose he carved from his favored floral shrubbery, he knew he wanted to spoil you with lavish luxury. Each gift was catered to your interests and tastes, items you never thought he paid enough mind to your conversation while promenading, hand interlaced within the crook of his elbow.

He paid mind to it all. The way your voice changed when speaking on your passions, the questions you asked him about his life before working for the World Government, how you paused in the garden and listened to the sweet chirps of birds begin courting their mates. He hung on your every word, movement and motion.

For someone so stoic and reserved, the way his heart melted for you the moment your eyes met was as if his cold vessel was chaperoned into the bright light of a warm sunset. He couldn't get enough, and when he was certain you returned his love, he refused any exchange of dowry for your hand.

He wanted you to be his just as much as he desired to be yours. That was more than enough for him, and he would never leave you for wanting or without for all the days of your life.

The first time he was summoned to perform his duty as a warlord for the World Government after your marriage, he was overcome with rage at the thought of leaving your side. He almost took the head of the carrier bird with the summons for his assignment, but withheld his violent act at the sight of you offering the bird your Berry, and gifting them your palm filled with sunflower seeds.

As soon as the bird fled, he lifted your palm within his own, brushed the darkened casings of the remains from the seeds' shells, and rose the flesh to his lips to kiss away the indents of pecks the bird left in raised welts on your skin. Cupping his bearded chin, you rose his amber eyes to meet with yours.

“I will return to you,” his voice mourned for you above the softest whisper, “I will always return to you.” Leaning his cheek and chin into your palm, he closed his eyes and furrowed his brows in deep yearning.

“You are always so good to me,” you responded in a tone that mirrored his own, prompting his eyes to snap open and gaze deeply into your own. “I trust you to find your way home once you conclude this contract.” Ushering his face closer to you, you whisper against his lips before fully making contact, “I will be right where you left me, waiting for you to return.”

Mihawk's eyes darkened, his pupils blown black and eclipsing his honey-hue with the intensity of his possessive gaze. He knew he was many things to you, and good was far from a sentiment he held for himself. His desire to keep you secret was not to keep you safely tucked away from those who wished to do him harm, but because he was truly a selfish man.

As your lips closed in around his own, he was ready to commence his enthusiastic consumption of all that you had to offer him. Each kiss he pressed into you felt both like the first time he had ever felt such passion, and the last time he was ever to claim such a prize.

Hands clawing at your hips, he drew you flush with his own and angled his chin to deepen the oscillation. Tongue darting out to taste yours like a delicacy he was never again to roll over his palate, the muscle ground against your lips and lewdly consuming your kiss with lusting desire.

Both pulling away from one another, he rested his forehead against yours and took a moment to catch his breath. Eyes closed and brow lowered, he shared breaths with you and savored every moment you shared with one another.

“I crave the day we meet again, my precious consort,” he pressed his lips to your forehead, “My guiding light to point me home,” his lips dart down to claim your cheek beneath it, “The crown jewel in my treasury, and reigning monarch of my very soul.” He pressed a chaste and longing kiss once more against your lips before pulling away.

“Always so charming, my love,” you smile up at him, removing your hands from his face and smoothing over his leather shoulder pads of his outer great-cloak. “I will be right here ready to receive you, as I always am.”

“My beloved,” he whispered, his eyes falling half-lidded and dark eyelashes fluttering from your lengthy confession.

“My dear,” you breathed his whisper within your chest and replaced it with your own. You pressed your lips to his cheek, an offer of your blessing to embark on the next chapter of his journey.

Dracule Mihawk was a man consumed with the love he had for his counterpart. He rued each day to depart from your side, and would have no quarrel with offering his opinion as such to the official whom summoned him.

Truthfully, he was a man infatuated by his spouse that it bordered on domination by his strongest emotions, but choosing to keep them beneath the surface to not tighten you with his intensity. It was his addiction, his fix in a world full of darkness and torment.

He was your loyal zealot, knight and fierce protector, and you...

You were his obsession.

#one piece #x reader #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #ask snail #snail answers #dracule mihawk #yandere #one piece x reader #mihawk #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #gn!reader

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foxy-alien · 2 months

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Page (4/14)

I wanted to share my process for my 14 page Nona comic, This got pretty long so the rest is under the cut!

First, I start by making a script, as I'm weeding through Nona I’m drawing immediate reactions. This way I don't have to keep track of action as well as dialogue. This is the most dialogue heavy page of the comic so this one has the most detailed panel break ups.

In this scene Alecto’s inner thoughts are my favorite part so I dedicated a lot of time figuring how to add them naturally. I especially love “The old man, Crux—the child Crux, barely one hundred years old”

Once I have a rough, and I mean ROUGH thumbnail for the page I move on to creating a digital sketch.

Side note, you’ll notice I go back and forth from traditional to digital back to traditional. Having to fully redraw poses multiple times makes me really think about the action and what I want to include.

Thumbnailing is for figuring out panels. Sketching is for action and dialogue. I tend to show action and emotion over following all the rules of comic making. If you notice i break the 180 rule, but at the end of the day character interactions are more important to me.

I redraw the sketch on comic paper in mechanical pencil. Again I don’t trace the digital work because I want the linework to stay loose. I just focus on lineweight and contrast at this step. The dialogue is written out first then I line everything else with my felt tip pen.

I clean up the comic and replace the handwritten dialogue with a font I made out of my handwriting. This part is tedious but I really don't know how to skip it. My handwriting is too hard to read but I also need to make sure all the dialogue fits naturally, so that means doing it twice.

My coloring process is really chaotic and can't be summed up in screenshots.

Crazy right? I am constantly adjusting, changing, and generally making a mess and then cleaning it up when I color. Often when my colors look off to me it's because I have a contrast problem, so I check it in greyscale.

If you want to know more I can share my brushes and techniques.

And with that I’m done! And then I move on to the next page.

#my art #my process #tlt #the locked tomb #tlt fanart #gtn #gideon the ninth #gideon nav #gideon tlt #gtn fanart #ntn #nona the ninth #ntn fanart #tlt comic #the locked tomb fanart

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hollowingearth · 3 months

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I'm sorry but the more I think about the Rebirth ending the more I love it actually like. The whole trilogy has been a meta commentary of sorts and, specially, Aerith's death is at the epicenter of it. She both dies and doesn't die exactly because us, as an audience, want both things to happen.

People have been clamoring to be able to save Aerith since 1997, there were fake hidden hacks, AU fictions, retellings, everything. Everyone has been at Squeenix's doorsteps begging them to let us save her. Like, it's at a point where the "Square will let us save Aerith if you pay for the DLC" joke is much more than a decade old.

On the other side, there's this very expressive unwant for any change whatsoever from the source material. It's not a feeling that is exclusive to FF7 either, there's this very clear pushback against any new remake/adaptation that deviates, even slightly, from it's original. People don't want new content, they want the old one they experienced when they were younger, but prettier, they want to both feel the nostalgia and experience everything as if for the first time again.

From that camp, I think the most prominent argument is that FF7 is about loss, right? And they're not wrong. Aerith's death is the crux of the story, it's the very thing that made FF7 as known as it is, there would be no actual weight to what it's trying to tell if the heroine doesn't die in the middle of it, an unexpected, hurtful, avoidable death. What's the point of a narrative about grief if you can just... avoid losing someone? Avoid having it be cruelly taken from you?

And yet, you see, if want someone to die, if you want something to be taken from you, are you really losing it? In the original, part of the impact was that no one could see it coming, it was a straight representation about how death is sudden and takes away opportunity from you. Aerith doesn't go into the sleeping forest willing to make a sacrifice for the greater good, she has barely started her adventure, she makes a promise to go on the highwind, the group is one location away from finding out more about her ancestry and her family.

That's not true for the remake, tho. Everyone knows about her fate, about what is going to happen to her. That's probably the most spoiled moment in video game history. I personally knew about her death before I truly understood what Final Fantasy even was. So now we have an audience that is extremely aware of what, when and how her death is going to happen. That's why the Confluence of Worlds is put at that moment, because it's the single most expected moment in the entire triology, it's the one moment that made the narrative resonate so well.

The impact is impossible to recreate now, even for newer fans of the series. People want a 1:1 retranslation but such a thing would always be a gimmicky shadow of it's original. It's why the focus shifts, now the most emotionally impactful scene is not the killing of her but of her goodbye, in the church after the dream date. "Thank you," Aerith echoes "It's been fun", a callback to her conclusion on Remake where she says "I'm grateful for all the words we shared. All the moments and the memories. You've made me more happy than you know."

So she dies and she doesn't, both at the same time. Effectively in limbo now, narratively explained by lifestream shenaningans. We put her there ourselves, by refusing to move on, refusing to accept her death but also refusing to change, allowing a different outcome. I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing, at least, Aerith's words sound like the very sincere feelings of the developers, who are grateful for all the love we all have powered into their work all these years.

I just love it so much, I could spend hours talking about it.

#ff7 rebirth #ff7 rebirth spoilers #ff7 remake #final fantasy vii #aerith gainsborough #aerith #meta analysis #ff7

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yanfeisty · 1 year

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— Voicelines about Creator!Reader (Liyue) ♡ ！

⊹ [ characters ] — Beidou, Chongyun, Ganyu, Hu Tao, Keqing, Ningguang, Qiqi, Shenhe, Xiangling, Xiao, Xingqiu, Xinyan, Yanfei, Yaoyao, Yelan, Yun Jin & Zhongli. ◞

⊹ [ synopsis ] — let's see what they think about you. ◞

⊹ [ cw ] — religious theme. ◞

⠀‣ Beidou

About The Creator: Relaxation

"We had to bring them to Inazuma for a few times, apparently they really wanted to travel with The Crux. Take important person like this isn't really what we do but you know my eye for people, Y/n seemed to be more than what we heard, they were a good travel buddy, playing with the crew and telling interesting stories from another world. Sad, the guards with them don't let them drink 'A drunk God in Inazuma? What would they think?'... But who cares what they think, they should let them have a bit of fun!"

About The Creator: Consort

"You can say traveling has brought us closer, haha! I'm really happy to have find someone like them. I'll never forget the celebration we had on the ship, the weather was kind to us this day, and the food was far better than what we're used to eat, and how could I forgot the drinks, I never saw Y/n that... wild, it's quite the experience, but it's good to see them without having to worry about anything."

⠀

⠀‣ Chongyun

About The Creator

"Like me they have an energy that keeps away evil spirits from them, I suppose spirits are too scared to approach in fear of vanishing into fin air. So, I wonder why people still ask me thinking they need an exorcism, last time, we called me because apparently the Creator had an unusual behavior, rambling unknown words beyond any language experts' knowledge, turned out they just had too many drinks with the leader of The Crux..."

⠀

⠀‣ Ganyu

About The Creator: Relating

"The Qixing had to work a few times with them, and I noticed they always seem a bit anxious so I always try to help them when I can, maybe it's also because I relate to them a bit, they are our Creator but they act more like a mortal, they are trapped between two worlds, leading to confusion not only for them but also others, which would always lead to critiques..."

About The Creator: Consort

"I have still a lot to finish about this, people from all regions will come so we need to strengthen the Millelith to keep everything in order, the music group that was supposed to perform left us so I have to look through the applications again, I need to verify the special invitations just in case there's an error in the date or location. Also, I'll have to go soon for the Sumeru's flowers that should arrive this afternoon. An union between who, you ask? O-Oh... me and Y/n of course! Sorry if I wasn't clear. There's no need to worry about me, I just want everything to be perfect, I don't think I will be able to not blame myself if something bad happened, I know Y/n told me they'll be happy no matter what as long as I'm with them, but that just makes me want to work more for a perfect ceremony."

⠀

⠀‣ Hu Tao

About The Creator

"Even the most superior being needs a long rest sometimes, if it's meant to happen again, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor would be more than honored to prepare a noble ceremony for their departure. Better be quick, and offer them our buy one get one free special!"

⠀

⠀‣ Keqing

About The Creator

"Due to their return, people expect them to rule over Teyvat, which includes Liyue. People also pray to them for the minor inconvenients... *sigh* We can't rely on Gods for everything, we're perfectly capable to survive as our own, and Y/n don't seem convinced to govern alone, even before their death it was never said that the Creator was the one who ruled Teyvat, they simply enjoyed interacting with their creations."

⠀

⠀‣ Ningguang

About The Creator: Tour

"It is a great pleasure to welcome a such honorable guest into Liyue, especially when they were the one who helped us to save our nation. As the Tianquan I was more than glad to have the chance to make them visit the city, it was cute to see them insisting to pay even with no mora on them."

About The Creator: Consort

"I've heard people telling that I accepted their proposal to make my items more valuable and attract more persons to come and make deals in Liyue. In short, our marriage is just a business partnership and not an act of pure love. You... don't believe that, do you? Y/n is worth more than any amount of mora for me, and not because they're the Creator. I know I don't need to prove myself to anyone but I'm concerned if one day Y/n will listen to those rumors."

⠀

⠀‣ Qiqi

About The Creator

"I don't remember who this is... Sorry."

About Y/n

"Y/n is the one who gave me a finch, I named it just like them because they're both nice with me, so when I forgot one of them I just need to look at the other to remember... Uhh, who were we talking about?"

⠀

⠀‣ Shenhe

About The Creator: Disciple

"My family was from a clan of exorcists so they were followers of them, the clan sent prayers and asked for blessings when performing an exorcism. When my mother died, not only did my father abandon me but them too. Maybe that's why I became one of the Acolytes."

About The Creator: Consort

"My master insisted to meet Y/n, not only because they're the Creator but my partner, she wanted to meet the one who 'tamed my heart'. When they did meet, let's say both of their personalities didn't really match well together which gave... an interesting show, but at the end they agreed to share and listen to stories of my childhood..."

⠀

⠀‣ Xiangling

About The Creator

"They told me about dishes from their other world, just hearing about them makes my stomach growl, I'd love cook those dishes if they ever feel homesick, not only can food be delicious but bring warm feelings, and not just because it's hot! But I also love making them try food from here and they always seem to like and excited when I bring them a nice cooked meal!"

⠀

⠀‣ Xiao

About The Creator: Unusual

"They're a God, the oldest one, and yet their body and mind are just as weird and vulnerable as a human."

About The Creator: Consort

"Hm... Yes, about that. Could you help me with something? They always seem to care about me a lot, trying to heal me and making me food, even though I need none of this, but I heard it's expected to show gratitude to the person who cares about you. Since they act more like a human, I don't know what should I offer them. Flowers? Hm... Maybe something that gives me more work, picking up flowers isn't enough to thank them for everything they have done for me. Flowers crowns? I mean... I guess I can try to make one. You think that would make them smile if I had one too? Fine... Show me how to do it."

⠀

⠀‣ Xingqiu

About The Creator

"Ah, they're quite the difficult topic to avoid. My presence was required when my family invited them for a warm welcome to Liyue, I cannot say more as it was a private meeting, but I didn't imagine them with such a casual and clumsy personality, if you would have seen the faces of my father and brother, hehe... Just to say another meeting won't come anytime soon."

⠀

⠀‣ Xinyan

About The Creator

"Who'd think that someone like them would like my performance? Even better, they encourage it! I mean, that's understandable, staying with the most uptight persons and doing boring work all day... Can't even imagine the nightmare, they certainly got the rock 'n' roll's spirit!"

⠀

⠀‣ Yanfei

About The Creator

"Ah... Yes, I'm aware that because of their position we allow them more than we should, but it's not like anyone mind or they do anything bad, the worse that happened was them and Xinyan being a bit too loud. I've heard of a fireworks show in all of Inazuma and a wanted gang getting out of prison, but it's outside of my territory to talk furthermore."

⠀

⠀‣ Yaoyao

About The Creator

"They're always so heavily guarded, so you can always be sure they are in good health with no injuries, but I do worry about how they feel with being followed by people who watch your every move all day. So, whenever I see them, I ask how are they and I always have a ration of their favorite food with me. If you encounter them, tell hi from me and to take care!"

⠀

⠀‣ Yelan

About The Creator: Easy target

"If you knew the number of cases related to them, from little scammers to hitmen, there sure is a great variety. Since the Creator has a more powerful influence than strength, criminals think they are the perfect target for great sum of mora, but they sometimes underestimate a bit too much those close to the Creator and I'm not talking about the Millelith."

About The Creator: Consort

"Shh, not so loud. Surprised, aren't we? That means we're doing a good job at keeping it as a secret. I don't want to be known and blow up my cover, plus with the danger it can attract to them, so we can't announce it publicly but it's not that bad, seeing others thinking they have a chance with them is a funny show, unless Y/n feels uncomfortable, to this I'll attend to it personally when nobody is watching."

⠀

⠀‣ Yun Jin

About The Creator

" 'Through a simple whisper, thousands winds started to blow. Hands drew a river, rising waves emerged from the flow. Love was poured into the earth, and life began to grow~' Aren't these beautiful lyrics? There's a few operas about the Creator as we didn't know them much. We invited them but they appeared a bit embarrassed, which I can understand, so I try to sing tales that aren't about them and might fit their taste. I'm used to hear praises but their enthusiasm about my singing never fails to delight me."

⠀

⠀‣ Zhongli

About The Creator: Hopeful future

"I was surprised to hear about their reincarnation, especially about memories from another world. I had the occasions to talk to them, even if they may seem lost sometimes and lack experiences, the love they share for this world is real and the people around them returns this feeling, with a modern and ambitious mind like them, I'm sure the future of Teyvat will be bright."

About The Creator: Consort

"You want to know more about our contract? Well, our feelings for each other were mutual and we had the same promise which was to keep the other safe and happy, naturally we came to do the ultimate promise to stay together until death separates us, but I fear even this won't be able to break our contract, one that I shall forever cherish and respect. They're quite busy but I stay patient for them to come and see me when they finish with tea that I prepared for relaxing them after a stressful day."

@ �� ׅ : @haileyo0ostuff

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shaunamilfman · 3 months

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you must like me for me [1]

summary: You weren't sure what you did to piss off Shauna Shipman, but you've been on the receiving end of her death glares for just as long as you can remember. If looks could kill you'd certainly be six feet under, but hey–it's kind of hot, right? For better or worse, everything changes after a run-in at a party. A/N: NSFW. the "shauna hooks up with you instead of jeff" au that you know and love. Part 2 | Part 3

Click. Click. “Fucking work,” Nat muttered. Click. Click. Click. “Piece of shit.” She hits it against her palm a few times before trying again. Click.

Stay calm. Deep breaths.

You bury your face into your hands with a heavy sigh as Nat keeps flicking uselessly at her lighter. “Are you done yet?” You ask wryly, voice muffled by your palm.

“Nope,” Nat comments, purposefully flicking it louder. The grating sound of her empty lighter catching was starting to drive you insane, and you both knew it would only get worse. You groan as you pull back to glare up at her, dutifully rummaging through your jacket pocket for your own lighter.

There's the beginnings of a smirk clearly visible on her face, and you realize with a sudden clarity that annoying you had been her goal the entire time. You almost want to keep it from her on sheer principle, but she'd just find another way to irritate you if you did. Pissing you off seemed to be one of her few passions in life. Do what you love and you never work a day or some shit. If only she took algebra this seriously.

Your hand wraps around the cold metal, your thumb rubbing soothingly over the familiar gouges on the surface. You dreaded having to hand it over, already quietly mourning its comforting weight as you held it loosely up in front of you. It was just a lighter, sure, but it was your favorite lighter. You were aware that it probably wasn’t all that healthy to use a lighter as an emotional crux, but you figured that was a problem for a later you.

Nat shoves her bic back in her pocket with a crooked grin, reaching for yours and snickering as you jerk it away from her. “Don't be a dick,” She says.

“I want it back, Nat,” You warn. Nat rolls her eyes as she nods, leaning over you to snatch it out of your hand. You let her take it easily, relaxing back against the wall as she finally lights up. Nat exhales slowly, relief evident in her voice as the familiar smell washes over you. You weren’t particularly fond of the smell, but you doubt many people were. You’d smoked here and there when Nat was feeling particularly generous, but it wasn’t a habit you planned on picking up.

You were much more content to watch, basking silently in the smoke of whichever of your friends you’d followed outside. That’s how you preferred to experience most of the world, watching quietly until something caught your attention. Nat called it ‘brooding’, but you preferred to think of yourself just as the silent type. Nat laughed her ass off the one time you mentioned it to her, calming herself down only to randomly burst into laughter for the next week whenever she thought of it.

Since then you’ve decided to keep that to yourself as well, aghast at the idea of giving Nat more ammo to use against you. Nat was your best friend, sure, that was undeniable. Still, she could be a real bitch when she wanted to– it’s part of why you got along so well in the first place.

“Jesus,” She laughs out suddenly, cigarette held loosely between two fingers as she gestures across the room. “If looks could kill.” Your eyes follow the gesture absentmindedly, grinning as you catch sight of a murderous-looking Shauna staring down Jackie and Jeff across the room. Your eyes widen at the sheer rage she's giving off– you're not sure you've ever felt that strongly about anything in your life.

There was something about the intensity of her face that made it difficult to tear your eyes away from her. She looked fucking psychotic, like the kind of expression you'd catch on the eleven o'clock news as someone insists that ‘he just seemed so normal’. Honestly, you wouldn't be all that surprised to find out Shauna Shipman already had a trail of bodies behind her. You eye her arms interestedly– she'd certainly be strong enough to carry the body off.

Still, if Shauna's looks could kill you would've been dead a long time ago. You've been on the receiving end of that particular look so many times that it lost its intended impact a long time ago. You weren't quite sure what you'd done to piss her off, but you quietly thanked yourself for it. You knew she meant it to be intimidating, but the way you shivered under her gaze was never quite as fearful as she probably hoped.

That flaming anger in her eyes that you worried might burn you from the inside out if you weren’t careful only made you want to press more. You wanted so badly to see what would happen when she finally lost it on you. Shauna was dangerous, as you more than well knew. You’ve seen evidence of that more than just about anyone else: always carefully lingering by the edge of the crowd as Shauna started swinging.

There was something about her then, something utterly enticing in her fury. She seemed larger than life in those moments, all civility leaving her body as she became something to truly be reckoned with. The dead look in her eyes and the harsh look of fury as she lost control of whoever was stupid enough to start shit with her. It was almost intimate.

As many times as she’d glared you down she had never actually tried to swing on you, as much as you sometimes wish she would. You had a pretty similar reputation, and you were more than a little curious about which one of you would come out victorious if ever came down to it. You don’t think you’d mind the result either way in all honesty. You would count yourself lucky to lose a fight if it was to her. Not, of course, that you’d let her win. That would take all the fun out of it, all of the struggle.

You’ve spent more time than you’d care to admit thinking about how her knuckles would feel tearing into your flesh, your face rocked from side to side with the force of every blow as she used the full strength of her body to really lay into you. You liked to imagine the way her fists would look stained with your blood, her heavy breathing above you as she tired herself out beating her fury into your body.

So, yeah. You were perfectly normal about Shauna Shipman.

“Hey,” You hear a soft voice say, glancing away from Shauna at the sound of fingers snapping right in front of your face. You turn to glare at whatever asshole is in your face, trying to hide your surprise at finding Jackie in front of you. Jackie takes a half step back at the look, hesitation melting into determination as she does her best to stare you down in return.

You can’t help the way a smile tugs at the corner of your lips: Jackie’s attempt at a glare is more funny than scary. Her eyebrows narrow in determination, but she seems more confused than intimidating. Had she walked up to you on the street you probably would have tried to give her directions. Her lips twisted into a scowl, but you could tell her heart wasn’t in it. It was as if she was imitating a storybook villain more than anything else. She probably should have practiced it in a mirror a few more times before debuting it.

You appreciated the valiant effort but decided she ought to leave the intimidation to Shauna. She seems to come to a similar conclusion, looking down at her feet to hide a slight flush on her face as she awkwardly rocks back on her heels.

“Did you seriously snap in my face?” You ask, amused.

“You were like totally zoned out,” Jackie defends, rolling her eyes when Nat snickers.

“So you snap in my face?”

“Come on,” Jackie draws out, pouting up at you. “It worked, didn’t it? Besides, that was like five minutes ago now.” You scoff, but decide it was probably best just to let it go at this point.

“Did you want something?” You prompt.

“Oh! Yeah,” Jackie laughs, waving a joint she seems to pull out of nowhere in your face. “You have a light, right?” You glance at her curiously, before shrugging. You look over your shoulder at Nat who thumbs your lighter open, quickly lighting it up before stuffing it back in her pocket.

Jackie grins as she takes a hit, purposely blowing the smoke in your face as you narrow your eyes at her. Normally you’d excuse it as typical Jackie Taylor brand irritation, but you have an odd feeling that she knows exactly what she’s doing. Her eyes betray just a hint of a smile as if she’s in on a joke you weren’t meant to understand.

You open your mouth to say something in return, probably antagonistic, but Jackie holds the joint out towards you in a peace offering. You consider it for a moment before taking it, deciding there were definitely worse ways to spend a Saturday night. Besides, free weed was free weed. Even if it was somehow already stained with Jackie’s lipstick.

You inhale slowly, purposely blowing out into Jackie’s face. She scowls at you, but quickly gets over it as she snatches it back. You talk to a loose and happy Jackie Taylor for a while, too engrossed in the conversation to realize Shauna's death glare had long since shifted targets.

…

“No,” You say firmly. Nat gives you a sad look as she glances up at you.

“No,” You repeat again, hesitating this time. Nat, sensing weakness, immediately holds her hands together in a pleading gesture, making you roll your eyes. “Fine,” You start to walk off in search of the kitchen. “But I'm going to get you the warmest can I can find.”

You can faintly hear Nat shouting “Booooo!” As you turn the corner but decide to ignore it. You bypass the ice chest as you see a can sitting off to the side, clearly set down and forgotten. Still, it was definitely unopened. Perfect.

You're about to walk back into the living room when you catch sight of a flashing light through a window. Your eyes widen as the siren sounds, the flashing blue and red lights bright in the darkness.

Shit. Nat was on her own.

The music comes to a dramatic stop as everyone else seems to come to the same conclusion, but you've already slipped out the backdoor before the shouting starts. You run blindly through the forest, waiting until the lights aren't quite as visible in the distance before coming to a stop. You lean against a tree as you catch your breath, silently laughing at the dismayed shouts as people on the edge of the woods are caught.

You duck behind a fallen tree at the sound of a stick breaking, wondering how they'd even get out to you so quickly. The sound of snapping branches only gets louder, quickly approaching your location as you start to hear the sound of heavy breathing. You watch in disbelief as Shauna runs right past you, rolling your eyes as she doesn't even seem to notice you.

“Shauna,” You whisper harshly. She whirls around in confusion, a slight fear on her face till she seems to just barely make out your face in the dark.

“Y/N,” She mutters irritatedly. You give her an unimpressed look despite knowing she wouldn't be able to make it out from that far away.

“Don't sound so excited to see me,” You mutter. Let her get caught if she wants to. She obviously doesn't seem to have much experience running away from the cops.

“Trust me, you're the last person I'd want to run away from in the woods,” Shauna seethes, but stomps over to lean against a tree near you.

You start to respond before you hear harsh panting, glancing back over the tree to see Jeff running through the woods right toward the cops. You think about calling out to him, but you think it's funnier to imagine his face when he realizes what he's done. You're not that surprised he's mixed up his directions. You glance over at Shauna's look of disgust as she watches.

“You could go with him instead,” You offer quietly, grinning smugly as she shoots you a look of disdain.

She decides to ignore you for a while, bouncing her leg up and down to work off her nervous energy. You both wince at the sound of every broken twig, almost certain this is going to be the one that gets you caught. You finally glare over at her as the rustling starts to get on your nerves.

“You know, you're pretty bad at this,” You murmur, peering over the tree one last time before settling on the ground with your back against it. You start fumbling through your pockets for your lighter, but quickly realize Nat must've taken it with her.

Bitch.

Now you have to deal with Shauna sober. Soberish, you think, searching through your jacket pockets till you find it. You pop the tab open with a grin that quickly slides into a wince as the taste hits your tongue. You'd been tasked with getting the beer can by Nat, a task which you reluctantly agreed to but now felt oddly thankful for. Her loss was your gain, and besides– it's not like it was your fault the party was busted before you could get her lukewarm can of beer back to her.

You take another sip, almost surprised as it somehow tasted worse than the last one, but Shauna snatches it from your hand and tosses it behind her before you can take another one. You stare at your empty hand in disbelief, hand still clenched around where the stolen can once sat before you slowly look up at her. She's got that famous grin on her face, head tilted in a way that you know means she's about to start shit.

Still, even you're surprised when she throws the now empty can aimlessly behind her and stumbles forward to straddle your legs. Your eyes are wide when you somehow end up with a lap full of Shipman, hands resting instinctively on her thighs as she scoots up to press her hips flush against yours.

“Jesus, Shipman,” You mutter. “Warn a girl.”

“You know, I've heard a few rumors about you,” She murmurs, a hungry glint in her eyes. You resist the urge to tremble under her gaze, feeling oddly like a prey animal as she stares intently down at you. You almost want to get up and run, but you shudder at the thought of dumping her off your lap to do it.

“If you seriously ask me if I've done anal with Kevin we're going to find out which one of us would win in a fight, Shipman. I swear to God.” You say, stealing yourself for a fight as Shauna just smirks down at you with that strange look on her face.

“Heard you had a thing for girls. Heard you were good at it.”

“I don't kiss and tell,” You say firmly, pointedly digging your thumb into her thighs as they start to bracket you tighter. Shauna hisses in pain, hand clutching your shoulder tightly as you only press them in harder. Shauna relaxed her grip with a whimper, a fucking whimper, as she unconsciously pressed herself further into your thumb. She looks at you with an almost unreadable expression as she thinks for a moment, before shifting and tentatively rocking her hips against yours.

“Too bad that senior you hooked up with last year doesn't feel the same way about it,” Shauna snarks, rutting down in earnest as your hands come up to encourage her hips as she rides your thigh.

“What?” You ask distractedly, a breathy sound as you manage to tear your eyes from the way her dress rides up with every roll of her hips.

“Fuck,” She draws out shakily, eyes slipping shut as she rests her head on your shoulder. A pleasured sigh escaped her as she found a good angle, hips stuttering against you until your guiding hands took over for her.

“Had to double back last year for something that Jackie forgot,” A strange hint of venom enters her voice at the name. “And Kelly couldn't stop singing your praises to last year's varsity team. Best fuck she's ever had, did you know that? Of course, she's only ever slept with her loser boyfriend so it probably isn't that much of an achievement.”

Your initial wave of disgust at the admission is overshadowed by a feeling of pride. Best fuck she's ever had? No. You're upset that she's talking about you behind your back. Definitely. Your righteous indignation is quickly tamped down as Shauna whines out her protest as she bites pointedly at your neck.

Right, you think, quickly resuming the endless back-and-forth motions of Shauna's hips as she lets out these perfect little noises into your ear.

“Think it's a little obvious that I have a thing for girls at this point,” You comment wryly, sneaking a peek down the neckline of her dress as she shudders against you.

“Oh, fuck. Right there. Right there,” She pleads, the wet glide of her against your thigh rubbing just right.

“Yeah? Does that feel good, Shipman?” You tease, pulling her down harder against you. She opens her eyes just to glare at you, the heat in her stare almost enough to make you back down as she seems almost resentful of the pleasure you're giving her.

She scoffs. “Even Randy could…” She trails off into a loud moan, muttering a few quiet curses under her breath before continuing, “...stay still while I get myself off.”

“Is that right?”

“Sure is.”

“Maybe you should go find him, then,” You say, slowly drawing your hands away from her hips.

“Don't be an asshole,” Shauna snaps, clawing at your back in warning. “Make me come or I’ll–”

“What? You’ll do what?” You pause for a moment, giving her a chance to respond.

“Maybe you should shut up and take it before I decide to walk off, yeah? Maybe you can be just a little nicer for once so you won’t have to walk back to your car still dripping in your panties.” Her jaw is clenched tightly, an absolute look of murder in her eyes but she doesn’t offer up another threat.

“Can you do that for me?” You taunt, pressing on the sore spot as soon as you realize its existence. Shauna huffs angrily, her nails digging into your shoulders hard enough to draw blood. Strangely the anger seems to make it better for her, her thrusts slowly speeding up the longer you continue to irritate her until she's riding your thigh with a vengeance.

She whispers breathy threats of violence into your ear in between ragged moans, but it's hard to take her at face value as she rubs herself all over the rough denim of your jeans. You wince at the thought of the stain she's going to leave, quickly pushing it out of your mind as Shauna bites at your shoulder through your shirt to muffle her moan as she comes. Even as muffled as it is she’s so loud that you can still clearly hear her as she continues to grind weakly against you as she rides out her orgasm.

“Did you just...” You ask in astonishment.

“No,” Shauna lies, voice just a little too high pitched and embarrassed for it to be the truth. She seems to gather as much from the shit-eating grin on your face, slapping weakly at your shoulder with a hint of playfulness you've never seen directed at anyone but Jackie before. She glares at you again a moment later, as if she was trying to take it back. Leave it to Shauna Shipman to regret smiling.

“Shut up,” She groans, face flushing with embarrassment. “Whatever. Just make me come again. You can do that, can't you?”

With a roll of your eyes, you grab for her discarded flannel and roll it up to lay under her head as you sit up and lay her back on the forest floor. Shauna's smile is almost shy as you look down at her from your position between her spread legs. You trail your hand up her thigh for a moment before thinking better of it.

“Up,” You direct, tapping at her leg as you shrug your jacket off. She complies with a curious look on her face, a soft smile taking its place as you slip your jacket under her hips on the ground. You take the opportunity that's presented to you and hook your fingers in the waistband of her underwear as you pull it down your legs.

You hold up your surprising find on one finger, her lacy black panties almost blowing in the gentle breeze. She squeaks in embarrassment, her reflexes fast as she tries to grab for them but not quite as fast as yours as you jerk them away to shove in your pocket. “Didn't strike me as quite your style, Shipman,” You murmur, “Thought you'd be more of a boxers type.”

“Yeah?” Shauna asks. “You spend a lot of time thinking about what's beneath my clothes?”

You flush in embarrassment as you try to sputter out a response, before finally settling on a simple “Fuck you.”

“Gonna have to wear something under my uniform from now on. Had no idea someone was trying to look up my shorts,” Shauna says with feigned disgust, shaking her head as if she truly couldn't believe it.

“Eat a dick,” You mutter, rocking back on your knees as you move to stand up.

“Don't be such a baby,” Shauna chides, hooking her leg around your knee to keep you down. She grabs at the collar of your shirt as she drags you into a messy kiss that serves only to emphasize her lack of experience in the area. Still, no one will say that Shauna Shipman isn't a quick study as she thoroughly distracts you from her teasing.

“Jackie picked them out,” She murmurs lowly as you separate for air.

“What?” You ask.

“My... My panties,” Shauna admits with a quiet voice.

You grin and she rolls her eyes. “Don't say anything,” She warns.

“No, hey. I'm sure everyone lets their best friend pick out their panties. Nothing weird there,” You choke the laughter down to give her the most understanding look you can muster on a moment's notice. Shauna glares and you hold your hands up innocently. “Nat picked mine out too.”

“... Really?” She asks, eyes slowly tracing down to stare at your jeans.

“Fuck no,” You laugh out, burying your face into her neck as you shake with the force of it. She sighs irritatedly, pinching at your sides until you finally stop.

“Eat me out before I find someone else to do it,” She threatens, but you can still find the traces of levity on her face she hasn't managed to erase.

“Yes, Ma'am,” You say sarcastically, shifting to lean on your elbows as you spread her thighs around your shoulders.

#yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #shauna shipman x reader #minors dni

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moonpetrichors-blog · 1 year

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Hey! Can you write a long one shot where Lo'ak/Neteyam is in a serious relationship with a human girl ( they are around 20 years old), and she hears Neytiri talking to Jake , saying that your relationship is impossible, bc you can't procreate. Then the reader sits alone crying bc she really wanted that to happen. Lo'ak/Neteyam finds her and comforts her. Then eywa sees how much they love each other and blesses their union with a pregnancy where the reader survives it? It would be more like a spiritual conception, it doesn't need to be anything sexual if you don't feel comfortable writing it. Mo'at or Ronal would be the ones to tell the news, since they are tsahik. Idk, I just wondered how this pregnancy/baby would be like. I even pictured Lo'ak/Neteyam laying their heads on the reader's stomach caressing and kissing it, calling the baby 'our little miracle'

Spiritualis Conceptio

Tags: AgedUp!Neteyam x Human!Reader, Oneshot, Avatar 2, Fem!Reader, Pregnancy, Like Spiritual??, Also Bonus Uncle Lo’ak

Warnings: Major Avatar 2 Spoiler

Years pass, and you and Neteyam have been living together peacefully with the Metkayina clan. It has always been a dream of yours to have a family, but as a human on Pandora, you know that's not physically possible when your lover is from another species.

I'm gonna be real with you, I had zero clue how to write this. I seriously needed a couple days to mull over how this would work. Would reader pull a Bella Swan? Who knows! This is lowkey a load of bullshit! Also please keep in mind that although I'm writing this, I am a minor and chose to write this non-sexually and went with the spiritual route. I think this falls under more cute domestic scenarios overall anyway so, WHO DOESN’T WANNA SEE DAD NETEYAM???

* ˚ ✦ 1767 Words • Read below the cut

╭┈─────── ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-╰┈➤ ❝ [02/01/23] ❞

You wrung your fingers together as you meandered along the beaches of the Awa'atlu village, contemplating mundane matters. One in particular that piqued your interest was something you had been thinking about for a considerable amount of time; a family.

You and Neteyam had been together for several years; you were both adults who had been dwelling with the Metkayina clan for the last decade or so. You'd left the Omaticaya clan with him, hoping to remain near to him wherever he traveled. You believed it was remarkable that he survived after being shot all those years ago, and since then, Neteyam has promised never to leave you.

And since then, you’ve felt like you wanted to further your relationship with him. To have a family with him. It warmed your heart to think of the way he would be with his children. Would he be like his own father, protective and caring? Strict yet present? Or would he let loose, and be carefree with them? These were the questions you ached to know the answers to.

It's not as though Neteyam was oblivious to your desires. In all honesty, he was thrilled that you wanted a family, but you two had never seriously discussed the crux of it beyond the concept itself. Perhaps it was wishful thinking on your behalf, but you sincerely hoped it would be achievable someday.

After a short while, you became bored and weary from strolling over the sand for so long. You decided to return to your humble home, which, despite its small size, contained many fond memories for you. Your ears perked up at the sound of a woman's voice before you could whisk the portiere aside.

Neytiri.

Neteyam had been waiting for you to return from your beach promenade, but when the curtain to your front door was swept away, he was greeted by the sight of Neytiri and his father instead, who had arrived moments before you. He welcomed them, intrigued as to why they were searching for him and bearing poignant expressions.

You hid beside the doorway and eavesdropped. You knew you shouldn't listen in on other people's conversations, but when your partner's mother was arguing with him inside your home, whom can criticize you for wishing to hear?

You subsequently regretted that decision because you wished you hadn't. Neytiri didn't take her time stating what she intended to say; she spoke it bluntly and firmly, as one would expect from someone of her character. She was always this way.

“Your relationship with the human girl is impossible.”

You felt your heartbeat quicken. What?

It seemed as though Neteyam had the same reaction as you (albeit unaware of your presence), as he immediately shot up from his seat.

“Now is when you choose to tell me that? You had years to disapprove of Y/N! What changed?” he was not happy.

Jake sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “We overheard you both, talking about wanting a family.”

Neytiri interjected. “It will not happen. It cannot, you are not even of the same species! She belongs with her own people!”

Why were they so adamant about this?

“She is a human girl! You cannot procreate, yet you talk of wanting a family?”

“And? Look at Kiri! She had a human mother!”

Jake placed a rough hand on his son’s shoulder. “Kiri was conceived from Grace’s avatar, Neteyam. No one has ever seen or heard of a human being giving birth to a Na’vi child, let alone be pregnant with one.”

He brushed his father’s hand off of him. “It doesn’t matter.”

You were devastated. You were aware that Neteyam's family had reservations about you, but were they always this antagonistic to your relationship? You opted not to enter your home, tears welling up in your eyes. You dashed away, but before you could truly escape, Neteyam pulled the curtain aside to leave. He spotted your sprinting figure as he grumbled over the discussion he had just seconds before.

He groaned as he raised his palm to his forehead. “Shit.”

Neteyam broke into a run to chase after you.

...

You hid behind some rocks, huddling into your body so that you could cry without anybody finding you. Well, almost. Neteyam emerged from behind one of the boulders you were situated in front of, and sat down carefully so as not to scare you off.

His eyebrows were knitted together in concern. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You wiped your puffy eyes and sniffled. “I heard Neytiri telling you we can’t be together.”

Neteyam embraced you and stroked your hair.

You began to weep again as you sank into his touch. “I really wanted to have a family with you, but I don’t think that’s possible...”

Neteyam felt a wave of guilt surge through him. Perhaps you wouldn't have been crying if you'd fell in love with a human male instead. Nonetheless, he delicately nuzzled you, trying to soothe your pains.

“It’s okay. I don’t care what my mother says.”

When you glanced up at him, he planted a tender kiss against your lips to quell your sobs. You lamented the absence of them when Neteyam stood up and extended his hand for you to take.

You accepted it tentatively, finally putting an end to your sobs. “Where are we going?”

He gave you a soft smile. “You’ll see.”

...

Thank goodness Tsireya also taught you breathing exercises.

When Neteyam said he’d take you somewhere, you didn’t expect it to be the goddamn spirit tree.

You were underwater, squeezing Neteyam's hand as he approached the foliage. He had informed you beforehand that Eywa might hear his prayers, which is why you were here.

You maintained your grip on his hand in trepidation. Neteyam drew his braid over his shoulder, and nodded once more before attaching his queue to the tree.

You could tell he was begging Eywa to bless you both with a child. You sensed tingles across your skin as you felt the energy of the tree move through your lover, wondering whether your family's future was not completely lost after all.

Once Neteyam finished his prayer, he disconnected his queue and helped you swim back up to the surface.

...

You felt ill.

Seriously, terribly ill. You assumed you ate something unpleasant because you became queasy out of nowhere; what was wrong with you?

Neteyam voiced his concerns about the state of your health, and said that he would leave for a moment and bring back the village Tsahìk.

Ronal stepped inside your marui, and raised an eyebrow at your figure. Why did Jake Sully’s son bring her to you? “She is a human, what could I possibly do to aid her?”

Neteyam grumbled, then admitted to what he had done the few days prior. “We visited the spirit tree, and I prayed to Eywa for a baby. Now Y/N is suddenly sick, and I don’t know why!”

Ronal was taken aback for a time. She gazed at Neteyam, puzzled, then swiftly kneeled by your side. She placed her tools near your head, and you began to groan in agony, sweating from the aching in your body.

Ronal shot a glare towards Neteyam. “You, make sure nobody steps foot into this marui!”

Neteyam was a little slow in processing Ronal's order, but he promptly walked towards the entrance to maintain a watchful eye as she toiled. She spoke in Na'vi, and pressed her palm against your abdomen to interpret Eywa's will.

...

“This human girl, she is pregnant.”

You propped yourself up on your elbows, utterly astonished. Ronal had helped to relieve the cramps in your body, but that was overshadowed by the shock you and Neteyam were experiencing at the revelation of your pregnancy.

“I don’t know how this child came to be, but it is clear Eywa’s will has been told.”

You couldn’t help but intercede. “But, Jake said no human has ever been pregnant with a Na’vi child! How is this possible?”

Ronal sighed. “We do not know if this is a Na’vi child yet, but this is clearly some form of spiritual conception. We will simply have to wait and see how the pregnancy goes.”

...

This was not a normal human baby.

The more time passed, the more visible your bump became. Ronal had only alerted Neteyam's family about the pregnancy in case something went wrong with the baby. However, it was becoming increasingly impossible to conceal your body's visible baby bump. Neytiri was surprised at first because she couldn't believe you two had truly conceived a child.

The baby was developing well. To be honest, it was a little too fast for your liking, but it was fine. Aside from the occasional cramps and nausea, your health was excellent, and you were coping well with the pregnancy.

Neteyam was over the moon about your pregnancy. There were numerous occasions when he would lie with you, singing songs to your baby and wondered if they could hear him.

You hoped it couldn’t, because no offense, but his voice was awful. Neytiri’s singing genes did not pass down to Neteyam.

Your favorite moment of those instances though, aside from your lover's atrocious vocals, is when he would kiss and caress your belly while referring to your child as “our little miracle.”

On occasion, you two would dispute over the baby's gender or how much more Na'vi or human it would appear to be. You were certain that your daughter would seem more human, but Neteyam insisted that your son would undoubtedly look like a Na'vi. Furthermore, it was him who prayed for this! He essentially did all of the work!

You would argue that he’s not the pregnant one, and that you’re definitely having a daughter. No questions asked.

Bonus!

You had a son.

Everyone in the tribe was shocked when Ronal announced the pregnancy to them. A child who is both human and Na'vi? It was incomprehensible!

You were absolutely livid as you stood there, Neteyam snickering in the background. Eywa was truly a mischievous deity who relished in playing games.

Neteyam nudged your shoulder in silent laughter. “I told you we’d have a boy!”

You smacked his arm. “Oh, shut up! You weren’t even right about him looking more Na’vi!”

You two quietly bickered as Lo’ak held the infant. “Haha, I’m your uncle now! Look at us, we both have demon blood!”

He began to speak in a singsong voice, “demon baabbyy!”

The baby started wailing.

Someone seriously needed to take that child away from Lo’ak before he dropped it in the sand.

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kasugayamaisforlovers · 20 days

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Experimental thought for my MotA gurlies: So I'm rewatching MotA to get a better handle on Gale and what's hitting me on the second time around is how human John feels versus how mythologized and illusive Gale feels?

Exhibit A: You're Bucky and he's Buck?

We as an audience are introduced to Gale in episode 1 via the recitation of the Buck(ies) lore by Marge. And yeah, sure, John and Gale jump in to add color around the edges but tonally it’s a far cry from how anyone else in the show is introduced and, while John is intro’d the same lore, we come to know John with an intimacy that unravels any notions of manicured or whitewashed anything. We never really get this for Gale.

Exhibit B: No Engine Cleven.

So before the fight between Curt and the RAF guy in episode 2 Curt’s regaling (pun intended) the homies with the story of Walla Walla wherein Gale buzzes the control tower with 3 of his 4 engines feathered. Now it's pretty clear from the dialogue that Gale's still got a functional engine, but Curt's telling the story and he insists on changing the details so that Gale's got no engines.

The boys drink to ‘No Engine Cleven’--the myth.

Flashcut to the end of episode 3 and Gale's fort has taken a gnarly beating. By the time he gets in view of the runway in Algeria he has to feather all 4 engines. And he fucking does it: he manages to land sans engine power! He glides the crew to a safe landing, as if foretold. The No Engine Cleven prophesy made real.

So much of Gale feels like mythology, it's all stories and tidbits other characters seem to know on faith: Gale’s not a sports guy, Gale's an excellent pilot, Gale is Buck. And to be fair on each of these points we do get a little bit of bonus content. (Gale tells John about his dad which we come to understand is the crux of his sports dislike. We see Gale fly and know from his continued survival and other characters' reactions that he's good. See exhibit 1 visa vis ‘Buck’.)

Exhibit C: the deference.

Ok so bonk me with the rubber mallet if this is a reach but like the deference that characters (other than John) show Gale also makes it feel like Gale's something special/held apart. Like yes, I do get he's both hierarchically above a lot of the other characters and simultaneously one of the more central characters. We don't see a whole lot of interactions between characters and like Jack Kidd or Chick Harding to really compare how folks are acting towards Gale vs someone else higher up the ladder. But listen

Let’s take Croz as our test example as Croz interacts with Jack and Gale. When Croz interacts with Jack he's definitely in a subordinate role. There's a scene wherein he recommends Bubbles for desk work and a later scene wherein Croz has inherited said desk work and is nervous about whether he's a good fit. Both times he approaches Jack with respect and the deference of a subordinate but there's nothing more to it. Jack’s a guy and Croz is a guy and so Croz feels like he can talk to Jack.

Take that in comparison to the first time Croz and Bubbles meet John and Gale. Croz and Bubbles want to pin a US map with the locations of the various crew members’ hometowns. There's a shyness in Croz’s behavior here that I think goes beyond ‘you guys are Majors’ and more toward ‘omg the popular kids. The dudes that set the tone for everyone else' there's a sort of starstruckedness to the interaction. (Help I can't think of another time he talks to Gale.)

My point is, the other boys talk to Gale and John like they're the big dogs. The Buckies occupy a space that’s nearer the men than command (Jack, Chick, etc) but higher than say a different crew member, or even other pilots (say Brady or Dye). But whereas we get some real interiority on John we never get to really dig in on Gale and it leaves Gale feeling like a marble statue. (Dare I say like a John Waynian archetype of masculine stoicism and competency and controlled violence? Is that too far?) Like a mythical hero at least.

#mota meta #Master of the air #mota #I have Gale brain worms so bad #someone please come get me #gale cleven #buck cleven #gale cleven meta

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ultfreakme · 5 months

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Actually you know what, thinking on it, Sokka's sexism in the original was really weird and when writing fic, I had a hard time understanding where that even came from. We've been told Gran-gran left NWT because of the sexism and stayed at SWT, Hama was a fighter, Hakoda didn't condemn Katara for fighting or learning bending, there's a trivia thing where we learn Hakoda actually wanted to find a waterbending teacher for Katara. Now sure you can say fighting doesn't mean sexism wasn't present, but Sokka's conveyance of that sexism didn't work if that's the case.

Sokka specifically underestimates girls in fighting. That's how his sexism is largely expressed. Kanna wouldn't have raised Hakoda that way and in turn Hakoda wouldn't have raised Sokka like that.

He would be overprotective of Katara and stifle her as a bender, but not because he's sexist, but because Hakoda said "Hey you're our last warrior"- and this is actually the crux of his character.

One big argument people make is that Sokka's character arc with Suki apparently won't happen. But interviews state that the new focus on Sokka-Suki would be about them finding strength and solidarity as non-benders. In the original we do see Sokka trying to figure out his place and part in the war and among Gaang, he does feel insecure about his strength and ability to protect people. I think taking the new direction would connect well with the Serpent's Pass reunion.

I understand why people are hesitant but I just saw posts saying Sokka's sexism is inherent to his character as Toph's blindness is!?!?!? WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU????? There's so much to unpack there I don't even know where to begin. Like this is getting ridiculous and in trying to say Sokka's sexism is good actually, you guys forget that the original was kinda fumbling its way through Sokka's sexism arc. It's not that fast or easy to make someone dismantle sexism, and the Kyoshi Warriors + Suki are playing into the idea that a woman is only equal to a man when she has combat prowess (I still kinda cringe at Suki saying "I'm a warrior....but I'm also a girl" she says that about her romantic interest in Sokka and kissing him, like why is being a girl or romantic interest associated with 'girl'?). They could've stretched out the arc and included Yue in helping Sokka learn that women aren't inferior but all talks of women's equality was restricted to combat.

I ADORE the Katara v Pakku fight and I think that was a far better discussion and showcase of misogyny and commentary on inequality. Because yes it was a fight, but it was, underneath all that, about Kanna and Yue.

It is the first time we see that actually, Kanna and Yue should get to choose because that is a fundamental right they should have. Healing was allocated entirely to women, but Katara learned it and it was never seen as an inferior form of bending. Everyone should get to pick if they wanna fight or they wanna heal or both. Katara'a fighter, a healer.

So I just wanna ask; Do you want Sokka's sexism to be there to comment on the unfairness of gender inequality? Do you want it there to give this one male character a character arc (because Sokka never talks to Katara- the one whom he hurt most with that attitude- or acknowledges his contribution in suppressing her advances in bending after this little lesson he learned from Suki)? Or do you want it there because the og did it so it has to be there? Because if it's the first, KATARA's arc does it a million times better and that's still in the show.

#atla la #natla #atla netflix #avatar the last airbender #atla live action #sokka #atla

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whispereons · 11 months

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Oracle!Reader Part 8

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 7, Part 9

Gonna be honest, Y/N is not nice in this chapter. Not like abusive but just wanted to warn ya'll. My au is supposed to be dark and cruel in a way. This is yandere imposter sagau after all.

A storm brewed above the ship as the two hydra heads roared toward the sky. Shielding your face with your arms you tried to gaze up at the towering dark blue bodies. The teal markings on its armor-like heads let you know who exactly was attacking you.

Beisht, Avenger of the Vortex. AKA Osial's wife who not only has a grudge against Liyue but Beidou specifically due to her warning Ningguang about Beisht's attack.

The Crux has probably gone hundreds of times to Inazuma peacefully but the one time you go is when they get attacked by a sea monster.

Just

Your

Fucking

Luck

Beidou's laugh rings out as the ship sways from the currents and the crewmembers start running to their weapons and positions. Not missing a beat Xinyan ends her song as she uses her vision to blast fire at Beisht.

Holy fuck, this wasn't an accident. This was planned. Beidou planned this shit and went through with it even though you, a guest, are on this crazy ship.

Anger swells up in you like a tornado and you ignore the blasts of water that try to hit the jumping form of Beidou. You look around in blind anger for one of the ballistae on the ship.

The thought of shooting either Beidou or Beisht with it was making your blood pump faster. And even if you did hit Beidou, you could always lie that you were aiming at Beisht.

You spot the closest one and start running towards it. Firm hands wrap around your waist and lift you off the ground.

"I apologize for the urgency, but this isn't a safe spot for you."

Kazuha's calm voice in your ear has a soothing effect on your temperament. Forcibly relaxing your body, you let Kazuha carry you down the stairs and he sets you down quickly in a room.

"Stay here while we take care of the sea monster. I don't want you getting hurt, it will not have mercy on you."

You clench your hands as your body trembles in anger. It's Kazuha's worried and sad eyes that make you unclench your fists.

"I know it's scary so please heed my words."

Burying your head into your knees a muffled sound of confirmation slips out. If he wants to think you're scared, let him. Some time alone might even be good for you.

Kazuha leaves and it's then that you can hear the sound of the fighting as the boat rocks. Xiangling and Xinyan's pyro make the air sticky as Kazuha swirling the water makes it humid too.

The crackling of thunder no doubt from Beidou makes you grind your teeth. You were right to be afraid of going with the Crux, she may be popular but she's far too dangerous.

That was definitely Beisht, you think back to her boss fight and remember her attacks. Shooting water, slamming her head and neck, water missiles, and wait wasn't there a third head?-

A loud bang echoes as the ship starts tilting dangerously. Yelping you shield your head from the items that start falling onto you. Another deafening thud and you're being thrown onto the opposite wall.

As more heavier items crash onto you, the wall makes a cracking sound. You couldn't be sure that it was the boat breaking but you couldn't risk it.

If you stayed here, you'll either be crushed to death or drown if that wall breaks. The Alcor keeps rocking left to right as you struggle to stand and leave the room. Closing the door shut, you know you have a few more bruises than you came in with.

The hallway is even worse than the room. Harpoons and other weapons are dangerously close to falling and you rush up the stairs to avoid that disaster.

The main deck is a chaotic mess of crewmembers running back and forth. Xiangling is continually setting wooden spears and stakes aflame before different crewmembers shoot it.

Xinyan, Kazuha, and Beidou all work together to attack Beisht's heads whenever she gets close to attack. Keeping a death grip on the railing you watch the incredible yet infuriating display of power.

Finally remembering that you'll need to defend yourself too, you go back down the stairs. Swiftly you dodge the dropping objects and get to your room. Shoving your hand into your bag and selecting the sickle, you pull it out.

The fear of dying is remedied by the weight of the weapon. Sprinting with more confidence you get back to the main deck. Both sides of the deck have one of her heads low and close ready to shoot the powerful jet of water.

Something about the way she looks is... off. Your mind wanders back to the game cutscenes and automatically compares it to what you see now.

What were once toothless jaws were now filled with layers of sharp teeth. The underbelly of her bodies looked less watery and sleeker. The fins on her back looked firmer and seemed to be in a more organized row.

Beisht shoots the water from her mouths, and you can feel how hot the water is. Xinyan is quick to dodge by climbing the stairs while Kazuha leaps using the wind. Beidou uses her skill to defend herself and rack up energy.

As the scalding water gets closer you hold the sickle to your chest and try to back away. You may be crazy but not stupid enough to try what Beidou is doing.

Surprisingly she stops only inches away from you, lifting her heads she shoots the brunt of the attack toward the sky. Hot droplets rain down on the ship as the attack dies down.

Her heads regroup and her third one appears behind the first two. All her heads roar and they slam onto the deck. Instead of slamming onto you as you expected, she boxes you in the middle of the deck instead.

As two heads serve as the walls, her third head opens its mouth. The sight of the teal muscles with holes in them makes you shudder. Would dying to a sea monster be better or worse than dying accused as an imposter?

Probably better, at least this way you would be remembered fondly and missed. Even if it's only for a short while.

"Glorious creator, it is my greatest honor to have lived long enough to meet you."

What the fuck.

The sounds of everyone else attacking Beisht's other heads are drowned out as you look up at her in shock.

"Although my husband could not meet you, he was a devoted believer. These puny mortals are having you travel in such conditions with such little glory. Do these pirates not know your greatness?!"

Her tone gets louder as she speaks about the Crux. How could she recognize you as the creator? Were you right in guessing that the creatures of Teyvat could recognize you? But she's more on the god side so how could she realize but not Ei?

"Beisht, how have you heard of me?" If sea monsters gods could smile then that's exactly what Beisht was doing.

"Your blood, your grace. They bleached your gold blood. They hurt you with violent intentions. Just as the scriptures said, the offenders will pay for hurting you. Teyvat is calling upon your true worshippers to deliver justice."

This doesn't make complete sense. Beishts own arrogance and hatred for Liyue is having an impact on her words. What does seem to be true is that Teyvat was alerted when you got hurt and is drawing strong creatures that it can connect with to you.

"Then this is something we should be talking with less distractions." Choosing your words carefully, you note how everyone has been listening to your conversation with Beisht.

It's a good thing they can't understand her. Whether she's intentionally not letting them understand her or not isn't important.

You motion Beisht to back away with a flick of your wrist. Beisht is expecting you to act like the creator, you need to play your part. This whole situation is a golden opportunity.

Beisht obeys your silent command and moves her heads off the boat. Beidou is the first to run up to you with how close she is. The battle comes to a silent pause as everyone watches your seemingly unharmed form with relief.

"Are you okay?!" The urge to scoff and give a snarky response is strong but you push it down. With a solemn expression, you speak clearly.

"I've been granted a rare opportunity to talk with Beisht according to the creator's will. I have messages to relay to her but I cannot do so with everyone here."

A rare confused expression crosses Beidou's face at your words as you step away from her and move closer to Beisht. With a tight grip on your sickle, you speak calmly to Beisht.

"Come closer so we can speak somewhere with more privacy. The matter of the divine isn't one to always be so open about."

Beisht seems to pick up on the identity you have in the eyes of the Crux and lowers her main head onto the boat. With confident strides, you walk to her head and climb on.

Fear and worry rise within you as you grip the middle feeler on her head and look at the Crux with a smile.

"I'll be back soon, so don't stop sailing. I'll catch up before you know it."

Your grip on the feeler becomes tight as Beisht's head suddenly drops into the water. A scream instinctively leaves your throat from the sudden gesture.

The last thing you saw before the ocean engulfed you was the various expressions of horror and fear on everyones faces. A small part of you smirks at the guilt that paints Beidou's face.

You shut your mouth and eyes expecting the salty water to drown you. Yet not even a drop of water touches you and the sight of the vast ocean surrounds you.

In awe you watch the air bubble around you supplying you with oxygen and shielding you from the water. Fish swim past as Beisht continues to descend into the depths.

Soon enough the only light around is the teal markings on her body. It reminds you of just how frightening the ocean can be. That at any moment Beisht could think that you're an imposter too and let you drown here...

Tightening your grip on her, you push those thoughts away. They will only hinder you, being nervous will make everything worse. You've made it this far, haven't you?

As a distraction, you think about how exactly this air bubble is being made. Was it Beisht, Teyvat, or did you unconsciously do it? Considering that you can only control elements that you accessed from the Statue of the Sevens then it can't be you.

Beisht was connected to the vortex and water. This air bubble wasn't just reusing your oxygen, it was supplying fresh oxygen. She can't control oxygen so that only leaves Teyvat. Then how could Teyvat protect you from drowning but let the electro from Ei hurt you?

Beisht finally stops and you can vaguely see the outline of her main body due to the glowing teal marks. It keeps reminding you of a certain god masquerading as a bard.

"Your grace, I see the false identity you hold in front of them. Yet I do not hold the same wisdom you hold, please enlighten me on why you hide yourself."

Her vocabulary is naturally arrogant but the tone she says it all in, sounds like she's imploring. It's good, you can utilize this and her natural dislike for humans.

"Coming back from that other world has left me very weak. I have little memories of when I was the creator and this body is weak. They see my unmasked face and assume I'm an imposter. Ei was the main culprit. Just a mask would solve that but my mere presence shows my divinity. Quite a few of my acolytes barely believe my words as an oracle, I would be a fool to publically reveal myself as the creator."

Your words are spoken with a sense of coldness as if you're completely detached from the situation. The water around you seems to raise a few degrees. Taking a risk you speak lowly with a mix of sadness and condescension.

"Humans and Archons are not that different. They cannot accept the truth if it's different than what they expect or desire. Greed and pride have always been the downfall of humans."

"Your grace, they do not deserve your attention or words. The Electro Archon will pay for harming you. They will all pay for hurting you. Thank you for teaching me, I will do your bidding. I will make sure that you'll never need to worry about me acting as foolish as those Archons."

Perfect, it's exactly what you wanted.

"We will take over and subdue Teyvat for harming you. We'll lay the Archons, humans, and anything else that dares defy you at your feet. We will make them atone for their sins. That pirate crew will be the first to pay! Not only have I lost my husband and child to them, they even harmed you!"

What child? They had a kid??? Wait that can come later, Beisht going out of control would harm the reputation you've built up, this has to stop!

"Silence." Your command is swift and your gaze is cold as you stare down Beisht. The quiet that comes makes you smile inwardly. Playing hot and cold towards someone who idolizes you tends to make them more attached. More desperate to keep your wavering love and affection.

"Now, now don't get too worked up. Going off and doing whatever you wish in my name is contradictory to what you said earlier."

"I beg for your forgiveness, your grace." Beisht lowers her heads in shame. A kind smile crosses your face and you reach through the bubble to pet her heads.

"I forgive you Beisht, mistakes are part of the learning process. You've already done so well in recognizing me. Why don't you start by answering my questions first? What happened to your child?"

Beisht closes her eyes and bubbles float up as her heads sigh in content over your touch.

"My child, born from Osial and I, fought for days against that pirate ship. In the end, they killed my child and his murderer gained a vision from it. Celestia truly mocks the defeated from the Archon War."

Sea monster, 'that' pirate ship, and a vision from his death.

Haishan is her child.

No wonder she hates Beidou so much. She basically killed her whole family!

"Haishan has lived in my name and with his death, he returned to me too. I can tell your anger is as great as your sorrow. Take comfort in my words and let your anger fuel your devotion to me."

Loneliness is a manipulator's best friend. Beisht is terribly lonely and will cling to you and your words as her only lifeline. And in your situation, a dog like this will be needed.

"I will your grace, someday I too will return to your loving embrace through death."

Gently she nuzzles your hands with her heads. Tracing the glowing marks that adorn her head you ask in a soothing voice.

"Tell me how you came to find me."

"After the battle with Liyue and the human-adepti I retreated to the depths of the ocean to heal myself. I was dormant when Teyvat called us. It spoke about harm coming to you, at how your gold blood had been bleached."

"Who is 'us'? You also referred to yourself as 'we' earlier too."

"I was not the only one stirred by Teyvat. The water has become more lively with strong elemental currents. I do not doubt that there are even more beings awakening on land. We are all being called to defend you and pay back your liquid gold blood. After so long without you, we are regaining our reason for living."

So if many other elemental monsters are being 'stirred' then that means you could get more allies. Guoba didn't even know he used to be a god until he was told so was it in character or not that he knew you were the creator? You'll need to find more evidence on land but this was leading to a favorable situation.

But Beisht's fixation on your blood being gold was not good. You'll have to address that now. If you wait too long and it reveals outside of your control she'll believe that you were lying to her. God knows what she would do to you then.

"On the topic of my blood, there is something I must clear up. My blood is not gold, it is red."

An eery stillness takes over the atmosphere and you seemingly look down at the 3-headed hydra. The feeling of her scales seems to heat up a little, gritting your teeth you continue.

"I sincerely hope that you are not doubting me. The scriptures never said that my blood itself was gold. The true meaning of that text is that my blood is as precious as gold."

Your blank expression and sharp eyes don't leave her. In one hand you hold your sickle above and electro-coats it with a dangerous crackle.

The looming threat of death washes over you as the sickle crackles with more ferocity. Teyvat heeds your silent wishes and hydro starts rapidly spinning around you. Swiftly you thrust it into the water and it hits Beisht as she thrashes from the pain.

"Forgive me! Forgive me! Forgive this arrogant and foolish follower!"

She roars and begs, your heart is as tight as your grip on her but the sickle still crackles in the water. She's a sea monster and that's the only reason she hasn't died yet.

It's only the sight of toasted pieces of sleek flesh on her that you pull the sickle out of the water and back into the air bubble. The electro fizzles out and Beisht's sad wails echo around you.

She's whimpering and begging with near-silent pleas for forgiveness. Your hand is gentle and warm on the head that she is carrying you on.

"Hush now Beisht, this punishment was something you brought onto yourself. Never doubt my words, my teaching is law. Do you see how futile suspecting and denying me of my divinity is? Crimson or gold, my blood is not what matters most, it is I that exist above you."

Beisht's body seems to curl around the air bubble you stand in as you continue petting and soothing her. Your pleasant humming is a sharp contrast to your rapid heartbeat.

You were either going to die to Beisht or die to your electro. But this turned out better than you originally thought. Even though it hurt you to cause the one powerful ally you have pain, it was necessary. You can never let her entertain the idea of betraying you.

If you must play the role of oracle in front of the others then you must play the role of creator in front of the rest. Y/N was the oracle, the creator, and most importantly a liar.

"The fact that you could sense my presence on that boat intrigues me. How could you sense me while Ei could not? The same goes for the other Archons, surely they would have felt Teyvat's call too."

"The Archons accepted Celestia's power which drew them away from you. They worship you the mortal or human method more often than the way elemental beings do. Changing their style of worship may have connected them to other mortals better but it also muddled their sense of hearing Teyvat"

Her voice is hoarse and low, humbled after her punishment. Your smile was kind and your touch tender, but the sly part of your heart reveled in it.

"Tell me the difference between the two."

"Elemental beings worship by sacrificing parts of themselves to you. Some offer up energy, blood, lifeforce, and others give limbs. Only their own, offering up anyone else's would be sacrilegious. As elemental beings, we will always heal and reform. Celestia has possibly blinded them to the consequences of forsaking our worship to keep them away from you."

Now that was one of the most useful pieces of information you've gained thus far. What would happen if you convinced one of the Archons, not counting Ei, to try this style of worship? Would it enhance your position as the oracle, make you more suspicious, or give them the idea that you might be the creator?

Your thoughtfulness seems to make Beisht anxious, that's understandable seeing as you've proven to be volatile in her eyes. With a nearly patronizing pat on her head, you speak with a happy tone.

"As the creator, I require both elemental and human worship. I have many plans and it includes you Beisht. With each nation I visit and interactions with the Statues of the Seven, I gain more power. I will need you to spread the truth of my arrival to those who Teyvat awoke. Can I trust you with that?"

"It is a privilege to serve you, beloved creator. I will travel through the ocean and fulfill your command." She's clearly enthusiastic and grateful. You have her right where you want her.

"Stay quiet and careful, avoid fighting in general. I have much of the world to explore on my own and see to tell who deserves my forgiveness when everything is revealed. No rushing, I have a long life to live. The other elemental creatures will have the information I need too."

"I understand your grace. At this point and time, your main attention is to investigate the mortal's faith. I will stay unnoticed after this point so that I do not hinder your plan."

You had no plan on revealing your status as the creator. These words were only said to keep Beisht calm and peaceful. Beisht has such a terrible reputation as a villain that if she told the truth, it would only make them all think worse of you.

The little pieces of evidence you have acquired, proving your title might be enough if you were in regular Genshin Impact. But in this world with obsession, death, and violence, you could not claim that so easily. Beisht better be prepared to wait a long time, if not your whole life span which might not be long considering your luck.

"Can I really trust your words Beisht? You think lowly of the mortals for harming me but you have hurt me as well. And it's not when you doubted me, I'm talking about how you hurt me physically."

Your words are like a bucket of cold water. The suspicious gaze she receives from you makes her stutter.

"W-What do you mean your grace? The moment I spotted you, I drew away."

'Pathetic' that's what your expression told her. That's exactly what you thought of her. Her lie specifically.

"Never try to lie to me. This is your only warning. When you rose from the water, you spotted me first but you let yourself be distracted by the sight of Beidou. So caught up in the fight, it wasn't until I got banged up by everything that you finally spotted me and remembered your original task."

The words seem to hit the nail on the head as Beisht lowers herself to you. With an ominous air, you swing the sickle back and forth.

"I will not deny my sins. I lied to you and tried to hide it. Whatever punishment you choose is one I will accept wholeheartedly." Her voice wavers and cracks. She's scared and your smile makes her tremble beneath you.

But it seems to wash away as you rest your upper body on her head closest to you. Ignoring the lingering water droplets you pet her softly.

"It's okay Beisht, I know you were emotional after seeing Beidou. The pain and wrath were hard to fight wasn't it?" The forgiving voice you used was almost like a mask as you traced her scales using the sickle at the same time.

Unnerved, confused, grateful, and scared Beisht sounds like she's near tears.

"Thank y-you, your grace. The mercy you have on your creations is not something we deserve yet you give it anyway."

"I've been hurt so many times Beisht. So you'll prove yourself worthy of my trust right?" The sickle gets stuck at the brightest teal scale on her main head's forehead.

"Take this scale off and give it to me. This will be proof of your devotion to me." You whisper the command disguised as a request.

Without hesitation, Beisht's second head comes closer and you move away just in time to see her tug the scale off with her mouth. It's placed at your feet and it glimmers as you pick it up.

"It's beautiful Beisht. I will accept this as proof of your faith in me. It's time for me to be returned to the ship, do not forget what I have told you."

"Yes, your holiness." The attitude she has is much more subdued than the one she held when you first went down with her. You can now safely trust that in a worst-case scenario, you'll go to the ocean and have her bring you somewhere safe.

Fish and other sea creatures swim past you as Beisht brings you back to the boat. It's a lot further than when you left but that's no problem for the leviathan.

The Alcor is above you and Beisht only raises her head that has you on her above water. The air bubble dissolves and the sun shines down on you. The heat of it is welcomed after staying in the freezing deep for so long.

Yet it's the bright flash of electro that you are greeted with as Beidou jumps toward Beisht.

Thoughts bombard your mind on what to do, what to say. Electro, hydro, claymore, Beidou, Beisht, sickle, and defend!

With adrenaline and fear coursing through your veins, you bring your sickle up as a defense. Electro meets electro as the force of the blow keeps you both locked in place.

Planting your feet steady on Beisht's head, you grit your teeth and push harder against Beidou. In mere seconds your electro overpowers hers and Beidou is struck back to the boat with a pained yell.

The crew, Xinyan, and Xiangling rush to where Beidou was thrown. A sense of deja vu fills you as Kazuha jumps to you and quickly carries you away from Beisht.

After smoothly landing and setting you behind him, Kazuha brandishes his sword in Beisht's direction. The multiple cuts and bruises on his body show just how injured he got in the earlier battle.

A small part of you can't help but feel touched by his protection. Even though it's entirely unnecessary. Why didn't he immediately go check on Beidou? They are very close after all...

Letting that thought fade away, you place your hand on Kazuha's shoulder and smile reassuringly at him. Beidou grunts as she's helped out of the mess of broken wood.

A brief sense of vindication enters you at the sight of the multiple wounds on her, mostly likely from the previous battle. Splinters and new scrapes cover her exposed skin and a particularly big one went through her left palm.

The blood mixes with the wood chips as it drips off her palm. She's grabbing her weapon again and tries to head toward Beisht. Quickly you move to stand in front of her.

"It's alright Beidou, Beisht isn't going to attack anymore." Beidou's eyes widen as she takes in the sight of you. Not a single scrap or drop of blood is on you.

Turning back to Beisht, you motion her to leave with a hand gesture. Obediantly Beisht dives back into the water and disappears.

The waves start to calm and the clouds slowly disperse. You think of the electro you used against Beisht and Beidou. The control you have over it has been growing, despite how dangerous it is, you'll need more power.

Eyes widening in surprise you're spun around by Beidou as she checks your body throughly.

"I was so sure you died, I never meant to hit you with my claymore. I'm beyond grateful that the creator protected you." Your earlier spiteful joy at her injuries melts into guilt at the caring way she was handling you.

Smiling sheepishly you pat her uninjured shoulder.

"If the creator wanted me to die by Beisht then I would accept that wholeheartedly. I'm sorry for worrying you and everyone else."

That small petty part of you wanted to bring up how this all could have been avoided by just not provoking Beisht since they didn't know she was looking for you. But maybe you'll do that when everyone isn't injured.

"I'm not sure whether to applaud you or scold you for doing something so reckless but I think that would be counterproductive at this point."

Beidou shakes her head as she speaks before sighing. Turning back to her crew and friends her voice rises above the murmur of everyone else's conversation.

"Listen up everyone! Beisht has fled this area, but we can always be attacked at a later date. Get inside, rest up, and prepare to arrive at Liyue tomorrow morning!"

Multiple "Yes, Captain!" can be heard directly after her words before they scatter to various activities. You still need to talk to Beidou but she beats you to it.

"Y/N, I need to speak to you about the situation with Beisht. I'll get cleaned up in the medical bay and meet you at the head of the ship."

You nod and head to where she was pointing. Kazuha, Xiangling, and Xinyan follow Beidou to the medical bay. Would they be a part of whatever conversation Beidou wants to have with you?

Swinging your legs as you sit on the edge of the boat, the calm waves draw your gaze. What will Beidou tell you? What lies will you spin to protect yourself?

It's the thumps of footsteps behind you that alert you to Beidou's arrival. With a friendly smile directed at her, you suppress the urge to laugh at the feeling of eyes on you.

Xiangling is most likely in the kitchen as Guoba is nowhere to be seen. Kazuha and Xinyan on the other hand may have been instructed to watch or listen while hiding.

You already knew your stunt may have bad consequences if you aren't careful but you didn't think Beidou would make your job so easy. After all, the more people that hear this conversation, the farther your reputation will spread.

"Hope you didn't wait too long Y/N," Beidou speaks amiably as she strolls over to sit next to you. Her mood is hard to read with the way she smiles but you can still guess accurately.

"I'm all good, I would even say that the break was appreciated with how tired I was."

"Then let's not waste any more time. I'm not here to interrogate you as much as I'm here to explain myself. I put the Crux and you into a life-threatening situation and although everyone else knows exactly what can happen, you did not. I'm sorry about that."

Your feet hit the boat at a slow pace as you think about her words. Now that the anger and chaos of that situation has calmed down, you aren't nearly as annoyed. Not up to talking just yet, you simply nod.

Taking it in stride Beidou starts explaining.

"For the past few days, monsters and leylines have been unusual. The leylines are spawning in new areas with stronger enemies than usual. The behavior of the monsters is strange too. They wander around as if looking for something and the boss monsters have become less violent. It's worrying and on our way to Inazuma, I saw the ocean change. That's why I had Xinyan perform to draw attention."

Seems Beisht was right to guess that other monsters were becoming aware. Hilichurls may respawn but you aren't sure if another monster species that canonically don't regenerate will still be alive. You need to speak with the enemies most likely to recognize you.

"Seeing Beisht listen to you was shocking. I mean she has always been hostile towards people. I don't wanna push you to speak but I would like to know what happened."

"When I was forced onto the main deck to avoid being crushed by the boxes I saw a part of the battle. That's when I realized that I could understand Beisht and the creator ordered me to speak with her privately. Who am I to disobey? The conversation was enlightening, to say the least, and what you just told me has confirmed it."

Your dramatic and cryptic words confuse your listeners. Standing up and balancing on the edge of the boat you continue speaking.

"I have been granted a prophecy! Well more like a revelation of the current and future events. The creatures of Teyvat are exhibiting new behaviors due to the creator's will. Of course that doesn't mean we'll stop defeating them, just don't take it as some grand evil rising."

The nearly childlike joy you speak with only confuses Beidou further. She stands up and tries to hold your shoulder but you twirl away from the edge.

"When was the last time we saw sudden differences in behavior?" Your words are spoken with a carefree smile as you continue dancing away.

"That would be when the traveler arrived on Teyvat and leading to the awakening of acolytes of course!"

You playfully tug the white ahoge that sticks out from Kazuha's hiding spot. He doesn't even seem glum at being found so quickly.

"And why did that all start happening?"

The feeling of eyes watching you faded as Beidou moves closer to the spot you stood with spread arms. Xinyan wasn't here but that's fine, the story you've spun will be spread either way.

"Because the creator's return was starting to approach! It may be worrisome because the creatures may harm people more than they did before but that doesn't mean we can't celebrate that the creator is a step closer to coming back."

In reality, you just wanted more allies. Paraphrasing everything to fit the narrative that you desire was easy in this situation. Very few people could tell if you were lying or not after all. In fact, some would even-

"Agreed. At the same time this all has been happening, the wind had gotten stronger. It's crisp and clear, it has become more active in communication too."

Between your celebratory smile and Kazuha's serene expression, Beidou had nothing to refute with. Instead, a wide grin crosses her face and you stumble as she drags you and Kazuha down to the main deck.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Everyone's eyes are drawn to Beidou as she yells. "The creator is a step closer to coming back to Teyvat and we all witnessed it! So let's celebrate like we mean it!"

It's impressive how nearly all of them already grabbed a glass of beer and raised it at her words. Cheers were heard all around as they raised the glasses and drank cheerfully.

Beidou had already released you and Kazuha to grab her drinks. Your eyes linger on the bloodied bandage wrapped around her palm. It was still bleeding heavily.

A familiar tug on your clothes brings your attention down to Guoba.

"Lala? Lalala!"

You don't fight the caramel-colored panda as he drags you toward the kitchen. It also doesn't let you notice how Kazuha was reaching out to you before being dragged into a conversation.

Xiangling runs around the kitchen with a tired but bright smile as you are pulled in.

"Thank you Guoba for bringing Y/N here! You can have this spicy cornbread as a treat."

She's quick to place a plate of food on the table and return to cooking. The sight of Guoba's food reminds you of your last conversation with Xiangling.

Yeah, you aren't forgetting that for a long time.

"Sorry for calling you here after so much went on, I just had another favor to ask you. I was curious if you can bless food the same way the creator can."

Wasn't she the one who fought a leviathan, is still somewhat injured, and went straight to cooking??

"I've never tried to bless food before but I would be happy to try! What food exactly do you want me to bless?"

Blessing food the same way the creator does sounds a lot like how you would feed the characters in the game. The most likely method would be cooking the food yourself and seeing if it had any effects.

The only other way you could think of blessing food would be by putting some part of your body into it. Which would be disgusting and a pain to do so, so hopefully you just need to cook it.

"I want it for Beidou to heal her hand. It's bleeding pretty heavily and she needs it to use her weapon. I was thinking something easy like sticky honey roast."

"Then just leave it to me Xiangling, do you have the recipe?"

"Yep! Right here." She hands you a slightly charred paper before scurrying over to a pot that's almost boiling over. Would you need to cook this manually or just use a pot like in the game?

The recipe consisted of 3 meat, 2 carrots, and 2 sugar. Nothing else was written on it... How were you supposed to cook with only this?!

Sighing you take the ingrains as the young chef runs around the kitchen. With a lingering sense of unease, you drop the ingredients into the pot and light the fire.

You turn around to grab something to stir it and look back to see it cooked.

Standing there stunned, you look at the perfect sticky honey roast sitting innocently in the pot. Deciding to count your blessings, you serve it on a plate and confidently call it blessed food as you hand it to Beidou.

It works surprisingly well, the bandage is unwrapped to see the skin sewn back together and most likely repaired. Beidou whistles as she examines her hand.

"Gotta hand it to you kid, this is pretty impressive. I usually have to wait for the creater to come and heal me up or wait ages for it to get healed properly."

"This was all Xianglings idea, she deserves the praise. I'll be sure to tell her the good news." You leave as Beidou begins drinking faster with her healed hand.

So you basically never need to cook again, what luck! Would giving someone a fried egg, bring someone back to life? Or would it wake someone up from a concussion or coma? That would all depend on whether characters are dead or just passed out when their HP reaches 0.

Walking into the kitchen, Xiangling is busy putting the final touches on the feast she prepared.

"Got good news for you Xiangling. The blessed food worked and Beidou's hand doesn't even have a scar."

"That's great to hear! I was pretty worried she would have permanent damage or something. She always brushes her wounds off if they aren't life-threatening."

Xiangling pouts at the memory of Beidou's recklessness as you take the initiative to help her. The silence is nice but your thoughts keep wandering back to the human remains.

"Hey Xiangling, I've got a question for you but this might be the wrong time to ask." The look she sends you is one full of curiosity.

"What happened to the families of those you killed and made into food? Did they not get a burial, casket, or at least an urn?"

The expression she wears is a mixture of guilt and disgust.

"Blasphemous people like them do not deserve a funeral. They die and everyone will scorn them for betraying the creator. Most families disown that person or act like they were never part of their family."

She stays kneeling by the cart of food and Guoba trods over to her with his usual carefree attitude. She holds him close and speaks sadly.

"They do deserve punishment for what they did but I want to believe the creator would want them to perish with some good blooming from it. At least by cooking them, that person can help another life grow, and my cooking skill improve."

Each time you ask something like this whether it's Inazuma or Liyue, the situations are always so much worse than you thought. To think what you thought Xiangling did from some sick sense of worship, which isn't entirely false, was mostly born from her signature kindness.

Do you condemn her, comfort her, or encourage her?

"We may never know exactly what the creator thinks, all we can do is keep moving forward. For what it's worth, I don't think you're in the wrong. Your intentions are pure and it's not like your actions can make the situation any worse than it already is."

You bend down and place your hands on her shoulders. She looks up at you and smiles happier at your caring expression.

"Enough about that. Let's go bring these dishes out so we and everyone else can enjoy them. We should be celebrating after all!"

The prep she usually has comes back and she's pushing the cart as you follow behind her. Everyone cheers as Xiangling hands out food and people sit down.

Picking a plate of F/F, you sit on a crate next to Xinyan and Kazuha. Beidou seemed to disappear somewhere with Xiangling again.

The taste and texture are like nothing you've tasted before. Whatever she did to make your favorite food taste even better needed to be shared with you.

"Real happy with that dish aren't ya?" Xinyan comments as you basically inhaled everything but the plate.

"If this dish was meant to be savored then she shouldn't have made it taste this good."

Xinyan laughs at your words before continuing to eat the spicy food she has on her plate. By the overload of spices you can smell, it must be one of Xiangling's creations that Xinyan is so happy to try.

"Now that things have calmed down, I wanted to tell you that I loved your music! It was a bit worrisome with all the fire but I understand that you needed it for the battle."

"Aw, that's real nice to hear! Most of my performances tend to burn down the stage but rock 'n' roll is all about that kind of fire."

"Must have taken you a long time to learn how to use your instrument and vision without burning down everything."

Your comment is casual as you start eating one of the desserts Xiangling brought out. Alcohol is starting to be passed around, you aren't sure if you should drink or not.

"I practiced loads with people as the 'audience'. They all died during the test runs but it's fine since they were already known for being sacrilegious. Burning them to death as a sacrifice was the best thing they could hope for."

The dessert gets stuck in your throat at her words. Coughing a little, you keep your head down to avoid showing your face. Kazuha rubs your back trying to help you.

Was it a trend for pyro-vision women to tell you horrible things with complete ease?! First Xiangling with the cannabilism to Xinyan sacrificing people...

"That was legal, right? Do you still sacrifice people like that?" You struggle not to stutter and Kazuha is still watching you with that same worried expression.

"It is legal in Liyue with the right certifications. Not long ago you had that private concert with the burning of a few treasure hoarders if I remember correctly."

Xinyan nods in agreement at Kazuha's words.

Maybe you should stop being surprised and just expect everyone to have committed crimes like this. What's next? Brainwashing?

Kazuha and Xinyan continue to chat about whatever burning they may or may not have participated in as Xiangling comes over with some alcohol.

"Sorry to interrupt but I was wondering if any of you guys wanted some beer, rum, or grog. Grog is the lightest since it's just water and alcohol. I might just drink that since I just became old enough to drink."

"I'll just have a glass of beer, I have another concert tomorrow and the last thing I want is a hangover." Xinyan is quick to take a swing of the beer.

"I'll pass on the alcohol today, I drank enough yesterday." Kazuha glances at you as he speaks with a slightly nervous tone, no doubt remembering his behavior when he first met you.

"Could I have some rum? I wanna celebrate a lot after completing the first major mission from the creator." Discarding your previous thought of avoiding alcohol, you decided to drink to congratulate yourself for surviving this long.

Definitely not because you wanted a distraction from what you just heard from Xinyan. Nor of the idea that Liyue may be even harder to live in due to their dependency on Rex Lapis. That may or may not have also pushed them to be even more fanatic for the 'creator'.

The rum was sweet but it burned as it traveled down your throat. The strong liquor made your head spin for a split second. You're quickly coming to regret it.

"Hey, Kazuha? Can you watch over me as I drink? This rum is stronger than the drinks I'm used to."

You ask Kazuha with a flushed face as you rest on his shoulder. The lights shine down on you as everyone else is up enjoying themselves. As sweet as always, Kazuha smiles down at you and nods.

"I promise to watch over you. No harm will come to you especially as I don't plan on drinking a single drop."

Feeling reassured you thank him and continue drinking. The party is getting louder and messier with each drink given around.

Xinyan is singing and strumming her guitar as a good chunk of the crew sings along with her. Xiangling was passed out on a crate as her tolerance for it was still low. Beidou was the only one you couldn't see from your spot on Kazuha's shoulder.

"You're the work hard, play hard type huh?"

You sway a little as you jump in surprise at the voice so close to your ear. Kazuha peers around you at Beidou who was standing firmly despite the amount of liquor she already drank.

A feeling nags you that Beidou is still as sharp as ever. Someone who drinks as much as she does must have a high tolerance. The smell of alcohol is strong as she speaks.

"You didn't strike me like the type to drink rum, I would have thought you would go for a beer or just a single glass."

You follow her gaze to the multiple glasses next to you. It seems you drank a lot more than you initially planned.

"Don't look so disappointed Y/N! It's normal to want to relax with a good drink after such a long day. This is a celebration too. Let all your worries melt away."

She speaks with a cheer and your hazy mind makes you smile up at her. Your worries, anxiety, and general distrust of everything are the farthest thing in your mind.

The sharp smile Beidou sends Kazuha as he tightens his grip around your waist goes unnoticed. The weird tension that occurs is gone just as fast as it came and the liquor seems to hit you full force.

"I think I need to sleep, it's really hitting me now." Your head keeps falling onto his shoulder as you struggle to keep your eyes open.

"I'll escort you to your room Y/N-" "And I'll join you two with Xiangling, poor girl couldn't even handle the grog."

Kazuha's face is frozen in a smile as you drunkenly nod at Beidou. Xinyan who is still pretty sober waves at you all and you wave enthusiastically back.

Giggling as the room spins you let your body rest on Kazuha as he helps you down the stairs. Xiangling is thrown over Beidous shoulder as she follows you both down the stairs.

"If I ever let myself drink after this, I wanna drink with you next time Kazuha. Wouldn't it be fun?"

"That does sound nice, I'm sure the wind will have us meet again after this trip." Kazuha's voice can be barely heard through the fog in your mind. A crooked smile is on your face as you nod sleepily.

Fears of the future seem far away at this moment. The fear of coming across a statue of the seven and Zhongli appearing is like a distant memory. The mental image of saying the wrong thing, getting caught with the wrong group, and getting a torturous death is comparable to a dream.

As the urge to close your eyes gets stronger and harder to resist, you instinctively adjust your mask.

Your fragile and most important defense against a repeat of the Ei situation. Terror squeezes your heart as you realize just how dangerous this situation is.

All it takes is for Kazuha to remove the mask during your drunkenness. Whether it be out of curiosity of your face or kindness thinking it would be uncomfortable to sleep with it on.

Nothing you think, worry, fear, or do will matter after that. Despite the dismay, your eyes close as the urge to sleep overtakes you. With your consciousness drifting away and your body in the ronin's mercy.

I was really excited to post this chapter. Everyone's reaction to Xiangling's cooking was super funny. (Fixed it up on mobile so forgive the mistakes.) On the topic of Beisht, I have to say that my original plan was to have it be a oc. Haishan's ancestor from the Archon War. But after everyone was guessing Beisht, I started thinking if it could work. And surprisingly it did! All the main points I had with the oc worked with Beisht. Plus Haishan was still able to stay as a kid cause a visionless Beidou defeating a whole sea monster god just doesn't make a lot of sense unless he wasn't full-grown. And I honestly don't want to create an oc if I don't have to. I don't trust myself that much. Xiangling's cannibalism was supposed to be just a one-time thing. But a certain person mentioned Hu Tao and I realized I forgot to incorporate the rest of the world into it. So that's what inspired me to think deeper on it. I'm quite happy with how it turned out! It confirms Xianglings kindness, and the cruelty of the cult, and can help excuse any future plot holes I may accidentally create. So thank you certain person that I will not name in case that's uncomfy. I also wanted to ask ya'll a question. Do you guys expect certain sagau tropes from this series? Like I incorporated popular stuff like healing foods, mentions of gold blood, etc. But the only thing that I've really made set in stone in my sagau is the cult au and imposter au (without a true imposter masquerading as Y/N). I'm asking since I don't want people expecting something like a character to recognize us (like Fatui or acolytes from Khanriah -kaeya for example). Then get disappointed when I don't ever do that. Not saying I won't have interactions with those characters! I just don't want to lead anyone on. If you read this far then thank you <3. I really appreciate ya'll support. Just seeing a notification that I got a heart, comment, reblog or message makes my day. Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676

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