#it felt good to return to old form!!! Soon I promise!!

[tfboyzblog]

Mikey couldn’t believe it was working. That old spell book in his grandfather’s chest was for real. Holding Saul’s hand, he could feel a strange energy fill his body. 

“Holy shit lil’ dude” the older boy exclaimed. “Look at you!”  

Mike glanced to the side where he had his mirror and look at his reflection in shock. He was rapidly growing, almost reaching Saul’s height as a senior. His shirt felt increasingly constrictive as his arms bulged, chest muscles began to push the fabric, back widened. Take off the glasses and ditch the button-up and he could pass as part of the swimming team, or maybe the soccer team... 

“Wow...” was all he could muster in his new, slightly huskier voice. 

“Bro...” Saul nudged him, but the boy was too enraptured in his marvelous growth to notice the older boy begin to dwindle in height and lose much of his size. 

“Bro! I think you’re good for now! Let go!” Saul called louder this time, using his free arm to pull off Mikey’s hand from his own. 

“Oh!” Mikey exclaimed as he came to himself. “I’m sorry! I was so...” he began to mutter as his eyes went back to the mirror and his improved form “-amazed...” he concluded as he tried to move around in his too-small clothes. 

“Yeah... I noticed...” Saul commented in an annoyed tone as he lifted his arms to see how baggy his shirt was now. He silently appreciated the belt holding up his shorts. “Anymore and I’d come out of this looking like a middle schooler... “ 

Mikey looked at his friend, noticing how they practically saw eye to eye now, but the bulk and size the eighteen-year-old had before were gone. He’d still pass for a senior, maybe a junior, but a more average looking one now.  

He smirked. “Nah! You’re still a big boy.” He playfully patted him on the shoulder. “Besides, you’d probably be a cute middle schooler anyway.” He commented. 

“Don’t get any ideas, Mikey!” He pointed at Mike. “Don’t make me regret this!” 

Mikey nodded. “Don’t worry! I promise I won’t.” He hugged his friend, feeling the new power in his arms. If he wanted, he thought, he could hold Saul like that with minimal effort. It felt good. During his strong hug he could swear he felt a poke against his leg, but as he let go, he could see nothing out of the ordinary, aside from what could be a slight blush on Saul’s heavy tanned skin. 

“Thank you! I mean it!” Mikey said. “I just need to stop being kicked around by Hank and his imbecile posse. And now,” he attempted to flex a bicep, but stopping as soon as he started hearing a tear in the fabric “I can! And all thanks to you.” 

“Yeah yeah! I know I’m awesome!” Saul waved. “Just give me back my...” he looked up and down to the burgeoning athlete in dork clothes “you know, everything, next week. That should be enough...”  

“Don’t worry.” Mike said with a wink. “I’ll put your... everything to good use!” 

-- 

Saul left soon after and Mikey thanked the heavens. He couldn’t stand in these terribly tight clothes anymore! His shirt, his socks, but more urgent yet, his underwear. 

Taking off his button shirt with effort, Mikey was in awe of his new sculpted pecs protruding from his chest, he caressed them and followed down to an immaculate row of abs connecting to his waist. He pulled off the trousers, that now looked like they were close to tearing at the seams. His legs were wide and powerful. His feet looked bigger, even. And gazing up he stopped at his poor white briefs, pushing and compressing an impressive bulge. 

“Wow...” He moaned. “I guess I got some of Saul’s ‘other’ size too...” He thought as he pulled down the last piece of constrictive clothes. A long, girthy semi erect dick whipped out of the small nerdy briefs. “I must be, like... 7 inches now!” Mikey said, grabbing his newly improved fuckstick. It felt heavy in his hand, being accustomed to his 4 incher. “Poor Saul.” He thought, making a note to return him his size as soon as he could. 

“But for now...” He smirked and flexed his huge biceps. His dick twitched at the sight. “I want to enjoy the ride.” 

-- 

Saul was getting restless. The week was almost over and not a word for his neighbor. Mikey was always a good kid, and he was tired of hearing how he was constantly getting bullied by some idiot jocks... 

He looked at his mirror. He missed his muscles and the size he used to carry, but he couldn’t help thinking how he kinda looked cuter with a bit less meat in his bones, more of an average but still charming high school boy. He felt a tingle in his lower area, making him rethink all of that. If he knew Mikey’s weird spell would also drain away his size down there, he’d probably reconsider being a donor. Even in his boxers, there was hardly any bump in the front. His healthy looking 6 incher, now closer to 4, at most... 

Suddenly there was a strong knock at the door. 

Mikey! It had to be him! 

Saul flew down the stairs, only in a baggy t-shirt and boxers. He wasn’t prepared for who was waiting on the other side of the door. 

A hulking muscular beast walked in. “Hey there little dude.” He said in a deep voice as he looked down at Saul. “Did you get smaller since I last see you?” 

“Mikey?” Saul asked incredulous. This muscle god was at least 7 feet tall by now, his massive chest barely covered by a tank top, strong thick arms stretched behind his head exposing a pair of sweaty and moderately hairy pits. The monster smirked at Saul, and it was clear it was his friend’s face. More masculine, more defined, perfect skin instead of the normal zits, a killer smile... 

“I go by Mike now. Mikey was giving people the impression I was some tiny nerd or something.” He brings one of his arms down and casually adjusts his crotch. “And there’s nothing tiny here, right?” He laughs.  

Saul could see the outline of the massive snake in his underwear, easily spotted in all its thick glory even through the sweatpants Mike was wearing. 

“What...what happened? You were like...not half as big last week.” Saul asked the giant teen boy. 

“Well, it was all thanks to you, buddy!” He said as he walked towards Saul and grabbed him in a strong hug. Saul’s head resting against the boy’s giant pec. He suddenly felt inundated by the smell coming from his arms. Saul’s head started swimming and a tingle made his dick twitch. 

“You should’ve seen Hank’s face!” Mike laughed and let go of Saul, walking towards the living room and sitting in the sofa, legs wide apart. “When he saw I was as tall as him and was like, as jacked as him, I think he shat his pants. For the first day in my high school life, they left me alone. I couldn’t believe it was that easy!” 

“That’s great! But then-” Saul tried to speak. 

“I wasn’t done speaking, bro.” Mike interrupted, in a calm, but authoritative way. His voice caused a tingle to spread down Saul’s spine and into his lower area. 

“Well, you won’t believe what those pussies tried next!” He continued, now in a friendlier tone. Saul, however, couldn’t shake off the force the boy exuded and the respect he commanded with a simple sentence. He stood in front of the huge teen as he stretched on the couch.  

“They waited for me outside the school the next day. Waited for me to be alone and then Hank grabbed me and dragged me to old warehouse. I guess he thought he couldn’t put me in my place alone now, so he wanted to gang up on me where no one could see. Can you imagine though? How could those losers ever think my place was beneath them?” He laughed at the notion. 

“And wasn’t he surprised when he noticed my shoulders were too wide for him to grab me like that. And weren’t his friends shocked when he let go of me and was just a skinny brat. You should’ve seen his face. Wait. You can actually see it. I took pictures.” Mike said, picking his phone from his pocket. Turning the screen to Saul, the awe-struck boy could see a kid looking no older than 12, swimming in his oversized clothes, looking up in shock. 

“Glad I remembered grandad’s spell, eh?” He winked at Saul, who nodded, not wanting to interrupt his friend again. 

“Well, after the brat was taken care of, his friends were easy pickings, to be honest. With every bit of muscle I took, I took ability, masculinity, everything that made them jocks. They had nowhere to run, and I took it all.” He laughed. 

“So, what do you think lil’ bro?” Mike smirked at Saul as he flexed his gigantic biceps. 

Saul dry swallowed. What did he think. Right in front of him was the biggest 15-year-old in the world, most likely. He exuded power and masculinity. He fumbled for words. He felt butterflies in his stomach and the tingling in his dick was stronger than ever. Not just his dick, either. He felt a yearning, inside... 

“Mike-” he almost used his old nickname. “That’s insane. You’re like, bodybuilder huge!”  

“I know, right? Pretty sick!” He guffawed. “Didn’t feel the need to drain them as much as Hanky boy, but they’re pretty much nobodies now. Horny submissive nobodies, actually.” Saul was shook. “They can’t seem to quit my dick, now.” 

“But then again.” Mike grabbed a handful of cock “I got about four jocks worth of testosterone and musk so...” He looked suggestively at Saul “who would be able to...” 

Saul tried to repress the growing feeling inside him. “But your folks? I live right next door and saw nothing different. No one was surprised about this much growth?” He tried to change the subject. 

“Oh that!” Mike waved. “Another one of grandad’s spells. Basically, it normalized things. If you’re outside the spell, that’s how things always were. Kids at school all think that this is how I always looked. Well except for Hanky boy and the bottom bunch. Even if they wanted to tell someone what happened no one would believe them. I think they like knowing their muscles made me this huge, and if they don’t, they should. But yeah, since you were outside that spell it probably, sorta normalized things for you too...”   

Saul just nodded. It made sense. Even though his head was spinning from all this information and the increasing muskiness in the room. 

“So yeah. It’s all thanks to you, lil’ buddy!” Mike reached in front and grabbed Saul until the smaller 18-year-old was straddling his huge quad. Mike’s strong arms surrounded the boy and hugged him tightly. Saul couldn’t help himself but sitting on his friend's leg and putting his hands on his muscular body. 

“I came over to honor my end of the deal. Give you back your muscle. Your height. A few inches down there...” he chuckled. “Unless you don’t want me to.” 

Saul looked shockingly into his friend’s eyes, still holding to his pecs and shoulders. How could he think that was the case. For an entire week he’s been forced to live without his hard-earned physique. It’s not like it’s that bad, and he had to admit he fit real comfortably on Mike’s lap like that, but still... 

“Unless you want me to keep them. Keep looking like this.” He spoke softly, in a voice that twisted his thoughts. 

 “I think that’s what you want.” He chuckled softly; poking Saul’s modest but raging boner. A large wet spot already had formed on the front of his boxers. “And if that’s the case, I’m sure I can pay you back some other way.” Mike’s big meaty hand slid down Saul’s slender back until it found his supple ass. Saul yelped as the hand caressed his backside. “I’ll make sure to give it all to you. Again, and again...” He whispered at his ear. 

“But you have to be the one to say so.” He continued. “So, what will it be?”  

Saul still looked at his friend’s eyes, his hands wandered freely on Mike’s massive chest. He couldn’t think straight, and the yearning inside grew and grew until he finally admitted to himself what it really was.  

He wanted this muscle god inside him. He knew he’d gladly give all his muscle, all his masculinity, just to be owned by this perfect specimen. No matter how many others there were; to know he was Mike’s. To be used as he saw fit. Saul could only hope he was able to give more to this example of athletic perfection. More of his height, so he’d be smaller, and Mike could manhandle him with even more ease, more of his dick and balls, now useless for Mike’s intended purpose, so he could add more to the python and orange sized balls his former nerd friend now had. 

And as he imagined that and he became even more hungry for cock, Saul felt himself sink deeper, fit even more snugly in Mike’s embrace. He could feel the teenage titan stretch a bit more; his spine extend a couple more inches; his frame swell with some more pounds of muscle...  

Saul looked up at Mike and approached his mouth to his, still afraid to make any noise, and meekly nodded. After all, the choice was obvious. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Well this has been my first "longer" story and the first experiment in making stories without a picture for inspiration and instead drawing random themes from a choice wheel. This time the themes were Muscle Theft and Corruption ;)

The AI picture is just meant as a placeholder for now, as I haven't found a appropriate picture for it ( and I know you pervs prefer TF stories with pictures). I invite people to submit pictures to accompany this story. And finally, if you have suggestions of other places I could post my longer stories from now on, please let me know!!

[mydearlybeloathed]

── 𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 ²

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Joining your brother's crew hadn't exactly been on the agenda, so when it hits you that this crew is a family, you can't help but feel out of place.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: luffy's sister!reader x strawhats

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.5k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: reader's backstory revealed! reader gets sad :( kind of a filler part, luffy is a good brother

𝐎𝐏 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

With one hand raking through your hair, you kept the loose strands out of your eyes as the wind threatened to blind you. Your friends—three of the large crew of mercenaries that took you off Dawn Island—laughed alongside you. Your little boat rocked on the heavy seas, bounding up and down on the waves as the boat sped away from Marine Headquarters.

One of them clapped a hand on your shoulder, but you hardly heard what she said, her words like white noise against the chaos in your mind. Your whole body shook, shot with adrenaline. The oldest of your four came up beside you and fastened a rope. “Did you find what you’re looking for?”

You shook your head violently, prying a curious frown from the boy. “Then why’re you so happy?”

“I don’t know!” You laughed, unable to help it. You spotted a marine snapping a picture of your gleaming smile, knowing soon enough you’d have the bounty poster to show your success.

Marine Headquarters smoked with fires set by your friends—distractions so you could slink in and find Vice Admiral Garp for a brief chat. The toppled towers and buildings really sealed the deal on your legitimacy as a threat. You’d dragged the ground around underfoot, causing erosion and quaking as you made your escape. The Vice Admiral hadn’t been home, but you felt a kind of jubilation you never had before.

“I’m just… hopeful.”

Your friends met your smile tenfold, coming together as the nights drew on and the mornings promised a future side by side.

(A few years would pass before you got curious again, like a cat who forgot it hates water).

You and your three friends once again left the safety of the mercenary crew to venture off for your past. This time, you wouldn’t return. The four of you had a decent ship together, so it was finally time to start your own crew. Life was limitless.

“What if what you find isn’t what you hoped?” the eldest asked when you finally set off.

You gave him a shrug. “I move on.”

Unlike the first adventure for your origins, you found your target, the only one who could know anything about where you come from. 

In routine formation, your comrades formed a distraction, luring Garp’s subordinates away from the ship so you could sneak your way to his office. Not a soul spotted you, your path unhindered as you ghosted down the halls and burst into his office. Vice Admiral Garp sat hunched at his desk, his eyes slowly lifting at your entrance. He looked entirely unsurprised.

“Your performance at Marine Headquarters was impressive,” he said, nodding to the seat in front of him. You remained standing, face hard.

“I won’t stay long, mostly because I know you’ll arrest me.” Your adoptive grandfather nodded. “But answer me this, please, for old time's sake?”

Garp waited patiently. You stole a breath and shoved the question out. “Who are my parents? Did you know them? How did you find me?”

He gazed softly at you, or as softly as he could manage, and denied the one request you’d ever asked of him. “I can’t do that.”

Your jaw hung open. “What?”

“I can’t.” Garp adjusted as if he was uncomfortable, like the words you needed sat awkwardly on his chest. “Trust me when I say you don’t want to know.”

All the years of almost fondness came crashing down as your eyes went steel-cold. “That’s not your decision to make, Vice Admiral.”

His eyes bored into yours. “I’m giving you five minutes.”

“Garp—”

“Four.” He stood, towering over you. “Four minutes to get out before I become a marine again.”

The situation was falling from your hands. You stepped toward him firmly. “Grandpa.” He made no move. “I need to know. Why was I left alone?”

Though his hand rested on his pistol, you never flinched or batted an eye. He wouldn’t hurt you, his granddaughter. Despite all your differences, despite the blood you didn’t share, surely that still held you together. 

“Please,” you begged. The floor rumbled the longer your fists clenched. “Tell me.” His eyes darted up to meet your own. You nodded firmly. “I can handle it.”

Garp turned his back on you and heaved a sigh that shook his great shoulders, his brow pinched between two fingers. You had him. You knew you did. Any moment he would say a name, or a place, or anything that could lead you home. A home you’d never seen but felt deeply set in the cavern of your chest. And once you had it back, you’d be whole. Surely, this chasm created by the loss of your faux-brothers would be filled and you would be a full person once again—

“Red Hair.”

The floor stilled. The tide out at sea fell to a halt. On bated breath, you willed him to look you in the eye again. “Sorry?”

He had to have muttered. You heard wrong. Because those words with that tone could only mean one man, and if his answer truly was that man then your whole childhood you’d been on the cusp of fullness and he had to have known who you were, which meant many more things you couldn’t bear to think. 

But Garp opened his eyes and glared down at the piece of rotting floor at his feet. “Red Haired Shanks brought you to Makino and left. Makino was too young, had too many worries. So I stepped in.”

The seafloor broke in tandem with your heart. Somehow, the whole crew survived the sinking of Garp’s ship—somehow your friends had been captured along the way, and somehow you managed to escape and leave them behind. 

And ever since, the Silent Death roamed the seas, shaking islands and toppling cities in your wake, falling into anonymity as you lost every connection, every employer, every friend till the name was near forgotten.

Sometimes, though, in towns so small they don’t make it on a map, there are still whispers of the Earthshaker, swearing up and down there was something off about that girl ghosting down the street.

જ ⁀ ➴

You thought about that day often. How it ended. What it meant. Every time you found yourself happy, your laughter trailed off as the perfect image of Red Haired Shanks crossed your mind, or maybe it was the frightened looks on your friends' faces. 

Either way, you slipped out of the conversation as swift as the wind, drawing into yourself and growing eerily quiet. 

You liked to think yourself nonchalant, mysterious even, and no one could tell what went on behind your guise; not a single person on that crew could agree. As kind as your brother's friends were, they were nosey as hell. 

The faster you could get away from them, the better. 

It was just your luck Luffy’s next destination was the damn sky.

Luffy always knew how to defy the laws of the universe, always fooling around until gravity and physics gave way under his touch—but this was something else, even for him. The thought struck you as the Going Merry rode the knock-up stream, clinging to the mast as the pressure of the wind made your skin feel like it was going to fly right off. 

Though bleary vision you gazed up at your brother. He held onto his hat for dear life, the sound of his laughter overpowering the roaring waters of the geyser. The Luffy I knew could only ever dream of this. He was much stronger than the brother you left behind, and you suppose he had these friends of his to thank for that. The whole crew was crazy beyond compare; the Strawhat Pirates deserved each other, belonged together.

You hugged the mast closer as the brightness of the sun broke through the storm. Do I belong anywhere? You didn’t have the chance to fathom an answer. The Going Merry burst from the clouds and made a beautiful arc across the sky before plummeting down to meet the waters of the White Sea.

જ ⁀ ➴

The bonfire twisted and turned ferociously at the center of the celebration. What was being celebrated? You didn’t have a clue, but at least everyone was having fun. Luffy certainly was, dancing hand-in-paw with the weird wolves of the Upperyard. 

He was so happy that it made you a little sick inside. When you first joined Luffy on his ship, you thought maybe, just maybe, your luck would turn around. You wouldn’t feel so alone anymore, not with your brother at your side… but he wasn’t at your side. He was at theirs, these new friends he’d gathered. His new family. 

Luffy never did need you, not like you needed him, but he’d always been there. Now, sitting at the edge of the campsite, Luffy felt miles away on a jovial island where he got everything he ever wanted: a ship, a crew, a quest of sorts.

The issue was that you didn’t know what you wanted. How could you reach for something you couldn’t name? 

Robin moved from her place in the outskirts to join you in yours, settling down beside you. Her eyes glimmered and reflected the fire as it rose to its highest peak. 

“You’ve been quiet ever since we landed at the altar,” she said.

You hugged your knees to your chest. “I haven’t had anything to say.”

“I doubt that.” Robin cast you a sideward glance. “You seem far away.”

You jazzed your hands with a dismissive air. “Hate to disagree, but I’m right here, Miss All Sunday.”

It was like the air around her shriveled up and choked you violently. Robin narrowed her eyes into slits as she turned away. “That’s not my name. Not anymore.”

“I know,” you quipped, only a little sorry. “It still rings though, doesn’t it?” 

She stood with a final huff and trudged to join Zoro at a nearby log. Alone again. How you tended to be. It became more and more natural with every passing day. You rested your head on your knees to block out the sounds. You missed Ace. You missed Sabo. And despite his close proximity, you missed Luffy.

Nothing was turning out how it was supposed to. Nothing…

You wondered if you somehow made your way back to Dadan, then you would realize she was the family you’d never appreciated… but that was stupid. She hated taking care of you. You stood silently and turned to wander into the forest simply because you felt like making stupid decisions. Besides, maybe being alone would make everything make sense.

You hadn’t made it five minutes before someone called your name and you stopped, sighing sharply. Luffy stumbled through the brush to chase after you, a smile planted on his face despite the perplexed quirk of his brow.

“You know, most people walk into the woods to be alone,” you huffed.

Luffy’s brows vaulted. “Why would you wanna be alone? Everyone’s having so much fun. And it’s dangerous out here too.”

Searching for an answer, you took to leaning on a wide tree, propping your foot up against it. “I wasn’t having fun. I just—need to be by myself. Okay?”

He didn’t understand one bit, that much was clear from how he plopped himself down on the ground. Luffy crossed his arms with an expectant flair, nodding to the space right in front of him.  You rolled your eyes, considered bolting into the dark, and eased yourself onto the dirt. 

Ever since you were kids, Luffy would occasionally get this contemplative look about him. It frightened you to no end, especially now that he was older and grown into himself. 

“What happened?” he blurted.

“What do you mean?” you asked, head tilted. He could be so cryptic.

Luffy readjusted to lean forward a bit, the look in his eyes scrutinizing you head to toe. “I mean that you’re acting weird. Did something happen?”

You puffed indignantly. “I’m not acting weird.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

It was childish, maybe, but it didn’t stop you from glaring with an apparent pout on your face. Luffy rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “Are too. Everyone can tell.”

You glared with all you had till it fell apart in a shouted whisper. “Everyone?”

He gave a firm nod. “Yep.”

Begrudgingly, you grunted and stomped over to sit in front of him, your crossed knees touching his. “I don’t believe you.”

“Well, I noticed.” Then there was that. “Something’s wrong and I can’t fix it unless you tell me.”

An empty laugh peeled out of you. “You can’t just fix this, Luffy.” You can’t just fix me.

“Try me,” Luffy challenged, and if there was one thing he knew about you, it was that you never turned down a challenge. Or, at least that’s how he remembered you. But when you met his gaze and all he saw was something so starkly grey and sad, he realized just how dire the situation was. You’d lost your spark. “C’mon. Tell me.”

“Luffy…”

“Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me~”

“Shut up!”

“You fess up!”

With a growl almost feral you launched yourself at him, hands clawing at his shoulders as he rolled over and tried to get the upper hand. You kicked at his gut and flipped over once more, glaring down at him. 

“Stupid!” he shouted, pushing at your face and accidentally pressing on your eye, dragging a shriek from you.

“Idiot!” You yelped as he shoved you off and sent the two of you tumbling down a short hill until you rolled to a stop in a patch of wild grass. Chest heaving, you stared at the night sky through the trees, listening to Luffy grumble about a bruise in his belly.

Finally calming your pulse, you lolled onto your side and glared with the fire of a thousand suns—until that flame fizzled out instantly, exhaustion winning over. Luffy sat up roughly and you eased yourself up too, your heart picking up pace as the words bubbled up within you.

“You wanna know why I’ve been so… weird?” You met his eyes tentatively, finding not an ounce of anger or teasing anywhere in his gaze. Only genuine seriousness, a rare sight in your brother.

“Well, yeah.”

You puffed a sigh. “I don’t know if you ever knew, but I’ve always kinda wondered about where I come from, who my parents were. Dadan didn’t know, and Garp was never around…”

“I never knew that,” Luffy said to himself, brows taut.

“I never really mentioned it, but it mattered to me, y’know? To know where I was born… to who.” Instantly thoughts and worries washed over you. You closed in on yourself, arms wrapped around folding knees. 

Luffy shifted closer. “Did you ever find out?”

You couldn’t dare to look at him. What would he do if he knew? You’d both known Shanks, followed him around, pestered him with questions. He was Luffy’s hero. What exactly would this do to him?

“I found out.” Luffy ducked around to catch your fleeting gaze, draining the air from you. That hat was snug on his head, red ribbon dull in the darkness. “I don’t think I should tell you.”

Rolling his eyes, Luffy flopped over dramatically into the grass, taking to carding his hands through the soft blades. “Just spit it out already. Nothing you say is gonna make me think differently ‘bout you.”

“I… I went to see Grandpa a few months ago with some friends on my old mercenary crew. I stormed in and forced him to tell me. Never was able to leave well enough alone… I got so freaked out that I sank his ship and got my friends captured. And I just ran away. I never looked back.”

“Ace said you were in a tough spot,” Luffy hummed. “I didn’t really get it. So, you gonna tell me what’s the matter?”

Always to the point. You tried to crack your neck but the satisfying snap never came, only leaving an uncomfortable strain in your muscles. You lifted your heavy gaze and settled him with a final, hard look. 

“Shanks.” As soon as you shoved the word out a heavy weight lifted off your chest. Luffy tilted his head even as understanding washed over his expression, as if he refused to process what you meant. “Shanks is my father, Luffy.”

The silence was palpable, sticking to your skin like tar, filling your throat and choking out all the air. That weight was back tenfold now, triggered by Luffy’s stiffness. “Luffy?

“Sorry,” he said with a shake of his head, blinking out of a daze. “I just don’t understand. He never said anything.”

“I know, but why would Grandpa lie? It kinda makes sense. Shanks always had this look when he looked at me, like he… like he regretted something big. A kind of wince.”

His jaw set all of a sudden, his hand raising to take his precious straw hat off his head and hold it in his lap. The both of you stared at it a long time before he mumbled, “Are you mad?”

That was the question, sucking in a breath and releasing it roughly. “Honestly? I don’t think so. Yeah, it was a dick move to stick around the island but never say anything, and I’m kinda frustrated Makino never said anything either, but what would it have changed?”

“Then why’re you so upset?” 

“‘Cause I…” I don’t have a place. I thought maybe I came from a solid ground that I could return to and feel whole again. But I was born a drifter and a drifter I’ll die. “I don’t really know.”

Luffy set his hat on your lap. “You wanted a home, right?”

Your brother was always oddly perceptive. You tried to answer but the words got caught on the way up, a strangled sound leaving you at that familiar burn of tears rose in the back of your throat. “I guess. It’s stupid.”

His hands grabbed your shoulders and jerked you around to get your attention. Luffy wore his signature grin. “You don’t need Shanks. You’ve got me and Ace, and my crew too.”

You couldn’t help but scoff as you wiped at your eyes. “They don’t care about me.”

“What? Of course they do!” Luffy shook you gently. “They all like you, and they’re worried about you too.”

“Really?” You sniffled miserably, daring to believe him.

He nodded and dropped his hands only to light up and slap your shoulder. “You wanted to join my crew, right?” 

“I-I never said that,” you choked.

“But you do.” Luffy was getting excited excited. “I miss you. I miss our adventures.” 

“Well, yeah, me too…” 

“So join my crew!”

The offer was tantalizing, hanging just overhead like a delicious fruit. “I… can’t. This is your place, your family.” 

“It can be your place too.” As true as that may be, it would never feel like it. You’d be stuck feeling like Luffy’s add-on sister.

And so it struck you oddly. A thought you’d felt in the back of your mind for months now. All your life you’d felt out of place and on the side. Your origins didn’t provide an out, and your brothers couldn’t do that either. What you needed, you realized, was a home you made yourself.

“I know,” you nearly whispered. “But I know there’s somewhere out there for me. A place that’s mine.” 

Luffy only let himself wallow in the disappointment two seconds before he smiled scantly and flicked at your forehead, drawing a startled blink out of you. “Then I’ll help you find it.”

Your jaw hung slightly as he rose to his feet and reached out a hand for you. Swallowing thickly, you smiled and took it firmly in yours. He pulled you to your feet and braced for impact as you all but threw yourself at him.

“I have missed you,” you mumbled. “More than you know, big brother.”

You bolted away the moment Luffy let slip a gasp, cackling into the wind as he collected his wits and took off after you.

“So you admit it!”

“No one will believe you! Haha!”

“Hey—No fair!”

જ ⁀ ➴

bonus..

All around the camp, the party fizzled out as one by one the wolves and pirates alike drifted off to sleep. 

She stood on the outskirts just like she had been earlier, yet now she held this inexpressible content look about her. Even with a slight smile, she was probably the scariest woman you’d ever seen. Stealing a breath, you headed over.

“Uhm, Robin?” Her smile fell instantly, brows rising just so. Welp, it was now or never. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know that’s not who you are anymore and it was—insolent of me to do that.”

Robin’s eyes took you in like some kind of hawk, seeming to relish in your discomfort, till finally a grin chanced its way across her face. “It’s all right, I suppose. Thank you.”

You nodded gratefully and were just about turned to leave when she said, “I trust you figured yourself out, then?”

You glanced over your shoulder, unsure. “I think so. Yeah, I think so.”

She smiled. “Good.”

How odd all of Luffy’s friends were. How strange that they were all so bold. And how lovely that they cared, as hard as that was to believe.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lostfirefly @emmaiscool22 @thenightsflower @sylum @therinkuu @meritxellao @kultofkorii @100520s @kryscent

[neptuneiris]

detachment (01/03)

letting go and accepting what we can't change. detaching from the choices of others.

pairing: prince!aemond × niece!reader

summary: aemond not only breaks your heart after so many love promises, he also breaks his betrothal to you without any justification and announces his betrothal to a baratheon girl. now you will be married soon too.

word count: 7.9k

next part • series masterlist

Those had been his words before you left King's Landing and after you returned for an indefinite time due to the condition of your grandsire, King Viserys.

hello! i'm very happy to be back with a new story. new characters and new plot, now with our prince aemond🥰

comments and reblogs are always appreciated, thank you so much for reading, you are all awesome❣

"I love you."

But he had really felt them?

Did Aemond Targaryen truly loved you?

For a time, both expressed their love and devotion for each other, proclaiming kisses, caresses and titles that they wanted to seal permanently with a Valyrian wedding.

The affection began as children. You were never mean to your uncle compared to your siblings and his older brother, Aegon. And fortunately Aemond always appreciated the good treatment he received from you.

And that good treatment led the two of you to start spending a lot of time together. By sharing a taste for literature, having interesting conversations about the history of your ancestors or even learning High Valyrian, you both formed a fondness and affection for each other.

There was never any objection from your mother, Princess Rhaenyra, about a friendship between her only daughter and her half-brother, the product of her father's second wife and once best friend.

Nevertheless, Alicent Hightower did have a problem.

When she began to notice her second son's affection for Princess Rhaenyra's daughter, she had to forbid him to spend time with you with more than strict measures and supervision.

"Mother said I must not spend time with you. She said that our duties are different and that I cannot learn embroidery with you and you cannot learn to use a sword with me."

He had told you once when the two of them met in the library sneaking around in the middle of the night with a sorrowful look and a sad tone of voice.

"My mother has never told me I can't spend time with you, Aemond. She has never forbidden me."

You had told him with such disappointment as you understood that the two of you could no longer spend time together and that all those readings together could no longer be possible, neither could High Valyrian lessons despite the fact that neither of you have a dragon yet.

"I know, Y/N."

And he had told you that with such resignation that tears began to form in your eyes.

"Then… we can't be friends anymore?"

And even though Aemond Targaryen at his young age has always been faithful to his mother in everything she told him, the most respectful and obedient, simply the polite and perfect son, seeing your tears and your sad face, at that moment he decided not to obey.

"I'm never going to let that happen. We'll still spend time together, I promise. But we'll have to be very careful."

He had told you to then take you in his arms, hugging you. A hug that you reciprocated instantly, making you feel better knowing that their friendship would continue.

And he keeps his word.

You begin to have secret meetings in the library, the kitchens or in the gardens, both being very careful not to be discovered.

The lessons of High Valyrian continued, also the readings of stories about Old Valyria, the reign of Aegon the Conqueror or the First Men.

Sometimes you would steal bread or cakes from the kitchens, then hide in the library or in the innermost corridors of the Keep where you knew you could not be found.

Everything was perfect. Two innocent children enjoying a friendship and at the same time preparing for their respective duties to the realm.

Until one day, your mother decided to leave with her whole family to Dragonstone.

It was a very hard blow for Aemond and you because you had never been separated before. Your mother had never even considered leaving King's Landing as she was the Heir to the Throne and very much aware that she must remain at Court.

But Alicent Hightower had been more astute and by her behavior managed to dispossess the princess of her own home. And there is no alternative for you and Aemond to exchange letters and keep in touch as much as possible.

Once you arrived at Dragonstone, letters between the two of you were never lacking in that short period of time between your departure from King's Landing and then Aemond's accident at Driftmark.

Aunt Laena Velaryon had died and despite it being an unfortunate event, you were happy to see Aemond again and he too longed to feel close to you again.

However, the Gods are cruel and the accident marked Aemond's life forever, as well as the rivalry between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra.

And although Lucerys is your brother, Aemond, even in his state of hatred, never resented you for his lost eye, nor the clear rivalry between your mother and his.

On the contrary, the relationship between you was strengthened because you did not want to separate after such a fatal accident that made you cry while you hugged him tightly, thinking that maybe you could have lost him.

So the letters continued, some exchanges of gifts as well and even some secret visits that you allowed yourselves to have on the backs of your dragons to meet in a midpoint.

Or rather on a small island in Blackwater Bay.

Aemond had managed to claim Vhagar, the largest dragon in all the world and the one that once had Visenya Targaryen as a rider, while you claimed Silverwing, the dragon of the good queen Alyssane Targaryen.

Until King Viserys' health began to deteriorate in a serious and worrisome way, so your mother decided to return for an indefinite time to the Red Keep.

And the moment you and Aemond were reunited, that bond between the two of you only grew stronger, so everything formed the word courtship and it was no secret to your families.

It was no secret despite the clear rivalry between the Targaryens and the Hightowers and even more so with Alicent Hightower against the clear affection between his son and Y/N Velaryon.

But everyone knew that you are not a true Velaryon.

A bastard.

That's what you are in the eyes of the Hightower. And no matter that your hair was platinum like the Targaryen's, you were not the daughter of Laenor Velaryon, but probably of Daemon Targaryen.

Queen Alicent knows the depravity of Princess Rhaenyra and there was no other explanation for it, considering also that your brothers are bastards, but of Harwin Strong.

And Queen Alicent felt that spite and hatred for Princess Rhaenyra being so brazen and giving birth to children not legitimate. And the same thoughts she shared with her father, her children and Larys Strong.

However, Aemond didn't want to hear anything she told him about you.

He understood that his mother was angry with his half-sister, but that didn't mean she would have to turn him against you as well for something they had nothing to do with.

Bastard or not… you were always a good person to him. And all Aemond wanted, as well as you too, was to be together. It didn't matter that your brother was the boy who took his eye, that was a separate point for him.

And when you were ten and eight while Aemond was ten and nine, the talks and planning for a marriage began.

Marriage that was not approved by Alicent and Otto Hightower, but Aemond didn't care. He had already let too much time pass without making a move.

And that was dangerous considering that you are a princess of the realm and many lords had already asked for your hand. And because of your age, you had to make a decision now.

But you had already chosen him, in fact since you were a little girl. And now he had already done something about it by asking for your hand.

And finally you could both call each other husband and wife, what you always wanted.

Your father, Daemon, didn't agree to the marriage, Jace didn't either. But your mother took your wishes into consideration and spoke to your grandsire, King Viserys, who approved and gave his blessing for a marriage between his son Aemond and his granddaughter Y/N.

At this, Queen Alicent could do nothing, much less Otto Hightower despite their replies and clear displeasure.

And when your mother gave you the news, it made you very happy to know that finally Aemond could call you his and you could call him yours.

"But are you completely sure about this, my love?"

Your mother asks you, looking at you with eyes of love and understanding, holding your hand. To which you only nod with a small smile on your lips.

"Yes."

She smiles too, stroking the back of your hand with her thumb. Then she lets out a long breath and nods as she lowers her gaze for a moment, which catches your attention.

"You agree, mother?"

She again looks at you with a slightly bewildered look.

"It doesn't matter what I think, sweet girl. What matters is that you really are sure that he is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with."

"I know but your opinion matters to me."

Again Rhaenyra's sweet smile returns to her lips, watching you adoringly for a few moments to again let out a small breath.

"Well… I saw that coming, in a way," she smiles at you, "And I think we all do, actually."

"So you don't feel uncomfortable?"

"No," she denies absurdly, "I remind you that I did exactly as you wish, my love."

"It doesn't hurt to ask you and want to know how you really feel, mother."

Your mother is silent for a few seconds, thinking about your words and thinking about her own next.

"Well… if we go back in time, certainly your grandsire must have felt uncomfortable and… weird about the idea of his brother and his only daughter at the time together," she says sympathetically, "Something I never understood until now that I get to be in the same position as him. But that's our family and I couldn't oppose the idea of what you wish."

She assures you.

"Ever since you and Aemond started being inseparable as children, I knew it would turn out like this. And I knew that the thought of you both being meant to burn together could not be inevitable. And I understand that perfectly."

You nod slowly, listening and understanding his words, thinking.

"But father doesn't think the same," you say with some disappointment, "Neither do my brothers. They are upset with this and with me, I know."

"My love, you don't worry about them," your mother tells you immediately, "Your father will eventually understand, he can't be such a hypocrite, can he? And your brothers… they don't see that this will probably put an end to the rivalry between the two families, despite of happened in Driftmark. I don't expect Aemond to forgive Luke either."

She says and a wave of peace begins to envelop you.

"But there's always a chance and hope," she assures you, "So this is good, very good. Otherwise, Aemond would not have asked for your hand and I would not have spoken to the King to give his blessing."

That time your mother's words could not have comforted you more, making you feel genuinely happy and no longer feeling worried about the people around you because of your marriage to Aemond.

And that time you had also gone in search of Aemond after leaving your mother's chamber, finding him in the library, feeling relieved and happy.

"I spoke to my mother," you tell him, intertwining your fingers with his, "She said to be sure to set a date for the wedding with the king and she will tell us as soon as they come to an agreement."

Aemond watches you with a barely visible half-smile, all his gaze soft and watching you intently, with fondness and longing, noticing how you can't help but be excited about the wedding.

"And do you have any preferences for the wedding you'd like to share with me?"

He asks you softly, completely catching your attention, smiling at him.

"Actually, I should be asking you that question," you take a seat next to him, not letting go of his hand.

"I was the one who insisted on a traditional wedding," he reminds you with an obvious look, "You know I would prefer the Valyrian wedding, less people, few witnesses and everything just like the tradition of our house."

"The traditional wedding thing you asked for taking your mother's wish into consideration. She doesn't approve of this, so that's the only way to keep her less angry," you also remind him, "Still after our wedding at the Septon, we can fly to Dragonstone and have the Valyrian wedding we want. We can even stay there, just you and me."

Aemond smiles, bringing your hand to his lips, leaving chaste, soft kisses on the back of yours, understanding perfectly what you are implying, just what he desires as well.

"No celebration feast, then?" he peers over your hand.

"You want a feast?"

"It doesn't matter what I want, Y/N. All I want is to marry you and unite our blood, that's all that matters to me."

You smile softly, moving a little closer towards him.

"I know, nothing is more important to me too," you tell him softly, "but don't be so insensitive about the preparations, Aemond," you tell him amused.

He rolls his eye, still smiling and still not letting go of your hand for wanting to keep feeling your touch.

"Well, then tell me what's concerning you."

"They are not concerns, I just want to know your opinion and take into consideration some wishes you want to make."

"And what are those?"

"Well… your opinion would help me to know about what colors of the dress I should wear."

Aemond stops his caresses on your hand and watches you with a thin line on his lips and really expressionless for a few seconds without saying anything.

"I know perfectly well that this is about a concern of yours, Y/N," he finally tells you afterwards.

"Well, yes, it is a concern," you reluctantly confess.

"The colors of a dress?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do? Wear green or red?"

"My love, the dress will be yours, not mine. Besides, I know you don't like green."

"Yes but that color is yours."

"No, it's not mine, green is my mother's color," he reminds you, "I may wear it sometimes, but we are both more Targaryen than anything. So if you must choose colors, let them be red and black, just the same colors I will wear."

At that moment in front of him you don't show it, but you feel really relieved to hear his words, the dress being an issue that really had you worried sick.

So you get up, let out a long breath and sit on his lap, him instantly accepting you in his arms, while you drop your head on his chest in a defeated motion.

"What would I do without you," you murmur.

Aemond lets out a small laugh.

"'Rather what would I do without you, Issa jorrāelagon."

You let out a long breath, closing your eyes, taking comfort in the fact that you are in the arms of Aemond, the man you love.

"You're right," you murmur, "All I want is to call a Septon and have him marry us right now with no preparations and no other planning. I was going crazy over a dress and it's only the beginning."

"Don't worry, my love," he assures you softly, "We will plan the whole wedding together, without any third opinions and wishes. And in the end, it will all have been worth it. We'll finally be married, what we've always wanted."

You smile softly, lifting your face a little towards him to watch him, to which he also watches you, seeing your face light up, full of illusion and excitement.

"I still can't believe it."

"You know there's no turning back now, don't you? Once I see you at the Septon, you're already bound to me forever."

"Just what I've always wanted. Unless you don't want to."

"Of course I want to, I'm just warning you," he tells you with a smile, "And I also remind you that the blood of the dragon runs thick."

"We are lucky we share the same blood, my love."

Unable to help yourself any longer, Aemond's lips just above you being an invitation you complacently want to heed, you place your hands on his cheeks and begin to caress your lips with his, sharing a soft, affection-filled kiss that he reciprocates, holding you by your waist.

And even though you have shared countless kisses before, this one is undoubtedly different, because very soon he will be yours and you will be his, finally.

"Avy jorrāelan," you murmur against his lips.

"Avy jorrāelan, Issa gevie ābrazȳrys."

You let out a small laugh at his lips, pulling away from him a little.

"I'm not your wife yet."

"And your point is?"

You laugh again, stroking his long hair, watching his handsome face, stroking his scar as well, watching him with desire and adoration, all of him being what you want.

"Yet you will be soon."

And again he pulls you close in a needy kiss which you reciprocate instantly, really not looking forward to the big day anymore, wanting, no, rather needing to call him your husband as soon as possible.

And finally you can tell when the big day will be you are with Aemond in the gardens, both of you taking a walk before he goes to take his daily sword training and you get the seamstress to plan your dress, when your mother appears and approaches you both.

She has a small smile on her face, so you can tell this is good news.

"I spoke with the King a few moments ago. The Maester's are taking very good care of him and we have finally agreed on a date for the wedding."

"I hope it is soon," Aemond says to your surprise, listening and watching your mother carefully, with a serious gaze, "Though I would not be surprised if my father in his state, has suggested the end of the year."

"No, it's not like that," she tells him almost in the same condescending tone, "I let him know what you are expecting and the date has been dictated for before the end of spring, on another moon."

You hold back your huge smile and excitement, holding Aemond's hand a little tightly in a second out of excitement, that just sounding perfect, just what you wished for.

And even though you know Aemond must also feel the same happiness, he doesn't show it in front of your mother, holding back.

"Does my mother know?" he asks your mother in a softer tone.

Rhaenyra denies with a serious but restrained look of sadness and disappointment.

"No," she clears her throat, lowering her gaze for a moment, "I thought you would want to tell her," she confesses to him, "I never find the opportunity to talk to her," she purses her lips, "She won't let me."

Aemond at your side just nods in her direction, understanding. He also understands that this behavior on his mother's part towards his half-sister has always been there since she returned to the Keep.

And he doesn't think that will change, even after the wedding, but he appreciates Rhaenyra's efforts to try to talk to her and not leave her out of his wedding, despite her insensitivity at Driftmark.

It doesn't mean he'll be nice and friendly to her, it's just that little appreciation.

Then slowly Aemond turns to you and leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, locking you in his arms for a moment, wanting to feel you close.

You smile and hug him back, turning your face to look at your mother with a small more than happy smile on your lips, your mother also smiling in your direction, honestly feeling happy for the both of you.

News of the date begins to spread among the families and soon after throughout the Court as well, with the wedding of Prince Aemond Targaryen and Princess Y/N Velaryon being the most anticipated of the year.

It was still something Otto and Alicent Hightower didn't want, neither did Daemon Targaryen, but the King had already given his blessing and he himself wanted the news to spread throughout Westeros, wanting a truly unforgettable wedding.

Until a few days after your mother let you both know the wedding date, you unexpectedly began to see Aemond less frequently.

Usually the two of you every day go for a walk in the garden or meet in the library. And if you don't have time during the day, at night he sneaks into your chamber or you sneak into his through the secret passages.

However, none of that also happened to make up for lost time.

You would see him a few moments at the training yard with Criston Cole and a few other knights, but that was about it. And when you looked for him in the library, it looked like he wasn't going to spend any more time there.

And just when you decided to sneak through the secret passages to go to his chambers, you stopped and thought to yourself that maybe he's nervous and needs time to think about the wedding.

The wedding of the two of you is something you were longing for since you understood the meaning of a union that now that it's finally going to happen…probably has him very anxious and needs space.

Until the days go by and you start to feel that something is wrong, as you realize that he is avoiding you, something he has never done before.

You tried to talk to him but Criston Cole would let you know that he was having a meeting with his grandsire or was in the company of the queen. He would also tell you that the prince was out for a ride on his dragon.

You asked him to send him a message from you when he saw him, but it seemed that those messages never reached his ears or if they did, he ignored you.

And when you went to look for him at the training yard, you were told that the prince had skipped his training or had already trained very early in the morning, leaving you confused and not understanding anything.

You were completely disconcerted that the two of you suddenly stopped seeing each other and spending time together, so without thinking about it, one night you took the secret passage and slipped into the darkness with a candle in your hand and headed to Aemond's chambers.

But as you try to push his secret door, confusion overcomes you and your pulse stops for a moment when it won't open, being blocked by something from the other side.

You think about shouting his name, but instantly you know it's a very bad idea as you can't risk the secrecy of the passageways out of desperation.

But more and more disappointment and worry fill you, not understanding what is happening and thinking that it must be something bad.

At this, you show your concern to your mother, who continues to attend to matters at Court, keeping an eye on the King's health and helping you with the preparations for the wedding.

"Sure it's nothing, sweet girl. Men act in ways we don't understand, just as we act in ways they don't understand us. Perhaps he is preparing to be a good husband to you and both of you to do your duty for the realm.

"But it seems so strange to me," you say worried, "He doesn't talk to me, I practically don't see him and he even seems to avoid me."

"Have you tried to talk to him yet?"

"Yes, yes, all the time," you reply in an instant, "He even said he would help me get everything ready for the wedding but… I never see him."

"Y/N—

"I just don't understand, mother. We used to spend time together and now that we're finally getting married, he's acting weird."

"Sweet girl—

"Or is it that he doesn't want to marry me anymore?"

You interrupt him with a broken voice and utter disappointment and sadness in your eyes, realization starting to creep into your mind, truly not understanding anything.

"My love, you shouldn't go to extremes," your mother tells you in an instant, not wanting you to get upset and start thinking the worst, "He's been longing for this wedding as much as you have. He's probably just nervous and needs some time."

You look at your beautiful mother not so sure.

"Are you sure?" you ask her in a breathy whisper.

"Yes, my love, very sure."

She quickly moves towards you to lock you in her arms and comfort you, telling you that everything will be all right and that what you want so much , will finally happen.

But if only that had been it.

Not long after talking to your mother, once you head to your mother's chambers after leaving the chambers of your sweet Aunt Helaena with whom you were discussing some lovely ideas for the wedding, a guard intercepts you in the middle of the hallway, stopping you.

"Prince Aemond requires your presence in the Council Chamber, Princess. Immediately."

Such words could not have made you feel happier and relieved, finally ending this torture, so you quickly make your way to the Council Chamber, in an instant thinking about why Aemond has asked to see you there.

But honestly you don't care, all you want is to finally see him and talk to him.

And in an instant you already find yourself walking through the doors of the Council Chamber, happy to see Aemond's figure finally, standing with his back to you from the other side of the table, waiting for you.

But you must have thought something was wrong when he didn't even turn to look at you when he heard the sound of the doors opening and your footsteps approaching.

"My love, I'm so relieved to finally see you," you say with a smile, approaching him happily, "I was so worried, you don't know how much I wanted to see you and talk to you. I have so much to tell you, I even came to think that….

"I won't marry you."

Then your whole world stops, just like your feet, stopping abruptly at his words, your smile fading in a second and watching him now in shock.

The room goes completely silent, with no one else present, just the two of you, not even a guard present at his request for discretion… for now.

"I have spoken to my father… I have already cancelled all preparations, the Septon and my family have also been made aware."

And at his words, you feel like each one of them is a knife straight to your heart, tearing it from the inside, feeling an intent, sharp pain in your chest.

You look at him with your lips parted, your gaze completely bewildered and your eyes starting to fill with tears.

You are completely paralyzed, unable to move despite feeling yourself start to tremble, seeing him not even look back at you, telling you all this without any emotion, as if it meant nothing.

"Your family must also be being notified right now, the whole Court will know soon too."

"But…

You try to say with a thread of a voice, but he again speaks, still turning his back to you and with no emotion in his voice, no emotion in his posture either, leaving you to see a man you don't know completely.

"That's all. You can leave now."

Disbelief is completely reflected in your gaze, truly not understanding anything, with tears starting to involuntarily flow out of your eyes at his coldness and insensitivity.

Because he's already done everything… without you having the slightest idea.

"Are you serious?"

You manage to say, your voice completely broken and in a whisper, needing to sit up or lean against something, feeling your strength go.

"Doesn't it sound like I'm serious?"

"Aemond—

"I told you that's all, you can leave now," he repeats you with the same seriousness and coldness, as if you were nobody to him.

Then the first sob escapes your lips, trying to control yourself, but you cannot.

You continue to stand there, watching him with all the sadness in the world, also with all the confusion, really not understanding anything, needing an explanation, wanting to know why, what you have done wrong, what has happened, why he so suddenly changed his mind.

Everything was all right, everything seemed right, that you just don't understand.

"I-I don't… I don't understand anything—

"If you don't leave Y/N, I'll leave," he warns you, without even looking you in the eye for a second.

"But you… I-I… I thought—

He won't let you talk, he just doesn't want to listen to you and just like he said, that's what he does. He lets out a frustrated sigh and heads out of the Council Chamber, leaving you behind, heartbroken and not knowing why.

"Aemond," you call out to him between sobs, pleading.

Not knowing where you have drawn strength from, you move towards him once he is within reach, grabbing his arm, wanting to stop him and make him explain, but as soon as you reach him, he quickly pushes you away in a sharp, tactless movement, treating you, again, as if you were nobody.

"Don't."

He warns you in a threatening and cold tone, resuming his way to the doors in a more hurried pace, not even looking back.

His demeanor and coldness leave you completely shocked and static, never in a million years expecting such behavior from him towards you.

And once he leaves the Council Chamber, you feel your heart completely broken and your mind a mess of emotions, wanting to believe that this is not real, starting to cry and sob loudly.

A complete mess, Aemond leaves you there without explanation and without caring at all about your feelings, all being said and done.

Not long after, your mother and father rush into the Council Chamber, looking for you, finding you still a mess and you quickly asking them for explanations, explanations they had no idea about either.

And all that time, you kept asking yourself why, why he had done this to you if he was supposed to love you and want to marry you. But nobody understood anything.

Only he knew why he had done it.

Weeks have passed since the announcement of the cancelled betrothal between prince Aemond and princess Y/N.

You being the protagonist of the topic to talk about, even so the men and women of the Court were not at all dissimulated and kept feeding the news more and more with each passing day.

Different rumors ran about the possible cause that caused the wedding to be canceled, rumors that you did not want to hear and for which you ended up locking yourself in your chamber, not wanting to see anyone.

You barely slept and barely ate, watching the days pass by through your windows slowly, with huge bags under your eyes and dismissing your maids whenever they wanted to assist you.

You hadn't seen him since that conversation either.

You didn't hear from anyone except your family who were in charge of making you react by going into your chamber to take a bath and eat something, your mother extremely worried about you and your father specifically having someone in mind for wanting to murder upon seeing your state.

Everyone was still as confused as you were, even your mother asked Queen Alicent for an explanation, but to no avail. She even tried to talk to Aemond, but he wouldn't let her, saying that everything was already done.

It was so much the humiliation that not even your mother would force you to leave your chamber, no matter how much she wanted to get you out of your four walls, Daemon feeling extremely upset and indignant.

Your brothers never said anything to you, but they were extremely worried about you too, as were your sisters Baela and Rhaena.

Even your grandmother Rhaenys sent her concerns from Driftmark, but no one had any explanations for anyone.

And you too, despite everything, still wanted an explanation from him. You wanted to understand, you wanted to know why… because you needed to, you needed to know.

But you never tried to talk to him again. How could you if he had left you totally devastated with no justification?

And you knew that if you tried, Aemond wouldn't be willing to talk to you. He found it easier to forget and move on, as if nothing had happened, without caring, just what he is doing now.

Until one day the king requested a dinner with every member of his family, including you, without any exception, wanting to have a dinner with everyone together, wanting the waters to calm down after so much tension.

Your mother assured you that your grandsire was no longer blinded by the milk of poppy, that he made sure to drink less of it now, and yet you thought that your grandsire still conscious, made the worst decisions.

You could no longer continue to take refuge in your chambers, so with no alternative, your maids prepare you for dinner, dressing you and making you a hairstyle as usual, nothing new and nothing missing.

"You can do this, my sweet girl."

Your loving mother says to you, holding your face with both her hands.

"We will be with you at all times. I will be with you always by your side," she assures you, "You just ignore him, ignore them all, I will do the rest. Let's just please your grandsire on this, all right?"

Unable to help yourself, you hug your mother tightly and in one needy movement, to which she hugs you back with all that love and all that comfort you so desperately need, understanding you completely.

You try not to cry, because you've cried too much already and you're tired of it, but now you can't help it, needing your perfect mother for strength.

"Thank you," you murmur into her chest.

"I love you, my love. I would do anything for you."

You smile with happiness and sadness at the same time, with pain, starting to cry, trying not to make noise.

"I love you too."

She then tells you that you can stay a moment longer in her chambers before leaving to give you time, but what you don't want is to draw attention to yourself, so you prefer to arrive before anyone else in the dining room.

Then your whole family takes their respective seats, your father instantly giving you the seat next to your mother so that you are not sitting across from him, everyone knowing perfectly well which is his usual seat.

Then the doors open again and it's them, all the green ones.

You lower your gaze and pretend not to care about anything as he walks through the doors, following Aegon, just being in the same room as him making you feel something you don't know exactly what it is but you don't like it, feeling uncomfortable as well.

He doesn't look a single second in your direction either, but instantly being the center of attention of your father, who is the one who takes a seat in front of him, with Rhaena and Luke.

Shortly after, the King makes his entrance, everyone rising from their seats to greet him.

And more shortly after, you want to say that time fortunately passes quickly but unfortunately it doesn't, so you just suffer in silence, with your mother holding your hand from time to time, wanting to give you all her possible support in this.

The servants serve the food and wine, that fortunately distracting you, also the music your grandsire orders to play, this being a bit more bearable.

But all you want to do is get out of this room and never be in the company of all the Hightowers ever again.

You know that sweet Helaena is not to blame for anything, but she is part of them too by being Aegon's wife and already having three children with him.

And that couldn't make you sadder… sweet Helaena being wife to a man who doesn't deserve her.

Your father offers you his hand in a moment as Rhaena and Luke rise from their seats and head to the center to dance, also Jace invites Helaena.

Your father shows you his support even though he had said from the beginning that your betrothal to Aemond was a bad idea. But you are also his sweet little girl and he lets you know that he will always be there for you.

When the moment is interrupted by Otto Hightower, wanting to make an announcement, stopping the music and drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

You exchange a glance with your father, you don't even look in Otto's direction when everyone else does, because he is so close to his grandsire.

"Now that we're all together, I'm very pleased to let you know the great news."

Otto Hightower says and you raise your wine glass to your lips, not really caring.

"My grandson Prince Daeron who is in Oldtown, will soon return to the capital to marry Cerelle Lannister, daughter of our Naval advisor, Jason Lannister," he announces proudly.

Everything is silent for a few seconds, you still not giving importance to anything or anyone, still thinking about the great news, definitely.

You didn't even remember Daeron, he's been so long away from King's Landing that it's impossible to remember him. And before anyone says anything, just to corroborate what Otto is saying, he again speaks up.

"It is also my pleasure to inform you that my grandson Aemond…

Your heart stops for a second, as well as that definitely catches everyone's attention, everyone listening attentively and you too, unconsciously.

"He has also been betrothed to one of Lord Borros Baratheon's four daughters, the lady Floris Baratheon," he says and continues, "These two marriages clearly being more than excellent benefits to the house of the dragon and so securing our bloods, both the common and the blood of old Valyria."

At that moment you did not notice the exchange of glances from your brothers and sisters, also the mocking smile that your father let out when he heard the man's words, as well as the serious look on your mother's face when she heard everything.

You just focused on yourself, pretending none of it mattered to you, feigning indifference, when your mind could only repeat one thing at all times:

"My grandson Aemond has also been betrothed to one of Lord Borros Baratheon's four daughters, the Lady Floris Baratheon."

You want to cry. And a lot.

However, it was only more humiliation than necessary and you had to control yourself, needing this dinner to be over as soon as possible.

Again absolute silence is in the huge room, you couldn't care less.

When Alicent is the first to congratulate her son, as well as your grandsire in a weak and hoarse voice, then your mother also offers the coldest congratulations she has ever given, simply to keep up appearances.

And you can only think: was this necessary?

How mean Otto Hightower had to be and so did Alicent to want to humiliate you further by announcing such a thing, to you and your entire family for that matter. It just wasn't necessary.

Until finally the dinner is over and everyone can leave once the king takes his leave and retires to his chambers first.

Completely controlling your tears, you enter your room with your father more than furious, followed by your mother and your brothers and sisters.

"What the fuck was that!?" he inquires to your mother.

"My love—

"Do you really think I'm just going to stand here and do nothing!?"

"Oh truly? And what are you going to do?" asks your mother too, seriously, "Cut off the heads of Aemond and Otto Hightower?"

"They have humiliated us, Rhaenyra!" he exclaims to her in annoyance, "they can talk and humiliate me all they want, but they will not humiliate you or my family!"

"Father—

Baela tries to talk to him, but he won't let her.

"We're going to go talk to Viserys this instant and Y/N's wedding to that fucking one-eyed is going to happen."

"Are you serious?" your mother inquires again, "Husband, you were the first to oppose the marriage."

"They have humiliated our daughter, don't you see!" he points out angrily, "Her marriage to Aemond would have given us more power over them if we had him and Vhagar on our side. Now by the time Viserys dies, you're not going to have enough support for your claim," he tells her seriously, "We need Lord Borros on our side as well."

"Daemon, this isn't about the crown, this is about our daughter."

"And that is exactly why I will not let such humiliation pass," he tells her seriously and with a dark look on his face, "He asked for Y/N's hand, he gave you a whole speech to allow him to marry her, now he keeps his word or he marries no one, just like that."

"I want to go home."

You speak in the middle of all the discussion, staring at an unimportant spot in your chamber, tears running down your cheeks, your sad, tired, broken voice calling for everyone's attention.

Your mother and sisters quickly turn to you, concerned about your condition.

"What is it, my love?"

Your mother asks you, running her hands through your hair, watching you intently.

"I want to go home," you repeat, "I want to go to Dragonstone."

Your mother immediately looks at your father, who looks back at her, serious and attentive to you, feeling more upset at seeing you so broken.

"My love, we can't leave," your mother tells you in a soft voice, "We need to take care of your grandsire and stay at Court, as it should be."

"You stay here," you say in an instant, "I will go."

Your mother denies, understanding you, but unable to allow it.

"My love, don't—

"Mother please," you plead, "Please, at least just for a little while, I promise I'll come back," you beg, "But now… I just want to get out of here, please."

Your mother watches you for a few moments without saying anything with her lips parted, again exchanging a glance with Daemon, who nods slightly in her direction.

But Rhaenyra won't let you go just like that. She is your mother, after all.

"You'll be alone, my sweet," she says with some fear, "I can't leave you alone and I won't be at ease with that."

"She won't be," Rhaena says instantly, drawing everyone's attention, "I'll go with her and Luke will too. We'll come back when she's ready."

"No, absolutely not," says your mother resolutely, "I can't have the three of you in Dragonstone alone, no—

"Let them," your father interrupts, "I'd rather Y/N leave this snake pit until everything calms down. I feel better with the idea of Rhaena and Luke accompanying her, so the three of them will take care of each other."

"And we won't necessarily always have to stay at Dragonstone," Rhaena adds, "We can fly to Driftmark and spend a few days keeping our grandmother company too."

Your mother turns your gaze to you, who you completely beg with your gaze to let you do this, to let you go for now.

And of course, you feel completely grateful to Rhaena and your little brother for not letting you go alone. Clearly Jace and Baela are the heirs after your parents and it makes the most sense for them to stay here at Court.

Until finally your mother lets out a long breath, not herself believing she will accept this, being too afraid to let her children go to Dragonstone alone.

Though she knows there is no better safe place for them, even safer than King's Landing.

"All right," she finally says, "But I'll fly with you there and then I'll come back, just to make sure everything will be all right."

You immediately nod, not really caring, since all you want to do is get out of here and not come back.

Again your mother hugs you, transmitting all that comfort and affection you always need from her, really not wanting to leave here. You were so excited to go back to the Keep but you weren't expecting any of this to happen.

And now you just want to go home and come back when you feel better.

Soon enough you find yourself in Dragonpit, with your mother, Luke and Rhaena ready to fly to Dragonstone, with your father, Jace, Baela, Joffrey, little Aegon and little Viserys seeing them off.

All the while shedding tears, lasting more nights without sleep and more days with no appetite for anything, only finding comfort in riding your dragon as your mother was not around.

And as soon as you finish saying goodbye, the sooner you find yourself in the skies and the sooner you arrive at the black castle, your home.

You needed to let many moons pass to cope with your broken heart and such humiliation, also to accept that Aemond never really loved you and that he would soon marry another woman who would not be you.

But Silverwing was always there for you and could feel everything you felt.

Until one day, more moons after your departure from King's Landing, Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen return to Dragonstone with their entire family for a short time, promising to return soon.

And shortly after the Heir to the Throne leaves King's Landing, a raven arrives at the Red Keep, announcing the unexpected new news.

The Heir, Princess Rhaenyra returns to King's Landing in less than two moons with her prince consort Prince Daemon and her entire family to celebrate the wedding of Princess Y/N Velaryon to Lord Cregan Stark, Lord of Winterfell.

And that message is spread all over the Red Keep, all over King's Landing and eventually all over Westeros.

[johnbrand]

The New Fad

It was strange how this seemingly irresistible fad suddenly swept in. I took a sip of my coffee, noticing how every man appeared to be identically dressed from my chair outside the cafe. The city was filled with men in suits. On the clock, off the clock, even if their workplace required them to wear a different uniform, the second their hours where up a 3-piece would be resituated onto the body. 

This change had been so quick too. Brooks Brothers replacing Nike, businessmen replacing athletes.  At first it seemed like nothing, but soon people I knew started jumping on board too. One was once the most raggedy of counterculture punks, but the next time I saw him he had come from the barbershop with his spiked, flamboyant hawk mowed down into a tame, respectable cut. Two more of my friends were a colorful, progressive couple, yet I later found out through their social media they had split to focus on their “domestic financial endeavors.” They had taken up investments and accounting since.

I did not see the appeal in this rigid conformity, this sweeping mentality to return to tradition. It was simply too drab, too starchy. This new trend meant every man was perfectly groomed, stiffly suited, and promptly coordinated towards his career. And with this came the resurgence of other forgotten subcultures: the craving to marry a homebound woman, the chance to create numerous offspring, the promise of a nuclear family. As a gay male who considered business casual as the only form of formality, none of this interested me.

With a sigh, I took another sip of my coffee, readjusting the sleeves of my hoodie before grabbing my phone. A new software update had installed, boasting upgraded accuracy in facial recognition. Raising the screen to unlock the device, I dreamily absorbed the beguiling swirl of colors and patterns. The phone was thinking, recognizing my identity.

<ah…a lot of work to do here. lets see…gotta add some layers…no more hoodies or leisurely clothes for you. only formal articles. that collar should be stiff, and lets get you in a charcoal tie to match that dark standard suit. so much better.  dont you agree? just nod your head, thats a good boy. you dont want that shaggy beard or unkempt hair. no no, a good handful of texturing fiber will keep you with a solid, unwaveringly tall quiff. this is your new haircut, and that stubble will need to be maintained every day, got that? yes, you are a good boy, a good preppy boy.> <no no, just keep staring into the phone. you’re going to be clean and suited now, forever. returning to tradition, how men were always meant to be. and doesnt it feel right? dont you feel like youve come home? youve never felt so comfortable in your skin, so comfortable in your clothes. confident, conservative, and able to admit what you are. you are a preppy boy now. that sounds a little strange, right? thats ok, say it with me. preppy boy, I am a preppy boy. strange…but good, right? say it one more time. some may say youre a bit old-fashioned, but we both know why something becomes traditional–because it has always worked. nod your head slowly with me. it’s too hard to do anything but agree with me, right?> <now, the update is almost done, so let me just add in a few more quick things. lets see…fixation to the haberdashery…commitment to formality…dependence on the institution. what else am I missing…hmmm…are you a homosexual? no no, thats not going to work. good preppy boys are straight. nod with me, yes. desire of offspring…familial responsibility…an itch that can only be comforted by the omnipresent cinch of a fastidiously knotted tie. ah, it seems my time is up. just remember, your only aspiration in life is to be a good preppy boy. nod for me if you understand. thats a good preppy boy.>

Unable to recall what I was doing, I tucked my phone back into the seat pocket of my pressed trousers. I sipped once more at my coffee and took in the impeccable Financial District around me. All the men in suits, one could practically smell the crisp clean bills in their pockets. Back and forth from two destinations, the office with the other businessmen or the home with the wife and kids. Pulling up the sleeve of my suit jacket, my expensive watch informed me it was my time for the first. And once the hours were put in, I could return home to my own woman before beginning the cycle again.

[yoomiwrites]

Missing Ghost²

Summary: After losing her memory in a storm, a young Marine remembers only the name “Mihawk” and sets out to find him, convinced he holds the key to her past. As she sharpens her skills and follows his trail across countless ports, Mihawk is always just out of reach. Finally, she arrives at a port where his ship waits, knowing her answers are close.

Note: Since a lot of you enjoyed the first part —or rather the Trailer???— of Missing Ghost, I'll give you the second, which explains a little more. However, this story here won't get a fixed update scedule. But I promise, whenever we hit the 30 reactions, the new chapter will follow soon. Anyways, we got some skips here and there in this chapter, which might confuse you (sorry for that) but the next ones have a smooth flow. Gotta explain her side as well before we jump into our dramatic slow-burn.

The scent of saltwater clung to the breeze as I awoke, the distant murmur of waves steady and comforting, yet unfamiliar. It felt as though I’d drifted through a dream, a long, unbroken night I couldn’t remember. The first thing I saw was the kind face of an old woman bending over me, her hand resting on my shoulder as she whispered to someone nearby, "Thank heavens, she's alive."

For a year, the faces of this little coastal town became my whole world. These people—strangers at first, though I’d come to see them as family—had found me washed up on their shore after a heavy storm. They cared for me, helped me heal. They told me I had come in on a rough tide, barely breathing. My past was blank, a black slate, as empty as the horizon.

Yet there was a restlessness within me, a flicker of something left undone. I would catch myself watching the ocean, feeling a pull toward its vastness, like an anchor somewhere deep within me, half-forgotten and buried in the depths.

I tried to ignore it, forcing myself into a routine, helping with the nets, mending sails, doing small, clumsy chores around town. The villagers laughed at my mishaps, good-natured and warm, and I laughed along with them, though a part of me always wondered why everything felt so… wrong, somehow. Like wearing clothes that didn’t fit.

And then, one evening, as I watched the sun dip below the horizon, something strange came over me—a memory, slipping into focus for just a heartbeat. It was of a man, standing tall, his eyes as sharp as a hawk’s gaze, cutting through everything they touched. His form was shrouded in darkness, yet I could sense the weight of his stare, the cool indifference he wore like a cloak.

Dracule Mihawk.

The name surged through me, as if pulled from the depths of the sea itself. It tasted familiar, filled with fear and awe, with a reverence that felt misplaced, yet urgent. His voice echoed in the back of my mind, words as cold and biting as steel: “You’re supposed to be watching me, not getting yourself killed.”

And then, like a fragile thread slipping through my fingers, the memory faded, leaving only the faintest trace, like footprints in the sand washed away by the tide.

Days passed, and I could think of little else. The name haunted me, a specter hovering at the edge of my consciousness, tugging at some long-buried duty. I tried to bury it, to shake off the strange yearning, yet each time, it returned stronger, more insistent.

Then, one night, as a storm rolled in, I felt a reckless determination rise within me. I had to know who I was—had to know why the name of a Warlord carried such weight within me, why it felt like my life had revolved around that solitary, distant figure.

As the storm thundered above, I knew what I had to do.

I packed what little I owned, slipping away before dawn. I didn’t know where I was going or if I’d even find what I sought, but I knew I couldn’t stay here, not anymore. I had to find Mihawk, to remember why he haunted my dreams. And maybe, just maybe, I’d find myself in the process.

In my heart, I could still hear the echoes of my own laugh, wild and breathless, lingering in the back of my mind like a fragment of the past I couldn’t quite grasp.

The small boat cut through the waves, though each crest grew higher and stronger, rocking the vessel with an intensity I hadn’t anticipated. For a while, I managed well enough, adjusting as the water slapped against the sides, my hands tight on the oars. I’d learned to fish out here, enough to know how to read the currents, to feel when the sea was ready to turn against you. But now, as I looked out at the dark, churning horizon, I felt a prickle of doubt.

My mind kept drifting back to him—this elusive figure who seemed to haunt my memory and my purpose. I couldn’t shake the feeling that finding him would somehow explain everything, that he held the key to the pieces I couldn’t remember. Mihawk. The name itself felt heavy, burdened with something I couldn’t name. And each time I tried to recall him, his face slipped away, features blurring into the shadows, like he was some phantom my mind had conjured.

But even though his image stayed frustratingly vague, the feeling was as sharp as ever. I knew it was real. And I knew I had to find him.

The waves rose higher, and I braced myself, leaning into each swell with a determination that was half instinct, half desperation. The salt stung my skin, the chill of the ocean seeping into my bones, but I pressed on. It had been around a year since I’d woken on that lonely shore with no memory, no past, nothing but the kindness of strangers who didn’t ask questions. And yet, beneath the surface, this pull toward something—someone—was always there, like a silent tide that had finally dragged me out to sea.

I tried to picture him again, forcing myself to concentrate. A flash of his eyes—piercing, unyielding—came to mind, and I felt my heartbeat quicken. I could almost hear his voice, cold and amused, saying once more: “You’re supposed to be watching me, not getting yourself killed.” There was no warmth in those words, yet something in them rang familiar, almost comforting, like I’d heard them countless times before.

A hard wave broke against the boat, yanking me from the memory. I gasped, feeling the boat tip precariously before I steadied it. Every time I focused on Mihawk, on those fractured glimpses of the past, the sea seemed to rise in response, as if testing my resolve. I wondered if he was as dangerous as the ocean itself, as indifferent to life and death, sweeping in and out of people’s lives without a trace. And yet, if he truly was that figure, why did I feel this pull to find him, this sense of trust mingled with wariness? It made no sense, but here I was, risking everything on a memory as thin as smoke.

Ahead, I could see the faint outline of an island, its shape barely visible against the steel-gray sky. Relief mixed with fear as I realized I was getting closer to my goal. If I could reach a port, I could ask around, maybe find someone who knew his name, or knew where he could be found. Mihawk was a Warlord; surely, someone, somewhere, would know something about him. At least that was what the kind people of my island had told me.

But as I rowed, a single question lingered, haunting me as much as his name did: If I found him, would he remember me?

I couldn’t shake the image of those intense, unreadable eyes watching me, studying me like I was some strange creature that had somehow stumbled into his world. And though the image was as unclear as the horizon in a storm, I felt a flash of defiance, of determination. If he didn’t remember me, I would make him. He was the only link to who I had been, to everything I had lost. And if I had to face the storm to get there, then so be it.

Another wave crashed against the boat, nearly knocking me back. My hands ached, but I held on, fighting the urge to look back at the safety of the shoreline far behind me. I kept my eyes forward, fixed on the island.

The dock was bustling as I arrived, my clothes soaked with sea spray, exhaustion settling into my bones. But my heart was pounding as I scanned the horizon, hoping, daring to believe that maybe, just maybe, this time he would actually be here.

I had been on his trail for what felt like forever. Each time I thought I’d caught up to him—whispers in taverns, rumors in passing, a hushed mention of “Hawk Eyes Mihawk”—I’d find nothing more than empty docks or vague traces of his presence. It was as though he was always one step ahead, a shadow slipping through my grasp. I grew used to the strange, half-maddening cycle of arriving somewhere, just a few hours too late. There’d be an empty mug in an inn, a murmur of a cloaked figure sighted in a nearby town. But never him.

At first, it had been simple enough to pick up his trail. I found myself listening intently to sailors’ tales and buying drinks for anyone with even the slightest hint of information. But as months turned into years, I learned quickly that mere words weren’t enough. I couldn’t rely on others. So, I fought. I survived, tracking down pirates and mercenaries who owed their lives to Mihawk—or feared him enough to give me scraps of knowledge, little more than breadcrumbs. With every fight, every encounter, I grew stronger, a clumsy, scattered style slowly becoming something sharper, something that could almost be called technique.

I could almost feel Mihawk’s ghostly disapproval as I fumbled my way through fights in the beginning, wielding a blade with a mixture of grit and inexperience. He was an image, a goal I couldn’t quite touch, and as time passed, I wondered if he’d simply vanish again like the dream I couldn’t remember. But something in me wouldn’t let go. He was out there. And the small memories I had of him felt realer, more vivid, as if he were watching, aware that I was on his trail, though always staying just out of reach.

Sometimes I wondered if he was avoiding me, if he had no intention of ever meeting me again. Perhaps, to him, I was nothing more than a ghost, something easily ignored and forgotten. The thought gnawed at me, but I kept going, surviving each storm and each struggle, clinging to the hope that I would find him, that I would finally learn who I was and why he haunted my memories.

And now, as I stood at the edge of this crowded port, I felt a surge of hope—and fear. His ship was docked here, the enormous black vessel unmistakable, casting a shadow over the water. People whispered in awe and fear, as if his mere presence filled the air with a kind of sharp, electric tension. There was no mistaking it; he had to be here.

I took a shaky breath, trying to ignore the thrill of adrenaline mixed with exhaustion. After all these months, all these years of following nothing but a rumor, I was finally close. Somewhere in this town, he was here. I could almost hear his voice again, cold and distant, watching me with that sharp, unreadable gaze, reminding me of how far I still had to go.

This time, I wouldn’t let him slip away.

[the-californicationist]

Guile & Guilt (Ch. 07)

Soap/Reader

TW: sex

MDNI/18+

AO3 LINK

I'm so sorry for the wait!! I hope this long chap made up for it. I really appreciate all the comments and reblogs. It really keeps me going. The next chapter is gonna be rough. Hope you're ready for it. I'm not!

CHRISTMAS EVE

The lecture hall slowly began to fill with graduate students and professors. A gaggle of undergrads huddled to the side with their notebooks, surely attending by someone else’s command and not of their own volition. They were all dressed in various layers of warmth. Anoraks and sweaters rustled and stretched in the cloth seats, the odd peacoat was hung carefully over the edge of a chair. It was nice to have a small crowd, but you were sure everyone had somewhere better to be. The only people that would show up to the long-standing tradition of a Christmas Eve colloquium were the die-hard academics and those desperately needing extra credit in their year-long lab classes.

You liked this lecture room the best. The big arching stadium seating made you feel like a surgeon in her theatre, carving up your poems and displaying their abnormalities, arguing in favor of their spectacular forms, illustrating your skills with grace and ease. It was all well and good not to be the patient on the table. Today’s victim would be Sonnet 91. 

The projector light blinded you in an unnatural blue, making you turn away from its lens, and you pretended to busy yourself with your notes as you waited for it to warm up. You shuffled the papers again, and you had a sip of water. Just fidgeting. If you stopped moving, you’d think about him, and you didn’t want to think about him. 

He’d gotten your message from Gaz, that much was clear. You knew because you started receiving sunrise texts again — just the pictures, though — and when he needed to go out on a mission, you’d get your little promises. You sent him back what you received. If he sent a sunrise picture, you returned it with your own. If he said that he promised, you said it, too. You wanted him to call. You wanted to drag it out, to gut it like a fish, to see all the entrails of your feelings and the bloody evidence of your battle to be together, all of its innards smeared across a cutting board, sterile and measurable. 

But, for some reason, you couldn’t do it. You tried to type out what you’d wanted to say, but none of it made sense. It was all just begging and pleading and wishing for things you couldn’t have. So, you stopped. You kept up the replies. You matched his energy. It wasn’t until he sent you a screenshot of his flight itinerary that you started to realize the other shoe was dropping on you very soon. 

He was supposed to fly in sometime this very afternoon, but it wouldn’t be only him. You’d heard from Pidge that his whole team was coming with him, eager to meet her and Hamish, apparently. You didn’t know what emotion you felt about that, but its anonymity didn’t stop you from feeling it. 

You’d sent him back a Google Maps screenshot of your apartment, since he was supposed to be your ride up to Old Kilpatrick, and he sent you back the thumbs up emoji. 

It was embarrassing to you that the slight change in send-reply patterning made your heart race. You felt like your brain could benefit from a hard reset, like an iPhone that had chosen to get stuck on the same application, unable to move forward to the next task. 

So, you’d tried to put him out of your mind. When your labmate begged you to take her place at this colloquium, you jumped at the chance. A presentation would take up so much time and energy; surely it would cure you of your obsessive behavior. Unfortunately, Sonnet 91 felt all too timely. 

You watched it populate the screen, the first four lines occupying the cold, unembellished center of your slide, professionally stark:  

Some glory in their birth, some in their skill,Some in their wealth, some in their body's force,Some in their garments though new-fangled ill;Some in their hawks and hounds, some in their horse;

You wondered where your glory would come from, if you ever had any. Then, as if to answer your question, the hall door opened and he walked through it, carefully propping it open behind him and letting his three enormous friends through. Johnny was freshly shaven, and his mohawk was back, trimmed on the sides and groomed to stand in a tall, brown shock. You could see the prominent scar on the side of his head, a sharp cross where the hair could no longer grow. 

There was an observable air of confidence to his movements, as if this was his hundredth colloquium, as if he attended them every week. His surety silenced you, and you stood staring, rapt. 

He met your eyes. The bright, glassy blues found you, set in a pleased way, fully at peace. It was the face made when something lost had been found, when a gift was unwrapped. A knowing gleam. 

If you didn’t start talking, people were going to ask you if you were alright. So, you introduced yourself, shakily but smoothing it out as you went,

“Good evening, and thank you for joining us at the 2023 Christmas Eve Colloquium tonight. I love this tradition, and I really appreciate you all being here. If you didn’t get the, uh… the handouts,” you pushed the stack across the desk toward the undergrads who all crowded around them like seagulls with an old French fry, “Okay...”

You pointed up to the sprawling slide,

“In looking at Sonnet 91, most would argue that it is a confession of love. But, it is a tentative one, at best. The speaker claims that despite whatever glory others may have, his glory is found in his lover. We don’t learn until the couplet that his affections are at risk of not being returned.”

You flipped the slide, showing the next four lines:

And every humour hath his adjunct pleasure,Wherein it finds a joy above the rest:But these particulars are not my measure,All these I better in one general best.

It was all very simple. This was an easy sonnet, and there was no real mystery, but as you came to the end, you tried to reiterate your thoughts quickly, feeling the pressure to let people get on with their lives,

“The speaker makes quite a substantial claim here, so much so that the audience may be led to believe that he is being intentionally facetious, especially if one were to consider the content of Sonnet 92.”

“No,” a deep voice from high in the back protested, “I mean, I think I disagree with you, lass.”

The whole room woke up. Everyone turned quietly in their seats, generating a symphony of creaking and rustling of chairs and coats, craning their necks to look at Johnny who, for some reason, had stood up in his aisle.

“Oh, how so?” You said politely, trying to be deferential. 

It was more than a little uncomfortable in the room. No one ever asked questions during the colloquium, even though that was its intended purpose, and certainly no one ever stood up when they asked it. Everyone usually just allowed the speaker to drone on and on about whatever topic they were into that week, and there would be polite applause at the end so you could all go home early. Ironically, Johnny had committed an act of rebellion a mere five minutes into your talk. 

“Well,” he crossed his huge arms over his chest, shoving his muscles against each other. Amongst the mostly lithe, soft-bodied academic crowd, he and his friends looked out of place. He raised his voice, sending it arching down to you like an arrow, “I’m pretty sure he’s genuine. Look at the next four lines.”

He pointed to the glowing screen. You sighed, flipping slides.

Thy love is better than high birth to me,Richer than wealth, prouder than garments' cost,Of more delight than hawks and horses be;And having thee, of all men's pride I boast:

“Look, bonnie,” Johnny chuckled, “I dunno about you, but if I’m boastin’ about a wee hen who’s more than all that — more than wealth, more than all men’s pride? She must actually be somethin’ to boast about.”

You countered, trying to get the talk back under your control, flipping to the next slide: 

Wretched in this alone, that thou mayst takeAll this away, and me most wretched make.

“Then what of his lamentation in the couplet?” You asked pointedly, listening to the sounds of creaking chairs again as everyone turned back to look at you as you responded, “Surely he has some reason to doubt this uniquely prideful love.”

Johnny shrugged,

“He doesnae doubt the love; his life cannae be separated from his love. Love is all there is. Ye ken it from Sonnet 92 when he asks: But what’s so blessed-fair that knows no blot?”

You smiled, slowly, knowingly, and then finished the couplet for him,

“Thou mayst be false, and yet I know it not.”

You were aware of the implication you were wielding like a knife down there in your theatre, staining your hands and hurling your scalpel at him, accusing him through verse of the same sin you’d thrown in his face the last time you spoke to him: of being false, of betraying Pidge. 

Johnny shifted his weight, frustrated, but standing his ground,

“It’s not… he doesnae think it’s false, hen. Tha’s not it.”

Were you still arguing about the poem? You couldn’t tell. His face had become serious and a little pleading. So, you responded in verse since it would fit the conversation either way, 

“How like Eve’s apple doth thy beauty grow, if thy sweet virtue answer not thy show.”

“And I would bloody eat it anyway, thief. False or no.”

There was an awkward silence and then a short, if a bit unsettled, polite applause. People began to shuffle out, standing, stretching, and chatting with each other as they made their way back into the hallway. A few of your labmates waved at you, and a friend from your cohort wished you a happy Christmas. 

Johnny sauntered down the stairs toward you, leaving his friends lounging in their seats, and as he came closer and closer, you felt like you were the one on the slab of your own theatre, open and vulnerable to the empty room, fully at the mercy of your operator. 

You thought he might pause, that he may stop walking and stand a few paces away, ready to talk things out, but he didn’t. He didn’t even slow his pace. Johnny grabbed you around your jaw with his enormous hand, his wide palm hot against your chin, and he pulled you into him, your lips sliding into his, pressing together like the last piece of a puzzle, completing a picture. 

His body was so warm as you crashed into his arms, and he held you down, pinning you like you would fall away from him if he let go. You couldn’t do much else other than submit to his strength; you didn’t want to do much else. You grabbed him around his waist, feeling him through the thin cotton of his shirt, tumbling into him as he forced your mouth to take his tongue. 

Johnny let go of a low moan, a sigh that couldn’t escape, and the hand that had been holding your face was now fisting your hair and running thick fingers through your soft strands. 

He pulled back without warning, gasping as he whispered to you, speaking with his forehead resting on yours and his eyes pinched closed,

“Did you mean it, what you told Gaz? Am I right? Is this right?”

You took a deep breath, smelling his soap and his cologne, the scent of his skin so familiar to you it seemed like home. His eyes remained closed, and he wore a mask of pain, holding himself back from truly letting go. You nodded, whispering back to him,

“You were right.”

Then, his eyes shot open, finding yours immediately, looking back and forth to peer into both of them at once, searching for even the slightest hint of deception,

“Are you fallin’ for me, mèirleach? ‘Cause I’m… I cannae go halfway. I’m in, or I’m out.”

“I’m in,” you smiled, laughing a little at your confession. He kissed you again, softly petting your hair, holding you close. But, you paused and looked up at him with a warning glare in your eye, “But, look, she cannot know. Maybe after the wedding, but… she cannot find out.”

“She won’t,” he was smiling back at you, making it look like it would be on his face forever, “I’m a professional spy, lass, or did you forget my wee entourage back there.”

He nodded up to his friends. The captain was asleep with his hat over his eyes, snoring in long, regular rhythms. Ghost was using a datapad, staring intently at the screen, and Gaz was using two hands on his cell phone, tapping vigorously, engrossed in some sort of game.

Johnny whistled, quick and shrill. The men stirred, peering down at him and making their way toward you. When they reached the bottom, they all towered over you, ready for polite introductions.

“John,” the scruffy, bearded one shook your hand first. His fingers were dangerously strong, and it shocked you to feel it against your own palm.

A young man was next. You knew it was Gaz, but you hadn’t seen a photo of him yet.

“I’m Kyle,” he smiled. He was even nicer in person, “We texted, before.”

You nodded, smiling back, and introducing yourself.

Then, it was the big one.

“Simon,” the tall blond shook your hand for a brief moment, just enough to squeeze and release. 

“It’s really nice to meet you all,” you said, “I’m glad you made it for the holiday.”

“We try to stick together ‘round this time of year,” Price explained, but you weren’t sure you fully understood his meaning. You just smiled and nodded. 

“You ready to head out?” Johnny asked you.

“Yeah, just need to head back to my place and get my bag.”

“Alright, hen,” Johnny smiled, “Lead the way.”

You led them up and out of the building and into the cold night air. Your apartment was only a short walk from this side of campus, so you decided to forego the bus ride. 

Johnny had your hand clasped in his so tightly that you wondered if he was alright. You looked up at him, and he smiled. You didn’t know how to say all the things you wanted to say, so you just commented on the most obvious one first,

“Where did you learn Sonnet 91? Or 92 and 93 for that matter?”

Gaz interrupted you, turning his head to talk over his shoulder as you walked behind him,

“Bloody stuck in his Kindle for months, he was. I think he read them all, and then he read them all to us. We’ve had more of the Bard than fuckin’ Lizzy the first.”

You gasped and made a face at Johnny, waiting for him to answer for his actions. He just shrugged, his cheeks flushed either from the embarrassment or the cold. 

Price walked up beside him and knocked him a bit on his shoulder, ribbing him along with Gaz,

“Especially that one. What number?”

“Fuckin’ 145,” Ghost groaned.

Then, in unison, the three soldiers all started reciting it aloud, their voices sing-song and purposefully annoying, 

“Those lips that Love’s own hand did make breathed forth the sound that said “I hate” to me that languished for her sake…”

Johnny shoved Gaz back to the front of the group with his free hand, laughing it off,

“Alright, alright, you bastards. I may have read it two or three times…”

“Two or three hundred, Sergeant,” Price rolled his eyes. 

You grinned up at Johnny, humming your pleasure,

“Wow! I’m impressed. Didn’t know you were such a Shakespeare fan.”

Gaz scoffed, 

“It’s not the poems he’s a fan of!”

Price smacked him on his arm, stopping Gaz from being too mean in his playfulness, aware that Johnny had his limits of what he would allow to be said in front of you.

“Mmm,” you answered noncommittally, squeezing Johnny’s hand as it held yours, clutching at you like the end of a rope, holding you like an anchor to his hull.

As you made it to your apartment, you pointed to the small coffee shop on the corner of your block,

“Do you wanna wait somewhere warm? I’ll only be a minute.”

Price snorted, grinning as if he had just remembered a private joke, 

“Go help her with her bags, Sergeant. C’mon, lads.”

The trio left you together, and Johnny waited for you to open the door to the lobby. You buzzed in and waited for the elevator in the quiet foyer. 

He was silent the whole ride up to your floor. You thought he’d have more to say, especially after just getting back from a tour. You wondered what was keeping him so quiet. 

You jiggled your key into the lock and pushed your way inside. Marlowe was on the futon, lounging in her favorite position, but when she saw the strange man in her house, she bristled and fled beneath your bed. 

“Marlowe,” Johnny said, recognizing her. 

“Yeah,” you smiled, grabbing your vitamins from the kitchen cabinet to put in your bag, “Sorry, she’s afraid of strangers.”

“It’s alright, hen. I love your place. Look at that view. You can see the river and everything. That’s class.”

He was being polite. Johnny was way too big for your apartment. With him in the space, it felt like you may as well have lived in a tent. It was such close quarters that you spent most of the time edging around him to get to your stuff. 

“Can I…?” He was pointing down at your bed, asking to sit. 

Recognizing your rudeness, you nodded,

“Yes, of course. I’m sorry. Can I get you a water or something? Tea?”

“No, I’m good,” he sat and smiled, still looking around the space, taking it in. To be fair, there wasn’t much to see.

You continued to pack, trying to hurry knowing his friends were downstairs waiting for you. 

“Okay, toothbrush… I think I’m all set. Are you ready?”

“No,” he was looking down at the floor, and his tone was so soft that it made you stop your packing whirlwind to listen to him. 

The silence deepened between you, and you tried to be patient. Neither of you dared to move, but he met your eyes. 

“What is it, Johnny?” You asked, still waiting. 

He stood and walked the half step it took to stand before you. His huge shoulders blocked out the light, and you could tell he was chewing on his words, working them over and over to make sure they were right. 

“I need to know…” he said quietly, running his fingers through your hair again, “I need to know if you are havin’ any doubts about this, lass. I dinnae want to pressure you, and I know I shouldnae be asking you to lie to her, but I need you, mèirleach. I need to know you’re not still havin’ doubts about the way I feel about you.”

Were you? You weren’t sure. You knew he cared about you, and you didn’t have any evidence that he was playing you, but Pidge’s warning still raged in the back of your mind. 

You sighed,

“I don’t doubt that you have feelings for me.”

“But, you think they willnae last?”

“I don’t know, but I want to find out. It’s just hard to have confidence in a secret.”

He furrowed his brow,

“I’d call her and tell her now, if you’d let me. You wanna wait, hen. And I’m fine with that. I am. But, how am I supposed to show you who I am when I’m not supposed to be showin’ you anything at all?”

You didn’t know what to say to him, and it made you feel discouraged. Maybe you were wrong. Perhaps you should have kept your promise after all, and this was just too complicated. 

Johnny watched the guilt spread across your face and chased you down with his eyes, his tone laced with dark suggestion,

“Unless you want me to show you now, thief.”

You did. You wanted him to show you everything he was. And, you understood what he was asking you for. The nerves between your legs pulsed, and blood rushed down your arms, excited for whatever he was threatening you with. You wanted him to fuck you right here in your apartment. But, you hesitated, very aware that if you said yes, if you let him show you what he wanted you to see, you wouldn’t be able to come back from that. The guilt would eat you alive. 

“Your… friends…” you picked at the zipper of his thick coat, stepping close enough to him that you could feel his heat radiating from inside the fleece lining of it. 

“My friends can wait, thief. I can’t.”

“Then don’t.”

The same way a bear trap snapped shut, its teeth digging into the writhing flesh of the creature inside its metal maw, that was how he caught you in that moment. You looked up at him, eyes wide and expectant, and you were greeted with a hunter’s smile. He knew he had you, and he went for the kill, putting you out of your misery. His arms wrapped around your body as he kissed you with a high fever, moving from your mouth to your neck as quickly as he could, devouring your soft flesh there, nipping and sucking at you frenzied and harsh. All of his gentle reservedness was gone, pushed aside in favor of sating his wild craving. 

You were on the bed in a second, your back flat, pressed into the mattress by his heavy weight. He didn’t readjust. He allowed his body to pin you down, crushing you beneath him. You tried to rid him of his jacket; there were so many layers between you, and you were eager for there to be none. 

He helped you, shucking off his coat and shirt layers quickly before returning to your mouth and throat, breathlessly panting as he kissed and licked your throat. His chest was bare to you then, and the cold metal of his tags stung your chest as they jingled out of his clothes, falling onto you like two silver coins. You rubbed his body down, pressing into the muscles of his neck and back, feeling them jerk and lunge as he moved above you. He kissed your mouth again, moaning through his nose. 

Then, he was peeling you apart, taking your clothes and tossing them away, pulling off the tissue from a coveted gift. Johnny didn’t even take time to pause at your bra; he just yanked it over your head with the rest of your clothes, unceremoniously. While you were sucking on his tongue and kissing down the scruff of his jaw, you heard his boots thump onto the floor, one after the other. 

All that remained between you were your slacks and his jeans, and he was forced to leave your mouth to deal with the barriers. He made his way to your breasts, sucking on them hungrily, but not playing. He was done playing with you, it seemed. 

He popped the button on your pants and tucked both of his hands into the waistband, grabbing your panties along with it, and ripped them down your legs with a deep grunt. You were naked, and the denim of his jeans raked against your sensitive skin. He was grinding his body against you as you were trapped beneath him, and you felt his hips rock back and forth as he rubbed his cock against your core, trying to use the friction inside of his jeans to find some pleasure, returning to your nipples to lick them into stiff peaks. 

You wrapped your legs around his hips, your thighs halfway between the skin of his ribs and the bite of his belt, letting him thrust against you. 

“Johnny,” you whispered, “Take them off.”

“Not yet, hen.”

You moaned, feeling his crotch pressing hard against yours, but not being able to find any sort of consistency in the texture. 

“Why not?” You asked and begged at the same time.

“Because…” He kissed his way down your belly, settling his face between your thighs, “As soon as I do, I’m gonna fuck you, mèirleach. And I’ve not tasted you, yet.”

His mouth was wet and hot and just what you wanted. Johnny ate you like he was on a mission. There was no careful exploration like the first time. It felt like he was eating you to satisfy his own craving, and your enjoyment was merely a fringe benefit. 

You keened as loudly as you dared, crying out for him as he lapped at your folds, hunting down your flavor. 

Then, he began to speak to you as he sucked on your clit, pausing to say his words before returning to his font to swallow more of you down into his throat. 

“Do y’know how long I’ve waited for this, hen?”

Suck, lick, kiss…

“How many nights…”

Suck.

“...in the sand…”

Lick.

“...in the bloody dark…”

Kiss.

“...waiting to have you in my mouth like this.”

Lick. Lick. Liiiickkkk…

“Oh, fuck, Johnny!” You bit down on the back of your hand, reeling from the pressure building in your center, feeling chills on your arms and chest, “Please…”

“And when Gaz told me…”

Suck.

“...I didnae believe him.”

Lick.

“But, I wanted to. I wanted to believe…”

Kiss.

“...that you were really mine…” 

Suuuuckkkk.

“...mo mèirleach…” 

Liiickkkk.

“...mo ghràdh.” 

You started to come, your hips vaulting into his strong jaws, and his eyes found yours, bright and clear, staring at you, watching you fall apart in his mouth. At the last moment, just before you fell over the peak, he wrenched his eyes shut and sucked even harder, yanking you into a furious, crashing orgasm. 

Then, desperately scrambling to taste the result, he thrust his tongue deep into your hole, his entire mouth suctioned to your pussy, reaping his soaking reward. 

“Johnny,” you sobbed, overwhelmed by the power you felt growing inside of you, bursting across your body like hundreds of little fireworks.

He was back up by your face in a moment, cradling you and kissing you with your come smeared all over his lips and cheeks,

“Shh, shh… it’s alright, lass. I know what you need. It’s what I need, too.”

You heard his zipper and watched him slide out of his jeans, kicking his socks off with them, naked with you once more, and now with full intent. His cock was drooling onto your belly, the precome leaving long, sticky trails as his swollen shaft traced its way up and down through your folds. Johnny’s cock was so hard that it felt like a warm, iron pipe was pressing into you, threatening and dangerous. 

You must have worn the concern on your face because he chuckled down at you, kissing your forehead sweetly as he humped himself against you,

“Too much for you, thief?”

You let your hands meet in the middle, holding his dick with one on top of the other, effectively jacking him off as he thrust forward and back, wetting him with his own lubrication, and you watched him throw his head back in sharp need. You smiled up at him,

“Not yet.”

“Jesus Christ,” he paused, holding his position, poised like a viper. Then, he looked down at you, suddenly serene, “Do you need a condom?”

“No, do you?”

“Fuck, no,” he said, and he immediately sank his head into your softness, melting into you with a slick slide, trusting you implicitly, believing you like a disciple. 

Your body hadn’t experienced a cock as thick and as hard as his. It wasn’t uncomfortably long, but its upward curve was particularly cruel. It was built to torture the soft pleasure-ladden spot inside of your walls, dragging across it as he fit himself inside of you. It took a few thrusts until you felt his hilt, but you were wet enough that your pussy didn’t need much coaxing. He was sighing above you, audibly and full of relief, his face bent and twisted in a perfect torment. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck… thief, holy fuck. Oh, Christ. I cannae… oh…”

His thrusts were audible. Flesh pounded into flesh, and the wet noises coming from you seemed unreal. Each and every time he entered you, pressing through you and molding you to his shape, you felt sparks of bliss within your belly, expectant and eager. 

“Johnny… it feels so good. You feel…” 

“You alright, mo ghràdh? Do you… mmmph, fuck… do you need me to slow down?”

You imagined what that would be like, and your pussy railed against it, feral and wanton, fighting any semblance of gentility with sharpened teeth and greedy claws. 

“No, please… don’t.” you kissed his cheek as he lay his head into your shoulder, deep in concentration, rolling in his passion.

Your kiss made him turn to face you, kissing your mouth so softly, with loose, relaxed lips, gently sliding his cheek across yours like a huge cat, rubbing himself all over you. He didn’t stop, but he spoke to you darkly, 

“I’ll do whatever you want, lass. Tell me, and it’s yours.”

“This,” you sighed, moaning as another wave of pleasure made you clench down around him, gripping him from within you with a fluttering squeeze, “You. Just you, mo chridhe.”

You tested out the nickname you’d used before, hoping to encourage him. You may as well have poured kerosene on a fire. He narrowed his eyes at you in disbelief, obviously hearing it and using it like war paint, covering his body in it, staining himself in it, changing himself from the inside out to fit its definition. He lay his head next to yours as he worked his cock within you, grunting through gritted teeth with each heavy thrust. His body started to tremble, shaking with his need to come, and the low, long whine that came from his throat made it sound like he was boiling over with blinding pleasure. 

He took both of his arms and crossed them behind your back, grasping your shoulders from behind in a painfully tight hold. Then, pressed to his chest, he lifted you, settling you in his lap in the lotus position, keeping his cock sheathed deep inside of you. You grabbed onto his neck instinctively, holding him like a lifeline, rocking your hips into him to chase that friction. 

Johnny sighed, pressing his forehead to yours, 

“Yes, yes, yes, thief. Take it. Fuck yourself on me, hen. Use me. I wanna feel you come, mèirleach…” 

He begged so sweetly, and you were happy to oblige. You used his shoulders to brace yourself while you pushed your body down onto him, spearing yourself over and over. At this new angle, his cockhead hit your g-spot every single goddamn time, and you were dizzy from his menacing shape. He snaked his hand between you to press on your clit, not even rubbing it but applying force, giving you something to grind against. The combination of his hand and his cock and his growling whines of struggling for control were enough to do the trick, and you saw white behind your eyes as you fell into a chaotic, plunging orgasm once again. 

“Fuuuuckkkk…” He groaned loudly, his voice turning vicious, “You are mine.”

Your body fell back to the bed and he shoved your legs onto one of his shoulders, fucking you as deep as he could go, stretching you as he did, throwing himself into you as you came down from your high. He was shouting, curses and praises, all in a filthy, animalistic snarl. Johnny just kept repeating the same phrase in a cultish chant, mindless and recursive, completely beyond himself, past reality. 

“You’re mine, thief. Mine.”

As he came, he searched for your eyes, staring into them, showing you his elation. You ran a hand across his scalp, your fingernails dragging through his mohawk, and you saw the whites of his eyes as he rolled them back into his head involuntarily. You held onto his hair and gave it a little pressure, holding his skull in your hands as he filled you with his spent pleasure, his cock throbbing, pulsing rope after rope of hot come into your belly, frothing and foaming around the base of his shaft as he fucked you through it. 

20 MINUTES LATER

You were so worried that his friends would make some sort of comment. As you walked back to the coffee shop, tucked under his heavy arm, you prepared for the playful banter and the jeering. His mohawk was destroyed, and you were both glowing with a sheen of sweat, matching in your states. You knew that they knew. You could also tell that Johnny was bracing himself for the worst, steeling his resolve before entering the cafe. And you thought you would get, at the very least, some mention of how long it had taken to get your bags. But, when you made it to the coffee shop, they didn’t say a word. They smiled, and although they smiled knowingly, there was more affection in it than mischief. It shocked you. After all the ribbing from before, to have none now seemed like some kind of gift. When Johnny realized they were going to let him keep his prize for himself, uncontested, he began to glow with pride as much as pleasure. 

The ride was not quiet, though. All of their stories from Urzikstan and its many dangers started to come out. Price told you about how Gaz and Ghost were almost incinerated in a cobalt mine, and Johnny was showing off his newest badge - a retro SAS pin Price had given him for rescuing the other two from said mine. The blue wings and the motto surrounded a bright sword.

“Who dares, wins?” You asked, trying to see the words in the dark backseat. 

Ghost, who had needed to sit in the front with Johnny because of his height, nodded, taking the pin back from you to admire it.

“Well deserved,” Price commented beside you. 

“Sounds like it,” you agreed. 

Johnny had been so sweet to you after his ferocious lovemaking, you thought all the medals in the world might not be enough to thank the man. No one had ever been so kind nor so attentive. Most of the time, you and whatever lad would clean up separately, maybe watch a show or two and then say your goodbyes. Not Johnny. He spent most of his time admiring your body, making sure you were intact and unharmed. Then, after covering you up with your softest throw, he came back with a hot towel and cleaned you up meticulously. He lay beside you until you felt good enough to get dressed, and still as you were putting your hair up, he made you a tea and finished packing your bag with the things you’d forgotten; your vitamins on the counter and your phone charger. 

When you came out of the bathroom, he had stripped your sheets and put them in the hamper, and Marlowe’s food timer had been set. Her litter box was clean, and the automated litter keeper was reset. You wondered fleetingly if he had wiped down the counters as well. 

The drive felt shorter than usual, especially since your thoughts were on other things. But, when you pulled into Old Kilpatrick, Johnny spoke up to the whole car,

“Look, no one says a fuckin’ thing about us to my sister. To anyone, alright? She’ll find out when she’s bloody meant to.”

The men agreed to keep quiet, but Gaz mouthed off beside you, 

“Sure we can keep a secret, Soap, but what about you? I wouldn’t give you a medal for impulse control, mate.”

Johnny eyed him in the rear-view mirror with a stern glare,

“Aye, but then that’s my problem, you daft bastard.”

 Gaz rolled his eyes, grinning all the while. 

By the time you’d arrived, the only open spot to sleep was a big pallet on the floor of the living room. Hamish was the only one awake to welcome you, and he set you up with pillows and blankets to camp out like a row of sardines. 

“Hey, lass,” Hamish told you, “Go sleep with Pigeon. She’d murder me for leaving you on the ground.”

He looked worn out, and although you didn’t mind sleeping on the floor, you didn’t have any real reason to insist. So, you hugged all the boys good night, making sure not to take too long on Johnny’s turn, and retreated to your post. 

Pidge was snoring softly as you entered the room, and you got ready for bed as quietly as you could, plugging in your phone to the nightstand. It buzzed, and you saw his message flash up on the screen:

Mo Chridhe: miss you 

You: i miss you too

Mo Chridhe: im still in a wee shock

You: why

Mo Chridhe: you. cannae believe youre mine

You: i am. and youre mine johnny mactavish.

Mo Chridhe: promise

You: promise

CHRISTMAS MORNING

Waking up with Johnny and sitting around the tree together with your coffee was every bit like Christmas morning as when you were a child. Instead of presents, you were content to sit as close to him as you dared, pretending to be making room for others by finding spots on the floor beside the gifts and stockings. 

All together, it was Johnny, his three soldiers, you, Pidge, Hamish, Hamish’s mum and dad, and Roger. Rodger had crashed on the couch last night, the Hamiltons had taken Johnny’s room, and now you were all crowded up in the small den, passing gifts around and chatting as you opened your presents. There weren’t many, but it was enough to feel like a holiday. 

Roger got the Playstation he’d been begging for from his brother, and his parents had bought him the games. Pidge had given Johnny a new set of headphones since his had melted in the cobalt mining fire. She also got him a pound of her shortbread cookies, which he was stuffing into his mouth with absolute abandon. He’d bought her a tea set off her wedding registry, and Hamish had landed a very aggressive knife from him. The professor was already being given a tutorial by Captain Price, and you tried not to laugh as he practiced stabbing the air with him in the kitchen. Price was scary when he did it, but Hamish looked downright silly. 

“Okay, alright. My turn. Here,” you gave out your cards to everyone in attendance, but pulled out a box for Pidge. 

“What did you do! I told you not to, hen. I am going to give you a laldy, and you’d deserve it!” She hugged you around the neck and jiggled the box. 

Satisfied with the rattle, she tore into the paper and gingerly lifted off the lid. Inside, she saw the MacTavish tartan, woven into a full shawl, embroidered with a tiny pigeon in the corner, just for her. She inspected it with wonder, her breath fully stolen away. 

“Did you… You made this? Are you doin’ your weavin’ again, babe? I thought you gave it up.”

You shrugged,

“I found a reason to give it one last shot.”

Pidge started to cry real, honest tears, and she reached out for you, clutching the shawl to her chest, sobbing, 

“Thank you, hen. Thank you so much. After they buried mum in hers, and I didn’t… I couldn’t touch it anymore, I just…”

You held her and rocked her back and forth, smiling at her outpouring of love,

“I know, babe. I remember you saying so. But, now you’ve got one of your own.”

For a moment, you stole a glance at Johnny. The whole room was a little moved by your gesture, but he looked… unwell. He was standing behind everyone, and you were the only one looking at him. His hand was clasped over his mouth, and he had tears coming from his eyes, unblinking, letting them roll down his cheeks one after the other, staring at you, frozen in place. He was so unsettled that, for a moment, you thought you’d made some error. But, as Pidge recovered, so did he, and he wiped his face to return to normal; putting on a mask of an expression, hiding whatever he had just shown you. 

“You’re the best damn friend I’ve ever had, hen. And I love you. Dearly.”

“I love you too, Pidge.”

“Here, here, open mine! It’s not as braw as all tha’ you did, but still.”

You were handed a gift bag, and you peeked inside. You found a book of poetry with some incredible illustrations inside, and a charm necklace with a silver boar hanging from it. 

“It’s our wee clan beastie. You may as well be a MacTavish by now, hen. So, I thought you should have it.”

You smiled, letting her put it on you. Then, you hugged her tight, 

“You don’t know what that means to me, Pidge.”

Pidge laughed through dried tears, still emotional,

“Ha! Says you, miss weaver. Honestly.”

You let her gush over it a little more before you retreated back to your position beside Johnny. You pulled out the four smaller boxes from your bag and handed them to the soldiers, indiscriminately since they were all alike. 

“What did you do, thief?” Johnny’s voice was low, and he was grinning up at you, staring at you through those dark lashes.

“Open them,” you urged him. 

They did, and one by one they all pulled out small compasses, made with built-in flint strikers, hanging from tied paracord. It was the most tactical practical thing you could find on such short notice, but they all seemed pleased. Gaz shook it at Price, 

“This would’ve been bloody helpful in South Tobraka!”

You laughed, 

“Well, I’m sure it’s a little too low-tech for you, but Merry Christmas anyway.”

“It’s bloody perfect,” Gaz smiled, clapping you on the back. Ghost nodded, and Price hooked it to his lanyard without questioning it. 

Johnny bent over to whisper to you as discreetly as he could, 

“Gotta sneak off to give you mine, lass.”

You smacked him on the arm, whispering back, watching Pidge like a hawk as you did so to make sure she couldn’t see you,

“Don’t be naughty.”

Johnny laughed, 

“No, no. I’m serious.”

“Alright!” Hamish clapped his hands, causing you to jump out of your skin, “Who’s ready for crackers?”

CHRISTMAS NIGHT

You and Johnny were curled up on the couch with a steaming cup of sweet wassail, scrolling through the photos you’d taken that night. You popped two crackers together, pulling out your paper crowns, your gold and his blue, snapping selfies and reading the jokes to each other. Everyone was in their crowns by the end of the night, and while Price smoked cigars on the porch with Gaz and Ghost, Pidge and Hamish had driven his parents and brother home. 

You were finally alone after having such a full house, and your gift for him was burning a hole in your bag. You were dying to give it to him, but he beat you to the punch.

“Alright, mèirleach, are you ready for your wee gift? It’s probably gonna earn me extra PT for a few months, but it’s worth it.”

“Why?” You asked, setting your cup down on the end table and turning your body towards him. 

“‘Cause I’m not even supposed to have these off-duty, much less hand them over to my American lassie.”

Johnny dug into the neckline of his shirt and pulled out the dog tags that you had encountered last night when he took you to bed. The coin jangled on the chain as he pulled it over his head, and like a medal for an award you had not won, he looped it behind your neck, letting the coin fall between your breasts, still warm from his body and now warm from yours. 

You pulled it up to read its stamp, staring at the words:

O POS 2073521 MACTAVISH SAS RC

“Wanted you to have it, lass. A wee piece of me to keep safe, if you will.”

It was hard to know why you started crying, but you felt the searing tears fall down your cheeks as you stared at the tag. His blood type was what started it all, and you began to imagine all of the times that this thin coin would have warranted such a label. 

“It’s alright, mèirleach, if you dinnae —”

“No,” you raised your hand to his face, closing your other hand around the coin and pulling it in to your chest, eager to keep it safe just as he had asked, “Thank you, Johnny. I love it.”

He turned his face toward your hand as you caressed his scruffy jaw, and kissed your palm, holding your hand with his so you couldn’t escape. 

“I got you something, too. But, it’s small, and now I’m afraid you won’t have anything to hang it on.”

You dug in your bag and pulled out a small cardboard box with a thin red string tied around it. There was no card, there was no name printed on it, but he knew it was him nonetheless. He took it from you, almost snatching it, excited and surprised, not waiting for it to be given. 

“Thief! You didnae have to do that,” he was grinning, and his eyes gleamed, full of sudden joy. 

You’d found an old locket at the charity shop, and your gift had fit inside perfectly. When he opened the clasp, he froze. You’d use a scrap of the shawl that you’d woven for Pidge and cut a little circle from it, embroidering a tiny map of Scotland over the threads, planting a little red heart over what was almost Glasgow. 

“Mo mèirleach…”

“Mo chridhe.”

As soon as you said his name, his eyes found yours and he leaned in to kiss you, clutching the locket in his fist, tight, tight, tight. 

BEFORE DAWN

That night, in his bed, smelling his oranges and cloves, his scent filling your nose, covering you with his sheets, you lay buried in his chest where his tags used to lie, your cheek now warming the skin beneath. You imagined the compasses that dangled from the four sets of keys strewn across the kitchen counter. You thought about the shawl that was wrapped around his sister as she slept in her bed. Holding his locket in your hand, you ran your fingertips over its tartan, borne of the same threads as hers. You wondered about tomorrow, and the day after that, and the year ahead of you, and you felt a tightness in your own chest as you considered the timeline stretching out before you, woven from the choices you and your lover had made together. It was as if you had altered fate’s plan somehow, shunning your intended path and forging one of your own making. What future had you created? Did you have the guile to craft the right course? You held his hand, his fingers laced between yours, and whichever way you went, you hoped that he would be braving it with you.

[fallingdownhell]

hi, how have you been lately? if you don't mind i have a request to make!

okay, so, for context: i have been feeling sad for no reason these past few days and it pathetically got worse last night when i had a dream about the genshin characters not having time to spend with me because every single one of them was "busy". but it felt more like they were all avoiding me on purpose and i felt as left out and invisible as i used to in high school.

now, onto the request, if i may: in which a fem!reader feels left out, lonely and neglected, but tries to push the feelings down not to seem pushy or like an annoying attention-seeker because her s/o hasn't been spending any time with her/seems to be avoiding her. i'd like kazuha, venti and heizou to be written, please (+you can include more characters, if you want)!

feel free to ignore if this is too complicated or if you don't feel like writing it!!

i hope you have a good day/night!

I think I know exactly how you feel, it really sucks. I hope you're feeling better soon!

Also, I'm sorry if Venti's part isn't the best, I'm still figuring out how to write him best.

Characters Included: Kazuha; Heizou; Venti

Content: female reader; slight angst; hurt/comfort; maybe slight ooc characters; mentions of insecurities; use of petnames

Word count: 3,6k words

Enjoy!

Kazuha

You sighed again, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last hour. A quick glance to the clock on the wall told you that it was 8 PM right now.

Kazuha, your boyfriend, was currently out with his friends again. He has been doing that a lot since he returned to Inazuma with Captain Beidou.

At first, you didn't mind him meeting up and spending time with his old friends. But as days and weeks passed by, what was once a once-a-week thing became more regular, now he was meeting up with them every other day.

And it's not like you weren't happy for him, but it just started to feel like he was avoiding you, almost.

The time you got to spend with him got less and less over that time, he almost never came over to your place anymore, and if he did, he always talked about the fun stuff he did with his friends. Yet, he never once had invited you to come along, further confirming your suspicion that he just didn't want to spend time with you anymore.

You tried focusing back on the book in your lap, but your attention always shifted back to the clock, watching it as the minutes passed by.

He had promised you to return around 9 PM, so there still was time for you to relax and do some other stuff. Yet your mind just wasn't able to relax. You kept thinking about the same things every time you tried to lay down or do something.

Was he.. getting tired of you?

Did he not love you anymore?

Is that why he spends so much time away from you?

All those thoughts keep swarming your head every waking second. And you had kept all of that to yourself, in fear of sounding like an attention seeker. You didn't want to corner Kazuha with your feelings, knowing that he values his freedom above anything else.

So, you kept it in, talking to not a single soul about how you were feeling left out and neglected by your very own boyfriend.

But, as it is, one can only hold onto such feelings within themselves for a certain period of time. Those feelings are bound to come out sooner or later, you can't just always keep them inside like nothing is going on.

And as your mind kept thinking about this stuff, you became all to aware of that simple fact as you felt the tears start to form in your eyes.

Unable to keep them inside for much longer, you stopped trying to supress your feelings, allowing yourself, for one time, to just let it happen and cry all of your hurt and anguish out. Maybe that will help you feel at least a little bit better...

So, you didn't fight the tears that were now escaping. Rather, you let it happen. It felt like an eternity, the tears kept coming and coming, it was like there was no stopping them anymore. The gates were finally opened so the opportunity was used to get everything out.

You hadn't realised how much time has passed, but when you suddenly heard the front door open, accompanied by a yell of your name from Kazuha's voice, you knew that it was too late.

You tried to run some damage control, aggressively wipping the sleeve of your hoodie against your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to try and calm your erratic breathing down. You clear your throat, hoping that your voice wouldn't sound shaky when speaking.

"Darling?", Kazuha asked again, his footsteps now resonating through the place, trying to find your whereabouts. It was already odd enough to him that you didn't answer him immediately.

"I'm.. here!", you yell out, yet your voice has a high pitch to it, you notice. He knows, as well as you do, that your voice only gets like that when you had been crying.

And sure enough, not only seconds later, he enters the living room, a look of worry immediately seen on his face as soon as he confirms to himself that you had, indeed, cried.

"Darling, what's wrong?", he asked as he rushed to your side, putting an arm around your shoulder as he sat down next to you, pulling you into his side.

You debate with yourself, not sure if you should tell him what has been going through your head lately. But in the end, the fear of rejection was too big, so you decided against honesty.

"It's nothing.. really, just.. my book was a bit sad..", you decided to say, hoping it would convince him. But you weren't sure, since you weren't a good liar and Kazuha was just too good at looking right through you.

"Darling, not to be rude, but this is a comedy novella you have there."

He said that in a serious, yet kind tone. You averted your eyes upon being spotted in your lie, but before long, he gently took your chin into his hand, making you look at him, yet not forcing you to do so.

"(Name).. tell me the truth, please?"

The look in his eyes.. you could only decribe it as absolute honesty and love. It made you hope that maybe, the world wouldn't crash down upon you if you were to tell him your honest feelings.

"Promise you won't be mad at me?", you say with a meek voice.

"I promise.", he responds, softly smiling down at you, trying to reassure you with it. And it worked.. at least a bit.

"It's just.. I don't know how to best say this, but I've been feeling.. a bit neglected lately. You always go out with your friends. And not that I don't like that, I'm happy for you that you're able to do that again.

But.. it feels like you're never with me anymore. And when you are, I get the impression that you would rather be anywhere else but with me. I don't know how else to explain this, Kazuha, but it's eating me alive.

Do you.. still love me?"

Even though throughout your entire explanaition you had sounded so desperate, this last statement from you was almost.. pityful. Tears started to form again as you were looking at him, and it broke Kazuha's heart.

He had no idea you had been feeling this way. Had you only told him sooner, he would have done everything within his power to rid you of these doubts and thoughts.

But for now, he gently took your face into his hands, holding you while some tears started to escape you again. You held his gaze while waiting for his response.

"First, let me apologize to you, my love. I had no idea such thoughts have been plaguing your mind. I am deeply sorry for causing all of this.

And of course, I love you. I love you like the first day I laid eyes on you and fell for you. My feelings have only grown stronger over time, yet never once did they falter.

I deeply enjoy every second I spend with you, wether it be awake or asleep with you in my arms. Please, never doubt that. And if you do, promise me to come to me right away so I can get rid of those thoughts for you."

With every word leaving his lips, you felt a great relief. Like a huge weight has finally been lifted off your shoulder and you can breath again.

You lean into him as he does the same, your foreheads resting against each other. Your eyes were closed, enjoying the contact, but there was a smile smile present on your lips again. Kazuha adored seeing you like this. In his eyes, you were always beautiful, but when you were smiling.. you were ethereal to him.

"So, what do you say we go to bed for the day? I want to hold you close to me, show you all of my love.", he said, tone still soft and gentle as he brushed through your hair.

You simply nodded, not trusting your voice right now. But you were glad you finally got to talk to Kazuha..

Heizou

You knew his job as a detective was a busy and demanding one. It required him to always be on-call for when he was needed. Sometimes, one single investigation could last for weeks, which could also require him to travel for quite some time as well.

But Heizou has always made it a point to give you his time. As he said it, he didn't want this relationship to suffer from his chosen profession.

So why was it, that lately, you never really got to see him again. Every day, you woke up to an empty space next to you on the bed. The mattress cold, indicating that he either left a long time ago or hadn't returned at all that night. Which wouldn't be surprising to you at this point.

Most of the time, you saw him running around all over Inazuma, chasing one case after the other. When he did get home, he didn't really give you any attention.

No, he actually brought even more work with him. He would stay awake most of the night, reading over documents and files. You basically had to force him to eat sometimes, since he would forget to do so, even when your dinner was sitting right next to him on the table.

It disheartened you, but not wanting to come across as pushy, you swallowed your pride down and endured it. You said nothing... for weeks this behaviour of his continued on and you just kept quiet.

There was one point when you broke down a little bit, going to him and asking him to join you in bed, so that you could cuddle. He didn't look up from his files, but mumbled a simple 'Sure, I'll be there in a second'.

You didn't believe him, but you wanted to so desperately. So you went into the bedroom, waiting for him. You waited for a few hours but he didn't come. Eventually, you gave up and just went to sleep, but you felt defeated ever since that incident.

You didn't think that he loved you anymore..

Maybe he got tired of you already and that is why he was drowning himself in his work, so that he didn't have to spend time with you. But then, why didn't he just simply break up with you?

It would make things so much easier for him, and you could finally get over the heartbreak..

You mused over those thoughts as you were once again laying in bed, all alone. Heizou hadn't returned home today.. again. He was probably pulling another all-nighter at the headquarters again.

And suddenly, in the next second, you decided that you couldn't and didn't want to live like that anymore. Sure, you loved Heizou with your entire heart, but if he didn't love you back, there was no reason to hold him in this relationship.. right?

...

...

Heizou stretched his tired body, yawning. He was exhausted from yet another night of nonstop working, but at least, it finally paid off.

He stood up from his designated desk, walking over to Kujo Sara to hand her the last remaining files he had to fill out.

"Finally done?", she asked, a pityful look in her eyes.

"Yes. It was exhausting, but worth it in the end. I can't wait to surprise (Name) with this!", he beamed at the thought of finally laying in your arms again. He had missed it so very much during this busy time, but nothing was going to stop him from enjoying himself the next few weeks.

Sara nodded as she took the files from him, quickly glancing over them. "Alright, then head out already. And don't you dare come back before your vacation is over."

"Yes, boss!", he said with a wink, already on his way out. The entire way to his home, his smile got bigger and bigger thinking about you. He had worked his ass off, but he finally got a few weeks of vacation and he had already so muched planned for the both of you.

A few days visiting Watatsumi Island, maybe a ride with Kazuha over to Liyue to visit a different nation like you always wanted to do. But before all of that, he wanted just a few days with only you, not leaving his bed at all, just embrased in your arms.

His good mood continued on until he got home. As soon as he walked through the front door, his smile dropped upon seeing you standing in the hallway, a bag on your shoulders.

"I thought you would come back later..", you mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

"What's the meaning of this?", Heizou asked, having already a sneaking suspicion but he didn't want that to be true. This couldn't be happening right now..

"Look, I'm just trying to make this easier for the both of us. You obviously have other, more important things to focus on, a relationship is only hindering you. So, I'm doing what's best for the both of us and leave. This way, I maybe won't have to feel this alone again.."

Hearing that, Heizou suddenly had a pretty late revelation. Sure, in his head, working more so that he could get the vacation made sense to him. Yet he never thought about telling you, since he wanted it to be a surprise. And only now did he realize how much he had neglected you..he hasn't payed you any attention at all during this time.

Oh, what a big fucking mistake he had made...

"No.. please (Name). Let's sit down and talk about this. I promise there's a very good explanation. It's not an excuse, I know that, but.. please listen to me."

While speaking, he had grabbed one of your hands, holding onto it for dear life, afraid of letting you go. It felt like you would just dissapear in front of his very own eyes if he were to do that.

You thought about it for a while, but in the end decided to hear him out.

You decided to move to the kitchen table, sitting across each other, but Heizou was still holding your hand. He kept staring at your hand in his, focused on the picture that he forgot he was supposed to be talking.

He tried gathering his thoughts, thinking about how to best explain everything to you.

"Look.. I know I've had very little time for you those last weeks, and there's absolutely no excuse for that. I'm so sorry about that, (Name). But, there was really a reason behind it... why I took on so much work.

Starting today, I've got three weeks of vacation. That's why I've been working my ass off all this time. My dumb brain thought it would be a good idea to surprise you with that, but I now realize that I should have just told you. In the end, I caused you so much pain by not telling you.

And let me tell you one more thing... nothing is as important to me, as you are. I love you, (Name). You are my number one, now and always. I don't want that to ever change. So please.. don't leave. I'm so sorry.."

By the end of his little speech, both of you were crying. Hearing him explain his side made you feel so much relief.

He didn't fall out of love.. he still loved you..

Standing up, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. He returned it, holding you against him like he was afraid of losing you. Like you would slip right through his fingers if he didn't pay attention.

"You idiot..", you spoke against him, your voice coming out muffled but he still understood what you were saying.

A small, weak laugh left his mouth as he pulled back, looking you in the eyes.

"But I'm your idiot, right?"

"...Yes."

Venti

Having a relationship with a personality like Venti's was not always an easy task. He was secretive yet also very open. He loved to talk to people, yet he seldom spoke about himself.

Even to you, who knew about his true identity, it seemed like he was never fully honest with you. Like there were always some little, but very important details he just left out. Wether it was for your benefit or his own, you couldn't tell.

But you still trusted him. He was still your boyfriend, after all. Those types of relationships don't work out if there wasn't a certain level of trust between those two individuals.

And yet, you just couldn't shake that feeling of distance you always felt when around him. Sure, you enjoyed the time you spent together, but it never felt enough. And with that feeling of distance to him came along a certain feeling of loneliness.

Even though you spend almost every waking minute together, you always thought there was some sort of a gap between the two of you.

You ignored those feelings for the longest time, not wanting to scare him even further away from you. Or, worse, coming across as too needy to him. But you deeply missed that feeling of closeness to a person when in a relationship. But you also knew that this was by far not just any ordinary relationship you had going on..

Still.. was it really too much to ask of him? Was that just his normal self and he didn't realize this? Or was there an ulterior motive behind his actions?

You thought about all the possibilities almost on a daily basis now, even when together with him. You tried analyzing his actions and behaviour to try and figure him out.

Venti noticed this, of course. But he honestly didn't think too much of it. In fact, he rather enjoyed the undivided attention he was getting from you without having to ask for it.

The thing is, even though he is an outgoing person, he gets a little bit shy when it comes to asking for things from you that he desired. It could be the most simplest thing in this world and he would still have some trouble forming the words in his mouth. So he often just dropped subtle hints, leaving you to figure it out and make it look like it was your idea in the first place.

He had no idea what this kind of behaviour was doing to your mind, but he would soon find out..

As it was, you were at your wits end. You couldn't just deal with this in silence anymore. Even at the risk of scaring him away, you had to talk about it with him, or you would risk the end of this relationship.

You just needed to figure out how to best start this conversation...

"Hey, is something the matter? You seem to be lost in thought, more so than usual."

Seems like the universe showed some mercy to you as Venti asked you this. You turned to face him.

You were both currently sitting ontop of a tree, high up in the branches, your feet dangling in the air.

"Actually, yes.", you say, your tone serious as well as your expression. There was no smile on your lips like Venti saw it every other day, so he knew that this was indeed about something big.

He turned his body more in your direction, facing you now as well. A small smile still on his lips, trying to uphold his cheerful persona as he gestured for you to speak, that you were having his full attention.

"Venti.. what exactly are we.. in your eyes?

Because, it feels like we're drifting apart. You never really talk to me, not about anything important or related to you. You always hold me at arms length and I honestly can't do this any longer. I feel like you don't really want me in your life sometimes."

During your little speech, you had averted your eyes to look at your hands placed in your lap. Now that you were finished, you took a few deep breath in before raising your head again, looking at him.

What you saw surprised you. A look of shock and disbelief was written all over his face. Like he couldn't belief that you had been feeling this way at all.

"(Name).. I had no idea that this was so important to you..", he mumbled, thinking about what to do next..

Then, he jumped off the branch, his fake anemo vision lighting up as he was no floating in the air in front of you. He came closer to you, gently taking your face into his hands.

"I'm sorry I made you feel this way. I promise this was not my intention, at all. I am still figuring things out with you, many things are new to me, but I want it to work out.

So please, forgive me. I promise to do better from now on. I don't want you to ever feel this way again, my beautiful princess."

Then, he placed a soft kiss to your temple, making you blush and giggle a bit. He smiled upon hearing you cheer up again.

This is what he wanted you to feel like. Loved and cared for.

And he would do everything in his power to assure that from now on, he would never cause you to frown ever again..

[reveluving]

red lipstick ; adam driver characters headcanons

summary: because what’s sexier than seeing you in red lipstick? 💄

warnings: fluff, humour, slightly explicit (minors DNI!)

a/n: on an ADCU spree so I figured it’s the best time to write my own, courtesy of @safarigirlsp​ & @in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather​ for continuously feeding my obsession hehe! pls pls pls give their work some extra love!! and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» check out my full m.list!

✧･ﾟ Jacques Le Gris

Le Gris' own presence exudes confidence, ferocity, and allure, and his lady is no different. What better way to show the men who envy him the same way the ladies do with you than by bringing you the best of the best? He will settle for nothing less, especially when it comes to your comfort and the like, and he will know if they're not up to par.

Old-timey Jacques will indirectly criticize the maiden in charge, knowing they probably did so to make you seem 'less appealing' to your very own lover, but many seem to forget that he was extremely smart just as he was your doting husband. Just a quick exile over here, a simple repeat of his demand for the best over there and boom, he's back to being happy ol' Le Gris. Modern Jacques is no different, for he would easily purchase the shades you'd swatch and hum to yourself, knowing if he heard how much you liked it, he'd buy the whole store for you. Do you want them personalised, too? Go right on ahead!

And that's not a threat, it's a promise.

“You should never settle for anything less, ma chérie. I shall not allow it.” He’d chime in as soon as he sees your eyes sparkle at the new case with both wonderment and guilt. If you offer to repay him for his endless gifts, he will ask for your kisses, complete with the new set he’s given you, but ever the lover boy that he is, you know good and well it won’t end with just kisses.

✧･ﾟ Flip Zimmerman

Ever heard of the saying "the fortune favours the bold"? He doesn't need to hear from Stallworth that Flip has in fact 'loosen up' upon being graced by your existence. He does, however, preen in the knowledge that since knowing you, he's become bold. Well, bolder than he already was. Where has uncertainty brought him in life? But as much as he'd like to deny till the end of time, he's nearly done it before.

Keyword: nearly.

The day you met, he wondered if he had died in a shootout and met hell's personal It girl—no angel could pull off the devil's shade with pride the way you do. Had he continued to mask his hesitancy by returning your undeterred gaze, he'd be the biggest fool for letting you go.

He'd clock in work with your lipstick stains if he could. Public indecency be damned! He'd fight everyone and anyone if he hears another person talk about it as a form of embarrassment.

"S'not my fault you don't have a pretty girl to come home to." He'd shrug, though the wolfish smile told the poor bastard everything that he felt. Was he wrong? No. Was he going to fight Flip for publicly embarrassing him with the truth? Absolutely not; your husband would probably knock him out before the guy could even land a hit.

✧･ﾟ Clyde Logan

To think there were more red lipstick shades than he could count with his good hand. In all honesty, he really doesn't have a favourite nor does it matter if it's even red or not. That's not to say he doesn't care because clearly, he does, but only in the sense that it makes you happy. You are the professional in this particular field, after all. But best believe the happiness that heightens in him whenever you'd ask for his opinion.

Still, the colour red does, however, as the current generation says, 'hits different'. Unsubtle glances from his patrons were a normal occurrence but they never got any easier by the day. But, on the other hand? He’s the lucky son of a gun who gets to call you ‘his’.

But the man loves his kisses, and kisses he will get! With your frequent visits to the bar, you'll never let this man work without at least a peck on the cheek. Seeing his signature pout lift to the bashful smile we know and love (the audacity) takes no effort.

“Y’know just how to make a man happy, sugar.” He’d murmured against your lips, his sudden boldness not surprising you but instead, his customers, who were only giving him shit but also openly ogling at you not too long ago.

✧･ﾟ Kylo Ren

Whether you think of our ol’ touch-starved leader, the vampire, the knight, or whatever suits your fancy, Kylo will want nothing more than the top-notch of things for his darling, and your preference for lipstick shouldn’t be any different! He, in a way, is an embodiment of red—his passion for both his belief, his interest, and especially, his devotion to you. So, to see the very same colour he associates closely with, other than black, be embraced as your very own as well? He shouldn’t be surprised that most, if not all of his elation are sourced from you in general.

He’s a busy man, but he will not miss the opportunity to watch you apply your colour of the day with great care. He’s unconsciously smiling, lost in your melodic hum as his vow to keep you out of harm’s way grows stronger. He’s been through hell and back to survive, and he’d have no problem doing the same it’s to ensure you leave the danger zone unscathed. So, if something as simple as red lipstick makes you happy, then don’t be surprised if you see a new one even before your current one runs out.

And although all kisses are good kisses, don’t think he won’t pull you in for a real one once the smooching fest starts. You’re worried about leaving a stain? Don’t be! His men/subordinates don’t have the balls to point them out, knowing by doing so is a game over for them.

✧･ﾟ Charlie Barber

The man eats, sleeps, and breathes art, so it's knowing his beloved has her very own is a major plus! One would think nothing impresses him anymore, or at least, not as much as his own work, but oh, were they dead wrong. There hasn't been a day where the lipstick holder on your vanity table never makes him puff out his chest with pride. From the simple matte ones he'd buy after a random day at work simply because it reminds him of you, to the high-end bold to burgundy ones personalised with your name engraved on the case. C’mon, what harm would it do to him for paying a couple of hundreds for makeup as one of his ways to say thank you to his wife—his muse!

Charlie embraces this as your form of art; the shades, the textures, the right amount of shine or shimmer—just anything that screams you. Artistry performed best by his one and only.

And how could he forget about the polaroids you both have? Yours which has him covered in your lipstick stains and face in absolute bliss? His which were you kissing the area close to his happy trail, leaving the same shade colour to his toned body?

Yes, your husband's in paradise, indeed.

✧･ﾟ Commander Mills

Another hunk who really just finds your confidence in whichever you find is best is more than enough, because what's better than his girl's own joy? Even so, if red really speaks to you, then don't be surprised he takes advantage of it. If the numerous times you've caught him staring at your lips and even shamelessly holding your gaze doesn't tell you anything, then the instance he wraps his arms around you for a little while longer before pressing his lips onto yours definitely should.

And if we're talking about the whole time-travelling shebang and somehow, you had to make your own lipstick? Wowie. This man will scour every nook and cranny for the ingredients if you asked him to. Best believe he will find what you need!

If it means getting the opportunity to see you do your thing in your colour and being able to wipe off the accidental smear just after you've applied it, that man is on a mission.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

You can tell that I lost my roll towards the end HAHAHA but if you’re wondering what lipstick in particular inspired me to write this, it’s:

ETUDE Fixing Tint in Analog Rose/Vintage Red

Dior Rouge Dior Lipstick in 999

Stunna Lip Paint Longwear Fluid Lip Color in Uncensored

PERIPERA Ink Airy Velvet in Full Red Brick (11)

[missmarveledsblog]

I Think I love you a little bit more everyday ( Steve Harrington x Reader)

summary : being in love is never easy and it most definitely not easy when the person you love is one of you best friends .

warning : steve is an insecure boy , angst and fluffy

Steve harrington was known for many things , the great head of hair on his head, most popular guy in hawking high for a long period of time , many jobs he had despite his family being rich . He was also widely known for his failed love life , from nancy and his up and down romance to all the failed dates afterwards . Another thing that was well known was when she was a round steve puppy dog brown eye would light up and follow her around  or an inkling of trouble and he was ready to come to her rescue not that she needed it given she was one of the kids from the lab one that help eleven escape after something so horrible nether spoke about it . when those two showed up it was like a nuclear bomb went off exposing so many things. One of those things that most people of hawkings forgot was chief hoppers first fleeting marriage and his first daughter , back when he was young cop he and claudia henderson’s sister maggie had one night stand that would lead to a pregnancy and marriage to do the right thing, then one night when the girl was four years old  maggie took off and sent papers of divorce . What Hopper didn’t know was the girl's ability or the lab approaching the mother paying her a large sum of money . For years and years even before she returned he never stopped even though mentally he was done , he’d never stop looking  .  in all that time she was so close and yet so so far away it wasn’t til he noticed the birthmark on her arm  and a  under wraps blood test to find out who the  now almost young woman was . unlike eleven she was able to be out in public the towns people talked for long time but soon with everything else it became old news. 

The odd nature of it all skipped over but for steve harrington it was more skipping from a crush to full blown feelings . Everytime he tried pulling his mind to something else she would be around and everything would flood back , convince he was undesiring of love or convinced that he was cursed and destined to never get the girl some form of karma for his stupid asshole behaviour . so it was safe to say he was afraid to get that close to her in a way where he could get hurt even thought realistically  this was killing him . 

Even though many times their lives had been put in situation were if a love confession should arise it would be now on the tip of his tongue but he chose to ignore it  a decision he nearly regretted when he say eddie carrying her weakly while dustin henderson was chewing him out for being an idiot for not sticking to the plan  mainly because he was scared , because he watching people he loved being taking  from his life . steve heart fell into his stomach , the blood in his veins cold looking at the lifeless limp pale body in his arms  rushing to their side all at once asking what happened what was wrong . all bickering til the reached the byer place one where they all spent many of times at not wanting to leave her side as she lay , least the colour was starting to come back into her cheeks and he did turn so nancy and robin could clean the blood and fresh clothes on her. Then when it was last straw , it was end battle one of good and evil wayne munson promised to the stay by her side . when it felt like everything was hitting the wall , when it felt like a loss was on the brink the bright headlight of a pick up truck and added effect of metallica blasting through the  speaker like some knights on four wheeled beat up stallion . 

“ As metal as this is what the hell your suppose to be watching over her” eddie hissed although slightly impressed at the entrance he couldn’t lie .  

“ she was going to go whether i let her or not so i got her here safely … shit kid i was kinda hoping this wasn’t actually real “ wayne’s eyes looking at monstrous creatures . 

“ can you use one of these” hopper asked holding the shot gun like nothing  . 

“ yes sir .. legal hunting “ he was made sure to clarify . 

“ i don’t care just aim and shoot  these fuckers legalities don’t come into play here” dustin yelled as  y/n stood out of truck eyes locked on the enemy before turning to see steve both happy she was up and pissed she was there something she could ask about once it was over .  hand in hand they stood watching her and eleven get the better hand holding Venca in the air almost tearing him apart . the anticipation and fear all over everyone's faces.   Like a sick joke the two thrown apart the cruel laugh that spilled from its grotesque mouth as their friend watched trying to get to the girls  then when the beast turn his sights on the people they loved it was like every life lost due to this creatures being channeling through giving them the strength to rip him apart and this time for good . that should of been that moment for steve but again he missed it by just hugging her so tightly til hopper had to clear his throat all in the midst of it all the feelings of it finally being over , the seemly curse of hawkings finally broken as eddie munson screamed his victorious yell and few obscenities that prompted wayne to slap him back of his head . 

“ ladie present” he’d gruffed . 

“ shit sorry … shit “ the boy cursed . 

A year after that day , the town of hawkings rebuilding people still coming in droves to the so called cursed town as it and the people in it are some sort of spectacle .  oddly at first it help getting so much aid but it came with a price  , media circus and droves of people coming to town . steve stood in family video because of course  that could be rebuilt fast not that he could complain and in hindsight his parent stayed longer this time before heading off again . something else that linger in the air , tension of a sort with him and y/n. He tried once more burying the feeling deep down  which seemed harder to do every time he would try close his eyes he could see her lifeless in eddies arms or thrown by Vecna  to point he was losing sleep  , ignoring robin and co pleading with him just to talk to her which he would if it wasn’t for kyle , he first came to help the town wit others and seemly took an interest in y/n and before steve knew it he was watching yet another girl he was in love with in the hands of another like a knife constantly plunged into his heart and it was his own fault or was it just future proof of his own curse.  Yet it did nothing to quell the feeling the weeks almost months of distance did nothing to stop the strong coursing feelings that building up and up he felt it was going to rip him apart . everything he face nothing scared him more than this  , no matter what fear he had  he needed to tell her maybe if he got it all of his chest he could move on , closer in it own bitter way . flowers in hand and man on a mission he drove like bat out of hell not caring if he blew a red light of if the cops would try pull him over because in this very moment nothing was more important than freeing himself of all this . he needed a release from  it and he needed to do it now , right now . pulling the car to a stop and walking to the door muttering to himself , psyching himself up . 

“ rip the band aid off look she gonna reject you , you might have to fight kyle but we need to do this “ he muttering unaware of eddie and wayne sitting on their porch ready to witness  it all . pumping himself up and knocking at the door watching it fly open  and her voice filled with surprise of course it was he actively avoided her for months because he couldn’t fess up or bare the thought of her with another man . 

“ look no talking , listening yet shitty of me to say so but i need to get this out because if i don’t i will throw up and make this a hundred times worse , i know i have been a dickhead… “ 

“ putting it lightly “ 

“ ok deserved that but look hush … i couldn’t be around you it was killing me … i mean not you but you and kyle it was killing me watching another doing what i should be doing but i know would never happen because let face it henderson and the rest of shitheads will get married before i can find a girl that doesn’t leave me for someone else and that in itself is why i’m afraid .. was ..no actually still scared to tell you i’ve been in love with you since i met you , every time i try think of way tell you end of the world happens or that voice in my head tells me to shut up because you one of my best friends and now i need to tell you get some closure and also be made at you for almost dying twice  and even then my coward ass couldn’t tell you i think i love you a little more every day and it killing me , i can’t eat or sleep because it’s tearing me apart holding on and i know ….”  his whole body seized up at the feeling of her lips and his , the fact of her lips on his sending him into a short circuit and that fear melting away  , what felt like ice that was thawing away a warmth was coming into his body for first time .  pulling her close even if kyle was there and  not that he care he pulled her closer almost like  their bodies were welding together in iron clasp hold . suddenly the alarms in his brain ringing off she felt the same, she feels the same . as much as he didn’t wanted to pull away he needed to breathe and he was pretty sure the nerves of it all still had him ready to throw up still . 

“ kyle? “ he gasped .

“ we broke up couple months ago “ 

“ why didn’t you tell me ?” 

“ because you kept avoiding me “ she glared still feeling pissed at him. 

“ why didn’t anyone else tell me ?” he asked .

“ BECAUSE YOU NEVER LISTEN BIG BOY “ eddie yelling making him aware of the audience . 

“I wanna hit you for ignoring and avoiding me “ she glared. “ but i also want you to kiss me again ,  you idiot i’ve been in love with you since we met too “ her face softened. 

“ what if you find someone better” that broken vulnerable voice spilling from his lips made her own heart clench . 

“ there is no one better than you steve , in my eyes your the best of the best, everyone knew it  i was like a little school girl all heart eyes at you that when you dated i was secretly wishing they sucked and you would like me back honestly i owe buckley and all of friends therapy for all times i’ve pretty much blabbed about how much i’ve been and still am in love with you “ all her own pent up feelings finally breaking like a dam  gushing out of her mouth before she could even think to stop them . 

“ so this whole time “ 

“ you both been dumber than a box of rocks  … yeah “ eddie called. 

“ maybe we should take this inside “ she laughed as both their faces flushed . 

“ and make up for lost time i’m way ahead of you sweetheart “ he chuckled lifting her up and rushing in, the voice in the back of his head was telling him this was going to hurt but the voice in his heart told him he was going to be ok because this time he got the girl who was going to want him and only him .

[babygirl-diaz]

I have an ABO thought and you're the only one I feel not embarrassed to share it with so:

I was talking with my family about how hard it is for some parents to watch their baby be in pain when getting shots at the doctors so I thought of Alpha Buck holding his and his Omega's (Eddie or Tommy cuz I see you like bucktommy) new pup and him trying not to growl and bare his teeth at the nice nurse while they administer the shot.

Just him being on the verge of tears when hearing his pup cry, scenting their pup and doing a rumbley Alpha purr to try and soothe them when it's over and he's just so distraught.

Meanwhile his Omega is just amused at his behavior like "Babe, from the way you're acting you'd think they just chopped our pup's leg off". Buck cries every time they go to get their pups shots lol and then cuddles with them in the nest for a long time after.

I love this so much that I ended up writing it as a fic! Also, it makes me so happy that you feel comfortable sharing this with me!!! Never feel embarrassed about liking something, my friend!!!

***

"Baby, you okay?" Eddie asked putting a hand on Buck's thigh.

It was then that Buck realized he was shaking his leg and biting his nails. Buck immediately stopped and cleared his throat. "Y- yeah, I'm good."

Eddie smiled, took Buck's hand in his, and kissed his knuckles. "I know you're nervous, but don't be. Lily will be fine."

Buck let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and looked at their peacefully asleep 2-month-old in her stroller.

"Are the shots gonna hurt her?" Buck asked innocently.

Eddie leaned his head on Buck's shoulder and kept holding his hand. "They probably will, but we'll be right there with her."

"I can't see her in pain, Eddie," Buck pouted.

"Yeah, I know," Eddie sighed. "Neither can I. But the shots are important."

"I know," Buck sighed as well and put his head down on Eddie's.

"Lily Buckley-Diaz."

Buck looked up when he heard Lily's name and got up. "We're here," he said. He took Eddie's hand and pushed the stroller with his other hand as he followed the nurse.

"I am Ashley. I will administer your pup's shots today," the nurse told them.

"Nice to meet you, Ashley," Eddie offered her a smile. "My alpha over here is nervous about Lily getting the shots."

Ashley smiled in return as she put on her gloves. "Oh, that's perfectly normal," she told them. "Mr. Buckley-Diaz, if you want, you can hold your pup while I give her the shots," she said to Buck.

"It's Buck, and thank you," Buck replied and picked up Lily from her stroller, who was waking up.

Lily's bottom lip quivered and Buck immediately knew what would come next. He immediately took her in the crook of his arm and rocked her. "It's okay, sweetie," he cooed to her. "All of this will be over soon, I promise." He sat down with Lily and Eddie took a seat beside him.

Ashley cooed at Lily before giving her the first shot. Lily let out a loud scream and Buck immediately bared his teeth at Ashley and flashed his golden eyes.

"Whoa!" Ashley immediately took a step back and put her hands up.

"Buck." Buck felt a hand on his arm. "Baby, it's okay," Eddie tried calming him down. "Ashley wasn't trying to hurt Lily. Lily just needs her shots, remember?" He gently rubbed Buck's arm and Buck started to calm down.

Once he was fully calm, he apologized to Ashley, "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have lost control."

"It's okay," Ashley replied and went back to smiling. "I've seen worse reactions from alphas."

Ashley gave Lily another shot who screamed and cried again.

Buck's heart hurt and he felt like crying too. He gently rocked Lily in his arms and tried to soothe her by bringing her close to his chest and scenting her. He kissed her forehead as she continued to cry and let out a low purr from his throat. "It's okay, Lily. Dada's got you," he told her and couldn't help the tears that formed in his eyes.

"Just one more, I promise," Ashley told him.

The whole time, Eddie kept rubbing Buck's arm to help him stay grounded.

Lily kept crying and Buck felt like running away with her, not letting her get her third shot.

"Okay, last one," Ashley announced before injecting the shot into Lily's thigh once again.

Lily let out another scream and Buck brought her to his chest and cried with her as he tried to calm her down.

"Baby, do you want me to take her?" Eddie offered.

"No!" Buck said through his tears.

"I am so sorry," Ashley apologized. "I promise I didn't mean to hurt Lily."

"Oh, don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault," Eddie assured her, although Buck wanted to protest.

Buck refused to put Lily in her stroller once they left the hospital. He carried her in his arms and soothed her with his scent, but it didn't seem to help.

When they got to the car, Buck gave the keys to Eddie. "I'm gonna sit with her in the back," he told him and buckled a crying Lily in her seat. He then got in beside her.

Buck cooed to her and softly sang to her with her favorite teddy bear but nothing worked. He saw Eddie giving him an amused look through the rearview mirror and frowned, "What?"

Eddie smirked and shook his head, "Nothing."

By the time they reached home, Lily had cried herself to sleep. Buck took her to his and Eddie's room instead of her nursery and gently put her down in their nest. He then got in beside her and just watched her with tears in his eyes.

The bed dipped and Buck found Eddie getting in as well. "Baby, the way you're acting, you would have thought that they chopped off our pup's leg or something."

Buck let out a low growl at that but Eddie remained unfazed. "Don't even joke about that."

"it's true though. She's fine, baby," Eddie assured him. "The shots are important and she's gonna need more of them in two months."

Buck frowned at that. "How are you so calm about it?"

The omega smiled and said, "I've already been through this with Chris and I know she's going to be fine," He reached out and took Buck's hand, kissing his knuckles.

"You promise?" Buck pouted.

"I do," Eddie replied and leaned over Lily and kissed Buck.

Buck kissed him back and pressed their foreheads together.

[aplaceinthedark]

prologue: JOURNEY to the OAKEN GROVE

Summary: The Appalachian Mountains hide numerous monsters, and it's up to Taylor and the Bad Omens to prevent them from causing any harm.

Word Count: 1,011

CW: supernatural themes, character death, off-screen carnage, mind control, male dominating a woman's will

This is RPF, and thus will contain real people, but names and events will be changed. If this bothers you too much, then please leave this temple without causing harm.

FEATURED CREATURES

@ladyveronikawrites @lilhobgobbler @deathblacksmoke @cookiesupplier @thatchickwiththecamera

Long ago, in ages past, all living things commanded infinite power and roamed unchecked across the land. They were as spirits and could speak and perform strong magic. Though in time, an evil had spread across the land, and it was decided that the world’s magic needed to be protected.

That’s what a lot of children in this part of the Shenandoah Valley was told, as part of some tales told by their Grannies. But not miss Elin Young. When she was a child, she was taught that those were selfish practices.

“Darkness only sought to make all creatures equal,” her granny told her, “and to share their power totally amongst all things…” But still, some creatures wanted to keep their strengths secret, and concealed their divinity, leaving the world lifeless and dull. Only the wise Watcher of the Woods remembered how the world had been, and could guide others to true Enlightenment.

Elin Young had done a lot of things most people would have been ashamed of in her past, but it had all been in the name of that such True Enlightenment, she told herself. She had sacrificed much in the journey, but she had remained strong. There was no way anything would stand in her way.

At least that’s what she tried to tell herself as she bled out into the cold, dark earth.

As that same ancient dirt beneath her leeched the warmth from her bones, she couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it in the end, if this was the end she was receiving. Lying on a bed of pine needles, her body torn asunder, was not what she envisioned. It was not what the Watcher of the Woods had promised her.

It had been exactly a year and a day since the disastrous summer solstice, when a new Vessel was supposed to be Hollowed and Imbued with the Black Stag’s might. Instead, the Towering Man had stolen that might and kept it for himself, selfishly hoarding it from her Family. Through that year and a day, Elin remained strong, her belief telling her that the Revered Father would return to reclaim his stolen crown.

But earlier this dark night, the Family had tried to summon the Black Stag and instead was met with the form of a beast: a pale, silver-furred Grim whose eyes danced with glee when he saw the meal that had assembled before him. The congregation tried to scatter and she knew that they were being picked off, judging by their screams.

Elin had escaped the Grim only to have a brush with the second of the horrors of the Shenandoah Valley. Luckily, the Drowned had been preoccupied with his own victims, lured to him by his siren song, and then torn apart by his teeth and claws. Elin had pressed on, certain that she would soon find her way out of the woods.

Finally, she had felt certain that she was near the edge of the woods, when she had run into a familiar face. “Nick! Oh my god, thank goodness I found–”

Elin had barely gotten those words out when she felt herself freeze, and before she turned around, she swore she could see Nick’s eyes glow green in his stony face. Against her will, she started moving back into the woods. In horror, she realized that Nicholas was as he trailed behind her, directing her further and further in, until they had reached the place where the old and twisted oak tree grew.

There she was forced to kneel down. She, however, was not forced to plead for mercy, but she did anyway. Her only warning of what was to come was the creaking of trees and the rustling of leaves as the tree… moved.

And one of the people she sacrificed in the name of True Enlightenment came face to face with her.

AFTER ALL YOU’VE DONE TO ME?

said the new Watcher of the Woods.

DID YOU ACTUALLY THINK THE PAIN YOU CAUSED ME WOULD SEND ME TO AN EARLY GRAVE? DID YOU ACTUALLY THINK I COULDN’T BREAK THOSE CHAINS AFTER ALL THE HELL YOU MADE ME OVERCOME?

And then the new Watcher shifted his face into something vaguely familiar, and the young woman wept from fear at last. In front of Elin stood the man she betrayed to the Revered Father, who two years ago she had coerced into the woods.

Elin bowed her head and cried, “Please forgive me! I never wanted to do those things! They made me do them! I still love you!” She was willing to say anything, even lie through her teeth, if it meant she could walk out of this alive.

And the Watcher knew this, because he laughed before saying, 

YOU WERE THE REASON I WAS CONSUMED BY THE DARK; THE REASON I WAS CONSUMED BY THE BLACK. I ALMOST LOST MYSELF IN ALL THE LIES YOU TOLD, BUT I’M BACK NOW, AND STRONGER THAN YOU’D THINK.

Noah Davis was a sweet boy when she first met him. His mother had just died, but he still had a spark in him. A spark that the Revered Father coveted, and would eventually claim. And maybe that’s why he was unrecognizable as he flung her around.

And now, as he leaned over her, she knew the humanity had really left him.

THERE’S A LOT OF HOLLOW SOULS OUT HERE IN THESE WOODS; A LOT WHO WOULD LOVE TO SEE YOU BURN. AND IF YOU DO SEE YOUR SO-CALLED “FATHER,” TELL HIM I’VE GOT A MESSAGE FOR HIM.

And he left her to die, there, alone.

Despite her faith, despite all that she sacrificed, she died unfulfilled. The only thing she held onto in her black heart was the hatred for the man who left her to die, who cheated her out of what she had been promised. She was glad that the Black Stag had taken his heart, for he could never know love again.

And if he did… well, nothing in these woods ever truly stayed dead.

tysm for reading! Next part coming soon!

[jess-fae]

Mermaid au part 2

Note; I finally got around to finishing the second part woohh, btw i am sorry for the weird spelling errors i will hopefully fix it this time

Summary; Hobie is a pirate captured by the British navy and one day Y/N a mermaid finds him

Trigger warning; thoughts of death, angst, violence, dont worry happy end i promise

✦ "I want you to kill me, I cannot live this life." you looked into his eyes once you would have felt such love but now you felt nothing, it hurt deeply

✦and even if you wouldn't turn into seafoam like your sisters, this would be the only way to end this tragedy humans called life

✦ so you looked hopeful into Hobie's eyes hoping he would understand, after all, in these shared moments you two had there had to be at least a few where he cared for you too, right

 ✦ yet as those words had fallen off your lips Hobies mouth fell dry, he cursed the captain and the lieutenant and whoever let them take away such a big part of yourself

 ✦ you pressed the dagger into his hand, which he swiftly pulled back shaking his head and refusing even to touch the weapon that he was supposed to take your life with

 ✦ you knew you were asking for much but you couldn't help but feel a little betrayed, as you looked over to the water you questioned what all the men felt like when you drowned them and if it would feel any different for you

 ✦ "A can't, it aint righ' dove" he whispered as his hand reached out for your own, noticing the lack of small scales and claws that could have ripped out his heart out at any moment

 ✦tears began to swell in your eyes again as you whispered to yourself "From the sea we are formed, to the sea we return." it was an old saying spoken after or before the death of a mermaid

 ✦even though Hobie could hear you speak, he didn't understand the meaning of what you were saying, but he guessed it couldn't be to good as you starred into the ocean with your eyes full of longing

 ✦as you dropped the dagger and stood up to get closer to the edge of the small boat, Hobie grabbed your wrist stopping you from jumping off

 ✦pulling you close just as a crew member walked along the deck, his voice turning into a whisper "am sure there is a way where ya don' have to die love"

 ✦you sat back down, watching him closely as he thought, that's when it hit him, around a year ago he had saved a witch from being burned alive by angry chr*stians

 ✦" 'lright, I migh' have an idea but we gotta get these chains of." before he knew it you were climbing up the ship again, only to return a few minutes later with a old pair of keys

 ✦ you threw them down to him and Hobie immediately tried them on his chains that were trying his legs to the boat

 ✦ back down with him, you saw that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, "Do you promise if this doesn't work that you will put me out of this misery?"

 ✦the smirk faded and Hobie choked on unsaid words but nodded, the witch had to help you, she had too...

...

 ✦days passed and for you, it seemed like you were just aimlessly swimming around, boredom had gotten the better out of you as you leaned over the edge and let your fingers dance around in the water

 ✦watching as hobie rowed the boat, his slim but yet strong arms flexing every so often

 ✦he made jokes but you couldn`t laugh, still wishing that this would all end soon

 ✦ your eyes went back to the ocean, missing every moment where the cold water used to hug you like a lover would have, now it would just feel like chains tying you down longing for your death

 ✦another day had passed and hobie had finally found the island he had been looking for, praying to whoever would hear him and listen

 ✦he guided the boat through the swamp-like waters, till he saw the small wooden shed

 ✦the two of you stood in front of the door, knocking swiftly waiting for the witch to open the door

 ✦when the door opened a rather young beautiful woman stepped into view, her face falling into a smile as she saw hobie

 ✦you studied her closer as she pulled you two inside, her locs were long and put in a high bun with many of them falling out, her face was filled with golden piercings, and her body was wrapped in a long green dress that reminded you of the kelp forest you loved to explore with your friend

 ✦you found out her name was Eissa, and she asked what she could help hobie with, while he was busy explaining the situation to her you found yourself stunned by her house

 ✦it was filled with different magical items and trinkets that could only be found on the bottom of the sea

 ✦"Is there any way you can make her a mermaid again?" Hobie finished and Eissa looked puzzled, she walked over to one of her many bookshelves and picked up a book skipping through the pages

 ✦you could see her eyes widen after some time, "Hobie may I speak to you in private?" he nodded and told you to stay here before kissing your forehead and leaving into the other room

 ✦"How much are you willing to do for her?"

 ✦"Anything"

 ✦Eissa swallowed before she turned the book towards him, showing him that for such a ritual you would be required to eat a human heart, but not such any, one that was willing to give it up for you

 ✦the room was thickly filled with silence, hobies hand went to his belt grabbing hold of the dagger you had pushed in his hand when you asked him for the impossiable

 ✦ he looked at it closely before handing it to Eissa, nodding at her

 ✦soon enough he sat down and took his final breaths of air, he had gotten her into this situation

 ✦Eissa returned to the room with you inside and gotten her pot out, gently putting hobies heart inside

 ✦"w-where is hobie?" you asked looking back at the door hoping for him to step out of it at any point

 ✦"He can't be here turning the ritual" a lie. but it would be a waste to tell you as things were already done

 ✦soon you laid on a desk as your legs were tied together, Eissa handed you the heart which was still hot from being soaked in the potion

 ✦"You will need to eat it..."

 ✦eating a heart wasn't to strange to you, but you never did it as a human could it be very different?

 ✦it was definitely harder to chew and it wasn't as enjoyable as it was before but you had gotten it down eventually

 ✦pain shot threw your legs are you watched them grow back together and into the beautiful tail it once was

 ✦emotions came rushing through you, hate, sadness and love. love for hobie

 ✦ so you asked again and Eissa finally told the truth, cutting through the rope with you claws you crawled your way to the other room

 ✦where in fact you saw hobies lifeless body, your arms wrapped around him repeatedly saying his name hoping for him to wake up

 ✦your cries turned into a melody, a melody that had wrapped itself around hobies body

 ✦Eissa watched as the blood from his stained shirt started to flow back into the wound, how the color started to paint his skin again and how his chest started to rise and fall again

 ✦hobies heart wasn't gone, it was very well still there beating... just not in his own body

 ✦his hand held a deathly tight grip on your arm as his eyes ripped open and came back to the undead

 ✦everyone's eyes widen at the sight, hobies hand rushed to his chest as he looked down to it not seeing a wound anymore

 ✦ unbeknown to you, you were singing a form of a healing melody used on fellow mermaids, and since his heart was within you it had healed him

 ✦ your arms wrapped around him again, hanging onto him with your full weight which was more than when you were human bringing him down to the floor

 ✦"ergh ehm, I rather not interrupt your little reunion but, Y/N can't be on land for to long or just dry in general before turning into a human again, till she is drenched again. but good news, if you are to become human you wont experience emotional loss like you did this time."

 ✦Eissa explained reading from her little book, hobie picked you up and carried you outside to place you in the water

 ✦you thanked the witch over and over again before hobie and you took off again

 ✦out on the open sea sunset wasn't away for to long and you jumped into the boat with him, letting your tail hang of the side of the boat

 ✦"You know i still need to thank you for what you did, hobie" you said leaning against his shoulder watching the sun go down

 ✦"oh do ya love?" his asked playfully, smirking down at you

 ✦"How about we get you a ship again?"

Note: argghhhh they're so cute!!! anyways that was part two i hope you guys liked it. I am planning to make a third part with more cuter shizzel and maybe smut...

[diazheartsbuckley]

High school sweethearts?

Hi Ashley! Long time no see, so glad that you’re back 💗

I made a moodboard and an introduction to the story here but I’m posting a snippet as well 👀

Buck’s eyes scanned the crowd, searching for a familiar face or rather - one particular familiar face - at his high school reunion. Life hadn’t been so easy for him back then but now when he had become a public figure, people that he had never spoken to, took a sudden interest in him. But there was only one face that he truly longed to see.

And that’s when he saw him. Eddie Diaz, the man that he had loved since he was 16. And hadn’t seen since he was 19. That was over a decade ago now.

The brown eyed man bore clear signs of aging, small lines starting to form around the corners of his eyes. Yet he hadn’t seem to have changed at all - a big, bright smile plastered on his face as he greeted old classmates and friends.

Buck discreetly slipped his fingers under his shirt, fingers seeking the silver chain that held the promise ring that Eddie gave him back in high school. It rested against his skin, concealed from view but stayed a constant reminder of the chapter of his life that had meant everything. Eddie had been his whole world for years.

Hesitant yet excited, he approached Eddie on unsteady feet and as soon as Eddie’s eyes turned to him, a wave of nostalgia washed over him, setting back time instantly.

“Eddie, is that really you?” He chuckled like he could ever forget the face of a man that he had loved for almost half of his life. Eddie turned to face him and somehow the world seemed to stop spinning, memories of shared laughter and secret glances clear as the summer sky.

“Buck?” Eddie’s voice held a hint of disbelief. The stark blue eyed man in front of him had aged amazingly, standing like the masterpiece that he was in front of him.

It took another moment for the two of them to share an embrace and a laugh of nervousness escaped Buck’s mouth.

“Wow you look-…”

“Older? Taller? More rugged?” Buck joked, unable to take the situation seriously. As much as he had longed to see Eddie again, it stung. Years had passed, years that Eddie promised that they would spend together and then never did.

“I was going to say good but sure, yeah, that too” Eddie returned the laugh, still able to read Buck’s voice and body language like an open book.

A bit painstakingly awkward, the two of them started to catch up and for a moment, everything seemed to be exactly like it was back then.

The love was never lost, it just wasn’t their time.

Until Eddie raised his hand to comb through his hair - something he did when he was feeling out of place - that Buck saw the wedding ring on Eddie’s finger.

“Married, huh?” He questioned, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips.

Eddie's expression shifted, a mix of emotions crossing his face. "Yeah, I met someone after college. Her name's Shannon, and we have a son called Christopher”

Buck nodded, trying to mask the disappointment that he felt. “That’s great, Eddie. I’m happy for you. Glad to see that you’re doing well” Buck’s words were laced with something that resembled a mix of sarcasm and sadness.

Just as the conversation settled into a slightly awkward silence, a woman approached, wrapping her arm around Eddie's waist. "Eddie, who's this?" she asked, glancing at Buck with a careful smile.

Eddie introduced them, "Shannon, this is Evan. He’s an old friend”

They were never just friends.

Ask me about my wips 💗

Using this as my Tease Tidbit Tuesday cause ya girl is a mess because of exams 😐

Tagged by @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 @athenagranted mwah mwah mwah 💋

Tagging!! @watchyourbuck @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @giddyupbuck @fionaswhvre @thewolvesof1998 @theotherbuckley @callmenewbie @cal-daisies-and-briars @honestlydarkprincess @butraura @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @disasterbuckdiaz 💗 🦋

[spookikookiboo]

Officer Dunn -FNAF Alternate Universe

@pudim-16-world asked " How does Dunn possess Glamrock Freddy in this AU?"

This was a really good question and one I wanted to tackle in semi-comic form. The version of events that lead to Officer Dunn possessing Glamrock Freddy are ones I have put my own twist on based loosely on the FNAF novel The Silver Eyes by Kira Breed-Wrisley and Scott Cawthon.

In my opinion Officer Dunn was a character that had a lot of potential and had an excellent base for true and meaningful motives that could have driven him and the FNAF lore forwards.

I’ll start with some background. Officer Robert ‘Bobby’ Dunn was new to the department in Hurricane, Utah. At the start of his career he had taken on a number of cold cases. One of which being Hurricane Utah’s most infamous, the disappearances of 5 children at local pizzeria, Freddy Fazbear’s.

Bobby dug into the evidence surrounding the events that transpired. He began investigating further, which led him to the doorstep of the then closed building that had once been operating as the restaurant in question. He made multiple trips to Freddy Fazbear’s and was able to uncover old files, blueprints of the building among other documents. All of which aided in fleshing out missing details from the original report.

The chief of police found out about Bobby’s ventures and advised against his continued digging. He was worried for his officer’s safety in a building that was legally condemned by the city. Despite this however Dunn returned to the restaurant, feeling he needed to take one last look.

It was raining hard the night Officer Dunn arrived at the rundown establishment. Upon going inside he had the strangest feeling that he was being watched. Bobby made his way to the back office, in the hopes of retrieving files that may have been left behind. Employee records, spreadsheets, checkbooks, anything.

The next thing he knew his throat felt like it was burning and he couldn't breathe. The last thing he saw…was a rabbit. Decrepit and laughing wildly as it loomed over him while he bled out on the dirty checkered floor. Bobby’s world went dark… The moment that he was self aware he found himself standing in that office. With no concept of how much time had passed or- what happened to him. Thinking it had all been a strange dream he attempted to leave but each time he tried he would wind up right back where he started… in the office.

Bobby soon met them. The little ones. The children who had gone missing. First there was one…the bravest. Then there were two. Soon he was in the presence of more.

They were scared...Bobby realized almost like he had forgotten- that they were the reason he had come here. Any relief Bobby had felt by finding them evaporated when he realized they were like him. Gone…just not entirely.

Over time Bobby gained their trust, learned their names and heard their stories.

Each child had met the same golden rabbit dressed in purple who lured them away from their families and led them to their end. Bobby promised them that no matter what happened… he would protect them. He would not leave them and that somehow…he would see justice carried out.

They stuck together from that day forward, becoming some version of a family. Bobby had always wanted children and they needed him. The officer took it upon himself to ensure nothing happened to any of them. The children showed him the suits that their bodies had been hidden inside of. One of them… the bravest, had excitedly shown how he could manipulate the robot itself. Making it talk and do exactly as he wanted rather than whatever it had been programmed to do.

The Animatronics were their safe space, the item they felt secure to hide away in. Bobby, having not been stuffed into a suit at his end, had the freedom to move about where he saw fit…on an endless security patrol. After all, he had no reason to hide.

The case files that Bobby had looked into, stated that five children had gone missing from the Pizzeria but he had only met four. Gabriel who resided within Bonnie, Susie who remained within Chica, Fritz who hid inside of Foxy and Cassidy who took up residence inside Freddy. Cassidy was the only child who ever hid from Bobby, wanting nothing to do with him. She was aloof and untrusting. Angry and spiteful. She had died on her birthday and she definitely asserted herself to be the ringleader of the others at least for a time.

At first Cassidy would use the Freddy suit like the others but eventually she seemed to vanish entirely. Losing interest in the suit like a child outgrowing a toy. They all looked for her but never came back to them. It almost seemed as though she did not want to be found.

Bobby had thought maybe she had…passed on. Moved on, perhaps found peace? At least that is always what he had hoped was true. Though he was not entirely sure, sometimes he thought he could still hear her. Eventually with her absence persisting and the children wishing him to stay closer to them Bobby begain to occupy the Freddy Animatronic.

He has been inside every sense. Every rendition the mascot has undertaken , every upgrade. It's still him. Hiding like the rest of them. In plain sight but unseen.

Over the past forty years Dunn was able to put together the full story. Which quickly became stranger than fiction .

One of the founders of Fazbear Entertainment, William Afton, was responsible for the murder and disappearance of the children, Officer Dunn and countless others who had worked for the company. He was tried and acquitted of all charges…found not guilty by the courts due to the lack of evidence. Meaning he got away with it. He got away with all the lives he stole.

The justice system failed…but karma seemed to come back around for Afton. In a fitting twist of fate that man who had dismembered and stuffed the bodies of small children into the suits of animatronics met his end inside of one. He died…but he didn’t leave. He remained inside that crumpled bunny suit until Bobby walked into that office. Giving him a new victim.

William Afton’s soul lives on…free from meeting the justice for his actions and free to continue his twisted experiments within the catacombs of the pizzaplex. The children’s souls can not truly be at rest until he is gone for good and Officer Dunn has sworn to put an end to this cycle once and for all. Protecting everyone to the best of his ability, as he swore to do when he first donned the badge.

~Spooki🖤

[zephyrusz]

woah. woah. oc alert.. wow. allow me, zephyr. to go on a massive rant about my beloved stinky little baba ever. proceed.

harper windrix :3

allow me to introduce them to all of you willing participants. very willing, by the way.

i honestly domt know when harper first conjured up in my noggin, i know it was sometime in middle school so at least three years now? not too sure but the earliest memory i have of them is sitting in my 8th grade english class reading the outsiders for the fifth time, and thinking of the church in windrixville. i dunno what came over me but i ran home and immediately dropped the ville part of it and slapped it on harper for their last name. yes it is quite embarrassing but it fits kinda well??

im gonna keep this as short as possible.

harper, by themselves, is sort of an extension of my own self. i was very shy and insecure in middle school, so i eventually formed up harper and wrote them into little oc+canon type scenarios where they interact with my comfort characters and get the comfort i honestly needed back then. this led to a 100k+ word document compiling every single hurt/comfort scenario i put them through from middle school up until now (which nobody could torture the information in that doc out of me btw). yes, it was cringy, but to be cringe is to be free. and i flapped my wings of freedom out of the hellhole that was 8th grade, and onto better things.

i love harper with all my heart. they truly are just me, if i was cooler. everything theyve been through ive been through myself, but it felt good for me to write them getting the comfort i needed back then. and to this day i still write new stories and reread the old ones to get back that sense of comfort. they are truly my sweetest pie in the world of ocs i have.

I DONT EXPECT ANYONE TO ACTUALLY READ ALL THAT YAP BUT HERES SOME COOLER STUFF :3

a list of all the fandoms i have chucked them into !!

; identity v (this will be the most common in this blog i love this one the most out of everything)

; genshin impact

; warrior cats (yes they are a kitty. dont hate now.)

; pokemon

; my dungeons and dragons campaign

; a modern genshin impact setting

; yaelokre

and thats kinda all i have for now!! i love talking about them and sharing facts and stuff so if you want more harper content........ please ask im begging i need excuses to yap and yap qnd yap oh my goshness

thank you for reading, harper will return soon!! pinky promise swear!!

[kannedia]

FFXIV Write 2024 - Day 21 - Shade

Oscar takes a journey to an ancient city beneath the sea.

The Tempest had always been a difficult place to navigate for Oscar. His latest trip was no different.

It wasn't all bad. He would even argue that it wasn't bad to begin with as this time he had luxury of time. He could linger and wander as he wished, so long as he made it to his destination sometime within the same day he had set out.

And the Tempest was a wonder. There were so many things he had not had a chance to see the first time when he had needed rush through. Or the second really when the situation was dire for a completely different reason.

He stopped again to examine a piece of aquatic flora he had not noticed before. It reminded him in a way of the setting sun. Though it was about as warming as the other plants he had encountered on his journey.

Oscar allowed himself a moment to regret not bringing his old journal. It shouldn't be necessary, he reminded himself as he continued on his path, G'raha was awake in the source. He could tell him what he saw when he returned.

Finding his way became easier once Oscar reached the Ondo Cups and subsequently entered Amaurot.

It was not much changed since his last visit. Something he supposed he should have expected. It had not faded yet, though Y'shtola had estimated it had about a year left with what little energy was left to sustain it.

And yet the city still seemed as busy as Ul'dah on a festival day.

Oscar let out a small sigh, the weight of where he was and what he planned to do weighing on his shoulders for the first time since he had ventured out. He hoped the lilies in his pack were still in good shape.

He followed one of the nameless shades for a time before managing to find his way to the aetheryte plaza. Where he hoped to be the center of the city.

With a quick motion, he dropped his pack on the ground and then gently plucked a wrapped bundle of flowers from the top. The felt sturdy in his hands, in the same way the ground beneath his feet did. Yet given the state of things- No. He would not allow himself to dwell.

Oscar did not know if the First had a specific flower associated with mourning. Or if the Ancients had any form of funeral rites to begin with. From the way Emet Selch made it sound they were practically immortal until the Final Days wiped out so many.

Still, he noted as he gently placed the Nymian lilies down at the base of the aetheryte, they deserved to be mourned just as everyone else did.

"I hope you are able to rest easy one day," Oscar said sadly as he remembered the kindness of Hythlodaeus. The sorrow of Elidibus and the anger of Emet Selch and the hope of Venat followed soon after in his mind. "I promise I will do what I can to remember everything I learned here."

With his task complete, he turned to leave. For a second, he thought he heard distant voices and kind words. He doubted that his words reached anyone, but he would allow himself the thought for a while longer.