#look. i like shipping. i don't want to come across me forcing this ship on people but i think it's important to mention this & consider it

[rennalaqotfm]

𖤓 DRAGONSPEAR | J.V (PART IV)

Pairing: Prince Jacaerys Velaryon x Martell Princess! Reader

Synopsys: Upon discovering Aemond Targaryen's alliance with the Triarchy, the Blacks are pushed to the point of desperation. With the war looming over the horizon, they have no choice but to turn to an unlikely ally: House Martell.

Content Warning: Sexual content (but MDNI 18+ just to be safe), dry humping (-ish?), violence, alcohol consumption, toxic dynamics, swearing, themes of prejudice and misogynism, and a lot of 'fucking politicking,' as King Viserys said, (not proofread).

WC: 5.6k

Series Masterlist

(A/N and taglist at the end of the chapter)

As the winds guided Ser Tyland's ship to the Free Cities, the excitement regarding the wedding of the future Princess of Dorne and the Crown Prince buzzed in the air. No ravens had to be sent, for the whispers began within the palace walls, spread through the bustling streets of Sunspear, and were carried by the desert winds across the dunes, reaching the furthest Dornish houses.

Princess Y/n sat before her mirror, watching her handmaiden, Melynda, fasten the back of her dress. A sweet girl of one-and-twenty, Melynda had been brought from Pentos on a cramped boat, a former slave traded by her master for coin. Ever since she had served the Princess with quiet devotion, her nimble fingers always making a masterpiece out of her.

Despite being draped in the finest fabrics of deep sapphire, adorned with intricate golden swirls and beads of amber, Y/n stared blankly at her reflection. The celebrations leading to the wedding were set to last a fortnight, a long stretch filled with feasts, ceremonies, and endless politicking. In mere hours, she would be facing the guests, forced to smile and charm as she and the Velaryon boy persuaded them to align with Rhaenyra's cause. She didn't even know where to begin looking for the strength and willpower she had to gather to convince those lords to join a war she herself didn't fully believe in.

“Is it too tight, Princess?” Melynda asked meekly, noting how Y/n had remained quiet the whole time she had been preparing her. "Princess?"

Suddenly, Y/n's bottom lip began to quiver as she felt a knot forming in her throat. 

“Gods be damned…” she muttered, feeling her tears pooling in her eyes. “How did it all come to this?” 

“If it's too tight, mayhaps I could—”

“Of course, it’s bloody tight! It’s damn near crushing my guts!” the Princess burst out, causing her handmaiden to stumble backward, her hands trembling. “I apologise, Melynda,” she sniffed, feeling the guilt pool in her chest. It wasn’t the first time she had taken her anger and frustration out on the younger girl. Of all the people in the palace, she was the least deserving of such crude treatment. “It’s just—”

“I understand, Princess,” Melynda smiled sadly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Y/n held her hand softly, holding back her cries. “To be betrothed to someone who you don't truly love must be a punishment for the soul.”

“I’ve been trying to avoid this all these years. Gods forbid a woman who wants to live a life free from all this nonsense," she muttered bitterly.

“You are to be the Princess of Dorne. It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

“But not with a Targaryen… someone who sees us as nothing more than goatfuckers.”

“Once you get to acquainted with one another, I’m certain he’ll see past the veil of prejudice that blinds the rest of Westeros.”

“Oh, we’re well past the point of acquaintances, and I’m certain we’ve both made it clear that we’d rather kill each other than push forward with this betrothal.”

“And yet, you've hardly spent a moment alone together, away from prying eyes. Forgive me if I'm wrong, my Princess, but this hostility you feel towards one another... it feels more like the weight of your houses than your own. He’s not truly wronged you, nor have you wronged him... well, apart from the few wounds you’ve exchanged.”

“I wish it were as simple as you say, but the hatred between our houses runs deeper than that trial. We’re talking about years of bloodshed, of lives torn apart by their desire to conquer what was never theirs. How can we ever forget that? If anything, those Targaryens are only reaping what they've sown.”

“I understand, Princess, but is it truly fair to place the sins of the forefathers upon their children? Yes, the Targaryens once sought to conquer Dorne, but they failed. And since then, they’ve left us to rule our lands. Why should Prince Jacaerys suffer for the wrongdoings of his ancestors when he himself hasn't harmed you?”

“You speak the truth, Melynda. But do you truly think the rest of the Dorne will see it that way?” She stared at her handmaiden's reflection. “The pain the Targaryens have caused... it’s not just written in our histories, it’s engraved into the souls of our people.”

“I’m not saying that your betrothal to Prince Jacaerys will reconcile your houses overnight, Princess. In fact, it may take generations to heal these wounds. However, if Queen Rhaenyra proves to be the rightful and just ruler she claims to be, and honours your demands... and you and Prince Jacaerys unite the Seven Kingdoms as promised, then mayhaps it could be the beginning of something.” 

Suddenly, both women were startled by a knock on the door.

“Yes?” Y/n cleared her throat.

“My Princess,” Ser Domeric said from the other side. “The guests have begun to arrive, and your presence is expected shortly.”

Princess Y/n quickly composed herself, ensuring that any trace of sorrow had vanished from her face, and replaced her semblance with a mask of indifference.

The late afternoon breeze crept through the palace windows, stirring the heavy air in the Hall but doing little to lift the mood. Spirits were low and the lingering music was drowned out by the quiet murmurs of the guests. Lords and ladies from House Yronwood to House Qorgyle had traversed across the arid deserts to Sunspear, not out of enthusiasm, but out of duty, their gazes shifting warily as they gathered to pay tribute to the Princess. Even Y/n herself, appeared as though she wished to be anywhere else.

At the high table, the Martells sat alongside the Targaryens, not able to look one another eye to eye. They faced the great houses, whose semblance didn’t hide their disdain for the dragonriders. They showed no efforts for forced pleasantries, bracing themselves for the next chapter of conflict rather than celebrating a wedding that would unite the Seven Kingdoms.

Before anything, Prince Qoren stood up, ready to speak before his people.

“It is truly an honour to welcome you all this evening, and I thank each and every one of you for making the long journey to Sunspear. Tonight, we gather not only to celebrate the betrothal of my beloved daughter, Princess Y/n Martell, to the Crown Prince Jacaerys Velaryon... but also, the union between House Martell and House Targaryen,” he spoke, the enthusiasm fading in his voice. 

The crowd fell into an immediate hush, the lords and ladies exchanging uncertain glances, some full of resentment, and some full of disgust. Y/n felt each pressing gaze suffocating her and tried to hide her discomfort behind the rim of her cup, already expecting those pessimistic reactions. After all, who in their right mind would willingly wed a Targaryen?

“Out of all of the suitors that have lost their lives willing to serve you and our realm, you chose to spare the one whose ancestors sought to conquer our lands?” Lady Liara from House Briar’s voice trembled, barely able to hold back her anger. “Could you not have shown mercy to my sweet boy Eldritch instead?”

The Princess had always been taught to hold back in such moments, especially in front of such a large audience, but before she could stop herself, the words were already spilling out of her mouth.

“My Lady,” Y/n began, trying to push down the feeling of irritation rising up her chest. “Remind me… who sent your son, alone, to seek my hand? As far as I know, someone that young shouldn’t be burdened with ‘providing me a strong heir’ or ‘making Dorne more prosperous than it already is.’ Those aren’t words a boy of three-and-ten should be speaking.” 

Lady Liara sank back to her seat with a scowl. The Princess’ gaze swept across the Hall, their faces etched with grief and bitterness, never forgetting the lives lost in pursuit of her hand. 

Whilst the guests sat in silence, waiting for either Prince Qoren or Princess Y/n to justify such a decision, Rhaenyra seized the moment to capture the crowd’s attention. She cleared her throat and rose slowly, her lilac eyes lingering on each guest, meeting the same eyes that had carried pent-up hatred for generations.

“By coming here, we are not denying the sins of House Targaryen,” she paused, allowing her words to settle, her gaze never leaving the crowd.  “I understand that to many of you, we are still the enemy. I am aware of the blood that was spilled and the pain that has lingered for generations. But the true enemies now are the Greens, who have usurped the Throne and seek to bring all of Westeros to its knees. And I know Dorne will not bend without a fight. Join us, and we will stand together. We can prevent the war that the Greens will bring to your lands.”

Despite Rhaenyra's words, the guests still mumbled with one another and her plea fell on indifferent ears. She clasped her hands together, holding her composure.

“So, the Greens are the enemies now, eh?" A voice echoing across the hall finally broke through the whispers. “To them, you are the usurper. And as far as we are concerned, they have yet to come to our lands to pester us with this petty war of yours.”

“Do not mistake their silence for mercy, my Lord. When they come, they will not ask. They will take. And by then, it may be too late to decide where your loyalties lie,” Daemon retorted.

“They have left us with no other choice,” Lord Lysander Dayne scowled. “Is this why you brought these beasts? So they can burn us if we refuse to join?”

Upon the mere mention of the dragons, the fear of the crowd became palpable. Prince Qoren’s face was flushed with anger, seeing that the celebration had somehow turned into a council meeting.

“Enough of this nonsense!” Prince Qoren bellowed, rising to his feet and jabbing his fist to the table. "We are here to celebrate the upcoming wedding of my daughter, not to squabble over this bloody war! If I hear more of it tonight, I’ll throw you in a pit of scorpions myself," his voice cut through the crowd, making the lords shrink back into their seats as he glared at Rhaenyra.

The music, which had momentarily ceased, began to play again. Princess Y/n exhaled deeply, gripping her cup as she swirled the crimson liquid. If she was going to endure the remainder of this night and persuade those thick-skulled lords to support Rhaenyra, she would need wine. A lot of it. She downed the first cup, the sweet taste lingering on her palate as her gaze shifted across the room, spotting the lords she had to sway.

Lord Lysander of House Dayne sat with his lady wife, his stern face etched with displeasure. He had made it clear where he stood, opposing any involvement in the war. Yet, he was infamously known for his ambition; he was the sort of man who would bend the knee for the right price, advancing his own house in exchange for his formidable army. Then there was Lord Thaddeus of House Yronwood, head of the second-most powerful house in Dorne, capable of providing enough supplies to sustain the armies at sea; a practical man, loyal to tradition, but always open to negotiation. On the other side of the Hall, she spotted Lord Ander of House Jordayne, who owned the largest fleet in Dorne.

Ser Domeric, being part of House Uller and their loyal informant, would provide whatever support was asked. And lastly, House Santagar, though not enthusiastic, had always been fiercely loyal to the Martells and would stand by their house regardless.

Despite the collective disappointment lingering in the air, as the feast came to an end, the guests stood up to salvage what remained of the evening. Jacaerys’ eyes followed Y/n as she rose from her seat, weaving through the multitude and making her way to Lord Lysander. The man bowed his head and extended his hand, offering the Princess a dance which she accepted with a smile that seemed far too charming than she would normally allow herself to be. Jacaerys couldn’t tear his gaze from Y/n, watching how she leaned towards Lord Lysander, her lips closely brushing his ear, as he nodded eagerly so as not to disappoint her.

“A celebration of our upcoming betrothal?” Jacaerys scoffed, already feeling his blood boil at the sight of the Princess with another man. Had they been at the Red Keep, the whispers would have already circled around, rumours of the Princess enjoying the company of other men, even while bound by a betrothal to him, that would call into question not only her honour but the legitimacy of their future children. He could already hear the council’s scandalous whispers behind closed doors–whispers that had been haunting him all his life.

“She’s quite gifted, isn’t she, my dear sister?” Elyas remarked, turning to Jacaerys. “She has a way of making men dance in the palm of her hand.”

“Only if one is foolish enough to fall for whatever games she is playing,” Jacaerys muttered.

Jacaerys and Elyas watched how Lord Lysander placed a kiss on top of her hand. With one final whisper, she slipped away from his arms and disappeared into the crowd, only to be seen again; that time with Lord Ander, who offered the Princess his hand without hesitation. 

“There are a couple of things you should know about her,” Elyas said with a sneer, glancing at the Princess. “One of them is… you’ll never be her only one.”

“You need not tell me what I can already see. It seems your sister is not familiar with the notion of faithfulness.”

“Faithfulness? As far as I’m aware, neither of you are bound by vows just yet,”  Elyas grinned, noting how Jacaerys clearly wasn’t enjoying the conversation. "But listen, this celebration isn’t meant for you to sulk in a corner, watching my sister dance with every lord in Dorne. It's for indulging. There’s a place not too far from the palace, where we know how to truly celebrate. Who knows? You might not even survive this war you’re throwing yourself into. You may as well enjoy the finest pleasures our land has to offer before it’s too late," Jacaerys’s knuckles whitened around his cup, his repulsion palpable, but Elyas only leaned in closer. 

As much as Jacaerys despised watching Princess Y/n flit from lord to lord, he wasn’t about to lower himself to her games. What was she trying to prove? Was she testing him, daring him to show any signs of jealousy or anger? Or mayhaps she was simply making it clear, once again, how much she misliked him?

Jacaerys refused to give Elyas the satisfaction of a response and merely shook his head. Elyas smirked, amused by Jacaerys' restraint, and stood up, ensuring he ruined the evening even more before leaving.

“Oh, and just so you know… whatever illusions you have about loyalty and honour, you'd best cast them aside. If you think my sister will suddenly change her ways after this betrothal of yours, then you’re completely wrong. I’m telling you now, she won’t. She’s as Dornish as they come… untamable and always chasing trouble. The more you tighten the leash, the more she’ll struggle to break free. And she’ll keep playing her games, whether you like them or not... so you better learn how to play them if you don't wish to end up as another one of her playthings,” Elyas said, slapping Jacaerys’ shoulder playfully before walking away.

Jacaerys hadn’t even realised how tightly he was clenching his jaw until the sound of Elyas and his sworn protector’s fading footsteps pulled him back to reality. He let out a breath, trying to shake off the bitterness away, and downed a gulp of wine.

But what he hadn’t noticed was a pair of dark wide eyes watching him from the other end of the table. It was Farien, whose gaze had been flickering between him and Elyas the whole time. When Jacaerys caught the boy's gaze, his expression softened. He set down his cup, watching how the little boy stood up and made his way over to him.

“If you marry my sister, does that mean you’ll become my brother?” Farien asked. 

“I suppose,” he forced a smile, though he wasn’t sure if the little boy was particularly glad about that.

Farien climbed on to the empty seat beside Jacaerys, glancing around the nearly deserted table and making sure none of his family members were nearby. All of the Martells were tending their own business, leaving the Targaryens seated in silence. The boy leaned in close, cupping his small hands around Jacaerys’s ear, scared that someone might hear what he had to say.

“So, does that mean I get to ride your dragon?” He whispered. 

Jacaerys looked at him, his eyes widening in surprise. 

“If your father allows you, then I suppose you could… but are you not afraid?” He asked.

“I’m really, really scared. But I wonder what it must feel like to see the world from up above. The closest I’ve ever gotten to flying is in my dreams, you know? It feels like I’m one of Father’s falcons, soaring high in the skies. Father says I have the gift to turn into one of them at night and watch over the desert,” he glanced up, his eyes gleaming in wonder.

Jacaerys looked at the boy and allowed himself to smile, as Farien somehow reminded him of his younger brother, Joffrey, whom he hadn't seen in a long time.

“Anyway,” Farien continued, “I think we could be brothers, you and I. We even look alike, see?” He pointed at Jacaerys’ curls. “It would be nice to have another brother... because, well, Elyas... he’s nice, sometimes. But not always.”

Jacaerys held back a scoff, figuring as much. 

“And what about your sister?” 

“We like sneaking sweets from the kitchens and feeding them to the horses,” Farien’s eyes suddenly lit up. “And she loves fighting, too. But not the angry, shouting kind, no. She says that sometimes, fighting feels like dancing, and that’s why she enjoys it. She’s really good at it. And I think you are too. But my sister is better.”

Just as he was about to ask Farien what other things his sister enjoyed, one of the little boy’s servants approached them. 

“My Prince, your father has sent me to take you back to your chambers to rest,” she smiled at the little boy, who had no choice but to accept dejectedly.

As the servant took him in her arms, Farien waved at Jacaerys with a small smile. He nodded at the little boy, unable to stop himself from smiling back.

“At least the little one is not as irritating as the rest of his family,” Rhaenyra said as her gaze softened, noticing how the little boy never tore his eyes from them as he got further and further.

“Give him a couple of years. He will turn out exactly like his older brother,” Daemon muttered. 

Then, Jacaerys' gaze trailed back to the Princess once again, who was still locked in a dance with Lord Ander. The exchange of whispers seemed to grow more intense, as his lips lingered on the shell of her ear, making her nod as her smile never left her lips.

“Jacaerys,” Daemon’s sharp voice cut through his thoughts. “Do you not have a duty to fulfil?”

“I have been fulfilling them since the moment we arrived,” he muttered, his voice laced with irritation. As Jacaerys had been doing everything he could to uphold his duties, Daemon merely sat back, watching the spectacle he had set in motion unravel before him. 

“You have, but sitting and watching the Princess be courted by every lord in Dorne is not one of them. Listen to me, these men are doing everything in their power to pull her away from our alliance since they can see she does not favour you,” he paused leaning in closer. “You are no stranger to this. If you two are to rule the Seven Kingdoms, she needs to be seen by your side.”

Jacaerys rose from his seat as he exhaled, growing frustrated by the second. It was all in the name of duty, after all. He headed towards the Princess with steady steps, disappearing into the crowd and dodging every drunken lord and lady that stood in his way. Lord Ander, who seemed to have more intentions than just dancing with the Princess, held her close, too close, his hands lingering on her waist. 

“My Lord,” Jacaerys cleared his throat, barely containing himself. Lord Ander snapped his head towards his direction. “I would hate to interrupt your conversation, but the hour is quite late, and Princess Y/n needs to rest.”

“Is that so?” He pulled Y/n even closer to him, making Jacaerys’ blood boil. “How come the Princess seems to be enjoying herself?”

Jacaerys’ eyes flicked to the cup in her hand, the liquid threatening to spill from the rim. He wasn’t a stranger to that dazed look and that loose smirk playing on her lips. 

“The Princess seems to have indulged in one too many cups. You may continue whatever… conversation you were having on the morrow, my Lord,” Jacaerys forced his words through his teeth. 

“Is that an order from the Crown Prince? Or from a boy who is still learning how to hold a woman’s interest?” Lord Ander raised a brow, sliding his hand even lower on her waist. 

The Princess’ gaze flicked between the two men, unaware of the escalating tension. She took another sip from her cup, her eyes landing on Jacaerys, finally acknowledging how dashing he looked in a Dornish ensemble of deep blues and golds.

“Gods, spare me,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “You two sound like you’re ready to start another war.”

“If it means winning your favour, Princess,” Lord Ander said with a grin.

“Mayhaps that's a battle for another day. Besides, the Prince is right, the hour is quite late,” she said softly, growing tired at the show of bravado between the two men. She moved away from Lord Ander and took a step towards Jacaerys.

Jacaerys, whose heart was pounding with both anger and relief, offered her his arm. Y/n would’ve hesitated at first, but under the effects of wine, any qualms were long gone. She noted how he tensed his arm uncomfortably, unaware that she was putting pressure on the wound she had given him not too long ago. 

Casymir leaned against one of the pillars with a hint of amusement on his face, watching the whole scene unfold before his eyes. Once Jacaerys and Y/n were away from the crowd, he finally pushed himself off the pillar, approaching Jacaerys, who was struggling to keep her in place.

“Allow me, my Prince. The Princess is in good hands with me,” he said, extending his arm. 

Jacaerys glared at Casymir as he adjusted her weight in his arm, wondering what he was smiling for.

“You are the Princess’ sworn protector, are you not?” He raised his brow. 

“Yes, my Prince,” he smiled proudly.

“Yet all you did was stand and watch how the Princess wandered into the clutches of men with less than noble intentions,” Jacaerys tried to keep his composure, though his anger simmered beneath the surface.

“Do you question my service to the Princess, my Prince?” He chuckled, brushing the Prince’s concerns aside. “The Princess was in no immediate danger. And as far as I’m aware, a dance with a lord hardly constitutes a threat.”

“If you think a man whose ulterior motives are clearly written in his face not to be dangerous, then mayhaps we have very different understandings of the word danger,” Jacaerys said. 

“You greatly misunderstand the Princess. Lord Ander was eager, but he knew better than to cross the line. And besides, she would’ve ended his attempts long before you stepped in. As you might have already… experienced, the Princess knows how to handle herself and hardly needs to be coddled,” his blue eyes trailed at the way their arms were intertwined. “Though, it seems she doesn’t mind letting you try.”

“So, what are you here for, then? Just for decoration?”  

“Is picking fights with other men a favourite pastime of yours, my Prince?” The Princess laughed, poking fun at Jacaerys as she unconsciously tightened her grip around his injured arm. “You do seem to have a talent for making enemies wherever you go.”

Jacaerys hesitated, unsure if replying to the Princess was even worth the efforts given her current state, so he merely scoffed, shaking his head in defeat. However, one thing he couldn’t ignore was the feeling of having her so close as she mindlessly ran her hand up and down the length of his arm. He tried to calm his heart, but he couldn’t keep his composure with each stroke of her fingers that made him lean into her touch ever so slightly.   

Once they reached the Princess’ chambers, Casymir leaned on the door, his arms crossed with an infuriatingly calm expression on his face. 

“If you wish to be escorted back to your chambers, my Prince, I can call for a servant,” Casymir offered, implying that Jacaerys had overstayed his welcome.

“No. I wish to stay. The Princess and I have a few words to exchange,” he said.

“I’ll be fine, Cas,” the Princess slurred, assuring her sworn protector with a slow nod.

“As you wish, my Princess. I'll be just outside, should you require any assistance.”

Jacaerys stood by the door, unsure of what to do now that he was inside the Princess’ chambers. It wasn’t improper of him, as her soon-to-be husband, to be seen there, so he found himself leaning against the wall, trying to regain the composure that he had repeatedly lost throughout the night. His eyes trailed around the intricately carved golden statues that adorned the corners and the colourful tapestries that swayed slightly, catching the faint breeze that slipped through the windows and bringing with it the distant murmurs of the ongoing celebration. 

Only when he heard a soft clink and the steady stream of wine being poured into a cup, he snapped out of his thoughts. Before he could even think, he turned to Y/n, walking towards her and snatching the cup and jug from her hands, causing her mouth to hang open in disbelief and indignation. 

“You will not drink any more tonight,” he ordered, pouring the liquid out of the window and slamming the cup aside.  

“Well, isn’t this absolutely perfect?” She spat, throwing her arms in the air in defeat. “Not only will you take away my freedom, but now you wish to take away one of the few things that bring me joy?”

“You must live a very miserable life, Princess, if wine and men are the few things in life that bring you joy,” Jacaerys burst out, no longer able to contain the pent-up anger that had been brewing all night.

“Oh, believe me, I’ll have a miserable life once I marry you.”

“And what makes you think I want to marry you? That behaviour of yours… is unacceptable,” he wrinkled his nose in disgust. “I do not wish to marry someone who is a slave to their desires.”

“A slave to my desires? Is that what you think of me?” Y/n shouted, unable to control the fury taking over her voice.

“What else am I supposed to think when you go from lord to lord like a marionette whose strings had been cut?” He paused, taking in her dishevelled appearance. “I was not aware how these Dornishmen could name someone so ruthless and so debauched as their Princess.” 

“And I didn’t know you Targaryens go around crowning bastards just to keep your house on the Throne,” she spat, making sure to rest her gaze on his dark eyes and on his brown locks long enough.

“You whore–!”

Before Jacaerys could finish his sentence, Y/n's palm collided with his cheek in a stinging slap, his head snapping to the side. His eyes widened, more in shock than pain, as his hand instinctively rose to the reddening mark on his face.

“A whore? A savage? A goatfucker?” Y/n's voice trembled with fury. “Is that all you see me as?” She shoved him hard, sending him stumbling backward until his back hit the wall. Her finger jabbed into his chest with every word. “You,” she spat, “should be thanking me for getting my hands dirty, persuading those lords to join your petty war!”

Jacaerys was stunned into silence momentarily, feeling every ounce of her rage bleeding through her words.

“And who told you to do that on your own?” Jacaerys shot back. “You could have asked me, we could have gone together and spoken to them like it is expected of us!”

“You overestimate yourself,” she scoffed, narrowing her eyes at him. “Do you even know what those lords think of you? Of your family? If it weren’t for our betrothal, they would have driven a spear through your chests without a second thought. Because to them, you Targaryens are nothing but bloodthirsty murderers who’ve come to take our lands all over again.”

“Enough!” Jacaerys grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her, slamming her against the wall. “You think I do not know that? You think I do not feel it every time I step into a room? The way they look at me? At my family? You think I enjoy being the enemy?” He seethed, feeling his throat grow raw with each word. “Gods, you are infuriating,” he grunted, realising how close their faces were to one another. 

The Princess’ lips curled into a smirk, a flicker of satisfaction lingering in her eyes. She had struck a nerve, realising how Jacaerys was always quick to react to whatever blasphemous speech she had to say about his family, and once again, she had managed to unleash the dormant wrath that blinded his actions. 

As the Princess found herself cornered between his arms and the wall, she crouched low, slipping beneath his arms in a fluid motion and spinning around to pin Jacaerys against the wall, pressing her chest to his back. Jacaerys reacted instinctively, kicking off the wall to shove her back. The sudden force sent her stumbling as she crashed on the ground, and he followed, landing on top of her in a tangle of limbs.

Just as he was about to stand up, Y/n yanked him back down and rolled on top of him, keeping him in place by locking her thighs around his waist and pinning his arms on the floor with one swift movement. Truth be told, Jacaerys could have easily pushed her away as her usual strength was halved by the wine; yet he remained still, feeling the warmth of Y/n’s body pressed into his, and how their faces were inches apart yet again, her breath hot on his skin.

Once again, he found himself under her mercy.

She stared down at him with half-lidded eyes and lips slightly open as she breathed lightly, taking in the sight of Jacaerys’ flushed face and his gaze clouded by desire. Jacaerys looked up at her and gulped, feeling his erection stirring uncomfortably beneath his breeches.

His eyes locked onto her plump lips and trailed towards to the hollow of her neck, down to her chest. He stared hungrily as she leaned towards him, his fingertips itching to explore the skin hidden beneath the fabric of her dress. As she got closer and closer to his face, Jacaerys’ breath hitched, and without realising it, his lips parted slightly as his eyes fluttered shut in anticipation. His pulse quickened, waiting for the warmth of her lips pressing against his.

But instead of the kiss he craved, he felt the hot caress of her breath graze the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Her voice, low and smooth, held him captive with each honeyed word.

“If you want to win this little war of yours, you better start by respecting me,” she whispered as she let go of one of his wrists and began tracing delicate patterns with her finger. “Just because I’ve chosen you as my betrothed doesn’t mean I won’t change my mind,” she bucked her hips against his hardened cock, causing Jacaerys to groan at the sudden spark of pleasure coursing in his veins. 

In that very moment, Y/n had uncovered yet another emotion—the primal desire that, despite her infuriating attitude, she had managed to set ablaze. If Jacaerys had to ask himself how it happened, he wouldn’t know where to begin answering. Had it all started when they first met, when she held little regard for him? Was it in the arena, when she brazenly humiliated him in front of everyone? Or was it the fact that they always seemed to find themselves pointing a blade at each other’s throats? Behind all that anger and hatred, and the prejudice that blinded him from seeing the Princess as she truly was, lay a spark of curiosity. Something he knew that once he began to explore, that spark would turn into wildfire.

With each passing second, he fought against the temptation to place his hands on the curve of her hips and make her grind herself against his cock.

“Remember, my Prince,” she purred in his ear, bucking her hips once again. “The wedding has not taken place yet, and anything could happen.” 

A/N: For some reason, i keep beating my wordcount record. istg my fanfic wc is way bigger than all of my uni papers combined, and bare in mind i was a humanities student lmfaooo.

anyway, i feel like this chapter was a mess. jace's patience continuously getting tested by everyone, and our reader making things even harder for him. i actually feel sorry for those two but the way they are handling things is not very demure, mindful or cutesy. we got the exact opposite.

Taglist: @happinessinthebeing @deltamoon666 @dark1paradise @elz-zalarrr @v0dka4a (continued in comments)

[decembermidnight]

Don't lose your focus

Summary: As a Jedi Padawan fighting during the Clone Wars, you and your Master are used to teaming up with Clones. But none are as intriguing as Clone Force 99 and their leader, Sergeant Hunter. Sparks fly immediately and it's difficult to keep your focus. With the mission complete, perhaps the two of you will finally give in and indulge in your desires...

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!fem!reader

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: smut, 18+ MDNI, Dom!Hunter, use of pet names (sweetheart), shameless flirting, mentions of alcohol consumption, masculinity kink, voice kink, light choking, hand kink, body worship, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, orgasm delay, creampie

A/N: This is the result of me watching The Bad Batch while ovulating. This is (probably) not how the Force works but your honour I was horny. Thank you to my dear @thefrogdalorian for the immense help and support! I love you so much! Amazing divider by @saradika-graphics At the end of the fic you'll find the links to some amazing Hunter fanarts I found here on Tumblr! These were such an inspiration when writing and I wanted to thank and credit the artists for creating such amazing pieces!

Masterlist - Read on Ao3 - Read Part 2 here!

Another day, another dangerous mission in the Outer Rim.

Nothing new for you and your Master who are used to leading these missions successfully. The only difference is that this time you'll be assisted by Experimental Unit Clone Force 99. It’s the first time you even heard about them, but your superiors assured you they’re best suited for this job. A highly-skilled squad of defective clones with desirable mutations? Sounds interesting.

Apparently, The Bad Batch, as they call themselves, despise rules and protocol and adopt unusual methods to get the job done… Much like you and your Master.

Their ship has just made a bumpy landing on the field, causing a fuss. You watch curiously as the squad descends the ramp. There are four of them, and they undoubtedly look badass in their black armour.

The first one – their leader, you assume – removes his helmet and... damn. Damn. He's hot, with a confident look in his deep brown eyes. He also has long, wavy, dark hair; a feature which has always been a weakness of yours. His face is half covered in a tattoo that resembles a skeleton. He's undoubtedly the most charming of the Batch, and also the most attractive clone you’ve ever come across.

“I’m Sergeant Hunter,” he rasps as he greets you and your Master. His voice is deep and husky, very different from those of all the other clones you’ve met so far.

After introducing himself, Hunter moves to quickly describe the peculiarities that make each of the members of the team unique. As you stand back to observe them, you can’t help thinking just how much fun they are. Wrecker (the strong one) is getting reluctantly lectured by Tech (the smart one) while Crosshair (the laconic and lethal sniper) stands there in silence. He reminds you of your Master so much.

As much as you enjoy observing the rest of the squad, you find your gaze returns to Hunter, the clone with enhanced senses. You are unable to tear your eyes away from him. You know you have to keep it together, but you can’t help eating him with your eyes. Your gaze lingers on his body, on the way his pauldrons make his shoulders even broader, how much the black colour of his armour suits him. 

You have just begun fantasising about the way his strong body would look without the armour when you notice Hunter staring directly at you. Busted. You lock eyes for a few seconds and you just know that he understands the nature of the thoughts you’re having about him. Then, your pounding heart skips a beat when Hunter winks at you. It is a split-second gesture that is over so quickly amidst the chaos of the conversation, a little secret between the two of you. You smile flirtatiously at him in response.

The whole group begins heading towards their ship, The Marauder. While the rest of the Batch and your Master head up the ramp towards the ship that will take you to the rendezvous point, you and Hunter pause at the bottom.

“I’m afraid I haven’t caught your name, sweetheart?” Hunter asks, breaking the silence with his deep, raspy voice.

"I am a Jedi, not a sweetheart," you point out teasingly and look at him with crossed arms, trying to sound tough.

"A Padawan," he reminds you with a smirk on his face.

You watch curiously as Hunter takes your braid – the unmistakable sign of your rank as an apprentice – between his fingers. He gently rolls it between his gloved finger and thumb contemplatively as his brown eyes meet your gaze once again. 

"I technically outrank you, Sergeant," you say, challenging him.

"You do, Commander," Hunter nods, but makes no effort to move his hand away from your braid, or to interrupt eye contact.

Hunter can tell that you don’t mind the gesture. As if to push the boundaries further, he moves his hand from your braid to gently place it on your cheek. The leather of his glove feels soft against your face. You are stunned that a seasoned soldier such as him can actually be so gentle in the way he touches you.  

You can feel the tension coming from the two of you, a simmering fire somewhere deep within. It's only a matter of time before it boils over. You look at each other straight in the eyes, neither one of you daring to look away.

Just as you're about to tease him with yet another witty reply, you hear the sound of footsteps at the top of the ramp.

"Hey, Hunter, are you gonna come with us or what?!" Wrecker shouts, abruptly interrupting your shameless flirting.

"On my way," Hunter replies, without breaking eye contact with you.

His intense gaze lingers on you for a few more seconds before he looks at you apologetically and turns to head up to the ramp and onto the Marauder.

As soon as Hunter turns away from you, you realise just how hard your heart is thundering in your chest. His gaze was so intense that it made you forget to breathe properly. So much for the Jedi breathing techniques. It turns out if there is a handsome man with dark eyes flirting with you, they lose all effectiveness. You take a deep breath, filling your burning lungs with oxygen. 

When you enter the ship, you are still trembling. As you take a seat next to your Master, you try to ignore his accusatory glare. You feel his eyes burning into your soul as the guilt threatens to overwhelm you, even though nothing too scandalous happened.

As the Marauder enters hyperspace, your Master takes a seat on the cold metallic floor in an isolated area of the ship. Meditating before battle is a ritual he always follows and you immediately join him. It can help you shift your focus back to where it should be – on the mission. Only, you can't focus. 

Instead of your mind becoming one with the Force, you're highly attuned to the actions of the members of the squad. It is as though you can see them as if you were standing before them: Tech studying the holo-maps, Crosshair cleaning his sniper rifle, Wrecker taking a nap, and of course, Hunter. He is mindlessly playing with his vibroknife as he slouches on a crate. 

You are entranced by the way his fingers move across the handle and the blade. Maker, the movement of his hand and fingers – you can't focus on anything else as he makes the knife masterfully swirl between them. There's something so erotic about the way he plays with it. Your mind wanders to think about his hands roaming on your body, slipping between your thighs, skillfully rubbing your clit. You fantasise about how quickly Hunter would make you come, how hard your orgasm would be as it tore through you, leaving you a trembling wreck.

Your focus then goes to his muscular thighs. Hunter’s legs are spread wide and he looks so effortlessly masculine. The aura of confidence he radiates as he comfortably sits there, taking up the entire crate as he lounges on top of it, gives you even more thoughts that are unbecoming of a Padawan. It makes you almost dizzy with want as you think about how much you want to straddle him and ride him into ecstasy.

“Are you done?” your Master’s cold voice interrupts your filthy train of thought with a brief and concise message through the Force.

He heard your thoughts. Each and every single one. Your Master caught you red-handed. How embarrassing.

You are too mortified to even mumble an apology, through the Force or otherwise. Instead, you sit there wishing you could be anywhere else in the galaxy as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks and pull your hood up to hide your flustered face in your cape.

Luckily, before the awkward moment can continue for any longer, Tech announces the imminent jump out of hyperspace. You still cannot bear to make eye contact with your Master, shrinking into your blessedly baggy cape as you begin the descent into the planet’s atmosphere...

The mission was a success – you and your Master worked your magic with the precious support of Clone Force 99. What seemed like a desperate operation, turned out to be an extremely important victory for the Republic. Training with your Master has been so hard, but damn did that pay off. You slayed all your enemies elegantly and effortlessly, just like he taught you. The whole Bad Batch congratulated you two. Wrecker was especially impressed, electing the two of you as his favourite Jedi. What an honour. Hunter also invited you and your Master to celebrate the victory by having a drink all together in a cantina.

Just as you’re about to enter the cantina and join the Bad Batch, your Master calls your name. You stop in your tracks, scared that he might reprimand you for the way you acted today. You begin panicking and thinking back to what happened in guilt…

When you and your Master had taken off your heavy capes before engaging in battle, you noticed Hunter couldn't keep his eyes off you. You were wearing a skin-tight dark suit, after all.

It was a fact you decided to exploit after Hunter had given his squad their orders for the mission. You walked away swaying your hips, making sure you gave him a great opportunity to look at your ass. You remember how you could feel his eyes glued to it. You could also feel his desire for you. It was impossible for him to hide; it permeated him, radiated from him. Maker, you love making him crumble.

You think back to the way Crosshair rasped, "Hunter, don't lose your focus.”  You are certain that is what your Master is about to scold you for.

Instead, you watch in shock as a half smile appears on your Master’s face, something you don't see very often.

“You did good today. I’m proud of you,” he nods.

Since when does your Master pay you compliments like this?

“Th-Thank you,” you stammer, caught off-guard by how unexpected his praise is.

“You fulfilled your duties as a Jedi. Now, go and have your fun.”

You don’t have time to respond before he turns on his heel and walks away, cape billowing in the breeze. You know your Master doesn’t often like to stick around after missions, often needing some quiet time to himself to decompress and meditate. You let him go, knowing that he will find his way back to the Marauder before it departs, as he always does.

As you step into the Cantina, a smile spreads on your face when you notice the Bad Batch sitting at a table with a full flagon of booze and an empty seat for you to toast your success. You and Hunter lock eyes again as he invites you to sit in that spot close to him.

Hunter loses no time in placing his arm around your shoulders while smiling at you. You lean into his embrace, feeling comforted and protected.  The warm presence of his arm around you makes you smile contentedly. It feels so good to let the guard down for once, especially if you're in the arms of a handsome, strong and charming man such as Hunter.

As the night goes on, the three other members of The Bad Batch keep conversing with each other, giving you and Hunter the opportunity to speak privately. It’s as though the background noise fades out. You don't even bother focusing on the discourse the others are having. It’s just you and Hunter flirting shamelessly now.

“You know, I've never seen a ship like yours. I wish I had time to properly explore it... Thoroughly," you flirt with him while draining the last few dregs in your flagon.

"Want me to give you a tour, sweetheart?" he says with a smile on his face, perfectly understanding your intentions.

"Would be cool, yeah," you reply.

Hunter offers you his hand and you gladly accept it with a mischievous smile.

Just as you stand, you feel the alcohol has definitely kicked in. You’re not drunk though, just a little bit tipsy, enough to make you brave and go get exactly what you want.

As soon as you and Hunter get out of the cantina and find yourselves alone in the dark alley, you both give into the instincts you tried to suppress all day long. Hunter pins you to the wall as you pull him closer at the same time, until you join in a passionate, longing kiss.

You welcome his tongue in your mouth as his hands wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him. His touch and the way he kisses you are so confident that you clench around nothing, holding him tighter as you moan in his mouth. Maker, you want him. His whole body jolts when he feels that, pinning you harder against the wall, mentally cursing the armour that is preventing him from feeling the softness of your body against his. 

He stops kissing you just so he can look at how stunning you are under the moonlight, hot and flustered after that first, heavy session of making out.

"Look at you. So beautiful," he whispers as he cups your face with his hand, the other one still lingering around your waist. Hunter is treating you like the most precious thing in the galaxy now that he can finally have you all for himself. You lean into his gentle touch as he takes in all the features of your face, especially the way your eyes glimmer with admiration and arousal for him.

You look at his deep, dark and expressive brown eyes and the strong, masculine features of his face that make you throb with need. Your hand caresses his cheek, following the lines of his skeleton tattoo and the contour of his chiseled jaw. He observes you as a sweet smile appears on your face, making you look irresistible and drawing his lips closer to yours once again…

"Hey! Where's Hunter?!" you hear Wrecker shout from inside of the tavern, just as your lips are mere inches apart.

You and Hunter both laugh as you resume the kissing. It's like the whole galaxy stops existing. For a soldier who has seen nothing but war, his kisses are to die for. Your tongues twirl in each other's mouths and it's like his greedy lips can't ever get enough of yours. His mouth is hot like a damn furnace as he takes all the time in the galaxy to worship you with his lips, letting his hands wander throughout your body. You're getting soaked already, feeling your arousal slowly dripping down your legs as a throbbing need pulsates between your thighs. You moan in his mouth as you dig your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss is getting deeper and more passionate as you go on. 

Hunter's lips start to trail down to your neck, making you sigh deeply as he covers it in kisses. Your scent drives him wild. He can smell your pheromones, feeling you're unmistakably full of desire. He can't resist and just gives a swift lick from the base of your neck to your ear that makes you sharply stifle a gasp, arching your back and tightening your grip on his hair.

"Let's go to the Marauder, shall we?" he rasps in your ear, a voice full of lust that gives you goosebumps.

"Y-yes…" you stutter, feeling light-headed with arousal and being incapable of hiding it.

He offers you his hand as you enter the ship. The two of you cut a clumsy path through the Marauder towards Hunter’s bunk, frequently taking breaks where Hunter desperately pushes you against the cool steel walls of the ship, your arms clinging tight to his shoulders and his face buried in your neck.

"Maker... Take off your armour," you plead as his teeth dig into your delicate skin like a feral beast would do with his prey.

He does, letting each piece fall to the ground as you go on kissing each other, leaving a trail of armour pieces on the floor as you slowly make your way towards his bunk. He looks stunning with just his tight black suit on. You take in the broadness of his shoulders, the way his pectorals stand out, highlighted by the tightness of the suit and grope the strong muscles of his biceps. Oh, fuck. How much do you love a man. Tall, muscular, strong, confident, with dark eyes and a head full of long, wavy hair. A Man. 

You moan in his mouth when you feel his thick biceps flexing under your touch. A smile forms on his lips as he feels how much you like this. As his arms wrap around your body, yours go in his hair. Maker, how safe do you feel in his arms. It's such an innate instinct – wanting to be held in the arms of a strong man, surrendering and trusting him, something that usually you would never be permitted to do in your life as a Jedi.

You can feel his erection against your lower belly, straining against his extremely thin black suit. His fingers hook in the hem of your pants, yanking them down over your ass, exposing your drenched cunt as he sits you down in his bunk.

He kneels before you, taking your boots and pants off and spreads your legs, his dark eyes looking into yours as a smirk appears on his face.

"Hunter–" you sigh.

"Wanna get you nice and ready for me, sweetheart," he coos as he starts to kiss your inner thigh.

The vision makes you tremble with lust and your hands helplessly clench into fists in a desperate attempt to grab the material under you to keep you steady. Your legs shake but he keeps them steady in his strong arms. He goes on trailing kisses on your inner thighs without ever stopping looking at you. He's taking his time with it, wanting to enjoy the way your whole body is throbbing with need. Your breathing gets more and more shallow as his mouth gets closer to where you want him the most. 

You lift your gaze from Hunter’s dark brown eyes, shutting your eyes for a mere fraction of a second, trying to alleviate the aching need you feel. Hunter chooses that moment to finally give you what you need. With a quick lick to your clit, your whole body jerks into his touch and a whimper escapes from your lips.

Hunter smirks up at you, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards in a smug, satisfied look. Then, he proceeds to bury his face between your legs and masterfully lick your swollen clit. His tongue brings you so much pleasure that your back arches involuntarily, pushing yourself further into his mouth. You moan his name and grab a handful of his long, thick hair. He purrs in your cunt when you entangle your fingers in his hair and you notice how his grip on your legs becomes tighter.

"Oh... Oh fuck!" you exclaim in ecstasy, barely able to form words.

One of his hands releases its grasp on your legs, which he has been using to keep you spread open for him. You throw your head back gasping as he slowly slides two of his thick fingers inside you. 

"So tight," he growls with a smirk on his face.

Hunter pumps his fingers inside of you, slowly increasing the rhythm, ensuring that you’re stretched out for him. It is a motion that brings you so much pleasure you wonder how it could possibly get better. Your whole body jerks in pure bliss under his touch. He enjoys looking at you like this, you can see it from how darkened his eyes are with lust.

For a brief second, his fingers and mouth leave your cunt, leaving you devastatingly empty. You watch in awe as Hunter sticks them in his mouth, without breaking eye contact with you. He sucks on his fingers, humming while closing his eyes to savor your taste from places where his tongue can’t reach.

"You taste so good, sweetheart," he rasps as he resumes fucking you with his fingers.

He watches you contort under him, moaning and begging for him to return his skillful mouth between your thighs. Your hips thrust up and down right in front of his face. You are shamelessly fucking yourself on his fingers, inviting him to bury his face back in your folds. You desperately bury your hands in his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

"Damn, you're so beautiful like this," he says before his mouth goes back exactly where you wanted.

Then, Hunter does something absolutely devastating. While he continues licking your clit, he starts sucking it gently, all as he continues pumping his thick fingers inside of you. Hunter wants to draw an orgasm from you, his actions becoming more and more frantic as you grow closer to your climax. He can feel by the irregular way you breathe and shake that you're close. 

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Let go, sweetheart," he encourages you.

It's only a matter of seconds before you come, writhing under him. Your legs are wrapped around his head, squishing it. You scream his name so loud it echoes in the Marauder. Hunter is pleased as he looks at your blissed-out expression and feels your cunt clamping around his fingers. Your back arches as you ride your orgasm, pushing yourself further into his tongue so you can feel him licking you through your orgasm. Hunter purrs into your cunt, loving the way you let go around him. He loves how his face is getting soaked in your arousal, so addicted to the way you taste.

Hunter holds you steady as your orgasm fades out. When you regain your senses, you slowly release your grip on his hair. Only then he props himself up and slowly unzips his suit, showing you the beautiful golden skin underneath. A warm contrast under the black, tight layer.

The dark hairs on his chest are perfectly trimmed, accentuating each of his toned muscles and the tattoos which decorate his thick, masculine body. Your gaze is locked on his hand trailing down his abdomen, his muscles rippling as he approaches the hem of his pants. 

You shamelessly look at the bulge in his dark suit, a sight that makes your mouth water. Hunter’s lips curve into a smirk once again, noticing that you like what you see. The smug look on his face makes you throb with need once again, despite the fact that he just gave you an intense orgasm.

He hooks his thumb in the hem of his pants, watching intently for your reaction as he slowly pulls the material down to reveal the trimmed, dark hairs around the base of his thick cock.

Hunter notices the intense way you look at it and hears the whimper you just tried to suppress in your throat. He can feel your heart rate going up. It makes him smirk confidently as he goes on, finally freeing his hard, thick cock. You gulp while looking at it, as he uses the same fingers he had buried in you to cover it in your arousal. He gives it a few, firm strokes to ensure it’s nice and wet for you. The mere vision of it makes you bite your lip to muffle another impatient whimper.

Then he is on you, peeling your shirt away from your quivering body, rejoicing when he can finally touch it and worship it with his mouth. Hunter trails kisses across your collarbones and down towards your breasts. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive flesh there, before softly biting your nipples. You gasp when you feel his erection hard against your cunt. He starts to thrust his hips against yours so his cock can rub against your drenched core, getting it soaked in your juices. Your mind turns completely blank at that, heart thundering in your chest as his hands roam across your body. 

Hunter aligns himself to your entrance, groaning as his cock slowly makes its way inside of you. You admire his restraint. You know how much he probably wants to take you with one thrust, but instead he is being so gentle and careful with you, making sure that you are well-adjusted to his size.

He takes your jaw in his hand, looking deep inside your eyes as his thick cock stretches you open. You struggle to keep eye contact with him, unlike earlier when you were flirting with him. Now, your eyes only want to roll backwards. The pleasure you feel as he splits you open is overwhelming your body and senses.

You pathetically try to mumble some incoherencies, but he's quick to shut you up with a kiss. Hunter growls low in his throat when he feels your walls desperately clenching around him, as he buries himself into you to the hilt.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good," he rasps, almost desperately before giving you another wet kiss. Then, he raises his hips only to bury his cock deep inside you, making you moan into his mouth.

"How – how can you feel so fucking good?" he whimpers.

Hunter’s large hands gently cup your face, as he continues placing passionate kisses against your lips while thrusting into you. You notice his kisses become more desperate as he slowly increases the rhythm. As Hunter picks up the pace, he buries his face in your neck, panting low in your ear. 

You are certain that he can’t go any faster, before he proves you wrong. He increases the pace to a brutal rhythm, fucking you so hard you start screaming.

"So loud,” he rasps, “They're gonna hear us in the Cantina." 

"Then make me shut up," you whisper daringly.

A blaze of lust glimmers in his eyes as you lay down that challenge. Something shifts inside of him as he gives you a feral, animalistic look. Hunter quickly covers your mouth with his hand, showing you his more dominant, commanding side which makes you clamp tightly around his cock.

"Oh, you like this," he smirks, satisfied that this is precisely what you wanted all along.

You nod frantically. There is no use hiding how much this turns you on. Despite how much Hunter shows care towards you, you suspect there is something darker which lingers below the surface. You want to draw it out of him. 

"What else do you like, hm?" he coos as he wraps his other hand around your throat, lightly choking you, his thumb rubbing your throat possessively.

The sight of you, looking so vulnerable under him as he can finally dominate you makes him frantic with lust. Gone are the measured thrusts and even rhythm of before. Something feral has overtaken Hunter, a desperate need to claim you. He continues silencing your moans with one hand around your throat and one across your mouth, muffling your gasps as he wrecks you with his cock. 

Having Hunter's hand muffling your own moans gives you the opportunity to hear his desperate grunts and pants as they mix with the obscene, squelching sound his cock makes each time he thrusts into you. You close your eyes in bliss, enjoying this moment of pure pleasure. 

"Can't keep your eyes open for me, sweetheart? Look at me with those pretty fucking eyes," he growls.

You can't help but whimper at that, at how authoritative he sounds. The Sergeant of The Bad Batch is dominating the fuck out of you. You are a moaning, gasping mess beneath him, unable to think about anything other than how good being furiously pounded by him feels. 

"I didn't catch that,” Hunter rasps as he slowly lifts his hand from your mouth. He leans down to put his ear against your mouth “What were you saying, sweetheart?"

"L-let me – fuck!” you gasp, too blissed out to form words.

“Use your words,” Hunter commands, slowing his thrusts down so you can finally speak.

“Let me touch you!" you beg, unable to care about how desperate and pathetic you sound. All you can think about is roaming your hands around the warm, firm expanse of his body.

Hunter smirks, intrigued by your request, only too happy to oblige you. He grabs your hand roughly by the wrist and positions it over his abdomen. You can feel his muscles flexing and contracting under your touch as he thrusts into you. His body is as hard as iron and on fire like a damn furnace, burning with lust.

"Maker…" you whisper.

You let your hand trail up to his firm chest. You grope his pectorals, appreciating the firmness of his muscles. Your cunt clenches around his cock at the sight of your hand against his golden skin. A smirk appears on his face, enjoying what he does to you.

Your hand goes up to his broad shoulder, rubbing over it before you move your hand towards his back. You feel how his muscles strain there with each thrust as he continues pounding into you at a relentless pace. Both of your hands are now caressing his back, feeling every single dimple under your fingertips. Just as you try pulling him close, he starts to give it to you even harder. You scratch your fingernails along his back. You watch in awe as Hunter moans in your mouth at that. 

"Could–could fucking smell how much you wanted me earlier. You distracted me the whole time. Couldn't think of anything else besides how good you'd look with my cock inside of you,” he rasps in your neck before biting you, growling wildly as he does. “I was so fucking hard for you, sweetheart," Hunter grunts. 

He's so feral for you, fucking you so hard. You can't even mumble a response.

"Smell so good – so fucking good–" he whispers in your ear.

"D-don't s–stop," you mumble in your cockdrunk delirium.

"I can't, sweetheart. This cunt's all I ever wanted,” he growls, “Gonna make you mine. Mine." 

"Oh, fuck… Yes," you pant as he props himself up, kneeling in front of you without stopping that devastating rhythm for even half a second.

He looks at your body, at the way your boobs bounce with each thrust as he gives it go you even harder, holding on tight to your legs, using them as leverage to bury himself even deeper inside of you. Seeing him like this makes you remember just how badly you wanted to ride his cock earlier.

"Hunter. Hunter. I want to ride you," you whimper.

"Is that an order, Commander?"

"Y–yes. Yes. Order. S–s-sergeant," you mindlessly go on as he keeps thrusting his cock inside of you.

The thought of you bouncing on his cock makes him throb. In an instant, Hunter lifts you in his arms as if you were weightless and makes you straddle him. He sits with his back against the wall of the bunk. His hands are on your waist and you immediately start rocking your hips up and down, giving into your fantasy from earlier.

"Such a good soldier… So good at following orders," you whisper against his lips.

"Yeah… Sometimes," he smirks before gripping your hair and stealing another wet, hot kiss that makes you melt into him even further.

Your head rolls back in pleasure at the way his cock feels from this position. It's devastating, hitting something deep within you. You almost lose yourself in that feeling, but Hunter won’t allow you to. Even though you are on top of him, Hunter is quick to remind you who’s in charge as he takes your jaw in his hand.

"Eyes on me," he orders firmly.

"Yes, Sergeant," you moan. 

You swear you feel him throbbing and choke a grunt when he hears the sensual way you pronounce his title. Clearly, using his rank in this context has done something to Hunter. He moves his thumb between your lips and you suck it provocatively, never stopping yourself from meeting his gaze. Hunter’s pupils widen at the sinful way your lips envelop his finger and your tongue gently touches it. His eyes take into your sensual, precious beauty, before bringing you to him and kissing you again.

Your bodies are damp in sweat and rubbing against one another. Your nipples deliciously catch against his hairy, broad chest. You continue moaning into each other's mouths; your tongues never stop touching.

"Hunter, I'm gonna come–" you whimper.

"Hold it for me, sweetheart," he rasps in a sweet, yet dark voice, having the opposite effect from what he intended.

"Please, I want to come on your cock," you plead desperately.

"Not yet," he smirks.

Hunter grabs your hips and guides your movements so that your clit starts to rub against his pelvis. You let out a loud moan as you hold on to him tighter, digging your nails in his shoulders.

"I can't hold it!" you scream with your eyes shut.

He grabs your chin in his hand, clearly uninterested in your desperate appeals.

"Look at me," he says firmly as you open your eyes. Your vision is too blurry to focus on him but you try nonetheless.

"Now come for me, sweetheart," he rasps darkly.

You obey his order and come hard around his cock. An overwhelming, intense wave of pleasure starts at your core and completely takes over your body. You’re wrecked by uncontrollable shakes as Hunter holds you in his strong arms. You scream and pant as you ride your high. Your eyes roll backwards while Hunter focuses on how beautiful you look when you lose control. Especially when he is the one responsible for it.

Hunter feels your heart running in your chest and every single contraction of your muscles around his cock. The unmistakable, heady scent of sex that fills the Marauder drives him insane, making him burst inside of you. He grunts loudly as he fills you up with his load, holding you tight in his grasp.

You moan in each other's mouths, your forehead leaning on his as you look into each other’s eyes. You never leave each other’s gaze as you both give into the highest of pleasure.

As you come down from your high, your rhythm slows down until it stops completely. Your bodies are intertwined like vines, naked and sweaty as you catch breath in each other’s embrace.

You really do make a great team, after all.

Fanarts: Hunter's back + Shirtless Hunter by @mesvi Hello handsome by @corukant Wet Hunter by @iszapizza Hunter under the shower by @shakall Hunter and his vibroknife by @ve-ti-ver Hunter under the shower by @cloned-eyes Hunter taking off his shirt + Tech by @constant-brain-fog Hunter taking a shower by kaijurave (on twitter/x)

[angelicyoongie]

The Obsidian Pearl (II)

— pairing: mermaid seokjin x (f) reader — word count: 8.1k — warnings: yandere, descriptions of death/blood/violence, explicit sexual content! dub-con touching/oral sex (f. receiving) - the smut is marked with * if you want to skip it — summary: Sailing through The Dead Man’s Passage is a death sentence and the whole crew knows it. But with the ship’s stocks dwindling fast, your captain is left with no other choice. When a haunting melody makes the crew jump ship one by one, you find yourself alone with the demon lurking in the murky red water. As the creature beckons you to jump into the icy ocean – “come to me, pet” – you find that you can’t do anything but obey.

Part 01 - 02

It's almost night when the siren, Seokjin, visits you again.

Enough time has passed for the air to turn chilly, carrying small gusts of wind that pass right through your clothes. The sunshine that warmed you only hours ago feels like it might never return, not when your surroundings are so terribly dark. You can feel the chill deep in your bones, fear nipping at your skin, clinging to you like frost on a dark winter night. 

You're huddled as deep in the cave as you can go, hugging your knees to your chest. You're exhausted, eyes as dry as sand, but you know you can't rest. Call it instinct after being on the sea for so many years – of constantly being trapped on a vessel with people who might turn on you at any second – you tend to develop a hunch of when bad things are going to happen. 

You can feel it in your body now, the low buzz that keeps you alert, reminding you that you are not safe no matter how tired you may be. 

The reason for it comes only a few minutes later, a terrible scraping sound reverberating through the silence as something heavy is pushed up on the ledge of the stone dock. You free your stiff limbs, wincing as you whip around to face the source of it. It looks to be some sort of chest, the short distance and the faint moonlight not doing much for your vision. 

As the item is pushed forward with another forceful shove, your heart jumps to your throat. You've seen this chest before –  the iron insignia on the top is all too familiar to you. It belongs, no, belonged, to your captain. You don't dare to move closer though, not when there's only one creature who could've brought it to you. 

Seokjin emerges from the water just seconds later, heaving himself up on the rock. He looks like something out of your worst nightmare, long hair covering his face as he claws his way forward. The shadows make him look all the more terrifying, the dark night blending together with his tail and hair like the perfect camouflage. If it wasn't for his strikingly pale skin, you never would've been able to make him out at all. 

He settles back against the same rock as he did before, parting his hair to expose his face. Shivers run down your spine as Seokjin's black eyes find yours through the darkness. They strike just as much fear into you as they did last night, this morning, the emptiness just another reminder of how unearthly he really is. 

It was foolish perhaps, but you had found yourself hoping that Seokjin had forgotten about you. That he had come across another ship to terrorize and another human to keep for his little experiments. You wouldn't have minded rotting away in the cave alone if it meant you never had to look upon him again. 

The siren clicks his tongue. "I bring you a gift and you dare to look disappointed? This won't do. Come closer, little human." 

You don't move, self-preservation rooting you to the ground. 

"You humans freeze to death if you get too cold, do you not? Your skin is quite thin, fragile." Seokjin delivers his point by parting his mouth more than necessary, those horrible teeth coming to view behind his plush lips. "Your brain might be too small to remember but the water I dragged you out of was ice cold, pet. The air will only grow colder the longer you wait."  

Seokjin doesn't have to use his thrall to make you understand that you have no choice in the matter. If you don't come forward willingly, he'll will either drag you there himself or let the elements do you in. The part of your brain that fears the unknown more than the creature in front of you, urges you to move.

You don't even have it in you to feel humiliated as you crawl forward, terror and cold stiff limbs making it impossible to walk. Seokjin's stare hangs over you like a heavy cloud, slowing you down even further. 

He's close, way too close, as you kneel in front of the chest. You would be able to touch his stomach, feel where his skin transforms into scales if you just stretch your arm out.

Seokjin huffs as you linger, the sound making you jump as he impatiently says, "Go on." 

You reach for the iron key that's miraculously still in the lock, your busted shoulder aching with pain as you have to twist it with more force than usual. A small stream of water is forced out, running down the side of the chest as you slowly open the lid with shaking hands. You've never held much gratitude for your captain, but for once, you can't be more thankful for his arrogance. He always left the key in the lock and never worried about a greedy crew, because, as he would always say; who in their right mind would dare to steal from a Captain? 

You release a shuddering breath as you push it open, the iron hinges voicing their displeasure with a long squeak as the contents are revealed to you. The fur-lined coat your captain bought in the East lays on top of an array of shirts and pants, the fabric hardly even damp as you pick it up. You had assumed everything to be drenched, but it seems the carpenter your captain had been boasting about was the real deal after all. 

You pull the coat into your lap, warmth immediately swaddling your legs. 

A gift, Seokjin had called it, but you doubt the siren is simply that generous. 

"How did you get this?" You quietly ask, voice trembling.

You know the stories of how the ships make it out unscathed, of how it's only the crews that go missing. But unless Seokjin can sprout legs, there's no way he was able to grab it on his own. The siren has a tail and a heavy one at that. As unearthly as he is, you doubt he's strong enough to drag himself all the way up the ship and into your captain's quarters. Never mind that he would do all of that for a chest he didn't even know existed. 

"I sank the ship," Seokjin sounds like he's rolling his eyes, although you're not too sure he's even capable of doing so. "It took you too long to wake from your slumber and I was bored. I have not explored a wooden vessel in many moons and this chest looked interesting. I was foolishly hoping for treasure, not silly human clothes." 

The siren smacks his tail against the water, irritated. 

Even though the chances of getting out of here were slim, you were holding out hope that if you only got to the other side of the mountain, you might be able to use the ship to get away. It would be near impossible to do with only one person and not the whole crew it actually needs, but when something as ludicrous as a siren exists, manning one ship by yourself doesn't sound all that far-fetched in comparison. 

You release a shuddering breath, blinking away the tears that gather. With that escape route gone, the ship now resting on the bottom of the sea with the remains of your crewmates, you are truly helpless. 

Trapped. 

You hope the darkness hides the way your face crumples. Lip wobbling, you try to focus on the chest in front of you, not wanting to give into panic with Seokjin so close. You have to save the freakout and the despair for when you're alone. It wouldn't surprise you if the siren can smell your fear. 

Leaning forward, you notice what looks like a thick scarf, the material soft enough that it might serve as a decent pillow. You're not sure if Seokjin is planning on leaving the chest or taking it with him, so this might be your only chance at grabbing items you'll need to survive. 

Just as your fingers close around the scarf, picking it up, you feel something sharp poke into your cheek. 

Your whole body goes rigid at the touch, your muscles locking up as you realize that one of Seokjin's claws is currently digging into your skin. You hold your breath as he slowly trails it down your throat, the sharp nail leaving a sting in its wake. You don't have to touch it to know that it's a deep scratch, blood rushing to the surface to clot the damage. 

"Look at me." 

You don't. You can't. You don't want to know what will happen when you do. 

"Look at me," Seokjin repeats, more force in his voice. 

It makes something in the back of your mind tickle.

You clutch the coat in your lap tighter, focusing on the soft fur between your fingers as the siren's voice grows in annoyance.

You're not sure how many times he repeats his command but between one blink and the next, you suddenly find yourself staring right at him. Your mind feels hazy like it's been stuffed with cotton and shaken around, turning everything upside down.

The hard set of Seokjin's mouth disappears as you finally meet his gaze. The siren hums under his breath as he moves his hand to your face, cupping your jaw. It's like being a spectator in your own body, your eyes refusing to waver no matter how much you want them to. You can feel the ghost of his claws on your skin, not quite digging in but present enough that you know it's a threat. That he can mess you up beyond repair if he feels like it. 

Seokjin leans in, watching you curiously as your throat bobs, lips struggling to part. 

Your tongue feels like lead, awkward and too heavy, but you use all of your willpower to open your mouth, slurring as you ask, "What did you do?" 

Seokjin breaks into a grin, a forked tongue peeking out to lick his terrible teeth. You can feel his breath wash over your face as he speaks, the stench of decay and death making your stomach roll. "You're quite the strong one, pet, I'm glad I brought you here. I think you'll prove to be very entertaining."

The siren gives you one last look, his cold fingers leaving your face as he leans back. You feel some of the thrall leave you as Seokjin turns and slowly sinks back down into the dark water, the small distance making it a little easier to think. You still can't look away from him, eyes tracking his movements even as he submerges himself completely under the surface. He's only gone for a moment before he returns, one of his pale hands coming into view above the water just before something wet splatters at your feet.

"Eat." 

Seokjin doesn't wait for an answer. The thrall snaps the moment he's gone, his strong fin carrying him away in seconds. 

You gasp, hand shooting up to feel your throat. The scratch he left behind aches and your head is beginning to throb from whatever he did to it. You tear your eyes away from the lake, glancing down at the thing that Seokjin left you with. 

The moment you manage to make out what it is, you flinch back, jerking your body away from the mangled fish at your feet. The blood pooling beneath it has already soaked the hem of your trousers, staining it dark. 

The sight disgusts you but you can't ignore the hunger gnawing at your stomach. The water in the lake felt fresh enough to drink, but it's been almost two days without any food and you're starving.

There's not a bone in your body that trusts Seokjin but you can't turn away a free meal. You have no guarantee that he'll bring you something again and you'll have no chance of escaping if you're too weak to move. 

You poke at the fish, shuddering as its half-torn body twitches. 

If only you still had your knife. At least then one of you could be shown some mercy.

You wake with a gasp, chest heaving with panicked breaths as the fog lifts. It's like someone snaps their finger right next to your ear, violently jerking you out of a slumber you weren't even aware you had fallen into. Your awareness always comes back to your first, keeping your mind awake and trapped while the rest of your body slowly shakes off the thrall you've been under.

You're near the edge of the dock again, kneeling in front of Seokjin. The siren has his head tucked against your neck, his long tongue dragging over your skin, licking off the sweat that rolls down your throat. Every part of you feels sticky and damp, the top of your head burning from the blazing sun. You have no way of knowing how long you've been sitting here but judging by the way your brain is practically mush from the prolonged exposure, it must've been a while. 

You shudder at the next flick of his tongue, nausea swirling in your stomach. The days have been passing much in the same manner, every new turn of the moon leading you closer and closer to Seokjin. This isn't the first time you've felt his cold skin against yours, you've woken up to your hands and face being touched many times, but it's never been this intimate before. Never this dangerous, with his sharp teeth so close to your delicate skin. 

Seokjin pauses, his tongue pulling away from your skin as he muses, "That lasted shorter than expected, little human."  

There's no emotion in the siren's voice, nothing that gives you an indication of whether he's happy or angry. He's simply just... observing. Treating you like the experiment he's decided you are. The siren seems fascinated with your ability to somewhat resist his thrall and he has made it his mission to test out how well your resilience works. That seems to be the only reason he's keeping you here.

You can't quite tell how long he's been at it, though. Time feels wonky when you don't know how much of it has passed. The only thing you can be certain of is that it's already been well over a week, maybe even two since Seokjin trapped you here. 

"Please stop," You whimper, voice shaking as you feel his hot breath against your throat, teeth skimming lightly over your skin. 

To your surprise, Seokjin listens. The siren pulls back, the corner of his lip curled into a displeased snarl. He looks nothing short of irked that his fun was cut short, a series of clicking noises gurgling in his throat as he gives your shoulder a shove, breaking the last of his thrall. 

You scramble backward the second your limbs feel like they're once again attached to your body, dragging yourself into the safety and shade of the cave. Nothing is stopping Seokjin from following after you, he's strong enough to pull himself into your makeshift shelter, but he seems content to stay on the edge of the stone dock - always resting against the same flat rock. 

You sprawl out on the ground, panting from the heat. The cool stone seeps slowly through your clothes, bringing your temperature down to something that feels less like you're boiling alive in your own skin. But even as the heat begins to recede, you still feel terrible. The thrall always leaves you nauseous and the shock of snapping out of it in such close proximity to a dangerous predator doesn't exactly help. You're constantly on edge, heart locked in such a rapid beat that you're worried it's shaving years off your life. 

Biting back a groan, you sit up, using your captain's chest for support. It wasn't easy moving it into the cave, not with a shoulder that ached with every push. The fear that Seokjin might take it back if you left it was the only thing that kept you going, the clothes inside were far too precious for you to take that risk. 

The siren hasn't mentioned the chest since the night he left it but it's impossible to tell if your actions bothered him. He's too good at masking his emotions, his face a blank canvas. Some nights, you do admit that you wonder if he even has them – if he can feel the same things that you do.

You're not quite sure which answer scares you the most. 

One thing you do know though, is that you need to learn more about him. You're not one to be a sitting duck and this is driving you insane. Seokjin must have some weakness, something you can use against him or that might aid you in your escape. Perhaps he hibernates in the colder months or he needs to swim for a set amount of hours for his body to function. You refuse to believe he's invincible.

"So," You swallow thickly as Seokjin turns his lifeless eyes to you, "You mentioned that you have brothers?" 

Your voice is barely audible enough to carry over to Seokjin but it sounds much too loud within the walls of the cave. You ball your hands in your lap, hoping your expression doesn't show just how terrified you are of willingly calling upon his attention. 

"Indeed, pet." 

"How many do you have?"

The siren raises one hand to the sky, inspecting his sharp claws. "Enough." 

He obviously doesn't want to answer that topic – move on.

"Y-you said something about a sea witch. How did you find them?" 

"Now why would you want to find a sea witch, little human? Unless you want to get turned into a fish, they are of no use to you." 

"Right, o-of course," You exhale, biting back the urge to throw some colourful language his way.

You try a few more, but there are only so many meaningless questions you can ask before you give up, tired of the aloof answers you get in return. It's like he knows exactly what you're trying to do. Considering Seokjin isn't willing to disclose any type of information, even knowledge that is worthless to you, it's pretty clear that you can't bait him into revealing anything useful. 

He's too smart. 

Seokjin stretches his arms above his head, showing off his lean muscles as his back pops. The crunches sound terribly loud, like he's trying to crack open every vertebra in his spine. 

He lets out a satisfied sound, head tipped back to soak up the sun as he says, "Now that I have answered all of your questions, little human, you should give me something in return. Tell me something interesting about yourself, pet, something that you deem worthy of a meal. It is horribly tiresome to fetch your food at the time." 

You suppose it was absurd to think that the siren would continue to feed you without demanding something in return. Perhaps he's already starting to tire of his little experiments.

You pick at your nails, the splintered edges uncomfortable and raw. 

There's only one story a creature like him will find interesting – one you swore you would never tell anyone that wasn't there to witness it when it happened. But, as twisted as it is, the siren might be the only one who won't judge you. 

The faded scar on your throat burns as you swallow, the phantom pain of a knife digging into your skin flaring up as you say, "I killed someone." 

Glancing up, you find Seokjin staring straight at you, his dark eyes glittering under the sun. His tail does a small wiggle, fin smacking the water in what you can only assume to be intrigue. 

"Tell me more, pet." 

"He was sick," Your hand flies to cover your mouth as your lips move without your permission. You didn't even feel the thrall this time, no push or tug to indicate that Seokjin was in your head. There's only a small tickle at the back of your brain, like you need to scratch your scalp.

Seokjin has never used the thrall on you twice in one day before now. It must be that you're already tired from earlier that he can affect you so easily, that he can slither his way back in without you even noticing he's trying.

Seokjin grins, lips stretched into a terrible smile as he says, "Go on." 

"W-we had been out on the sea for many months, five full moons, and we still had a few to go before we would reach the nearest port," You say, taking a measured breath.

"One of our cooks starting acting strangely – he was suddenly anxious and angry, exploding at any minor inconvenience. He started picking fights with the crew, causing too much tension. It was cabin fever, we all had it, but for him, it was worse. It made him sick." 

You let your hands fall to your side, fingers uselessly grasping for the knife that isn't there anymore. 

"He attacked one of the cabin boys in the kitchen, sliced two of his fingers clean off as he delivered him a freshly caught fish. He followed the poor lad up on deck when he ran, waving his knife around and screaming at anyone that tried to calm him down. The sea... she can be brutal, too big. Staring at the same unchanging horizon every day had chipped away at his sanity, left him with nothing but fear and anger at being trapped by the same water day in and day out." 

Seokjin says nothing, his black eyes staring you down as he waits for you to continue. 

"He tackled me to the ground before I even knew what was going on. When I looked him in the eyes, I knew he wasn't there anymore. There was no recognition, no emotion. Just survival. He managed to give me this while I was trying to fight him off," You lightly touch the scar on your neck, tracing it from the bottom of your jaw down to your collarbone.

"The others couldn't pull him away either, he was like a beast. I am, was, vice-captain of the ship. It was my duty to protect my crew. I couldn't let him hurt anyone else," Your voice falters as you stare at the monster in front of you, at the creature you couldn't protect your crew from. The cook was a weak mouse in comparison. 

"So, I... I killed him. He wouldn't have made it even if we had locked him up, he was simply too far gone. It was more merciful to let him die." 

The siren is silent for a beat, his eyes roaming over your face before he tips his head forward and laughs. At least, that's what you think he does, the series of weird clicking noises that gurgle in his throat sounding oddly joyful despite how grating the sound is. 

"You truly are fascinating, pet. I made a good choice letting you live." 

The hand by your hip clenches, your heart beating painfully in your chest. You wish you still had your knife, that you had something you could drive into Seokjin's throat to hear him choke on his last breaths. You weren't expecting sympathy, but you also didn't think he would find your story entertaining – funny, even. He truly is terrible.

You say nothing in return, your anger making it hard to think; to feel anything but the hatred stirring in your heart.

Seokjin, seemingly pleased with what he heard and not at all bothered by your silence, does what he always does and leaves the moment he gets what he wants.

You stare at the empty spot he left, the wet imprint of his long body the only thing left behind. 

You're not sure how long you sit there, caught up in old memories and emotions you've tried to ignore for so long, but the sun has started its descent by the time the siren makes his presence known again. 

This time, you watch as Seokjin leaves you not one, but five fish, all half mangled and twitching as the life drains out of them. He flings a few pieces of driftwood up on the dock, staring at your curled-up form for a minute before he swims away. 

It's only when your stomach starts to rumble that you force yourself to rise to your feet, walking slowly over to the haul the siren brought you. The wood is wet and soggy, but a few days out in the sun should hopefully dry it enough that it might be used to start a fire. 

You let out a humorless chuckle as you drag your hands across your face. You truly are little more than a mutt, waiting for your master to reward you when you do something he finds amusing. How embarrassing. How weak. 

No matter how rabid you feel, you know that biting the hand that feeds you will do you no good here. If you want to survive, to live, perhaps it's time to roll over and accept your fate. 

You're not sure if you're getting better at resisting the thrall or if Seokjin just isn't bothering to use it at full force anymore, but you no longer blackout when he comes to visit you. It feels like you're in a dream, vision spotty as you watch yourself move forward on unsteady feet, falling right into Seokjin's waiting arms. The siren holds you close to his chest, arms squeezing you so hard the pain registers even through the haze. 

Weeks have passed since the day you told Seokjin your story, since you slowly began to surrender to your situation. The siren still follows the same routine but he seems to have sensed your compliance – your defeat. Your mind is still blocked off, barred from taking control of your body, but now you're able to feel everything that was only a dull memory before. Perhaps the darkness, the blissful ignorance, was a small mercy compared to this. 

Seokjin lets out a guttural sound as he pushes his face into your neck, his sharp claws slicing through your shirt. His tongue drags over your skin with a desperation you haven't felt before, teeth nicking your skin.

As terrible as it is, you've grown used to Seokjin's touches, his presence. On lonely nights, you find that you almost wish to see him, just so that you don't have to face the darkness all alone.

You have come to know what to expect from Seokjin but this is new, dangerous, a far cry from the stoic and in-control creature you've been around for the past months.

The siren's hold on you is crushing, your bones aching under the strong pressure. He skims his nose along your skin, huffing as he breathes in your scent. There's a pause, a stretch of heavy silence, and then blinding pain as sharp teeth sink into your already injured shoulder.

Your vision whites out, ears ringing as the thrall suddenly snaps and everything comes rushing in at once. Your shoulder is spasming, muscles jerking with agony as Seokjin digs his teeth in deeper, an animalistic sound tearing from his throat as he draws blood. 

It hurts. Gods, it hurts.

A wounded scream rips from your throat as you attempt to claw at his face, desperate to get his teeth out of your shoulder. Seokjin growls as you deliver a deep scratch on his cheek, pulling back just a smidge to create the sound. Seeing an opening, you tangle your hand in his long hair, jerking it back with all your might. You're lucky Seokjin doesn't tear a chunk of your shoulder out as his head snaps back, surprise making his tight grip around you lessen. It's just enough for you to fight your way out of his embrace, body shaking with fear and adrenaline as you roll onto the stone. 

Grabbing your shoulder, you try to scoot backward on the slick ground, your own blood making it hard to get enough friction.

Your legs falter as Seokjin turns in your direction, the siren looking like he crawled right out of hell. His expression is crazed, hungry, blood dripping from his unhinged jaw. You can see straight down his throat from how open his mouth is, his stained teeth and black eyes creating the perfect picture of a demon. 

Seokjin hisses as you attempt to move, a horrible sound that makes every strand of hair on your body stand straight. He digs his claws into the rock in front of him, using his strong arms to drag himself forward. 

"Come here, pet," Seokjin gurgles, his voice hardly even human.

"No no, please don't," You whimper, a newfound urgency propelling you back.

Something in the siren's expression flickers at your broken pleading, like he can't decide if his hunger or entertainment is more important. The confusion, the small sliver of hope it gives you, only lasts for a few seconds before he shakes himself out of it, Seokjin's clawed hand reaching out for your ankle. 

Just as he's about to wrap his hand around your foot, your feeble kicks doing little to deter him, you both hear the distant sound of people. 

It must be another crew daring to brave the mountains, their rambunctious singing and laughter so terribly out of place. They're either obvious to the stories haunting the pass or trying to compensate for the oppressive silence they no doubt felt the moment the ship entered it. Your heart flutters with longing at the sound of humans singing and laughing, your chest constricting with a yearning you thought died weeks ago. They sound happy and lively – everything the siren is not. 

You watch as the same realization hits Seokjin, as he registers the sound of food entering his territory. The siren's jaw pops back to normal as he licks his lips, his empty eyes flickering up to the darkening sun as he says, "The ocean appears to be smiling kindly on you tonight, little human." 

Frozen to the spot, you feel your heart drop to your stomach as the siren twists around and dives back into the water with an urgency you haven't seen from him before.

The moment he's out of sight you let out an ugly sob, hope draining out of you alongside the blood that runs down your arm. You tear at the sliced fabric that's barely holding on to your body, wrapping it around your wound with shaking fingers. It's a poor excuse for a bandage, the material soaked through in seconds, but you still tighten it as much as you can, hoping it'll be enough to stop the bleeding. Only left with your undershirt, you can feel the shivers begin to set in, your adrenaline crashing. 

You had given up hope on being rescued a long time ago but to have it this close, just on the other side of the mountain, is torture. You can't even alert the unsuspecting crew of what's coming, of the deadly creature that's lurking below their ship. 

Scream, scare them off.

Just as the futile thought strikes you, you hear it – him. The gentle hums that cause a hush to fall over the ship.

You cover your ears, not wanting to hear what comes next. You don't know if Seokjin's thrall can still affect you here but you'd rather not take the chance and risk waking up at the bottom of the lake. Closing your eyes, you try to pretend that none of this is real, that all of this is just a terrible, terrible dream.

You let out a weak sob as the first scream pierces the air. Their terrified yells echo between the mountains as they're forced to jump one by one, their final moments brutal and panicked. There's no gentleness in Seokjin's song this time, only urgency as he compels them to their deaths. 

He was starving.

For some unfathomable reason, the siren must have been starving himself to the point of breaking, trying to withhold from killing you. It all adds up to why he was acting so out of character over the past few days, his behavior more erratic than normal. He had been trying to fight off the urge to eat you. 

If the ship hadn't arrived when it did, if it had only been one second too late, you would've been dead by now. 

You curl up into a small ball, body cold and numb to the pain as your shield your ears, wrapping your arms securely around your head. "Thank you," You whisper to the faint moon, guilt twisting your stomach into knots. 

Tears drip down your face as the screams continue to reverberate into the night, choked apologies passing through your lips until you feel them going slack. You don't fight the darkness that pulls you under, your soul begging for rest, for a place the screams of Seokjin's massacre can't reach you. 

You jolt as a cold hand wraps around your shin. 

Eyes flying open, you manage to push yourself up on your elbows before your shoulder gives out, the movement sending a sharp pain all the way down to your fingers. You grit your teeth, breathing through your nose to steady yourself as you glance up at Seokjin.

The siren wraps his hand tighter around your leg, using it for leverage as he drags himself up on the rock. You were close to the mouth of the cave when you passed out but now you're almost at the edge of the dock, feet only a few steps away from the still water below. Seokjin's thrall must've been too strong, urging you to come closer even when you were unconscious. 

Perhaps you have truly lost your mind or maybe the night is playing tricks on you, but for once, there's actual emotion on Seokjin's face. The siren grins, his black eyes ablaze with something as he pushes forward. He tugs your legs apart, fitting his body between them. His hands rest on either side of your ribcage, his face so close that you can practically taste the stench of death that washes over your lips with every breath. The water cascading from his skin makes you shiver as it hits your own, the droplets soaking through your undershirt in seconds. 

"Pet," Seokjin purrs, inching his face closer.

You hold your breath, limbs frozen with fear, as the small distance between you disappears. 

You can only watch and you're horrified to find that the first thought that strikes you is how mesmerizing the siren looks. The moon shines brightly behind him, giving the scales climbing up his stomach and the small patches on his arms an iridescent shine. It's no wonder sirens have been described as beautiful creatures, not with how Seokjin's pale skin is illuminated, practically glowing, under the night sky.

You see his head tilt down, his dark eyes roaming over your bandaged shoulder. The wound only seems to ache more under the pressure of his gaze.

"Good work, little human," Seokjin comments, pleased, "You patched yourself up just to stay with me longer. I am not cruel, I will reward you for this." 

What a good dog you are, licking your wounds for your master just so that he can tear them open again.

Your legs twitch on each side of Seokjin's body, resisting the urge to kick at his tail. Angering him will do you no good and you're ashamed to admit that the spark of excitement in his features leaves you curious – makes you want to know just what a siren considers a reward. 

Seokjin ducks his head lower, pressing his nose right against your throat. The sharp bite you're expecting never comes – instead, there's only the soft press of his lips roaming over your skin, hurried kisses scattered across your neck. He lowers himself to get more access, nudging your head back as he settles more of his weight on your body. It leaves your hips completely immobile, your arms trembling with the effort it takes to keep yourself raised off the ground. 

You hold your breath, scared to move as much as a muscle. 

The siren's tongue flicks out to taste your skin with every kiss, leaving a trail of saliva covering your neck. The cold air only heightens the contrast between his warm lips and the slick skin he leaves behind. You're caught off guard when he suddenly attaches his lips to the underside of your jaw and sucks, pulling the sensitive skin there between his lips.

You let out a startled gasp at the sensation, small shudders traveling down your spine as your reaction only seems to spur Seokjin on, the siren quickly finding more spots to mark up. 

Your whimper, surprised, as he uses a claw to slice through the bottom of your undershirt, exposing your waist and stomach. His cold hand finds the exposed area immediately, rubbing and squeezing at your skin as he drags his hand up and down your waist. He somehow manages to keep his claws off your skin, only digging them in faintly whenever you grow too quiet. He seems to enjoy the involuntary sounds you make, his actions only growing more and more frenzied as he tries to pull more of them from you. 

"Touch me," Seokjin growls against your throat, his voice half strangled as he pushes you down to lie flat on the ground.

Mindful of your aching shoulder, you raise a tentative, shaking hand up towards his arm, grasping his toned bicep. You can feel the power thrumming under his skin, how strong he is from that simple touch alone.

Seokjin is quiet as you slowly glide your fingers up his arm and over his shoulder, feeling how the texture keeps switching between soft skin and hard scales whenever you encounter a small gathering of them. It's a curious feeling, one your brain struggles to fully comprehend.

You continue your touch down his back, careful to steer clear of the fin that protrudes along his spine. He lets out a harsh breath, low clicks gurgling in his throat as you let your hand fall away, not daring to go further than his waist.

You glance up as he pulls back, breath stuttering in your chest as you take in how wild he looks. Seokjin's expression is hungry, but it's nothing like the empty, ravenous stare you saw before he tried to take a chunk out of your shoulder. No, this one is pure desire – lust. 

Your stomach flips with disgust as you realize that the hunt, that killing that innocent crew, actually turned him on. 

Seokjin pushes himself back, emerging his lower body in the lake before he wraps his arms around your knees and pulls. You slide across the rock, thighs meeting Seokjin's torso as your legs fall over the edge of the dock, the water hitting just above your ankles. 

You cry out from the harsh yank, pain flaring up in your shoulder as the still-open wounds are dragged across the uneven surface. The bandage does little to lessen the burn of it, your vision growing spotty as you struggle to breathe. 

"You humans are so weak," Seokjin scoffs, his voice swimming in your ears. *

The siren tugs at your trousers, annoyed at how the fabric doesn't budge. He uses his claws, meeting no resistance as he slices right through them the moment it takes a little too long to get them off.

You jerk as Seokjin settles his hands on your exposed thighs, mapping out your skin.

Your vision begins to clear as you get your breathing under control, heat creeping up the back of your neck as you register just what the siren is looking at. Seokjin's torso is blocking you from closing your legs, exposing everything to him. 

His dark eyes never waver from your cunt, in fact, you're not so sure he even blinks as he watches you squirm. 

"Be still, pet," Seokjin says, the points of his claws pricking into your delicate flesh to get his warning across. He squeezes your thighs, his forked tongue swiping across his lips, "I was right. Your thighs do look delectable." 

Horrified, you feel your hole pulse with arousal at Seokjin's words, wetness slicking up your folds. 

The siren makes a curious sound at the sight, one hand drifting closer to your cunt as he lowers his head. You tense up, muscles locked tight, as Seokjin runs his finger over your clit. A choked moan makes it past your lips as he begins to rub at it, eyes bright as he lightly pinches your nub.

Receiving pleasure from the creature that has trapped and hurt you is the last thing that you want, but it's been so long since you've been intimate with someone like this. Your body gives in easier than your mind, eager to feel any touch as long as it'll make you feel good.

It's a reward, just take it. Who knows if you'll ever get to feel like this again.

"You're so wet, little human," Seokjin comments as he drags a finger up and down your folds, spreading your arousal around. 

"You can't– no, no claws," You hurriedly say as you feel his knuckle graze your hole, stopping Seokjin in his tracks. "We-we're fragile, remember?" 

The siren purses his lips, contemplating the information as he moves his hand back to your thigh. Arms curl under your knees before you can even breathe a sigh of relief, the air being punched right out of you as Seokjin dips his head down to lick a stripe between your folds. 

"Oh Gods," You gasp, fingers clawing at the stone below you as the siren's forked tongue flicks over your clit with every pass, making your clenching hole gush with slickness.

You let out a broken moan as Seokjin prods his tongue at your entrance, black eyes flickering up to meet yours just as he pushes it inside. 

Seokjin has lowered his body even more into the water, leaving him at the perfect height to feast on your cunt. His tongue worms his way into your hole, the wet muscle reaching deeper than what should be possible. Your veins feel like they're on fire, your body burning up with arousal as Seokjin licks and sucks at your folds, nose bumping against your clit. You can't stop yourself from grinding against his face, hips twitching with the little leeway he gives you. 

"Seok-seokjin," Your hand flies down to his head at a particularly harsh suck, his teeth skimming over your delicate heat. The mixture of fear and pleasure leaves you lightheaded, your heart beating erratically in your chest. 

The siren growls as your fingers curl into his long hair, the sound vibrating against your skin as you tug at his locks. You can't tell if you're trying to pull him away or press him closer, but either way, Seokjin doesn't listen. 

You keen as his movements only seem to grow more frenzied, the siren drunk on your taste as he continues to lap up your slick. His grip around your legs is bruising, locking you in place to let him use you as he pleases. You continue to whimper out his name, your little cries only spurring him on further.

The white-hot pleasure in your stomach only continues to build the longer Seokjin eats you out, the pleasure mounting so quickly you don't know what to do with yourself. 

You don't want this but you also do – and those conflicting emotions only intensify every suck and lick from Seokjin.

"Good pet," The siren groans, his warm breath fanning across your folds. 

You finally erupt as he attaches his lips to your clit and sucks, your orgasm ripping through you so violently you almost feel like you're going to pass out. Your back bows off the ground as you let out a loud moan, your knuckles white from the tight grip you have on Seokjin's hair. You ride out the waves of pleasure that seem to hit you over and over, the siren lapping up your essence like a starving man – like he's never tasted anything as good before.

Your legs are trembling with oversensitivity once you come back to yourself, your cunt clenching helplessly around Seokjin's tongue as he keeps trying to lick up more of your slick. You hastily remove your fingers from his hair, weakly pushing at his head to make him back away. 

"Stop, it's too much," You whimper.

Seokjin makes a displeased sound in the back of his throat, tongue dragging through your folds one last time before he pulls back. There's something in the siren's gaze that looks even more predatory than it's ever done before, his plush lips slick with your wetness. *

"You did well, little human. It was about time you gave yourself to me," Seokjin says as he brings his hands to your hips, the corner of his mouth quirked. 

"What do you mean?" You say, voice faltering, "You told me to touch you, you made me touch you – made me enjoy this." 

The siren tsks, shaking his head as he pushes you down on the stone dock, fingers gliding over your stomach. "Did you feel me using my thrall, little human? You touched me because you wanted to, you gave in because you wanted to feel good. This was all you, pet." 

"No, that's not..." You trail off, biting the inside of your cheek. You didn't feel the ticklish sensation that usually comes with Seokjin's thrall when he asked you to touch him. You don't feel sick now, not like you always do whenever you snap out of it.

You... You did all of this on your own volition. 

Seokjin sees as the realization dawns on your face, the blooming devastation making his fin hit the surface with excitement. 

"That's right," He murmurs silkily, "Accept the fate that the sea has bestowed on you, pet. You were made to be my little plaything." 

You feel Seokjin move away as you stare mindlessly up at the twinkling stars. You pull your aching legs together the moment he's gone, bringing them up to your chest. Without the siren's body shielding you from the frigid night air, you just feel cold. So awfully cold. 

Just accept your fate.

You hear the water move as the siren ducks under the surface. The lake ripples as he swims, only a few flaps of his tail bringing him up on the side of the dock, where your head has turned. His dark eyes burn holes into your face as he drops something on the stone in front of you, the metal clinking as it bounces off the surface. 

Heart stuttering in your chest, you reach out and snatch up your old knife, your shoulder burning as you put pressure on it. Your eyes grow wet as you turn it around in your hand, the familiar weight and polished grain of the wooden handle the closest thing you have to anything that feels like home.

You thought you had lost your knife forever when you jumped off the ship, that it was sacrificed to the sea together with your crew and vessel.

The siren's face is unreadable as you glance up at him, expression flat as always. One thing is for sure though – there's no part of Seokjin that views you as a threat, that's concerned you'll use your knife against him. 

It breaks your heart to know that he's right. Even if you kill him, you have no way to get out of here.

Seokjin's pale hand emerges from the water to place something delicately on the edge of the dock. You let out a small gasp as he removes his fingers, the round sphere beautiful as it reflects the stars shining above. It looks to be a massive pearl made out of obsidian, the surface glossy and smooth. 

You lay your knife down, meeting Seokjin's burning stare as you bring your trembling fingers forward to pick it up. The pearl is heavy in your palm, your hand barely even managing to close around the size of it.

The moment you pick it up, Seokjin lets out a pleased chitter, his mouth showing off that terrible smile again as he says, "You've proven to be a fascinating pet, I don't think I'll tire of you just yet."

"You're mine now, little human." 

a/n: i really hope you enjoyed the final chapter of TOP! writing mer!seokjin was a nice break from my usual stories and it was fun to revisit the tcs-universe. i would love to hear what you think about the chapter – comments and reblogs make my day!! 🥺💖

if you enjoyed the story and would like to support me, you can do so here! 💖

[clare-875]

Despair (Sanji x Reader)

_____ Pairing: Sanji x Reader Summary: You start to skip meals, doubting yourself and your image. Sanji doesn't notice until it's too late. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Body image, Comparing yourself to others, Not eating enough (TW: eating disorder), Passing Out Notes: The above image does NOT belong to me, Female Reader [One Piece Masterlist] _____

You prod at the food that lies on your plate absentmindedly, telling yourself to eat. It looks delicious; of course it does. Sanji's food was to die for, and you felt your heart sink at your thoughts to not eat what he has poured heart and soul into. But then again, your thoughts haven't been nice to you recently. You have found yourself comparing your image with Nami and Robin and all the other women you come across and you feel buried insecurities rising because of it. You know it's ridiculous; that you should really just embrace yourself and just deal with it. But you can't just deal with it. It's been running your mind rampant. I'm not pretty enough. I should work out more. Why can't I look like her? I should really start watching what I eat. You know the last thought is the most ridiculous; Sanji makes his meals to cater to every necessity your body could need. But you have tried everything, and the beautiful figures of your female companions are overwhelming. What if he realizes... I can never look like them. Will his eyes wonder? Will he leave me?

"Love, is everything alright?"

Your gaze snaps upward at your boyfriend's voice and he looks to you with deep concern in his eyes. The cook eyes you questioningly before looking at your untouched plate of food. "Is the food not to your liking? I could make you something else if you-" You quickly cut off his words, not wanting him to question the meal you know he has prepared so intricately for you and the crew. "No, no, I was just thinking. Thank you Sanji, it looks lovely." You try to undo his concern and make your lips quirk upwards, but you know what you produce is a half-hearted smile. Sanji looks at you, the furrow of his brows not giving way. However, as he goes to ask you something, he is interrupted by the voices of the crew. "Sanji! Another!" Luffy has his now empty plate high in the air, craving more of the meal, Ussop and Chopper doing the same next to him with wide grins on their faces. It has the cook rolling his eyes but he stops when Nami joins the fray. "I wouldn't mind some more too Sanji-kun!" Robin nods along, a soft smile on her face. "Me too!" The cook turns hesitantly from your side then, going to fetch their plates. "R-right, straight away ladies!"

He leaves you to your thoughts again.

In his distraction, you push your plate to Luffy who sits near you. "Here Luffy, take mine, I'm not feeling that hungry." Your Captain turns to you, eyes gleaming as he ponders your words. "Really?" But he has already taken the meal outstretched to him. "Thanks [y/n]!" You find yourself standing as he devours your meal in an instant, and hope Sanji doesn't notice it wasn't you who ate it. Robin perks up at your sudden movements. "Is everything alright, [y/n]?" You freeze as you turn to her, and you are met with her kind smile, the concern in her eyes. But you also see all that you cannot be. It is insufferable: your jealousy. It makes you loathe the depths of yourself and so you force it away and nod. "Yeah, I'm just turning in." You try to ease her concern and you don't know if she believes your words, but you move before she can question you further. You leave the rowdy crew to their dinner and open the kitchen door, not seeing how Sanji turns in surprise at your sudden absence.

You breathe in the crisp evening air, not noticing how desperately you needed it until it hits your face. A single tear slips from your eye but you catch it quickly, shaking your head. What's wrong with me? You move across the ship to the bathroom, hoping that a bath might help wash away your suddenly erratic thoughts. However, when you strip yourself of your clothes, you realise it is a mistake; there are mirrors. Your lips turn downward as you look at yourself realizing how impossible it would be to look like Nami and Robin. How impossible it would be to contort yourself to that image: pretty eyes, perfect smile, lack of waists and slim figures but still with curves where you needed them to be. How do they do it? Your thoughts then turn to how Sanji's face looked as they asked for seconds of his meal. He seemed so happy to cater for the beautiful women; of course, he would be. How long until his thoughts drift away from you? You turn away quickly and continue your tasks until you're wrapped in a towel again, hating your envy and hoping sleep might control it.

However, your insecurities can't disappear that easily.

Your thoughts mingled the rest of the week, and because of it, you found yourself eating less. You found yourself pushing meals to Luffy when Sanji was distracted, desperately hoping he didn't notice. You worked out more, glad that Zoro said nothing when he saw you more frequently in the crow's nest. You slowly started to slip into the rhythm. Skip breakfast, work out, a little lunch, work out, skip dinner. It was becoming easier to ignore your hunger, you told yourself you were seeing progress. You could never hate the beautiful women around you for your sudden revelations, you saw it as your own problem. You told yourself it was for the best. However, what you failed to see was that among your suddenly obsessive thoughts, you have slowly started to neglect your health, and on top of that, you have slowly started to neglect Sanji.

The cook had barely seen you the past week, and he missed you. What hours you would usually spend by his side you now spend in the crow's nest and he wanted your presence by him again. You used to always be in the kitchen as he prepared meals; his personal taste tester always gifting him compliments that made his heart soar. You would always share stories as he chopped and mixed, and he would be blessed by the soft sound of your voice. You would dry dishes you insisted on drying as he passed them to you, and he would hear your sweet laughter at something that had happened earlier in the day; he would have to struggle not to swoon just by the sound of it. You used to hold him gently as he cooked the crew's meals and he would feel your warmth make his heart stutter, make him want to create even better dishes just as a thank you for being his; for being you. Your fleeting touches, your pretty smile, your gleaming eyes, your perfect figure that melds into his; they were all suddenly taken from him and he didn't know why.

Sanji had tried to approach you several times but you had evaded him. "Sorry, Sanji I'm too busy right now." "Sorry Sanji, maybe another time." "Sorry Sanji, I think I'm gonna go to the crow's nest again." Sanji's lips downturned at the thought. Had he done something wrong? His fingers flicked on his lighter as he pulled out another cigarette; he had been going through them like lollipops recently. His heart twisted in slight envy as he thought of you in the crow's nest again, no doubt with the stupid marimo nearby. How had Zoro of all people seen you more than he had? It took all his strength not to (for no reason) go beat up the green-haired swordsman. His thoughts then lingered on an event he had considered over and over; the night when your smile didn't shine as it should as you poked and prodded your food. Of course, Sanji noticed the unusual despair on your face; he was basically a professional at catching on women's true emotions.

Had something happened? Had someone done something?

As Sanji thought on and continued to blow on his cigarette he finally considered something he had yet to acknowledge. Now that he had thought about it, he hadn't seen you much during meal times with the crew. You would either pop your head in for a brief while, leave quickly, or barely even show up at all. Sanji raked his brain harder for answers. He had thought he'd seen you slip something to Luffy during those times, but could it be your meals? He had seen your fleeting figure and he had seen how your eyes had seemed duller, your face a bit paler, your figure a bit more littered with exhaustion. But it couldn't be, could it? Were you skipping meals? He then thought of how your eyes seemed to sadden at the last island you and the crew had gone to. They were saddened by the presence of the women on the island; known for their beauty and charm. And, of course, they were beautiful, but they weren't you. Sanji had toned down his woman-crazed ways the instant he understood what his feelings for you meant. Had he let slip? Had you misinterpreted his care for flirt? Was it all his fault?

"Sanji-kun!"

He snapped out of contemplation as he registered Nami's worried voice as she ran to him quickly. "Nami-san? What's wrong?" Sanji feels his already racing heart pick up pace as the navigator frowns before spilling the words that has her rushing to him. "[y/n]... she passed out. She's with Chopper."

......

When you finally reopen your eyes, you are lost for a moment, not knowing what happened. But then, your memories start to flood back in. That's right, you think to yourself. You had finished your workout again, but something hadn't felt right. As you descended from the crow's nest and went to rest you had suddenly felt dreadful. Cold sweat had started to seep from your skin, your vision had slowly become clouded by spots and you had felt nausea wash over you quickly. You had stumbled, luckily Nami had been walking past as you did. You had felt her arms, heard her muffled voice in the ringing of your ears - something about staying awake - before the darkness had pulled you in. You sigh looking at the tube ingrained in your arm with despondency, before registering a warmth around your hand. You instantly look down to see that it was Sanji, and he had also just realised that you were awake. Your heart beats faster, shame befalls you, but he speaks first.

"Love... what happened? Chopper said you were malnourished..."

Your heart twists as you look at the cook who has utter concern and sadness and determination in his eyes. Why? "Love, please... talk to me." Sanji's voice sounds desperate for answers already lingering from Chopper's diagnosis, but he needed to hear it all from you. You let the silence remain for a moment to try and control your emotions, but your tears let slip and Sanji's eyes widen at the sight. "I-I'm sorry Sanji. I just- I just haven't been feeling like myself and- and I just wanted to feel better. I skipped meals and I guess I trained too hard. I-" You swallow harshly as you look at the man who squeezes your hand in comfort despite your despair causing his heart to ache. "I just wanted to be good enough, I didn't want you to realise that I'm not as pretty as-" You pause as you tear your eyes away from Sanji. "I just didn't want you to leave me." Sanji can't even describe the amount of disbelief that filled him at your words. You were scared that he would leave you?

"Love... How could I ever- What made you think- It's all my fault."

Your gaze snaps upward at his remark as you shake your head about to retort but he continues on. "I'm sorry love. I should've noticed sooner." Sanji feels his heartbreak for you as his lover, but failure seeps in as the cook of the crew. How can he dream of being a renowned chef, when he can't even notice his own partner, clearly having skipped and pushed away his meals. It was his job to make sure all the crew were fed and nourished perfectly, and he had failed to do that with the one person he cared about most in the world. What's more, he hadn't even noticed your insecurities; he had let you wither and deal with your pain alone. He grits his teeth. "[y/n]." Your heart jumps slightly at the sheer will in his eyes. "Believe me. You are beautiful, perfect, you are the only woman for me. Please, let me be there for you, let me help you..." He holds your hand up in his but you eye him hesitantly and so he continues. He presses his lips to your hand and you feel the heat rise to your cheeks; missing the intimate moments you have traded because of your irrational fears.

"I could never love someone else."

Your eyes glisten with his care and you squeeze his hand gently before peering into his gaze. "I'm sorry Sanji, I didn't eat your meals. I- I've been so distracted I haven't even come to see you... I missed you." Sanji's lips quirk upward then into his kind, warm smile.

"I missed you too, love."

In the following days that passed, you made up for the lost time with Sanji. In his kitchen, you went back to your usual routines and he swooned at your presence, also back to his normal self. Almost all the crew, except for those forever oblivious, let out a collective sigh of relief at the sight of the both of you together and back to your usual ways. Nevertheless, even as insecurities may bubble and rise within you from time to time, you didn't find yourself contesting your beauty or his love for you again; more like Sanji wouldn't let you. Each time he saw your eyes wonder, he held you closer. Each time he witnessed your thoughts drift away he brought you back to him. Each time you considered your self-worth, he would be there to reassure you of your beauty, and his adoration; all almost painfully obvious in the way he basically screamed of his love for you each passing day. He never wanted that look of despair in your eyes again, and so he made sure he didn't.

You looked at your boyfriend, the loving, doting, devoted chef of the crew and you didn't doubt him; you didn't doubt his words. You accepted yourself and you accepted his love, letting despair dwindle away; relishing the brighter days that lay ahead.

[cillsworld]

My devotion to you✧₊⁺

₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊

Ship|Jonathan Crane x fem!reader

Summary|you fall for your corrupt psychiatrist and he takes advantage of that.

Word Count|2765

Warnings|smut(18+!), age gap, abuse of power?, mentions of violent acts, oral(m rec!), rough sex, forced breeding!, baby trapping, (very) mild use of fear gas, mentions of drugs.

Notes|Jonathan is canonically 26 and reader is 18, reader is horny asf which is so real honestly like girl is down baddddddd. Also this is my second fic/piece of writing ever so that's cool, honestly it's a bit repetitive but I don't hate it sooo enjoy!

masterlist

You had always been an aggressive individual, constantly getting into fights both verbal and physical, being a headache to your parents, teachers, fellow peers and sometimes even the police.

Their last straw was when you beat a girl to unconsciousness for whatever irrational reason your brain had come up with and decided that you needed to be confined in a nut-house in order to change.

The first few days you were here, you were kept in solitary confinement with a straight-jacket to contain you from scratching your own eyeballs out, if you weren't insane before, that experience surely confirmed it.

But your disdain for the asylum went away as soon as your first session with Dr. Crane started, in high-school you were never big on crushes or boys really, since they all looked like wet rats and you couldn't bring yourself to be attracted to them.

That all changed when you saw the man that was meant to be your psychiatrist, Dr. Crane was the only thing keeping your remaining sanity intact, the man was so breathtakingly beautiful that all you ever did in your free-time was fantasize about him and count down the minutes to when you'd get to see him again.

Each session would consist of your failed attempts to flirt with him while he tried to bring your attention back towards the topic at hand, he was also the only psychiatrist you hadn't been violent against, that's why he was the one who actually stayed, just like you wanted him to.

So here you were, a smile present on your face as he walked into the room where you sat, confined by a straight jacked but nonetheless excited to see him, "you look unusually giddy today, what's the occasion?" He questioned while taking a seat across from you, looking down at the clipboard in-hand as he adjusted his glasses.

"I'm getting to see you after a whole week!" You responded with a giggle, leaning over the desk a bit as you usually did to get a better look at him, he looked back up with a raised eyebrow and sighed.

"Maybe if you didn't attack that man in the cafeteria, you wouldn't have been kept in solitary for a week and you would be able to see me earlier" he spoke with that usual stern tone of his, his words making you frown immediately, he looked and sounded so upset with you that you wanted to cry on the spot.

"He took my apple! What else was I supposed to do?" You retorted defensively almost immediately, jumping up a bit, all he did was stare at you, with that look that he knew would make you contemplate everything you just did, you calmed down and slumped back in your chair with that cute, conflicted look on your face.

"I'm sorry for yelling doctor Crane, are you mad at me?" You questioned quietly, your voice going soft and barely above a whisper, he swallowed with pursed lips before looking back down at his clipboard, writing something down that you tried to peer over to get a look at.

"No.. No, I'm not mad" he responded dismissively with a shake of his head, "but I have to say, this session isn't starting quite the way I had hoped" he continued making your expression falter, looking back up at you, "don't you think you've given me enough trouble for the week?"

"I gave you trouble doctor Crane?" You questioned with confusion lacing your voice and expression, leaning over the table with furrowed eyebrows, hugging yourself tighter then you were being forced to.

"Yes. I wasn't going to tell you but your little outburst caused me a lot of trouble with my seniors, they think I'm not making progress with you fast enough and they should give you to someone else" you immediately opened your mouth to protest when he said that but a raise of his hand signaling you to keep quiet was enough to make you shut yourself up.

"Now, I'm going to need you to be well-behaved for this session or I might as well hand you over" he threatened, almost daring you to challenge his words, "so.. Are you going to be good for me today?"

God why'd he have to word it like that, you quickly nodded while absentmindedly rubbing your thighs together, "yes I will Doctor Crane, I promise!" You responded, perking up and he nodded muttering a small "good", almost smirking at your compliance of anything he says in response to the simplest threat of being away from him.

“Now, I want you to tell m-“ you couldn’t help but cut him off, at this point it was a habit of yours and a casual occurrence, “what’s in that box doctor crane?” You questioned with a tilted head, nodding towards the briefcase that he’d brought in for the first time.

Usually your interruption would annoy him but this time it caused a rush of excitement in him, “I’m glad you asked darling..” your face heated up at the nickname that he called you rarely, every time he had said it, it had caught you off guard.

He opened the little black briefcase and as soon as he did the air felt different, heavy, your heartbeat had started to rapidly increase and every inch of your skin was becoming sweaty and clammy as anxiety filled you and your brain went panic mode.

”What’s in there doctor Crane?” You continued with the questioning now looking as if you were incredibly sick, your skin pale and flushed, “this, is a special creation of mine.. it’s what I use to keep extreme cases in line..”

His voice gradually became more raspy and deeper as he talked about it, looking into the briefcase with so much admiration that you almost wished you were it.

“I don’t like it..” you mumbled weakly as he brought it closer to you, instinctively leaning back as he did so, your vision going a bit blurry as your stared down into it, Crane on the other hand scoffed at your words.

“You aren’t supposed to like it" he replied in an almost snappy tone, closing it shut as he did so, "my dear, I need you to understand that if you keep misbehaving as you have recently.."

"I won't hesitate to give you an actually proper dose of what is in here" he patted the case as if to emphasize his point and you let out a soft gasp, "why would you do that doctor crane? I said I was sorry.." Your voice shaky and quiet, starting to understand why those patients you'd overhear would always talk of Crane as if he was the devil.

"You're already scared?" The way he said your name had a mocking undertone in it that you hadn't yet heard from him, "I said if you misbehave" he felt like a broken record, constantly repeating the same things and not getting much progress in return and frankly it was starting to annoy him too much for your own good.

He saw that sense of relief wash over you at his words, he couldn't help but want to ruin that peace and bring back the look in your eyes that sent his heart racing, "or.. I could give you a demo right now?"

"No-" you cut him off quickly, "that.. That's not necessary" you couldn't quite put a pin on the look in his eyes, was it amusement? Excitement? Either way it gave you a rush of adrenaline you enjoyed.

"are you sure about that? because I have an inkling that you'll get me in trouble yet again, if you don't learn that your actions have consequences" he was so serious, more then usual, while speaking that you couldn't even try to trick yourself into thinking he was bluffing.

"I would never do anything to get you in trouble.. Not- not on purpose" you spoke hesitantly, not trusting your words at all, "really?" He mocked with raised eyebrows, "if you're really that devoted to me why don't you prove it?" He spoke in a bored tone, leaning back in his chair as he did so.

"how do I do that?" You questioned quickly, a subtle pout on your face, "I don't know" he retorted with a click of his tongue, "you tell me.."

As soon as the idea came to your brain your heart went racing, maybe you escalated things too quickly, dropping to your knees and scooting under the table to go towards Jonathan, when you peaked out of the table from in between his legs to make contact with his widened eyes, you tried not to smile, "I can pleasure you? To prove my devotion of course.."

"well that's certainly an idea.." As usual his tone was hard to read, he really was contemplating, he'd have to admit the sight of you between his legs batting your eyelashes at him was a pretty one, if that wasn't enough to make him uncomfortably hard you being in a straight jacket on top of that made it harder for him to refuse.

"get one chance and you become a bitch in heat.." His voice was so low that you almost didn't catch what he said and you almost wished you didn't, your cheeks heated up and you opened your mouth in protest but he quickly clasped a hand over your mouth, shutting you up.

"if we're going to do this I'm gonna need you to stay quiet okay?" He told you and you quickly nodded, "good, now get to work" he said dismissively before removing his hand and leaning back in his chair, unzipping his pants and pushing it down just enough that it'd be past his hips and you could see the outline of his cock through his boxers.

It seemed almost uncomfortable as the boxers seemed like they'd burst open any minute with how his cock was straining against them, your mouth was watering at the sight though you looked up at him in confusion when he made no move to take the boxers off.

He raised an eyebrow looking down at you, "what? I really need to spell it out for you?" His tone was so obviously condescending that you almost felt ashamed it was turning you on, "your hands may be useless but you still have a good set of teeth princess, use it"

So you did, craning up your neck to take the hem of his boxers between your teeth and slowly pull them down enough to release him from, you almost gasped at the sight of him, he was a little above average in length and girthy enough to make you question if you could fit him properly in your mouth.

You stuck your tongue out and licked a strip under it from the base till the tip of his cock, taking the head in your mouth, licking the pre-cum, his hand came up to take a fist full of your hair startling you, "speed up darling, I don't have all day" he told you in an unamused tone.

You swallowed him halfway and started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks in an effort to impress him, your body pressed up against his legs as you moaned around him.

All you got in response was a little groan, his grip on your hair tightened and he started pushing your head up and down at a faster pace, pushing you deeper each time, you looked up at him to see his flushed face and pretty blue eyes roll to the back of his head as he cursed under his breathe.

The sight sent waves of pleasure to your core and made you uncomfortably wet, "that's it princess, put your pretty mouth to good use" he muttered under his breathe as his thrusts became faster and more desperate.

Suddenly he pushed you all the way down and you eyes widened from surprise, gagging around him for a moment as you tried to adjust to the foreign breaching of your throat, your nose pushed into his trimmed hair as you whined, looking up at him through watering eyes, he let out a soft with at the sight.

"oh don't cry darling.." He spoke with feign sympathy, "this is what you wanted right? To pleasure me?" He mocked as you whined once more, instinctively trying to pull back for air, he let you go after a few moments, only giving you a few seconds to breathe before pushing you down again.

He bobbed you at the same place, letting himself bask in the pleasure as you gagged and choked with each thrust, it went on for a bit before he completely pulled you off and up so he could see you properly, standing on your knees a line of spit was connected from the base of his cock to your lips.

He reveled in the sight of your flushed face with tears streaming down it, messy hair and chest heaving, "good.. You did good darling.." He said under his breath, patting your cheek a bit too harshly, "but you didn't cum doctor crane.." You responded quietly, a pout on your glossy lips.

"oh that's not for you to worry about" he responded dismissively before standing up and pulling you with him, making you whimper from the pressure on your scalp, he turned you around before shoving you on the table and you let out a squeak of surprise.

"what're you doing doctor crane?" You questioned quietly, even though you knew the answer specially when he reached for the hem of your trousers, you wanted him to tell you.

"m'gonna fuck you baby.. " his raspy voice responded while undressing your lower half as blood rushed towards your face, "you can see it as a reward for your hard work.."

You could feel the head of his cock rubbing on your cunt, you squirmed and pushed back against him with a whine, urging him on, he grabbed your hair yet again and pulled you up, bending your body uncomfortably as he leaned down, "stop being so desperate darling, it's not a good color on you.."

Before you even had time to process it he pushed almost all the way in and your jaw dropped as a loud moan escaped you, his grip on your hair tightened as your expression contorted from the pain and pleasure of it all, eyes fluttering shut.

"fuck, I knew you'd have a tight little cunt from the moment I saw you" he breathed out, staying still for the moment to let the both of you adjust before pulling all the way out till the tip and then thrusting in again, repeating the process as loud moans escaped you.

"thought I told you to stay quiet earlier.." He muttered before letting your hair go and untying his tie, "but that's just how you bitches are huh? Get a good cock in you and you lose all control of yourself" you whined in protest but not for long before he gagged you with his tie and tied it behind your head.

He held your hips up as his thrusts soon resumed, letting you lay limp on the rocking table, squirming and mewling as he chased his own release, he reached a hand down to start rubbing at your clit with enough pressure to make you see stars and clench tightly around his dick, making him release a loud groan.

"pussy so tight she's fuckin chocking me.." He turned you around, deciding he wanted to see your face while you both came, see your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your legs shook from the pleasure, he didn't falter in his thrusts while you came, not caring if he was over stimulating you and more focused on his release.

Even though your head felt blank and too foggy to form a coherent thought you could feel him twitching inside you and wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, making sure he came deep inside you.

Once her came off his high he quickly pulled out, "fuck, what did you do.." He panted out, raising one of your legs up to get a good look of his come dripping out of your hole and down your ass.

"now why would you do that?" He questioned; knowing you weren't allowed to or were on birth control, rising up and removing your makeshift gag, as soon as he did you craned up to kiss his stiff form.

"I love you Jonathan" you told him after pulling away with a smile, not bothering to answer his 'silly' question, all while he stayed a bit frozen, now realizing that he'd gotten himself into major shit.

[ageingfangirl2]

I Take Care Of My Crew! Shanks x Reader SMUT!

You think you're alone, but your captain knows your dirty little secret and how can you refuse him, especially when all Shanks wants to do is take care of his crew. Shanks x Reader (Female) SMUT!

The Red Force had docked on another island to restock, and while the rest of the crew decided to enjoy the pleasures the taverns had to offer, you stayed on the ship to indulge in a little alone time with a purchase from a shop on the island. It was difficult being the only girl on the crew, and it wasn't helped that the guys took every opportunity to flex their bodies while treating you like a little sister since you were the youngest officer. Your last vibrator had died a couple of months ago and it wasn't until this island you could buy a new one.

You had built up respect from the crew, but if they found your toy there would be no end to the teasing. So you had to keep quiet when the ship was on the open sea, but tonight you could enjoy the sweet sensation of pleasuring yourself. After a relaxing bath, you slip into one of your nightgowns and light a candle on your dresser. This vibrator was different to the other one and the lady said this one would rock your world because one end was a bullet while the other end had a clit sucker.

You climb onto your bed lying on top of the sheets and start to play with your nipples through the gown which were hard because of the ship being naturally cold. You move your other hand to push up the hem of the gown feeling cold touch your intimate area making you shiver. You start to gently rub your folds, moving up to your clit which you circle slowly. You had enough mental material and imagination to quickly become aroused.

'Let's see what you can do,' you say teasingly, picking up the vibrator and bringing the bullet end down to your clit, 'let's start with old faithful.'

You probably should have played around with the settings beforehand because your whole body jolts at even the first setting, 'oh shit!' you moan.

You throw your head back and close your eyes, holding the toy on your clit allowing the pulsating vibes to go through your body to the very core.

'Mmm...yes...' you moan loudly, biting your lip as you scroll through the different settings.

Pleasure ripples across your lower half as your thighs buck, but you still hold firm, feeling tension build, a little ashamed at how quickly you were brought to orgasm.

'HELL YES...' you gasp, opening your eyes, taking note of your messy bedsheets from where your other hand had been clenching and your body writhing.

A sudden knock on your door scares you, and your thighs close around the toy instinctively forgetting to turn it off. No one should be back yet, it was too early.

'Hello, who is it?' you call out, quickly trying to get under the sheets to give the illusion of heading to bed.

'It's me, can I come in?' Shanks answers back, and you mentally curse yourself, Shanks didn't know how to keep a secret. Why the hell had he come back to check on you?

'Err...' you pause, your hands fidgeting under the sheets to stop the vibrator.

He opens the door and strolls in holding a box under his arm, he looks you over and frowns, 'a little early for bed isn't it?'

You hum, biting your lip, 'felt tired captain.'

He puts the box next to the candle on the dresser and smirks, 'Why are you squirming under the sheets?'

Shanks had no boundaries, as he pulled back the sheets revealing the vibrator you'd managed to turn off fall from between your thighs, 'you don't understand how hurt I am right now,' he pouts while still smirking.

'Excuse me, how are you hurt?' you question, quickly sitting up in bed after pulling your gown back down.

Shanks casually picks up the vibrator, 'I'm a good captain who takes care of his crew's needs. You had a need and didn't come to me.'

You stare at your captain dumbfounded, 'Err you'd tell the guys and they'd tease me, no offence when it comes to sex and secrets you can't keep your lips shut captain.'

Shanks nods in acknowledgement, 'Maybe, but I've known about your toys for the last year. Some nights I was curious about noises coming from your room, and despite being a good hider I found your vibrator during a search.'

You were shocked by his admission. He didn't sound disgusted, in fact, the way he was eyeing up the toy told you he might be curious. He was your main source of material, and even right now your pussy clenched at the fact he'd caught you.

You take a deep breath and decide to be bold, 'Do you want to try it on me captain?'

He raises an eyebrow and gulps as you pull your gown back up showing off your soaked pussy in all its glory, 'are you sure? I thought this was something girls did alone.'

You shake your head and lie back, your eyes not leaving his as you tempt him towards you with your hand, 'I have a need captain, aren't you going to take care of it?'

His smirk reaches his ears as his eyes darken and he licks his lips, 'I didn't know you were this horny, it's always the quiet ones.'

He picks up the box on the dresser and places it by you on the bed. You watch him take off his boots before he gets onto the bed with you. You relax, 'I can't have sex with anyone on the crew so this is the next best thing.'

Shanks turns on the sucker end of the vibrator and scrolls through the settings, 'do you have a crew member you think about the most?' he asks teasingly, stopping on a random setting.

You nod, 'I do captain.'

He brings the sucker down towards your clit nudging your legs further apart, 'do tell, I'm curious.'

You shiver in anticipation, 'he has red hair, scars across one eye, and don't get me started on his perfect chest.'

The toy touches your clit and you curse loudly as it sticks to you, 'FUCK!'

If the bullet got you, the way this attacked your clit with so much pressure was enough to blow your mind.

Shanks sits back on his heels admiration and lust on his face, 'I'm flattered you chose your captain, you're not too bad on the eyes yourself.'

You clench the sheets on either side of you as you come undone, 'Mmn...so...good...'

You notice Shanks pick up the box and hold it in front of him, 'I take care of my crew's needs. I got you something, I don't think you've owned one of these before.'

While writhing you manage to watch him take off the lid and pull out a toy that has caught your eye in the shop but had intimidated you. It was a vibrating dildo, 'that looks big,' you gasp.

Shanks runs his hand down the length of the dildo, 'I'll tell you the real thing is better, but if you've actually thought about my dick inside you then this is a good place to start, stretch you out properly.'

Your eyes widen, was he suggesting he was bigger than the dildo, that thought alone pulled another orgasm from you, 'then stretch me out, captain.'

You spread your legs as far as they'll go, your juices slick enough to coat the dildo without much prep. Shanks grunts as he runs the tip of the dildo up and down your folds, 'turn off the vibrator,' he orders, 'the only noise I want to hear is you imagining getting off on my dick fucking you.'

With shaky hands you turn off the vibrator and remove it from your now sensitive clit, 'I'm ready captain.'

Shanks pushes the tip against your entrance that throbs around it before engulfing it, 'good girl,' he praises.

He slides the whole length inside you, your body betraying you as it eagerly stretches around it without much pain or protest.

'Are you comfortable?' he asks.

You nod, 'Yes captain.'

Your body should have been prepared after the vibrator power but the second Shanks turns on the dildo you're overcome with a sensation you haven't experienced before, with a dildo penetrating you instead of using your fingers.

'So good...SHIT!' you curse, back arching.

Shanks chuckles darkly, 'Close your eyes and think of me.'

You comply closing your eyes, and moan sharply as he pushes it in and out of you at varying speeds. It had been a good month since you had sex so you were a little tight, but your walls hugged the dildo leaving you at the mercy of your captain who was grunting and praising you. He was clearly getting off himself at the scene the two of you found yourselves in.

You let your imagination go wild as pleasure consumes every inch of your body, 'going to cum...' you mumble, words coming out of your lips between gasps and moans.

'Cum for me, cum for your captain,' Shanks commands, his voice firm like he was casually shouting orders at the crew.

You buck your hips and release around the dildo, breathing heavily as Shanks allows you to ride your high. You open your eyes and sigh contently, 'Thank you, captain.'

Shanks removes the dildo and pulls down your gown, 'Get yourself cleaned up and straight to bed young lady.'

You sit up and motion towards his obvious bulge, 'What about your needs captain?'

Shanks grins, 'I have plenty of material, don't you worry your pretty head. But the dildo comes with me.'

You pout, 'why? I thought you got it for me.'

Shanks laughs as he gets up from the bed and picks up the dildo, 'If you want to use it you will do so in my presence, can't have you having too much fun on your own.'

Before you can argue, he bends down and kisses you softly on the forehead, this man was very confusing and always had ulterior motives. But he had rocked your world, so you'd let him off the hook for now, but you would get your hands on that dildo again.

[sant-riley]

[Task force 141 + others with Gen z!reader] [pt3]

A/N: Some of these you /may/ have seen on tiktok, that is me who posted them on tiktok. I am green haired bitch so no I didn't steal anything LMAO. I hope these live up to yalls expectations.

The last two of these my lovely friend gave me inspiration for <3 @frogchiro

Warnings: She/her pronouns swearing, age gaps, tiktok memes (like always lmk if I miss something!)

~

You steal Prices hat on numerous occasions bc its a fashion abomination and you refuse to let this man wear it around you. You hide around base as frequently as you can.

Jokes on you though bc he will literally wait til it's your birthday and buy you a matching one and will laugh at your scream of disgust.

Gaz one ups him by gifting you a matching hat as well, putting it on your head as he flicks the brim.

"Thanks Gaz! I love it!

"And not mine?"

"You're on thin ice, old man."

Price gets gifted a set from manscaped by the guys as a gag gift. He uses it for his beard bc he never bothered to look into why everyone was laughing around him.

Price takes your phone when you try and show him memes, squinting hard as fuck like a dad 💀

Soap, if yall have the time off takes you to scottish football games and it's a whole thing. You sitting there while he gets drunk out of his fucking mind, hollering and whooping and you're there trying to sink into your seat.

Chances are someone's gonna shove you and you're gonna trip and fall bc everyone's so amped up and Soap threatens to beat the shit out of them. It's a miracle y'all don't get kicked out 💀

If you have tattoos, Soap is the first one to take a marker set and color them in and adding his own additions. If you were ever to get them actually tattooed, he would tear up and pretend he isn't emotional about it.

"You like me that much Bonnie?"

He would get something of you too, so it evens out. This also makes Ghost in turn get a tattoo for you bc he refuses to be out done and he's just as attached

Neither of them get your call sign or your name, but they get something personal to what each of them associate you with.

The first time you meet Alex, you're across the room doing something that has your focus and didn't realize this is actually your first time meeting him. You ask him for a hand only to look up and see him extend his prosthetic at you with a smile and you scream.

"You asked for a hand but best I can do is a Leg." Price comes running and he sees the scene and rolls his eyes.

Everyone single one of them are the definition of "my girl can wear whatever she wants bc I'll break your jaw." meme btw. You can take care of yourself but you never need to bc they will beat a bitch up.

Laswell invites you constantly to come over and meet with her wife, esp if you don't have a mother figure. She always always tries to come on base to see you and always has a birthday and Christmas present on it's way to you wherever you may be. Her wife loves you to death and they've pretty much adopted you and you cannot escape it, oh well.

Gaz buys you whatever your little heart desires, especially if he's deployed away in a country where they sell exclusives of whatever you enjoy. It's a pain in the fucking ass to try and ship a anime figure to your place from Japan but he's gonna try his best.

Ghost doesn't share his food, or at least it was before you came along. He groans and grumbles about having to feed you but he wouldn't do it if he truly didn't want to. Soap asks and Ghost tells him to fuck off.

If you watch anime, please imagine trying to get everyone in the room and trying to explain who Dabi is. They're all so fucking old they keep thinking you're referring to the elf from Harry Potter and it infuriates you to no end.

Soap and Gaz know better but it's funnier to see you mad.

Being the youngest, they absolutely force you to do the jobs they don't want to. Whether it be cleaning the barracks, to cooking dinner when able, it doesn't matter bc they'll all pull rank on you.

"You're the new kid, get to it then."

"Ghosttttt-"

"Don't Ghost me."

Soap is the kind of motherfucker to play the fifa games and doesn't understand that he's stupid for buying it every single year bc there are no changes oncesoever. He will not listen to you about it and you've given up.

Ghost will see you talk about your etsy list and will ask for your phone, you trust him so of course you hand it over. He hands it back to you and it's just, all purchased. He says nothing while he sips on his tea while you scream at him asking why he did it. He won't tell you but it's because he knows it makes you happy and it'll keep your mood up, giving you a reason to be motivated to get through missions. It's also because he knows that retail therapy is a thing for your generation.

Soap, if you do any, is actually really good at doing your makeup! He knows how to do everything and he refuses to elaborate. (As a kid he'd do his mom's makeup when she went out for dates) he's the one who helps you doll up if you're going undercover.

Ghost, Gaz and Price find you unfunny whenever you make a "wow I wish British people were real." You say it so often and it gets annoying but they also just accept it's a part of life.

Soap personally enjoys the "SCOTLAND FOREVERRRRRRR" meme and will scream it with you. Ghost threatens to cut yalls tongue out.

Other parts can be found under #Kayla writes <3

Taglist:

@devilsfoodcake22 @simon-rileys-princess

@stupid-ninja @milkmily

@lune-la-chanson @tamayakii

@teacupcollector @sweet-as-an-angel

@perilous-pasta @ihatethisappsomuchitpains

@marsbar127xx @baddump

@xncasi @king-cookiex

@palomaxaxaxa @amatchasky @wolfyland07 @diejager

@hailstrum18 @pretty-little-bunny382728 @mzfandom

If you'd like to be tagged, go to my pinned post and comment there :)

[alexa-fika]

Devourer of ships (Shanks x gn!Reader)

A/N y’all I haven’t written in a non-requested piece in a hot minute!! Not sure about this one but I hope you like it, just a little thought I had. To avoid spoilers some definitions and explanations are at the bottom of the chapter

Here Reader is Replaced by dokucha which stands for reader in japanese

Dividers by @/saradika

"What are we looking for in this location," Beckmann asked as he glanced at the map lying between him and his Captain, his usual cigarette held between his teeth

"There are a couple of road pone glyphs in that location that we need to retreat."

"On the middle of the sea?" Limejuice asked looking at the spot where his Captain had placed a knife, confused at the lack of land underneath it or anywhere around it.

"Boss, I'm not sure about this. There is no land there, and there are multiple reports of the danger of that part of the sea." Snake frowned

"There is no land recorded," Shanks replied, still glancing at the map, a slight smirk on his face

"No one makes it close enough to the island to map it or to even know there is an island there."

"Boss, if the water is dangerous to the point one can't make it close enough to even see the island, how are we going to? How do you even know about the island?" Lucky asked casually as he took another bite from the meat in his hand

"Roger made it to the island back in the day; the island wasn't mapped due to a request of a friend that wanted the island to remain hidden; that being said, don't worry about the passage I know how to get across" Shanks explained waving away their worries

"Is this friend of yours still there even after so many decades have passed?" Beckmann asked with a frown

"They'll be there". Shanks spoke, an unwavering faith behind his words

Beckman let a sigh at this, smoke escaping his mouth as he did, his lip tilting upwards slightly

"Hard to argue with that."

_

"It's awfully calm for an area that was said to be so dangerous," Yassop commented, watching at the serene sea, the sound of soft waves hitting the Red force

"Perhaps the rough sea was a passing storm?" Rockstar suggested, humming as he spotted something in the distance

"Hey, What's that?" He asked, pointing to the object, knowing of his superior's heightened eyesight

"Looks like a rock formation; there's a few of them. Looks like they are forming a circle."

"If they are rock, why does it look like they are starting to move?"

"Huh? H-Hey, what's going on?! " someone in the distance screamed as the ship suddenly shifted direction, seemingly dragged by a current

"It's a whirlpool!" Yassop hollered

" Captain!"

"Hold the sails," Shanks screamed as he ran to the Deck, leaning against the railing of the ship

"Sea King!" someone screamed as an enormous serpent-like monster emerged from the water; what they previously thought to be rock formations turned out to be the teeth of the sea king

"Don't," Shanks called, putting a hand over the riffle of his first mate, having already been aiming at the intruding beast

"Hold your fire men, that's not a sea king," Shanks ordered as he approached the beast as it prepared to consume them

"Hello, Dokucha. Don't tell me you don't recognize me anymore."

"Captain?!" someone screamed, confused about their captain's actions, only to stare in shock as the monster halted

The crew watched as it quickly dove back into the water, taking with it the huge whirlpool that previously endangered the ship, returning the sea to its previous serene state

"Boss What was that?!" Yassop hollered down at his captain from his spot at the crow's nest

"You'll see."

"Something is coming up!" someone called, letting a scream as someone jumped onto the deck, the crew quick to draw their weapons

"Weapons down," Shanks order

"B-But boss i-

The words they were about to utter were quickly halted at the pointed glare their captain sent their way; nodding as he lowered his weapon, the rest of the crew followed after

At this, Shanks turned his sight back to the person in front of him, fins decorating where their ears would usually be and a small set of tusks adorning their mouth. On their head, they sported an extensive array of horns, with two pairs placed on top of their head as they curved upward and two more pairs behind their eared gills, curved in a manner similar to a ram. Their back sported a pair of wings with what appeared to be a row of sharp-like formations decorating the borders of it, a sharp horn structure at the end of them.

"It's been a long time, Dokucha," He called

--

After the grand commotion, due to appearance of the young creature calmed down. Shanks gathered his crew, explaining his relation to them. It turned out he and Dokucha first met in his younger years when he was still sailing with the other Roger pirates.

Dokucha served as a guradian to a small archipielago of islands, creating deadly storms and powerful whirpools to bring down any ship that got to close, effectively keeping the island not only safe but hidden to the outside world.

Roger, with ways still unknown to him managed to befriend the guardian. To this day Shanks believed it to be because of his Captain's incredible charisma and easygoing nature that he had managed the relationship to flourish.

Since their meeting, the archipelago served as a safe haven from the outside world, a place the crew could come and relax without any threat able to reach them. It was in the archipelago where Roger was able to find the last poneglyphs he needed to make it to the end of the grand line and the creature who could grant them safe passage to it, Dokucha themselves. It was with their aid that they managed to safely make it to the island that would later be named Laughtale.

Once their journey had ended, Roger returned the RoadPone glyphs to their original home. Where Dokucha had asked the Captain to keep the existence of the land a secret from the outside world, which he readily agreed to. Because of this, Dokucha's already established trust with the Captain had expanded, as they offered the archipelago as a safe haven not only to him and any treasure he may want to keep safe but to any of his successors as well, which is how Shanks had been able to calm down what was to be the downfall of the Red force. Needless to say, their re-encounter had been a cause for celebration.

"Say, Dokucha, how did our captain look when he was younger?" Lucky laughed at the now fussing beast

They turned to them with a smile

" Oh my, you should have seen him; he was just the cutest kid. He had all this baby fat you could just melt into," they exclaimed, pulling at his now reddening cheeks at the laughs that echoed across the mess hall

"Laugh all you want; you are simply jealous," Shanks called, drinking the rest of his drink

"What a handsome man you have turned into! You grew your hair out, I see! Oh, you also let a beard grow? Gives you a ruggish look; I bet you are popular with the ladies," they rambled, looking at him

"You also seem to be missing an arm; what happened?" they asked hurriedly, not missing a breath

"A sea king took it," he easily replied

"Why, those archaic beasts! How dare they? When I see them again I ought to exterminate every single one!" they huffed

"Dahaha, don't worry too much about it, Dokucha."

"Gee, I see you're still as easygoing as you were all those years ago. Losing a Limb is a pretty big deal, especially for a species like a human!" they pouted

"Don't worry, Dokucha, it was a fair trade. Besides, something tells me the old fish already got a beating”

"A trade? What kind of gambling are humans into that you would wager your own limbs?"

"A wager on a new era"

"Look at you, being ominous and mysterious." They laughed and teased him

"You never take me seriously, Dokucha," he whined with a pout

They let out small snickers at this

"Say, where is that straw hat of yours?

"I let someone borrow it."

"Borrow it? You were inseparable with the thing; who is this person?”

“It’s Luffy!” Lucky cheered

“Luffy?” they questioned

“The hell is a fluffy?”

“This is Luffy,” Beckmann piped in passing Dokucha, the wanted poster

“We’ll, I'll be; this Brings so many memories,” they sigh happily, staring at the young man with the white cloud-like appearance and the strawhat

Shanks ignored their statement, knowing of the other’s long lifespan as he continued to drink from his sakazuki

“Ah, that reminds me,” they exclaimed, putting the wanted poster down and throwing themselves on top of Shanks, wrapping their arms around his neck in a tight embrace, their wings following suit and wrapping around his torso

Shanks let out a small smile at this, giving them a side glance and promptly returning his gaze back to the sakazuki in his hand

“What’s this? Have you also fallen for my ruggish looks?” he teased with a gentle look on his face

“I missed you.”

“Sorry I took so long to come back. Have the others not visited you?”

“No, they probably didn’t know of mine and Roger’s promise; that old bastard probably forgot to tell them; you were just nosy, so you heard our conversation.”

“Hmm, I’ll be sure to let them all know; I will

Make sure they visit you.”

“Thank you,” they muttered

If you are a mythology greek, then you already know who this was based on; I know I said definitions would be at the bottom but im curious how many of you already know who it is, send an ask or a comment if you know 🤭 man I feeel like a famous youtuber, saying that

Sakazuki is a japanese bowl/plate like utensil used to drink, it is the one we often see characters drinking from : )

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

[myfandomrealitea]

okay, so- this is coming from someone who really hasn't engaged in fandom discourse, especially regarding shipping and such. I dearly hope this doesn't come across as bait or troll, I'm genuinely curious and want to learn. apologies for the possibly-dumb question, but I really just need to ask-

what is proshipping? and what are 'antis'?

you know how it is, when you ask around you always get a biased answer one way or another. "proshippers are pedos" "proshippers all condone incest" "proship Bad and if you interact You Are Bad" (i think these are 'anti' points of view? am i using that term right? that's the rhetoric ive mainly heard). but despite all of that, i don't know if ive ever actually gotten a straight answer as to just.. what it factually is. because it doesn't feel like the sort of thing that you can boil down to insults or accusations or whatnot. it's all just very confusing to me, especially because i come from a place that essentially just told me to avoid like the plague and never look back. sorry, this became a bit of a ramble, lol. thank you so much in advance, i hope i'm not being a bother or insulting with this ^^;

The modern term; 'proship' (s.a; 'proshipping' and 'profiction') is an evolution of an earlier fandom acronym known as: 'SALS.'

Ship And Let Ship

SALS was one of the earliest fandom adoptions and interpretations of the concept of not bullying others for what they shipped or their fandom interests, and not trying to control or dictate what was "allowed" to be shipped or enjoyed. The most notable origin of SALS was during the early years of accessible fandom via Star Trek, and the present homophobia and misogyny in a largely male-dominated community.

As woman became more involved in fandom spaces, the presence of 'other' ships and pairings began to increase. M/M, F/F that wasn't purely for sexual gratification, and M/O and F/O (where 'O' is Other) pairings were popular amongst women, much as they still are today.

Not only did the presence of women in a "male space" receive a not insignificantly negative reaction, so too did them filling the fandom space with their shipping content. Now; sexism and misogyny and homophobia were not entirely to blame. Again as is still very much present today, people simply Did Not Like Certain Ships or Characters. And as they still do today, they'd spread hate about them and to the people who did enjoy them.

Thus: the birth of SALS.

(In other words: I like what I like and it has fuck all to do with you. Shut up and move on.)

Back then, SALS was mostly contained to just that. Ships and characters. Since back in that era 'taboo topics' and 'sexual content' were still pretty covert, people weren't exactly arguing the merits of incest in public forums and at conventions.

However, as all things do, the internet evolved. Society evolved. Media evolved. And so too did 'SALS' evolve in keeping with the new culture and subjects present in fandom spaces.

Suddenly it wasn't just ships and characters to be advocated for. It was themes. Subjects. Kinks. Plots. The more things people found to enjoy, so too did the more things people found to hate.

'Proship' is actually grammatically pro-ship. As in; in support of shipping. This is why I always state that the modern conceptions of proshipping would more accurately be coined profiction. It is no longer just about ships, but fiction as a whole.

However; the core value and sole inherent point of being proship, SALS, profiction and so forth remains exactly the same:

[I/We] believe you have no right to harm others over the [ship/content] they create or consume and [I/we] do not have the right to dictate what is or is not allowed in fandom spaces.

That's it. Don't harass people for what they enjoy fictionally. Don't try to force them into not enjoying or being able to enjoy it.

Of course, the modern adaption varies wildly in terms of 'additional values' thanks to the evolution of the term and what it can encompass. However, there is certainly no obligation to:

Create or consume content you are uncomfortable with.

Create or consume content regarded as 'taboo' or 'triggering.' Such as incest.

Be involved with any aforementioned content beyond turning a blind eye if its not your thing.

Inherently, anyone who says they're 'neutral' on the matter but firmly believes in minding their own business is just a proshipper refusing to use the label if you're taking the term solely at its core value.

In terms of 'antis' they're just the antithesis of the above. Antis are people who generally believe that fiction is irrevocably tied in with who you are, what you believe/condone, and that real-life limitations and values should also apply to fiction.

Although, its is heavy debated and it wildly varies per individual to the degree this is taken.

(E.g: some 'antis' believe you should only write rape fic if you are a victim using it as catharsis or education. Other 'antis' believe there's absolutely no excuse or reason to write rape fic at all.)

Antis typically believe that enjoyment or being invested in content which is regarded as harmful or illegal in real life is morally unsound and reflects that you're a bad or morally unsound person.

Although I disagree, I can honestly say in some aspects I do understand this reasoning. I don't agree, but I do understand why people may come to that conclusion.

As with proshippers, antis vary from people who simply ignore and block content they don't agree with to radicals.

'Anti' is again a prefix. Although modern adoption of the term uses it as a singular signifier, it would grammatically be anti-[fandom], anti-[character], ect. As was commonly used in the past.

The rhetoric that all proshippers are pedophiles or support incest is common-spread and effective 'anti' propaganda. Similar to how so many people believe 'proship' inherently signifies that you must create and/or consume taboo or darker content.

It doesn't.

¹ Proship may also be accurately termed as simply: 'anti-harassment.' ² Its important to note the 'definition' of these terms may vary wildly depending on the individual. However, detailed above is the most historical use and evolution of the terms and their definitions.

[alxtiny]

Ad Astra per Aspera

Episode 1

Pairing: Pirate!Ateez x Navigator!reader

Genre: pirate!au, fluff, angst, maybe smut

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: blood, blunt trauma to the head, starvation, improper jokes, hate able characters

Notes: lets see if y’all can guess who is who >.<

Playlist : asleep by the smiths | the great gig in the sky by pink floyd | under the water by aurora

Series Masterlist | Episode 2 | Prologue

"Move it, slave!” a gruff voice barked behind you, “I ain't got time for yer dainty little walk," you felt the crude shove of a sword poke into your back, the dirty steel pressing through the thin fabric of your shirt like an icicle. You stumbled forward, almost tripping over the uneven planks of the dock.

"Stop poking me!" You exclaimed, spinning around to glare at your tormentor. The chains binding your arms come up to shield your body. Your eyes were bright with fury. "I told you already, I am not a slave. I am a navigator, and I am getting on your infernal ship of my own volition. Take me to your captain; I have a deal to—"

"Quit runnin' yer mouth, lass, or I'll run you through with my sword," the crewman growled, clumsily swishing his blade around, making his inexperience known. His breath reeked of stale ale and rotting teeth, a look of disgust plastered itself across your face. His sword came to rest under your chin, pushing your face up. Exasperated, you raised your hands in mock surrender.

"Alright, alright," you muttered, rolling your eyes. With a resigned sigh, you dragged yourself up the gangplank, your boots clattering against the rough wood. The unimpressive ship seemed to loom above you menacingly, its sails furled and its deck swarming with activity.

The ship’s deck was a cesspool of filth and debauchery. Men lounged about in various states of drunkenness, their eyes glazed and their movements sluggish. The stench of unwashed bodies and rancid skin mingled with the salty spray of the sea, creating a miasma that made you gag. You could feel a dozen pairs of eyes on yourself, leering and appraising, as if you were nothing more than a piece of meat.

Around you, other women were being herded aboard, their faces pale and eyes wide with fear. Some were weeping, clutching at their tattered dresses, while others stared blankly ahead, in acceptance of their fate. Your stomach churned with a mix of disgust and anger. It was a slave trader’s ship. You had been foolish, utterly foolish, to let yourself be tricked into coming here.

It had all started at the pub, a dimly lit hole-in-the-wall frequented by sailors and all that. You had been celebrating a successful voyage, your pockets heavy with the gold you had earned as a navigator. A group of men had approached you, claiming they so desperately needed your skills to guide their ship through such treacherous waters. It stoked your ego of course, you couldn’t resist.

But it had all been a lie. They had swindled you, drugged your unguarded drink, and taken you prisoner. You had awoken, bound and gagged, surrounded by the same men who now leered at you from the ship’s deck. The gold was all gone, except a few coins you had kept hidden in your boots. You clenched your fists, cursing your own naivety.

The crewman prodded at your back again, forcing you to keep moving. You glaring back at him, he laughed as if this was all just a fun game. He was a squat, greasy man with a pockmarked face, a half shaven beard and a cruel glint in his eye. His clothes were dirty and ill-fitting, and sweat dripped down the sides of his face.

"Where’s the captain?" You demanded, your voice trembling with barely contained rage. "I want to speak to him now."

The crewman snorted, a sound that was more pig than human. "You don't make demands here, lass. You do as you're told, or you'll end up in the bilge with the rats." He grabbed your arm, his fingers digging into your flesh, and dragged you towards the stern of the ship.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you were marched through the ship's dingy corridors, the air thick with the smell of salt and rotting wood. The two burly crewmen escorting you, stopped before a large, ornately carved door. One of them knocked twice, and a muffled voice from within barked for them to enter.

You were pushed into the room, stumbling over the threshold. The interior was a stark contrast to the squalor of the rest of the ship. Rich tapestries lined the walls, and the floor was covered with a plush, but stained, rug. At the far end of the room, behind a desk cluttered with a pile of maps and papers, and an even higher pile of dirty cutlery, sat the captain.

He was an unimposing figure in terms of height but made up for it in girth. His ample belly strained against the buttons of a once-white shirt now stained with the remnants of countless meals. Various condiments had left their mark, creating a painting of greasy splotches. His bald head glistened under the lamplight, a poorly matched toupee perched precariously atop his head. A smattering of fake gold jewellery adorned his fingers and neck, clinking as he moved.

The ‘captain’ looked up from his desk, a lecherous grin spreading across his bloated face. His small, beady eyes raked over you, lingering with a predatory gleam. "Well, well, what have we here?" he slurred, his voice thick with the effects of cheap alcohol.

You could barely suppress a shudder of disgust. The smell of rot and smoke wafted towards you as he rose from his chair, his movements slow and ungainly. He waddled closer, his breath heavy with the scent of decay. You took an involuntary step back, your skin crawling as he reached out to cup your chin with his pudgy fingers.

"Oh yess," he crooned, his voice dripping with false sweetness. "A rare beauty indeed. You'll fetch a pretty penny, my dear. Or perhaps... you might be of use to me in other ways." His grip tightened, and you winced as his grimy nails bit into your skin.

"I am a navigator," you said through gritted teeth, trying to keep your voice steady. "Not a commodity to be sold or used. If you have any sense, you'll let me do my job and not treat me like chattel."

The man threw back his head, a shrill laugh erupting from his throat. His greasy face twisted into a cruel grin, his yellowed teeth bared like a predator toying with its prey.

"Oh please," he scoffed, shaking his head. "A woman as a navigator? As if." He turned slightly, gesturing to the room around him, where the other men chuckled in agreement. "Women are bad luck on ships. You're lucky you're being sold, girl. With your looks, some rich man might buy you. Keep you as a little whore, maybe."

His mocking tone made your blood boil. You clenched your fists, feeling the heat rise in your chest, but you forced yourself to maintain composure. He was trying to provoke you, belittle you, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of crumbling under his words.

"Bad luck? You’re the one who's unlucky," you snapped, lifting your chin defiantly. "I’ve navigated through storms worse than your ship can survive and waters darker than that stain on your shirt. Without someone like me, you'd be lucky to avoid running aground before dawn. Sell me off if you want, but it'll be your loss when you're stranded out there with nothing but your ignorance and superstitions."

His eyes darkened, the amusement in them turning cold as he stepped closer, his breath rancid against your face. He laughed again, quieter this time, but more sinister.

"You've got fire," he sneered. "But fire snuffs out quick at sea. And I don’t need some chit telling me how t’ run my ship." He tilted his head, considering you for a moment, before his lips twisted into a nasty smirk. "Tell you what. Since you're so eager to prove your worth... If you can lead me and my crew to the next port—alive—I’ll consider giving you a job."

You felt a flicker of hope, but it was quickly snuffed out by his next words.

"Not that I believe for a second you can," he continued, gesturing dismissively to one of his men. "Put her in the chart room. Give her the old maps and tools. Let's see what she can do with those rusty relics."

His men seized you roughly by the arms and dragged you down a narrow corridor. The stench of mildew filled the air as they threw open the door to a small, dimly lit room. It was more of a storage closet than a proper chart room. Tattered maps lay strewn across a dust-covered table, their edges crumbling from age. Instruments sat in a pile on the floor, as if someone threw them in and forgot about them eons ago. It was an insult to your craft.

The door slammed shut behind you, and you were left in the damp silence. You glared at the mess in front of you, wiping your hands on your pants as you surveyed the room. Some of the instruments were so worn they might not even function properly anymore.

"These fools wouldn’t know how to chart a course if their fucking lives depended on it," you muttered under your breath, grabbing the least-damaged map from the pile. Your hands shook as you unfurled it, your mind already racing to piece together what little you could.

Your eyes traced the faded lines, the names of ancient ports barely legible. But you had no choice. You needed to find a way to navigate this ship to safety—not just for yourself, but because proving them wrong had become more than just a matter of pride.

Hours passed as you pored over the charts, plotting a course that would take them through the least dangerous waters. You marked out safe harbours and potential hazards, making notes on a scrap of parchment. By the time you finished, your head was pounding and your eyes were heavy with fatigue.

You leaned back in the rickety chair, staring up at the ceiling. The ship creaked and groaned around you, the sound of waves lapping against the hull felt like a little man hammering away into your skull. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself a moment of rest. You knew that the coming days would be difficult, but you were quite determined to survive, to find a way out of this hellhole.

As the ship rocked gently on the waves, you drifted off to sleep, your dreams filled with visions of making way to faraway shores.

Over the course of the next two weeks, you poured every ounce of your skill and determination into navigating the ship through open waters and rapidly changing currents. The vast expanse of the open sea stretched out before you, a canvas of endless blue under the watchful eye of the sun and moon, and the occasional dark clouds that wept above you. You worked tirelessly, plotting courses, adjusting sails, and ensuring the ship stayed on a safe path. You had already saved them from a deadly storm and a series of hidden reefs, but despite your invaluable contributions, you were more like a prisoner than a respected navigator.

Every night, you could feel the disgusting gazes of the revolting crewmen following you around as you moved about the deck, their crude catcalls and whistles echoing through the darkness. Their words, filled with suggestive taunts and vulgarity, went on with a break. You were tired of it all. You would quicken your pace, doing your best to avoid their lustful stares, but the feeling of being watched never left you.

Not to mention your living quarters were nothing less than abysmal. You had been given a tiny, fishy-smelling cabin barely large enough to fit a untrustworthy hammock and a simple, rickety chair. The walls were damp, the paint was peeling and mould hung around rent free. The cabin had no proper bathroom, just a cracked basin for washing, and you were forced to bathe with your clothes on to preserve some semblance of privacy and dignity. The limited water you were allotted was often murky, tainted by the ship's grime and filth.

Meals were a farce. The crew seemed to take pleasure in your discomfort, providing you with nothing more than stale, dry bread, hardened fish and tepid water, barely enough to keep you alive. Your stomach grumbled constantly, a relentless gnawing hunger that left you feeling weak and light-headed. You would sit in your cramped cabin, picking at the bread, trying to muster the strength to face another day. It was a test of endurance, a form of torture that gnawed away at your resolve with each passing hour.

Despite your dire circumstances, you knew you had no choice but to obey. Your earlier demands had placed you in a dangerous position, and any hint of defiance could tilt the balance against your favour. You walked a thin line, a weak rope that even a trapeze artist would refuse.

On your sixteenth day on the ship, you woke up earlier than usual, to the soft creaking of the ship, your senses still dulled by the fitful sleep that had become your nightly routine. The confines of your smelly, damp cabin felt more oppressive each day, the weak hammock beneath you barely providing rest. You stretched your aching limbs and splashed your face with the dull water from the cracked basin, trying to shake off the persistent lethargy that clung onto you like a second skin. The stale bread left from your last meal sat untouched on the rickety chair, your stomach too nauseous to consider eating.

You were in the midst of your daily routine, preparing for another gruelling day of work, the same work you once enjoyed now seemed like an unnecessary pain. You prepared to walk out of the cabin, dreading the unwanted attention from the others, when a sudden, deafening boom echoed through the ship. The floorboards shuddered beneath your feet, and the air seemed to recoil with the force of the explosion. For a moment, you stood frozen in place, your mind struggling to process the cacophony of sounds that followed—the clamour of footsteps, the frantic shouts, and the ominous creaking of the ship as it tilted to one side, making you stumble.

Your heart raced as you heard the muffled sounds of screaming and scurrying outside your door. Panic surged through your veins, and you moved to the door, only to find it locked from the outside. You cursed under your breath, tears welling up in your eyes. The realisation that you were trapped, powerless to escape whatever chaos had engulfed the ship, sent a wave of despair crashing over you.

“Pirates! Save yourself!” someone screamed, their voice raw with terror. The slurred shrieks of the slaver captain followed, barking out orders with a frantic urgency. “Abandon ship! No first- Get me out of here!”

Your pulse quickened as you grasped the small window set high in your door. It was just out of reach. You grabbed the chair, its legs wobbly and unstable, and clambered onto it, pressing your face to the grimy glass. You could see only a narrow slice of the chaos outside, figures darting back and forth in a desperate frenzy. The metallic tang of blood filled the air, mingling with the acrid smoke that drifted through the corridors.

As you strained to see more, a thud shook the door, and the chair beneath you wobbled alarmingly. You let out a strangled cry, gripping the edges of the window for balance. The sound of gunshots reverberated through the wooden walls, each one a sharp, violent punctuation in the symphony of terror. A thick, dark liquid began to seep through the crack at the bottom of the door, pooling on the floor beneath your feet. You felt your stomach churn as the realisation hit you—blood.

You screamed, a raw, primal sound that tore through your throat, and the colour drained from your face. You banged on the door, your fists bruising against the wood, but your cries were lost in the maelstrom of chaos outside.

Suddenly, a voice pierced through the din, smooth and chillingly calm. “Found a slave in here,” it called out, its tone laced with a seductive menace that made your skin crawl. You pressed your ear to the door, straining to catch a glimpse of your would-be captors, but your vision swam with tears and fear.

Before you could react, a hand slammed against the window, and the force of the impact sent your chair teetering. You lost your balance, falling hard to the floor, your head striking the rough wood with a sickening thud. Pain exploded in your skull, and your vision blurred. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears, mingling with the distant sound of voices and the echo of your own screams.

The last thing you saw before darkness claimed you was the vague outline of a figure moving past the window, and the door being wrenched open with a splintering crack. The scent of salt and gunpowder filled your nostrils, mingling with the coppery tang of blood. The voice, with its cruel, mocking lilt, whispered one last chilling phrase as consciousness slipped away. “This one will fetch a fine price.”

The voice, gruff and edged with impatience, cut through the haze of your fading consciousness. "Yeah, first we need to fix that nasty gash in the side of her head."

Everything went black.

When you finally stirred, it felt like an eternity had passed. Your head throbbed with a deep, pulsing ache, and your limbs felt as if they were weighed down with stones. You groaned, your voice a rasping whisper for water, as you struggled to open your eyes. The light in the room was blinding, stabbing into your skull with every tiny flicker.

Slowly, painfully, you turned your head, your vision swimming in and out of focus. The room around you was dimly lit, the walls rough and shadowed. The scent of salt and damp wood filled the air, but it was the figure by your side that drew your attention. A man stood there, dressed in a white tunic splattered with dull red and brown stains. You blinked, your foggy mind trying to make sense of it all.

"Where... where am I? How long was I out?" You croaked out, your throat dry and raw.

The man turned, and for a moment, all thoughts of pain and confusion fled your mind. He was the most striking man you had ever seen, with piercing brown eyes and a rugged handsomeness that made your breath catch in your throat. His blonde hair was tied back in a careless manner, stray strands framing his sharp features.

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, your words slipping out before you could stop yourself. "Yep, I’m dead, and there’s even an angel here to take me away."

The man's expression twisted into a snarl at your words, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Ain’t an angel, lass. I’m a doctor. I fixed you up, but now you’ll be sent off somewhere, I guess."

Your mind stuttered to a halt, confusion crashing over her. You’re stared at him, trying to process what he had just said. Suddenly, panic flared in your chest, and you bolted upright despite the sharp pain that tore through your body.

"Wait, what?" You gasped,your heart pounding wildly.

"You heard me," he replied, his tone flat but certain.

"But why?" you questioned, your voice trembling with both confusion and fear.

The man approached you, his demeanour calm and seemingly harmless as he carried a box filled with strange bottles and vials and a glass of water. “I dunno. My job was to patch you up, doll. The rest is up to the captain to decide.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. "Wait, captain? This is a ship—are you pirates?!" you screeched, your voice rising in panic. Instinctively, you shifted further up on the bed, clutching the sheets tightly against your chest as if they could somehow protect you from whatever horrors awaited.

The man laughed, the sound a low rumble in his chest. “What, you thought you were back in whatever noble house you came from?”

“N-no,” you stammered, the denial slipping from your lips before you could even process it. “Of course not, but… what do you want from me?”

The man sighed, a trace of weariness in the sound, before a small awkward smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Let me put some ointment on your wound,” he said, gesturing to the box he carried. “Then I’ll take you to the captain. He’ll decide your fate... don’t worry, sometimes……. he’s merciful.”

A look of horror passed over your face, the weight of his words sinking in. But as much as you wanted to fight, to resist, you knew you had no choice. Once again you were trapped. With trembling hands, you released your grip on the sheet and took the glass of water he held towards you. You took a few sips before gulping it down and allowing him to come nearer.

He moved with a practised ease, gently unwrapping the gauze from around your head. You hadn’t even realised it was there, there was dull throbbing in your skull because of whatever injury you had sustained. He dabbed at the wound with a wet cloth, wiping away the dried blood, and you flinched as the cold air touched the raw skin.

When he began applying the ointment, you winced, expecting the sting of pain to worsen. But instead, a soothing coolness spread across the wound, the pain ebbing away within minutes. It was as if the discomfort had never existed.

He finished wrapping your head in fresh bandages, his hands quick and efficient. You touched the side of your head, your mouth falling open in awe when you realised there was no more pain.

"You must have magic in your hands," you murmured, your voice filled with genuine wonder. "I barely feel any pain at all."

He smiled widely at your words, a touch of pride lighting up his eyes. “No magic, lass. Just a good bit of skill.” He extended a hand to help you stand, his grip firm and steady as he guided you to your feet .

You wobbled slightly, your legs feeling like jelly beneath you, but he steadied you with ease. With a nod, he led you out of the dimly lit room, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on your chest as you headed toward whatever fate the captain had in store for you.

Stepping out of the door, you were immediately hit with a blast of hot, humid air, the salty tang of the sea filling your nostrils. The sunlight, far more intense than the dim lights of the room you had just left, assaulted your eyes, forcing you to squint against its brightness. As your eyes adjusted, you took in your surroundings, following the man down a narrow passage that led out onto the deck.

The deck was expansive, far larger than you had expected, and meticulously maintained. The dark wood beneath your feet was smooth and polished, almost gleaming in the sunlight, a stark contrast to the grimy, weathered deck of the ship you had been on before. Men moved about with a practised, almost military-like precision, their movements synchronised as they managed the sails and ropes with an efficiency that belied the chaos you had expected from a pirate crew. Voices rang out across the deck, some shouting orders, others responding with quick, sharp affirmations.

Your gaze was drawn upward to the towering mainmast, which seemed to loom over you like a giant, casting a long shadow across the deck. "We must be on the poop deck," you thought, your mind racing to make sense of the ship’s layout. Ahead of you, you could just barely make out the bowsprit extending far into the distance, the very tip of the ship. The grandeur of the ship astonished you, its size and the sheer opulence of its upkeep making you wonder just how rich these pirates must be.

The man led the way, his footsteps silent on the wooden planks as you followed closely behind, your eyes darting around to take in as much as you could. Despite the flurry of activity around you, none of the crew seemed to pay you any mind. They were too focused on their tasks to spare even a glance in your direction, as if your presence was of no consequence to them. The lack of attention should have reassured you, it was a relief from the constant surveillance you had on the slaver ship, but it only deepened the knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach.

As you reached the main deck, the man remained quiet, offering no explanation or comfort. The tension in your chest grew with each step, your heart pounding in rhythm with the ship's creaking timbers. Finally, you arrived at a small staircase that led down into another passage. This passage, in contrast to the bright sunlight above, was dark and foreboding, the walls closing in around you as you descended. The shift from light to dark was jarring, and you found yourself instinctively trying to close in on yourself, away from the shadows that seemed to press into you from all sides.

The man stopped at the end of the passage, in front of a large carved, heavy door that seemed to absorb the light rather than reflect it. “Wait here,” he instructed, his voice curt but not unkind. He pushed the door open and slipped inside, leaving you standing alone in the darkness.

You stared at the door, your breath coming in shallow, anxious gasps. "This must be the captain’s room," you thought,your imagination running wild with all the possible horrors that could lie beyond that door. The longer you stood there, the more your nerves frayed, each second stretching out into an eternity. Your mind conjured up images of what the captain might be like—cruel, ruthless, and utterly terrifying. You could almost see his large figure and barbarous appearance.

Your heart raced, the silence around you thickening like a shroud. Every creak of the ship, every distant shout from the deck above, made you jump. You fought the urge to flee, knowing you had nowhere to go, no means of escape. All you could do was wait, your ability to overthink seemed to have reached a new level, until the door finally opened and you would come face to face with the man who held your fate in his hands.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the door creaked open, and the man stepped out, his expression unreadable. He gestured for you to go inside, but you hesitated, your feet rooted to the spot. The fact that he didn’t seem to be coming in with you made your heart pound even harder in your chest. When you still didn’t move, he gave you a gentle but firm push, and before you could protest, the door was closed behind you with a resounding thud.

You stumbled into the room, your breath catching in your throat as you took in your surroundings. The space was dimly lit, casting deep shadows across the walls, but you could tell it was large, much larger than the cramped quarters you had been kept in before. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with books, maps, and various trinkets that glimmered in the low light—treasures from far-off lands, you assumed. One side of the room was dominated by a large window that offered a breathtaking view of the endless sea, the horizon glowing with the last light of the setting sun. Just how long had you been waiting.

But what truly caught your attention was the man standing in front of the window, his back turned to you. He wore a black tunic that clung to his lean frame, the edges wrapped in black bandages that extended down to his palms. His tight leather pants emphasized his sharp, angular build, and though he wasn’t very tall, he exuded an aura of power and intimidation that filled the room. His hair was striking—half black, half white, styled into a short mullet that gave him an almost otherworldly appearance. He was nothing like you had imagined.

You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "H-hello?" you stuttered out, your words barely above a whisper.

The man turned slowly, revealing a face that was both haunting and mesmerising. What puzzled you most was the pair of dark sunglasses he wore, despite the fact that they were inside a dimly lit room. His lips curled into a menacing smile, one that sent a shiver down your spine. And then he spoke, his voice dripping with a honeyed malice, the same voice you had heard just before you had lost consciousness.

“Ahh, finally, the sleeping beauty is awake,” he drawled, his smile widening as he took a step toward her. His presence was suffocating, every movement deliberate and calculated. “Tell me, go ahead. Negotiate your life, beg if you must. Then we’ll see what to do with you.”

He moved to the large table in front of the window, sitting down with a casual grace that belied the danger he radiated. He propped his feet up on the table, the heavy black boots he wore catching your eye. They were stained with dark splotches of red, the sight of which made your stomach recoil.

You tried to speak, but your voice came out in stammers, very much unlike the confidence you held when you talked to the slavers. Your mind raced as you searched for something, anything, that might save you.

He lifted his sunglasses, his eyes were a striking grey, like an uncontainable storm. Suddenly the room felt even more suffocating than before.

“I said speak,” he commanded in a ruthlessly calm voice, it sent shivers down your spine. This man was something different.

You didn’t want to speak but words came out anyway, as if someone had physically forced you to. “I-I’m a navigator,” you blurted, your words tumbling over each other in a desperate rush. “I can help you—I’ve guided many ships through perilous waters. I can be useful to you. Please, if you spare me, I’ll do whatever you need. I’ve helped with multiple voyages, charted courses, and avoided storms…”

Your words trailed off as the man laughed, the sound echoing in the room like a cruel mockery. His laughter was sharp, cutting through your rambling pleas and leaving you in a stunned silence. You stood there, trembling, as his mirth subsided, feeling smaller and more like an insignificant fly everytime he looked you over.

Just as you were about to try again, the door behind you creaked open. You froze, your heart lurching in your chest as you heard the sound of boots on the wooden floor. You turned slightly, your eyes widening as seven men entered the room, including the one who had patched you up earlier. They spread out behind you, their presence like a barrier between you and the door, it made your knees weak.

The room felt much smaller now, the walls closing in on you as you stood there, trapped between the intimidating captain in front of you and the intimidating crew behind you. Your mind raced, the weight of the situation crashing down on you as you realised just how dire your circumstances had become.

You looked around, your eyes darting from one man to the next, taking in their appearances and trying to read the expressions on their faces. Each one of them exuded a certain aura, something you couldn’t quite decipher. But the tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to make your skin crawl.

The man in the centre, the one you assumed to be the captain, spoke again, his voice laced with a poisonous edge. “So, tell me, what should we do with this young lady here?”

One of the men stepped forward, his height almost matching that of the captain. He had a permanent smirk on his face, a look that immediately filled you with a sense of revulsion. “I told you earlier too—we should sell her. We’ll get paid a hefty sum for a pretty face like hers.”

Your expression twisted into one of disgust, your heart beating deafeningly at the casual cruelty in his words. But before you could react, another man spoke up, this one taller and far more muscular than the others. His broad shoulders and imposing frame made him look like a man who was used to handling trouble with his fists. “Hey, I thought we didn’t do that anymore,” he said, his tone almost childlike as he pouted, clearly not taking the situation as seriously as you wished he would.

The first man, with his smirk still firmly in place, shrugged, side eyeing his friend. “I was just joking,” he said, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise.

Before you could process that, a third man cut in, his voice sharp and dismissive. “It’s all a waste. Just throw her into the water for the sharks. She’s more trouble than she’s worth.”

Her heart dropped at the suggestion, fear gripping you tightly, but then the man who had healed you spoke up, his voice carrying a note of annoyance. “Hey, then what did I do all that healing for if she was just going to become fish food? We could have thrown her in before I wasted my time.”

The men began to bicker among themselves, their voices rising and overlapping as they argued over your fate. It was as if your life was nothing more than a trivial matter to be debated, and it felt like a cold wet blanket had been dropped on top of you.

The captain, watching the chaos unfold, chuckled to himself. With a wave of his hand, he silenced the room, his voice cutting through the noise with ease. “Now, now, boys, let’s not be hasty. She said she’s a navigator, didn’t she?” He turned his gaze back to you, his expression unreadable. “You see, our last man accidentally tipped over into the ocean, so we’re in need of a new navigator. Why don’t you give it a go? If you fail, well…” He paused, an innocent look spreading across his face, though his eyes remained cold. “Maybe you’ll end up with him.”

You stared at him, aghast at his words. The casual way he spoke of life and death, as if they were nothing more than a game. This was not a man who valued life—at least, not the lives of those he deemed beneath him. And now, your fate rested in the hands of this man who would as easily toss you overboard as he would give you a chance to prove your worth.

Your mind raced, a deadweight pressing down on you. You had no choice but to accept his offer—if it could even be called that. But deep down, you knew that this was only the beginning of a difficult journey, you had to play your cards right.

You agreed hastily, your voice trembling as you thanked him for sparing your life. The captain laughed again, a sound that was more chilling than comforting, before turning his attention away from you. "Someone, show her the way to her cell—oops, I meant room," he ordered, a wicked grin stretching across his face as he returned to the window, sunglasses coming back down, cackling all the way.

As he stared out at the darkening horizon, another man, much taller and with a gaunt appearance, followed him. His hair was stark white, and there was something about his hollow cheeks and sunken black eyes that made you shiver. He leaned in close to the captain, whispering in hushed tones, their conversation too quiet for you to hear. you could only watch as the two men exchanged words.

The rest of the men began to file out of the room slowly, their presence still made you uneasy in the back of your mind. In the end two of the tallest still stayed behind, one of them placing a firm hand on your shoulder and pushing you forward slightly. He seemed friendlier than the others, and he quickly said, "Let’s go," in a tone that was almost reassuring.

As you made your way out of the captain’s quarters, you noticed that his friend, who had stayed silent, was indifferent and least interested in you. He kept flipping a small, gleaming blade in his hand, the metallic click of the weapon opening and closing sending a wave of anxiety through you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to stab himself—or worse, you.

The friendlier man, walking beside you, began to speak quickly, his words tumbling out in a rush as he droned on about the different parts of the ship and the engineering behind them. He spoke so fast that you could barely understand him, but at least his upbeat demeanour was a welcome change from the coldness you had faced so far. His enthusiasm, however, was lost on you; all you could think about was the blade flicking in the other man's hand and the fact that you were at the mercy of these pirates.

After what felt like an endless walk, they reached a small room, on the opposite side of the captain’s quarters and suspiciously close to the main deck. The indifferent man, his voice surprisingly deep, said, "We’re here," before pushing you inside. You barely had time to protest before he quickly closed the door and locked it with a solid click.

The cheery one spoke up from behind the door, his face appearing in the small, barred window set into it. "There’s food for you on the table, and some spare clothes in the chest near the bed. The clothes might be big, but you’ll have to make do for now. There are also spare sheets in the chest, some paper and pencils, and water, of course. The room is locked for your own safety, and if you need help, just tap loudly a few times under the flower painting over the bed—someone will come to you. Good night!" And with that, his face disappeared, leaving you alone in the room.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the distant sound of boots echoing down the hallway until they, too, faded into nothingness. You stood there for a moment, shaken by the events of the day, unable to move or think. It was as if your body had finally caught up with the shock of it all, and you felt the weight of your situation settle heavily on your shoulders.

Slowly, you walked over to the table and saw the surprisingly good-looking food laid out for you. A nice bowl of hot stew, some fluffy bread, and roasted meat—simple, but more appetising than anything you had eaten in days. You sat down and began to eat, savouring every bite. You hadn’t realized just how hungry you were until now, and the warmth of the food filled you with a small measure of comfort. As you ate, tears welled up in your eyes and slowly started to drip down.

After finishing your meal, you opened the chest near the bed and found a white tunic and a pair of black linen shorts. The tunic was big, but you managed to hold it together with your own belt, and though the shorts were also loose and came down to your knees, you made do with what you had. You then lay down on the bed, the soft sheets a welcome relief against your skin.

As you stared up at the ceiling, your mind raced with thoughts of the day’s events. How easily you had been spared from death, or worse, and how it all seemed almost too simple. Was it all just to scare you, or was there something deeper going on behind the scenes? The uncertainty of it all terrified you, and you felt a pang of loneliness that threatened to overwhelm you.

But as much as your thoughts tormented you, the heavy exhaustion of your body and the gentle rocking of the ship slowly pulled you into a dreamless sleep.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Comment under masterlist to be added to taglist

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist: @yandere-stories @passionandsuga @beabatiny @sadtoru @pixie0627 @nagynomi98 @bunnychui

[ladydeatharcheron]

why is Elain week 99% el/riel content?

don't get me wrong, despite my personal preferences, i don't particularly care who ends up with who as long as it's well-written. but isn't the purpose of this week to bring light to Elain as a character? why has it suddenly shifted to being about a man? Elain is so much more than the ships she is being reduced to. she deserves to have her own week, where SHE is the main topic, where people can enjoy and post about her as a person, and not have her entire personality diminished to "how good she'd look with xyz". there is nothing wrong with shipping whoever you want to, but there's a time and place for everything. this is not it.

Elain has always been sidelined her entire life, forced to sit in the position her family has shaped for her. now, you're telling me you want to do the same during a week where she's supposed to be celebrated? whether you like it or not, it's raising the question of, are you guys really pro Elain or do you only care for her based on who she ends up with? c’mon guys. the female characters of ACOTAR have so much more to them than the men they are / could possibly be involved with.

disclaimer because I can already hear some of y'all coming from a mile away: I get that there has been some elucien fanart as well, but from what I could see, the el/riel posts are dominant. i’ve had to scroll through 13 el/riel posts (yes, i counted) before I can come across a single one involving Lucien. only 2-3 posts were about Elain herself, and in some of those, Azriel was tagged despite, quite literally, not being involved.

my point is, regardless of what character it is, if it's not a week that involves a specific ship, let's not take the spotlight away from that character in question.

[siblingskissing]

BNHA Couple Kissing Aesthetic

As always- this is a post of some of MY favorite BNHA Ships (aka the first ones i thought of) so if you don't see your fave/ don't like these ships- feel free to request!

EraserMic

These two kiss slow and passionate- being pro heroes, plus teachers (and in Yamada's case- a DJ), you don't have much energy or down time with your partner, so they make the most of it by giving as much attention and energy to each other as possible. Sometimes these kisses lead to more, but more often one or both of them fall asleep kissing- waking up with each other's morning breath. They both find it gross yet never seem to care by time they meet again that night. They're a gross old man couple <3

TodoDeku

(I think I did well finding a gif that looks exactly like them) These two are very touch starved- so when they kiss they both put their all into it. Shouto especially. He loves to hold Izuku's face and practically absorbs him every time they kiss. Doesn't matter if they're at home or in public- he is going to make sure Izuku feels everything he feels whenever they touch. Izuku just wishes they didn't have so many headlines with photos of them practically undressing on battlegrounds

BakuDeku

Like TodoDeku- both Katsuki and Izuku are prone to heavy and heat filled kisses. And with these two's history? Who could blame them? Katsuki likes showing off that he had Izuku- that Izuku belongs by his side- neck and neck with him- and Izuku would be lying if he said he didn't adore it. So much missed time between them also fuels this passion- both so desperate to have as much of each other as they can because they both know their jobs are dangerous. They don't want to regret not having enough

ShinDeku

Sort of like EraserMic- these two are very low energy when it comes to kisses. That's not to say they aren't passionate- but with Hitoshi's low energy levels from insomnia and Izuku's caring nature- they both have found ways to show affection without causing the other to fret over nonexistent relationship problems. During the day it's no uncommon to see Izuku plant kisses on Hitoshi's cheeks- or for Hitoshi to stop him and kiss the closest piece of skin he can (the most common is Izuku's knuckles or his shoulders). But when they're alone its usually slow and sensual kisses.

KiriMina

These two are the Paparazzi's favorite pairing- It's not rare to find photoshoots of these two being affectionate- whether they're in a relationship or not. Before they ever got together they were touchy- Eijirou always holding onto Ashido, touching her leg, her hands, once they had a photo go around of him holding one of her horns as she was interviewed for her latest takedown. Kisses were not uncommon either. Cheek kisses, kisses on the lips, foreheads, hands, the leg if it's close- these two were so confused when people assumed they were dating despite how affectionate they were in school. However when they began dating it only got worse. Now if Eijirou or Ashido even think there's a camera they'll be making out.

KiriBaku

What do you get when you mix and unstoppable force with an immovable wall? You get some of the meanest kissers you've ever witnessed. These two are not afraid to get concerningly into their kisses- I'm talking teeth, blood, spit and sweat. Katsuki isn't afraid to cut his lips on Eijirou's still unbreakable lips and Eijirou isn't afraid to taste blood. They get called the Hannigram couple because of how often they accidentally lick each other's blood and they only greet it with laughter.

TogaChako

Did you know there are two arteries that run across your forehead? Himiko does- and so does Uraraka now as they start dating. I know we all adore the vampire symbolism that comes with neck kisses- and trust me, they do too, but necks aren't the greatest spots for blood flow- foreheads however- foreheads are great spots to feel for arteries and veins. Himiko loves kisses over the Supraorbital Artery since it falls right by the eyebrow- a romantic spot already to kiss- but because of her blood based quirk, she can actually feel the pulse of her heart easily from the artery. She will kiss there whenever she is anxious- or two remind herself that Uraraka is alive and healthy. She also likes feeling her pulse quicken whenever Uraraka gets embarrassed.

DabiHawks

These two are used to quick and short flings with one another- its apart of their jobs. They both know if either side found out about them that it'd be taken from them- either by a decaying hand or by corporate measures. They know their relationship is dangerous- not only for the other but themselves too, so they keep their kisses to the confinement of their midnight meetings. Always in hidden shadows- alleyways and trees that Hawks flies them to. They kiss with everything- often with Hawks knocking his teeth on one of Dabi's staples or his piercings if the kisses travel. Dabi is often the reason why Hawks carries Chapstick- because when you're kissing for hours at a time, it gets dry fast.

TodoShinDeku

These three are kiss fanatics. Mixing Shouto's need for affection, Izuku's tendency to care for everybody at once, and Hitoshi's love for witnessing his partners- you'll often find them tucked away like these. Shouto and Izuku usually lock lips, while Hitoshi is usually late to join, but just as happy to kiss at the skin available to him. That isn't to say he never gets to steal lips for himself- but he's often just happy to watch the two of them, touching their hands and shoulders to show his appreciation for the view. That often earns him a hand in his hair, or fingers on his biceps as the two open their eyes to watch him in return. They make it a show- just for him and they all adore it

[forevermore05]

Hello everyone, as of recently, I have been getting hate for being a Zutara shipper. If you follow me or are a fellow mutual of mine, you know I remain respectful of everyone and try to be kind to everyone I come across. I also have my limits of keeping a smile on my face and watching this keep happening to me. I want to remind antis that the blog you are coming to spew hate to is run by a 19-year-old. It does not make you look good dragging a teenager (and to some people a CHILD). I have been told to off myself once and that was enough to lie low and go away for a month. I have intrusive thoughts I have to deal with every single day, don't make it harder than it already is. You coming to my page to “teach” me and open my eyes to how great aang and kataang is. Your not going to change my mind. Insulting me, telling me to off myself and outright calling a WOC's fears that came true in a character bullsh*t is insane. I want to be fair and kind. However, the more antis come to my page, the more bitter I get. I don't get into fights and don't use lewd language. I stay in my own lane and try to provide my perspectives in the community only to create healthy discussions. By the way, I have managed to do that and I'm proud I have done that. If you want to accuse me of things I'm not, I invite you to my page to read in-depth works about my opinions on Kataang and Aang. If I don't like a ship because a character forced himself onto his love interest, what's it to you. It's a perfectly valid reason. A DAMN good one at that. My question to you is, why don't you have a problem with those kisses?

When you try to humble me, you only make me determined to create better works.

I stay in my lane, and you STAY in your damn lane.

Don't dare look in my direction again with your hateful words.

I want to remain kind and thoughtful, don't make active moves to change that.

[zenkindoflove]

You guys do not want to go down the road of starting to make blanket declarations that specific ships are "problematic" and "triggering". And let me explain why.

ACOTAR fandom, in my experience, is notoriously very far removed from general fandom. It's big and dispersed across many platforms that weren't created around fandoms, and so a lot of people enter it having little to no experience in other fandoms.

This discourse about what is or isn't a problematic ship and what kind of person ships a couple like that is not new. Fandoms of yesterday yore have had long fights about this and a general consensus has emerged which is anytime you start playing the morality policing game around people having fun with fictional characters, everyone loses.

Let's take this situation with Elain Archeron Week which is explicitly banning submissions for Elain with characters who are canonically known to be abusive to a romantic partner. Generally, the spirit of character weeks are to be ship neutral and importantly a concept that has emerged from prior fandom morality policing debate is the term Ship and Let Ship. Which means just because something isn't YOUR ship doesn't mean you need to come up for reasons why it isn't CORRECT to ship.

So, you think it's morally incorrect and triggering for people to see Elain paired with an abuser or a "bad guy"? That is okay for your own personal beliefs but if you start making rules around it for something that is supposed to be inclusive where do you draw the line or what that means? How about pairing Elain with the guy who runs Night Court Abu Ghraib? A role that means he actually tortures people physically and mentally to the brink that they are forced to "confess" to crimes. Is that some how morally superior to another character who emotionally abused their partner and confined them to a house?

See. That didn't feel good. Now did it? Do you actually want to get into a discussion about which wrong is morally worse than the other? Especially when it concerns a character week that is supposed to be about positivity and people having fun because they love Elain and they love the different interactions she could potentially have with characters in fanon?

And that is the entire point. When it comes to fiction, we all will be seduced by characters who have done bad things. Things that will trigger people. But, and I mean this whole heartedly, no one else is responsible for your triggers but you. You are the only one who knows what you can and cannot handle. Your Mileage May Vary. Tumblr's tag filtering system is in part for this very reason because of how fandoms use tumblr.

When you have a fandom wide event space, generally it's a bad idea to start throwing up these judgmental rules around people's character interests and shipping habits. Of course, any event runner is entitled to do what they please. But you also have to expect those who are excluded or know people who will be excluded are going to have something to say about it.

I really think the entire ACOTAR fandom could benefit from getting curious for once and actually digging into the histories of fandom, fandom lore and vocabulary, and start learning from from fandom elders. If so, we'd all be able to navigate these situations with a shared language that recognizes that the primary goal of fandom is to have fun first. And everyone's fun is going to look different and each individual is responsible for deciding what their squicks and triggers are. And the whole point of a squick is to let someone know this thing bothers me personally but I understand if it doesn't bother you. That sort of back and forth empathy across each side is how fandoms don't burn down in flames and people don't feel shame about what they like in fiction.

Now any fandom event can make whatever rules they want. But what I already see is a bunch of people (e/riels) are now actually making posts about why others who ship Elain with Tamlin are morally inferior, disgusting, perverse, and bad people. But hear me out, someone can easily think and say the same thing about you and your ship and if that is the kind of environment you'd like to fuck around in, well, aren't we all the worse off for it.

[lilacmingi]

RUNAWAY

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Pirate!Hongjoong x pirate!fem reader

Word count: 8,270

Note: This is an imagine from April 2022 from my Wattpad. The pirate Ateez imagines are definitely some of my most popular ones and I’m SO excited to share them here! I wanted to do something to celebrate 200 followers but I don’t have any new stuff ready so I’ve decided to post my Ateez pirate imagines! 🏴‍☠️ Pirate AUs for the other members are linked at the end of the imagine!

The moon hung high in the clear night sky, the bright beam reflecting onto the peaceful waters below. The view of the dark horizon was tranquil and the complete opposite of the pandemonium that was taking place just a few feet behind you.

Singing, hollers of celebration, and the clanking of stein glasses became mere background noise as you gazed at the midnight sky above. The myriad of stars dotting the heavens were almost like fireflies in the forest, giving some light to the otherwise dark sky.

Hongjoong's crew was celebrating another successful day of pillaging—it was exhausting. You'd become rather numb to these so-called celebrations. It's just a bunch of men acting like drunken fools to you.

The crew belted out sea shanties in their intoxicated states, the sour notes coming out slurred and garbled. You cringed. You didn't know how much more of this you could take.

The sound of heavy boots stumbling towards you caught your attention. An arm was slung haphazardly over your shoulder, the force making you jerk forward a bit.

"Y/n." Hongjoong slurred slightly, his breath smelling of rum. "What are you doing all the way over here?"

"Watching the moon." You answered.

"Come join us. You're missing out."

"No thank you."

He frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I just don't care for celebrations."

"But you've always enjoyed our celebrations."

"Yeah, but it's becoming a bit... how do I put this? Lackluster."

Hongjoong scoffed. "Lackluster?"

"Yeah. I just don't enjoy it much anymore."

"Let me change your mind."

You glanced over to see Hongjoong's hand extended towards you, his many gold rings glimmering under the lit torches.

You started to deny him, but stopped, pressing your lips together in thought.

"C'mon." That all too familiar charming smirk of his spread across his soft-looking lips. "You wouldn't refuse a dance with me, would you?"

"I might." You teased, a playful grin threatening to break out onto your features.

He made a face at you in return.

"Alright." You caved, clasping his extended hand. "I'll dance with you."

"I knew you couldn't resist." He simpered, leading you towards the middle of the main deck.

The drunken singing of the crew was much louder now that you were right in the middle of it. Hongjoong's cheeks were stained pink from the alcohol, no doubt, as he grinned brightly, taking your other hand. The two of you began spinning and skipping to the stomp of the crew's boots against the wooden boards of the ship. Neither of you ever really learned how to properly dance, but when you're a pirate, that doesn't matter much.

As you bounded in circles, you found yourself enjoying it more and more. The two of you danced in no particular rhythm, stomping your feet and bouncing around like fools. Your hands stayed clasped together as you swung them around, your joint laughter filling the air.

Once the chanting and off-key singing of the crew died down, you and Hongjoong ceased your dancing.

"See? That was fun, wasn't it?" He grinned.

"It was." You agreed, fixing the errant strands of his scruffy mullet.

"You always enjoy dancing with me."

"I do." You admitted.

"C'mon. Have something to drink." He pulled you towards one of the barrels set up and took it upon himself to fill up a stein.

He handed it to you with a smile. You reluctantly took it, taking a sip of the dark liquid.

"Next time we dock, I'll try and get some nice wine. How about that?" Hongjoong suggested.

"That would be wonderful. I'm starting to tire of rum."

"Hey, if you won't drink it, I will." Hongjoong reached out to grab the glass from you.

"Wait." You pulled it away. "Are you sure you should have any more?"

"Of course! You can never have enough alcohol."

"How many of these have you had?" You questioned, referring to the large stein in your hand.

"Three."

You pressed your lips together, hesitant to hand over the drink. Then again, Hongjoong is as stubborn as a mule. If you don't give it to him, he'll just make himself another glass.

"Very well, then." You gave in, handing over the glass.

"Thanks, lovely." He winked, taking the beverage from you.

You watched as he sauntered off, joining his crew to clink steins with them. One of the crew members began singing yet another drunken shanty, causing everyone to start dancing again. Hongjoong held his wooden stein up in the air, alcohol sloshing onto the deck as his crew cheered him on.

"Say my name!" He shouted.

"Captain Hongjoong! Captain Hongjoong! Captain Hongjoong!" They chanted, fueling his ego.

You could tell he loved that. He loved being the captain. It was his dream, after all.

A yawn spilled from your lips, catching you off guard. You hadn't realized how tired you were.

You stepped away from the railing of the ship and began to head towards the captain's cabin to turn in for the night.

You and Hongjoong shared a room, exactly the way he wanted. You were the only female on the ship and Hongjoong's dearest friend, as well as his right hand woman, so he wanted to make sure you stayed close, which is why you got the best room on the ship.

On the way to your shared room, you noticed someone sitting on the steps leading to the quarterdeck. He was hunched over, a head of soft, brown hair resting on the top of his knees. You were curious as to who was crouched on the steps alone. You had been on the ship for years and were familiar with every crew member, but you weren't sure who this was.

"Excuse me. Are you okay?" You asked, approaching the male.

He lifted his head, large, brown eyes looking up at you.

"Oh, Minho." You smiled, warmly. "I thought you'd be over there with everyone else." You spoke, gesturing to the celebration taking place a few feet behind you.

"No." He shook his head. "I'm not one for celebrations. They've become too hectic for me. To be honest, I thought you'd be over there. You're always with Hongjoong."

"Yeah, well, I've had my fill of celebrations for the night." You told him. "Hongjoong is on his own tonight. I've decided to turn in for the night."

"Well, I don't want to keep you out here. Sleep tight." He smiled.

"Thanks, Minho."

You stepped into your room, closing the door behind you.

Hongjoong's bed was unmade, as usual and his desk was an absolute mess. He was never one to clean up after himself. Apparently, he "has other things to worry about." You let out a sigh as you walked over to his desk where papers and books were scattered over the surface. The entire tabletop was in disarray. As much as you wanted to clean it up, you knew everything was more than likely left in place for a reason. So, you did the least you could possibly do, which was throw away any wadded pieces of paper as well as collect all of the pens and pencils scattered across the desk, placing them all into a cup.

You told yourself you'd stop and go to bed after that, but you didn't. You ended up stacking all the papers strewn across Hongjoong's desk, putting them in one, neat pile. Upon doing so, you discovered a large map spread across the tabletop. Your head tilted to the side when you noticed a red dot on the map. Normally, a red dot indicated that the town was going to be raided for supplies. You tried to read the name of the town, unable

to see well in the dimply lit room. Your eyes squinted as you leaned towards the map, until you heard a commotion just outside the cabin, which caused you to scurry away from Hongjoong's desk.

You made yourself busy, pulling back the covers on your bed, only to find that it was just a false alarm. The noises you heard were merely drunken crew mates making a ruckus.

You glanced back towards Hongjoong's desk sitting on the other side of the room, tempted to go back and look at the map, but you decided against it, choosing to get ready for bed.

You turned the knob on the oil lamp, dimming the light so you'd be able to rest. You wanted Hongjoong to be able to see when he finally came to bed, so you didn't put it out all the way.

As you laid in bed, your mind began to drift towards the map, your curiosity getting the best of you. Your head lifted from the pillow, your eyes staring across the room at Hongjoong's desk. Then, without thinking you flung the covers off of you and grabbed the oil lamp, moving across the room to the map spread on the table.

The dim glow of the low-burning flame illuminated the chart enough to where you could finally read the name of the town. You blinked a few times, getting a second look at it, wondering if you misread it.

"That can't be right." You murmured.

Worried about getting caught, you scurried back to bed and attempted to go to sleep. Instead of worrying about what you saw on that map, you just chose to confront Hongjoong about it the next day.

The sea breeze blew through your hair as you stood by Hongjoong's side on the forecastle deck.

"There's a town close by that we're going to pillage." He informed you as he steered the gigantic vessel.

"Was that the town you had marked in red on your map?"

"How did you know that?"

"I saw it on your desk last night. That town isn't a bad town. There's good people living there. Why would you plan to pillage it?"

"We need supplies. Plus, they're nearby."

"That's your reasoning?" You questioned.

"Yeah."

"Hongjoong, that town is well known for giving things to those in need. You should find another town to get supplies from."

"If that's true, then looting the town should be easy." He shrugged.

You were appalled, unable to believe what he just said.

"It makes more sense to go there because it's closer. We don't have enough supplies to last long enough to make it to the next town."

"Then ration our provisions."

"I can't do that."

"Yes you can. I'm not asking for much. Ration until we reach the next town."

You could tell Hongjoong was getting agitated, but you wouldn't have him pillage a town that didn't deserve it.

"What I say goes, and I say we're raiding that town."

"I want you to wait and raid another town."

"Well, you're not the captain, are you, Y/n?"

"No, but I am your friend." You responded, harshly, stepping forward to grab the wheel.

"Hey!" Hongjoong shouted. "What are you doing?"

"Steering us away from that town."

You began to fight with him, the wheel being pulled back and forth like a tug of war.

"Why don't you listen to me?" You asked.

"I'm the captain!" He snapped. "Not you!"

Hongjoong shoved you away, causing you to stumble back and fall onto the deck. A hiss left you as pain shot up your hip and elbow. You thought maybe your friend would feel some sort of remorse, but he only stared down at you, looking only mildly surprised at his actions.

You clenched your jaw and pushed yourself up off the deck, knowing you lost this fight.

"Forget it. I'm tired of this."

You stormed off the forecastle deck, getting as far away from Hongjoong as you could. You were absolutely fuming, wanting to unleash the burning anger inside. Hongjoong only raids towns that steal from the poor. Never has he even considered looting a town so generous—until now, apparently.

The way he simply brushed off the fact that he was about to pillage a small town that didn't deserve it made your blood boil. Truthfully, you don't think he understands the weight of his actions. He'll leave that town with hardly anything. They won't have anything left.

The sound of boots hitting the deck pulled your from your thoughts. Turning your head, you spotted Minho approaching you.

"You alright?" He asked.

Your lips pressed together as you briefly contemplated lying to him.

"No."

"I heard a commotion on the forecastle deck and wanted to check on you. I assume you and Captain got in a fight?"

"It's the first fight we've ever had. He wants to raid a town because it's nearby. I tired to talk him out of it because the town provides for others."

"That doesn't seem right." Minho responded.

"It's not. I tried to make him change his mind, but he just kept saying we don't have enough supplies and we have to dock there. I suggested rationing what we have and he completely shot down the idea."

Minho frowned in distaste. "Why is it so difficult to ration?"

"I don't know." You sighed, shaking your head. "He's never acted like this before. I don't know what's happening to him."

"I'm sorry he's being such a jerk."

"Me too. Sorry for dumping all of this onto you. I should have just lied and said I was okay."

"No." Minho shook his head. "I'm glad you were honest. It's not good to bottle things up. If you ever need to talk, I'm here. Okay?"

You nodded, giving him a weak smile.

The day went on and you tried your hardest to keep your distance, avoiding Hongjoong by any and all means. Much your dismay, Hongjoong had announced to the crew his plans of looting the poor town. You were set to dock in just a couple days.

When night settled over the sky, you began making your way towards the captain's quarters, only to stop in your tracks. Did you even want to sleep in the same room as Hongjoong?

You turned on your heel, redirecting your route to the crew's sleeping quarters, heading directly to one room in particular.

Your knuckles knocked lightly on the bedroom door, waiting for an answer. It creaked open just a few seconds later.

"Oh, Y/n. What are you doing here? Is everything alright?" Minho asked.

"Yeah. This might sound like a weird question, but is it alright if I stay with you tonight?"

His large eyes widened in surprise.

"Hongjoong and I aren't on good terms at the moment, which you already know, and I don't really want to share a room with him now."

"I understand." He nodded, stepping aside. "Come on in."

You volunteered to sleep on the floor, but Minho wouldn't allow it, offering you his bed. So, that's where you slept.

The ocean was rather choppy today, much like the situation you were currently in. The white-capped waves dominated the majority of the waters' surface, the ship lurching with each forceful push of the sea below, sending a spray of salt water up the side of the vessel.

"Alright men, all hands on deck!" Hongjoong instructed. "There's a storm coming in from the north."

"Yes, Captain." The crew responded.

You wanted to ask Hongjoong if he needed your help with anything, but the two of you were not on speaking terms at the moment, so you held your tongue.

"Man the sails!" Hongjoong shouted more commands, sternly.

He's absolutely deserving of being captain. Despite his small stature, he carried a very powerful and commanding presence, his aura almost threatening at times. However, at the end of the day, he was still the sweet Hongjoong you grew up with—well, up until recently. You said you would follow him to the ends of the earth. He was your best friend, after all. Now, you're not sure who he is.

Years ago, when the two of you had just recently turned 18, Hongjoong had this grand idea to escape.

"We're gonna get out of here." He told you.

"And go where?" You inquired.

"Anywhere. Everywhere." He answered, his eyes twinkling. "Sail the seas."

"You want to be a pirate?" You questioned.

"Yes! It would be so much fun. No rules, no nothing." He turned to you with a smile. "Will you join me?"

The excited gleam in his eye let you know how serious he was about this unattainable dream. Despite that, the idea of sailing the seas and living a rule-free pirate life thrilled you.

"Yes."

Look where that got you.

A loud boom of thunder rumbled in the ominous sky above, dark, menacing clouds swirled over the ocean. You stepped away from the railing, watching as the crew scurried across the deck, preparing for the storm brewing in the atmosphere.

Hongjoong was busying himself by barking orders at crew mates, rushing them along. He was unusually snappy today, no doubt because of your little fight yesterday.

"What are you doing?" He shouted, angrily. "Furl the mainsail! The storm is approaching!"

Truthfully, you were surprised he hadn't said anything to you about not sleeping in your own bed last night. Then again, maybe he didn't care.

A raindrop hit the top of your head, catching your attention. It didn't take long for the stray drops to turn into a torrential downpour. The rain came down in sheets, pounding on the deck, making puddles almost instantly.

You noticed Minho struggling with one of the masts, hurrying over to assist him.

"Thanks." He breathed.

A gust of wind blew by, whipping your hair in every direction.

"We should get inside!" Minho yelled over the howling winds.

You nodded in agreement as his hand found yours, leading you towards the crew's sleeping quarters to get out of the harsh winds and piercing rain.

Little did you know, Hongjoong was watching, his sharp eyes trained on yours and Minho's intertwined hands.

The ship made it out of the storm unscathed and went on its way to the small, unsuspecting town. Part of you had hoped the storm would somehow get the ship off-route and Hongjoong would be forced to ration supplies and hold off on the raid until you made it to the next town.

The pillaging went on as planned. Like all raids, the looting took place at night. Hongjoong always said it was better to do these things under the cover of darkness.

You stayed on the ship, of course, unable to join in on the raiding. Your conscience wouldn't let you. To your surprise, Minho stayed behind too. Like you, he couldn't bear to be a part of the merciless thievery that was taking place.

It didn't take long for the two of you to hear multiple pairs of booted feet thudding hurriedly against the main deck, followed by the sounds of heavy objects being set down. Your heart sank, knowing the raid was over and the town was left without many of their supplies. For the first time since stepping foot on this ship, you felt sick.

It didn't take long for the music and rhythmic stomping of feet to begin, letting you know the celebrations had already kicked off.

Minho's top lip curled in distaste as he stared in the direction of the main deck.

"I can't sit here and let them celebrate this heinous act." You muttered, pushing yourself to your feet.

You stormed up onto the main deck where Hongjoong was standing up on a cluster of crates, barrels, and burlap sacks dancing and celebrating.

"So you ended up raiding that town?" You inquired with crossed arms.

"Of course I did." He responded before turning to the crew. "And it was a raging success!"

The crew cheered with him, which only fueled your anger.

"I wouldn't call it a raging success if you're stealing from people who do good."

"It's not like we killed anyone." He rolled his eyes.

"No, but you left that town to suffer. The attack was unprovoked."

"Don't get your trousers in a wad, Y/n. We're pirates. We pillage and plunder, it's what we do." Hongjoong responded casually.

Your fists unconsciously clenched as you tried your hardest to bite back rage. Instead of opening your mouth and allowing your scathing words to escape, you whirled around and returned to Minho's room.

The door slammed shut behind you as the brown-haired male lifted his gaze, waiting for you to speak.

"Minho, can you keep a secret?"

In the dead of night while everyone was asleep and/or passed out from alcohol consumption, you snuck out onto the main deck with a small bag of your belongings, heading for the rowboat. You planned to escape the godforsaken ship that once felt like home. Minho, who knew about your plan of action, promised not to breathe a word of your whereabouts. He even offered to assist you.

Said pirate followed you outside and helped lower you into the water once you were inside the boat.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" He questioned.

"I'm sure. Being captain has gotten to Hongjoong's head and after that little stunt he pulled earlier tonight, I can no longer stand by his side."

Minho nodded, somberly. "I understand. Good luck."

"Thank you."

The boat was lowered the rest of the way into the water and you began making your way towards the town. Equipped with just the necessities, you started your journey, using just a compass and a messy, hand-drawn copy of Hongjoong's map.

You didn't feel the slightest bit of remorse as you rowed further from the ship, watching as it got smaller and smaller. You didn't really care if Hongjoong knew you left. He made it very clear that he was the captain and what he says goes. It was painfully evident that he didn't need you anymore; if anything, you were doing him a favor. On the off chance that he did freak out in wake of your disappearance, you'd never know, nor would you care.

"Serves him right." You muttered.

To your surprise, it only took you the entirety of the night to arrive at the marauded town. Your arms were throbbing and you were in need of sleep, but were happy to have arrived at your destination. You used an old rope to tie your row boat to the dock before stepping out onto the landing.

The first thing you noticed about your surroundings was the stacks of crates and barrels that had been emptied and toppled over. The remnants of last night's pillaging was obvious and heartbreaking. You slowly made your way off the dock and into the town where you were met with more wreckage—it was horrible. The more you saw, the angrier you became, wanting nothing more than to curse Hongjoong up one side and down the other. Being on a pirate ship for so long, you managed to learn some insults you didn't even know existed and you wanted to use every single one on Kim Hongjoong.

People were trying to clean up the aftermath of the pillaging from the previous night, doing their best to put the town back together. You spotted a nearby hostel, a middle-aged woman crouched on the ground outside, attempting to tidy up the small flowerbed that looked as if it had been trampled on.

"Excuse me." You called out, gently.

The woman lifted her head. "Oh, hello. Can I help you?"

"I was wondering if you had any vacancies."

"As a matter of fact, I do." She smiled, softly, dusting her hands off on her apron. "You look like you need a good night's rest. Have you traveled far?"

"All night." You responded.

"I'll get you checked in right away. Follow me." You trailed behind the woman as she entered the house, going behind the front counter. "Sorry. We're a little short-staffed. There was a pirate pillaging last night. All but one of my employees quit—and he can't quit because he's my son. That sort of thing just doesn't happen here, so it really scared the workers."

"If you need help, I'd be happy to lend a hand." You told her.

"No, dear. You need rest."

"It's fine." You brushed it off. "It's daytime anyway. It's best I stay up."

"Are you sure, dear?"

"Of course. It seems like you could really use the extra help."

"If you insist. I won't turn down someone who's so willing to lend a helping hand. I'll show you to your room and bring you some working clothes."

"Great." You smiled, following her to the room you'd be staying in.

It was small, cozy, and equipped with only the necessities.

"So, what's your name?" She asked as you looked around the room.

"Y/n." You answered.

"That's a lovely name. You can call me Mrs. Park."

"Well, Mrs. Park, I'd like to stay here for a few days. How much do I owe you for it?" You asked, turning to her.

"Free of charge."

"I can pay for it. It's fine." You insisted.

Mrs. Park held her hand up to stop you.

"You're doing me a huge favor by offering to help me out. It's the least I can do."

"Well, thank you. I appreciate it."

"Like I said, it's the least I can do. We have running water. If you'd like, you can go wash up and I'll bring you a change of clothes and an apron. Then, we can get started on the work."

You didn't bring a lot with you, so getting settled wasn't a problem at all. You did take advantage of the running water Mrs. Park told you about. Being at sea, you haven't had access to clean water, therefore you've not been able to properly bathe. The closest you got to a bath was a quick dip in the ocean with a bar of soap. Shampoo, conditioner, and soap was provided for you, which you were immensely thankful for.

You felt rejuvenated after your bath. In fact, you felt like a whole new new person.

After stepping out of the bathroom, you spotted a neatly folded stack of clothes on your bed.

Normally, you'd wear a large, cream-colored shirt with ruffled sleeves tucked into a pair or trousers and black boots. The clothes Mrs. Park had provided you with contrasted greatly with your usual attire. In your hands was a long, navy-colored dress that laced up in the back, the garment made with thick material, as well as an apron to wear over the dress. As a pirate, you never wore dresses. They weren't really your thing, anyway. However, you were trying to start a new life, and that new life required you to wear the dress in your hands, so you put it on.

You were surprised by your reflection, hardly recognizing the person staring back. Your hair, which had started to dry, was fluffy and bouncy. The outfit was different, but you didn't hate it. You would have preferred pants, but you were willing to compromise since you had a place to stay.

Not wanting to waste too much time, you headed to the lobby.

"Mrs. Park, I'm ready to get started."

"Y/n?" Hongjoong called out.

He hadn't seen you all day. He was still a bit upset with you for the way you reacted the other day as well as last night, but when he didn't see you, not even with Minho, he began to worry.

"Y/n!" He called out again much louder, hurrying across the deck. "Has anyone seen Y/n?"

No answer.

In a panic, he peered over the side of the ship, noticing the row boat was gone. His head snapped towards the sails where Minho was standing.

"Minho!" He shouted, stomping over to the man. "Where is she?"

Minho didn't even spare a glance at Hongjoong and continued straightening out the rigging.

"I'm sure she's around here somewhere." He responded, nonchalantly.

"Don't make me ask again."

"I don't know where she is."

"Stop lying. I know the two of you have been spending time together. Where is she?"

"Away from you." Minho responded, his tone becoming snappy.

Hongjoong reached for his cutlass, pulling it from its sheath and pointing it at Minho's neck.

"Tell me where Y/n is." He demanded.

"You're the captain, you're smart. Why don't you figure it out?"

Hongjoong's jaw clenched, his patience being pushed to its limits. Then, suddenly, it clicked. You had to have gone to that town.

Hongjoong put his cutlass back in its sheath and turned around on his heel.

"We're changing course!" He announced. "I know where Y/n is. We're going to get her."

Working at the small hostel was wonderful. You found that you enjoyed it very much. Unlike life on Hongjoong's ship where you did the same thing every day, you did something different each day here. It was a nice change.

The day you arrived at the town, you were introduced to Mrs. Park's son, Seonghwa. He normally took care of washing the sheets and putting the beds back together. Sometimes he helped out in the kitchen and cooked meals for the residents. Now that all of the staff members had quit, he had to take up most of the slack. The two of you got along well and it made working at the hostel a lot more fun.

Mrs. Park had sent you and Seonghwa to the market to get some things she had run out of. She rushed the two of you out the door, going on about how dire it was that she get these items. She wanted to make a cake for you, which she had mentioned was her specialty, so getting the ingredients was very important.

"Alright. Eggs, flour, and sugar." You read off the list. "We got the sugar. Just a couple more things and we're good to go."

You picked up a small sack of flour and put it into the basket Seonghwa had tossed over his arm. That was the system. You grabbed the groceries, Seonghwa carried them.

"My mom really appreciates your help. When those pirates came though and everyone quit, she was really scared. She didn't know how she'd be able to take care of the place."

"Seems like I showed up at the right time."

"You did." He nodded with a smile. "I know it's only been a week, but things are starting to get back to normal, I think. Everyone seems to have recovered. I just hope it doesn't happen again."

"Me too." You responded, picking up a carton of eggs.

Unbeknownst go you, Hongjoong's ship had just docked at the town and the captain was making his way down the wharf.

You had just paid the cashier for the groceries and were headed back to the hostel when suddenly your wrist was grabbed and you were pulled away from Seonghwa into a small alley between two buildings. You jerked in the person's grip, trying to break free until you saw their face.

"What are you doing here?" You spat.

"What are you doing here?" Hongjoong turned the question back to you. "And what in the seven seas are you wearing?"

"I'm helping, and if you must know, this is the uniform I was given."

"Uniform?" He repeated, his face twisted in distaste.

"I'm working at a small hostel. Did you know all of the staff quit after your little rampage?"

You could see Hongjoong's eyes soften for a moment before he quickly covered it up.

"Why did you even come looking for me?" You questioned, harshly.

"You're part of my crew."

"Is that all I am to you? Just a crew member?"

"No."

"Well, that's what it feels like. Now if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

You started to walk away when Hongjoong grabbed you again.

"No you don't. You're coming back with me."

"I'm staying here."

"You don't have a choice, Y/n."

You jerked your arm away. "I do, and I choose to stay. You obviously don't need me back on that ship. You wasted your time coming back for me."

"You're wrong. I need you."

"You don't. You're the captain, remember? You make the decisions yourself. You don't need me to tell you what to do because in the end, you'll do what you want."

He opened his mouth to speak, but you continued.

"This whole captain thing has gone to your head. What happened to the Hongjoong I used to know?"

"I'm still the same Hongjoong."

"No, you're not. You've changed."

That's the last thing you said before walking back to Seonghwa, who was standing in the middle of the street with his mouth hanging open, his face as white as a sheet.

"Let's go." You grabbed his arm, pulling him in the direction of the hostel.

"D-do you know him?" Seonghwa asked, his head turned to stare at Hongjoong.

"I used to."

"He's the captain of the pirate crew that looted our town."

"I know."

"What?"

"It's a long story."

"If you're with him, then—"

"I'm not with him. I ran away. He wanted to pillage your town and I told him not to because this town is so selfless, but he didn't listen, so I left the ship."

"You're a pirate?" Seonghwa gaped.

"Yes."

"Is he going to take you back?"

"He's trying to."

Once you got back to the hostel, you gave Mrs. Park the items she asked for and hurried to your room, Seonghwa following behind.

"What are you going to do?" He asked.

"I don't know." You muttered, pacing back and forth. "I didn't know he'd come looking for me."

Just then, a loud thump came from the somewhere downstairs. You and Seonghwa shared a wide-eyed look before hurrying to the door. You peered over the shallow staircase and spotted Hongjoong at the front desk.

"You wouldn't happen to how a Y/n, would you?" He asked.

"No." Mrs. Park lied.

"I know she's here." Hongjoong spat.c"Where's her room?"

"Crap." You whispered, retreating to your bedroom where you frantically began packing your things.

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" Seonghwa questioned.

"I don't know. Away from here."

The dress you wore was restricting you immensely, making it hard for you to move around.

"I hate this thing." You grumbled.

"I have an idea. I'll go distract him while you change and make your escape."

You gave him a nod and gathered the clothes you arrived in, which had so generously been washed by Mrs. Park.

While Seonghwa was downstairs stalling, you quickly stripped off the confining dress, changing into your comfortable pirate attire. Not wanting to leave things in a mess, you hastily folded the dress and apron, lying it on the bed before you snuck out the window.

"You!" Hongjoong pointed when Seonghwa appeared downstairs. "Tell me where Y/n is."

"She's not here."

"Yes she is. Where are you hiding her?" He pressed.

"I already told you. She's not here."

Hongjoong's lip curled into a snarl as realization struck him. He then rushed out the front entrance, turning the corner to catch you just as your feet landed on the ground.

You were relived, feeling like you had successfully made your escape.

"You didn't think you could get away from me that easily, did you?"

Your heart sank.

Hongjoong grabbed you, pulling you out into the streets, yanking you towards the docks. You jerked and writhed in his grip, shouting at him to let go, but he wouldn't listen. Your heels dug into the dirt as you tried to stop Hongjoong, but it didn't work. His grip on you was too strong.

Seonghwa, who rushed out after Hongjoong, spotted him as he pulled you through town.

No one dared to help. It was obvious the townspeople recognized Hongjoong from the pillaging a week prior. They wouldn't dare try and stand up to him.

"I hate you!" You spat.

"I could care less about your feelings towards me."

"Clearly you do. If you didn't care that I was mad at you, you wouldn't have come looking for me."

His hand tightened around your wrist, which let you know you struck a nerve.

"Let go of me." You hissed.

"Not until we're back on the ship."

"Hey!" Someone cut in.

Hongjoong stopped in his tracks, turning to see who had shouted at him. You turned as well, gasping when you saw Seonghwa standing on the dock a few feet behind you.

"Let her go."

"And who do you think you are?"

"Her friend."

Hongjoong scoffed. "You've only known her for a week. You're not her friend. I'm her friend."

"Really? It doesn't look like it."

Hongjoong used his free hand to pull out his pistol, pointing it at Seonghwa.

"Stay out of our business before I put a bullet in your head."

"Hongjoong!" You snapped, pushing the barrel down. "What is wrong with you?"

He gave you a sharp glare before you turned to the man attempting to save you.

"Seonghwa." You placed your free hand on his shoulder. "I need to go."

"What?" He asked in disbelief. "You're going back?"

"I have to. There's things that need to be dealt with."

Seonghwa gave Hongjoong a skeptical look.

"It's not what you want, though."

"It's what needs to be done. Tell your mom I'm glad I could help her out, but that I needed to go. Good luck with your business."

Seonghwa gave you a sad look, but nodded in understanding.

As soon as Hongjoong had you back on the ship, he let you go, beginning to bark orders at the crew.

"Let's get out of here!"

While he was distracted, you hurried off, searching for Minho. You hadn't seen him on the deck, so you thought he was in his room.

You burst into his bedroom, but he was nowhere to be seen. After searching different areas of the ship, you found him in the galley, cleaning the tables.

"Minho!"

"Y/n. You're back." He responded, seeming surprised.

"Not by choice."

"Well, just because you're being forced to stay on this ship, doesn't mean you should be forced to be around Hongjoong. You can stay in my room if you want to."

"Thank you. What are you doing down here?"

"Hongjoong put me on kitchen duty when I refused to tell him where you were."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. I don't mind cleaning up down here."

"Well, I appreciate that you kept my secret and tried to protect me." You smiled, giving him a light hug.

Just then, Hongjoong burst into the galley.

"I look away for two seconds and you've run off again. Now I find you hanging all over him."

He stormed over, grabbing your upper arm.

"Come here. We have some talking to do."

"Let go of her." Minho snapped. "You've forced her back on this ship. That should be enough."

"I'll deal with you later." Hongjoong pointed, pulling you out of the room.

You shouted at him as he dragged you all the way to the captain's quarters, calling him every name you could think of. Even when he released your arm, you continued ranting and raving.

"I can't even explain how angry I am right now!"

The door was then locked shut, causing you to spin around, abruptly. Hongjoong stood a few feet from you, his eyes dark as they stared into yours.

"Don't look at me like that. You have no right to be acting this w—"

You were cut off as Hongjoong pressed you against the door, his arms trapping you.

"I have every right to be acting this way. You're mine, remember?"

"I'm no one's."

You had barely gotten the sentence out of your mouth when his lips pressed harshly against yours. You had no time to react and were left frozen in place, your mind scrambling to make sense of what was going on.

Your eyes unconsciously fluttered closed as you allowed yourself to give in momentarily.

Hongjoong kissed you hungrily, letting out small growls that vibrated against your lips. You wanted so desperately to push him away. Your mind screamed at you to do so, but you couldn't. He had your mind in such a fog you couldn't seem to care what was wrong and what was right. Hongjoong's head tilted to the side, allowing his mouth to fit more closely with yours.

This is not right. This is not right.

Your senses finally kicked in and you pulled away, your hand making contact with Hongjoong's cheek as a resounding smack filled the air.

"What's wrong with you?"

Hongjoong placed a hand on his stinging cheek as he took a step back, a mildly shocked expression on his face.

"You got mad that I ran away, chased me down, acted like the biggest jerk ever, then all of a sudden you just kiss me?" You questioned. "What did you think that was gonna do?"

"I..." He trailed off.

"If you thought I would confess my love to you and forgive you, you're wrong. I don't love you. I love the old Hongjoong. The one who isn't this." You said, gesturing to him. "Just so you know, I'm sleeping in Minho's room tonight. If you need me, that's where I'll be." You told him, turning to leave.

"Wait." Hongjoong took hold of your wrist, this time much more softly, almost pleading. "Don't go."

You gave him an expectant look, waiting to see what he had to say. Though he was being a pompous jerk, he was still your friend and you were willing to hear him out.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what's gotten into me lately. You're right. This whole captain thing has gotten to my head. Being a pirate and being in charge of everyone made me feel like I could take whatever I wanted, that included you."

He paused, collecting his thoughts before continuing.

"The truth is, I love you—yes, I said love. Before you and I started this journey together I liked you, but over the years that turned into something more. My feelings for you combined with my sudden superiority complex made me think you belonged to me. In reality, I just couldn't stand the thought of not seeing you again. It made my chest hurt."

Your gaze softened a bit.

Truthfully, you'd held some feelings for Hongjoong. Though, you tried to bury them, they were slowly resurfacing after his heartfelt confession.

"I had no reason to go after you like that. I should have just let you stay. You were right. You don't belong to me." He added.

That's all it took.

You grabbed his collar, pulling him forward and swiftly placing your lips on his. Hongjoong's words meant a lot to you and you were more than willing to forgive him.

He was stiff at first, not expecting you to initiate the kiss. Then, once he registered what was happening he started to reciprocate, kissing you with just as much hunger and ferocity as he was minutes earlier. There was so much passion and desperation in the kiss that it left you breathless. One of his hands made it's way to your waist while the other rested on your upper back, pulling you closer to him. His lips fully encased yours a few times before taking your bottom lips between his teeth. You were blown away by his kissing skills, your mind and body turning to mush.

When he parted ways, you found yourself gasping for breath, your chest heaving up and down. You didn't get a lot of time to relax as Hongjoong began leaving open-mouth kisses down your neck. Your breath caught in your throat as your fingers tangled themselves in Hongjoong's tousled mullet, grabbing at the long strands. Small gasps left you when his teeth grazed your skin. You never thought he would be so bold, but you weren't complaining at all.

Hongjoong pulled away, his eyes glazed over as he stared into your own. His lips were puffy from the intense makeout session and his cheeks were flushed—and this time it wasn't from alcohol.

"Don't ever run away from me again." He murmured hoarsely, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

"Don't do anything stupid and I won't."

He let out a short chuckle. "I promise. I also wanna say that I'm sorry for looting that town. I should have listened to you. I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you."

"Whatever it takes?" You questioned.

He nodded.

"Well, there is one thing."

Hongjoong returned the stolen items to the small town, apologizing for his actions. He continuously said he wasn't the type of person to do such horrible things and that he hopes the townspeople could forgive him.

Being the selfless people they were, the citizens forgave Hongjoong and even allowed him to keep some of the things he and the crew had looted. It was just enough supplies to last everyone until they got to another town. Mrs. Park and Seonghwa were happy to see you and understood that, while you had a good time staying in the town, your true home was at sea with Hongjoong. Mrs. Park even gave you her specialty cake as a parting gift.

"I baked it after you left." She told you.

"Don't you want to save some of this for yourself?"

"No." She shook her head. "You take it. Share it with the crew and that headstrong captain of yours."

You chuckled at her choice of adjective.

"He wasn't always so headstrong." You commented, glancing across the way at Hongjoong as he chatted with one of the townspeople. "That's why I'm here to be his voice of reason."

"Good." Mrs. Park smiled. "A man like him needs a strong woman by his side to keep him in check."

You chuckled lightly in response.

"Hey." Hongjoong cut in as he approached, snaking an arm around your waist. "We should get going."

You gave Seonghwa and Mrs. Park a bittersweet smile. "Thank you both for all the fond memories and giving me somewhat of a vacation."

"You're welcome." Seonghwa grinned.

"Come back anytime, dear." Mrs. Park smiled warmly.

With that, everyone boarded the ship and set sail once again.

"Mrs. Park gave me a cake." You smiled, showing Hongjoong. "It's her specialty."

"Looks good. Why don't we try it out?"

"It's to share with the crew." You told him, pulling it away.

"I'll share." Hongjoong responded with pleading eyes.

"I'll make sure you do."

"Hey." He piped up. "You know what goes good with cake?"

"What?"

"A party!"

For the first time in months, a party actually sounded fun.

Sour notes traveled through the night air as the crew sang out of tune. The celebration had just kicked off, so you knew the unpleasant singing wasn't from alcohol, though you expected it to get worse as the night went on.

Even Minho joined in on the celebrating, singing along with the crew and dancing around.

You sat alone on the forecastle deck watching the stars, the garbled singing once again becoming background noise.

The gentle thump of boots approaching caught you attention. You turned your head just as Hongjoong sat down next to you.

"What are you doing up here all alone? The party's not boring, is it?"

"No. I just wanted to watch the stars."

"Well, I brought you a slice of cake."

"Ah. Thank you." You smiled, taking the small plate from him. "What about you?"

"I thought we could share it." He responded, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

You tried to hold back a grin as he took the fork, getting a small bite of cake, bringing it to your lips.

You allowed Hongjoong to feed you, your eyes widening once you tasted the sweet treat.

"Mrs. Park was right. This is definitely her specialty." You commented.

"Wait." Hongjoong reached out, his fingers delicately holding your chin, turning you towards him. "You have something on you."

You didn't have time to respond as Hongjoong leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip, sending a rush of heat across your face.

He parted ways, letting out a chuckle as he licked his lips. "Got it."

You playfully smacked his shoulder, turning away in embarrassment.

"I can't believe you did that."

"But you liked it."

"A little." You responded, shyly.

"Oh. I almost forgot." He muttered, getting to his feet. "Wait here."

Hongjoong hurried off, returning moments later.

"Look what I got." He held up a bottle. "I told you I'd get us some fine wine."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Someone in that town gave it to me. He said it's meant to be shared with someone you love and then gestured to you." He chuckled. "I don't know how he knew we were together, but I have wine because of it."

"What are you waiting for? Let's open it."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

He popped the cork on the bottle, handing it to you. "M'lady." He offered.

You gladly took the bottle, taking a sip and humming in approval before handing it to him.

Your head rested on his shoulder as he took a large gulp of alcohol, setting the bottle on the deck.

"I love you, Hongjoong."

The words unconsciously slipped out, but you didn't care. Hongjoong's head rested on top of yours as he responded.

"I love you too, Y/n."

Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung ⟡ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi

[wilcze-kudly]

I've honestly always loved the scene between Zuko and Katara in the Crystal Caves during the Crossroads of Destiny, even though it's been kinda diluted by shipping discourse.

I love how this scene showcases how far Zuko's story has come, but that it still has a ways to go. It's also a great moment from Katara, showing off her compassion and kindness, despite her rightful anger at Zuko. And this moment of "reaching across the aisle" between two children who were forced into something much bigger and crueler than they could ever be apways makes me quite emotional.

But I'm kinda tired of seeing this scene in just that vacuum, when looking at it in relation to two other scenes makes it so much more interesting.

The first scene we can compare this interaction to is pretty obvious, since it's basically "the other half" of Katara and Zuko's moment. It's Iroh and Aang's conversation in the tunnel.

I adore this scene it's just such a vibe I too would like to walk through a tunnel with a nice old man who gives me good advice (even if said nice old man is a war criminal)

Of course the first obvious parallel between these two converastions is a member of the Gaang (two members who have been most affected by the fire nations actions btw) having a genuine, deep conversation with a banished member of the Fire Nation royal family.

I also think this conversation contrasts Katara and Zuko's conversation very well. It juxtaposes Iroh and Zuko, showing us how far Iroh has come and how far Zuko still has to go.

I think it's very symbolic that Katara and Zuko connect mainly on their pasts, while Iroh and Aang do about the present and future.

Two quotes in this conversation stand out to me particularly.

Iroh: Perfection and power are overrated. I think you were very wise to choose happiness and love.

It not only relates to Aang's current predicament, but it also foreshadows Zuko's dissatisfaction with his life after he returns to the Fire Nation at Azula's side. After Zuko helps "kill" Aang and take over Ba Sing Se, he has acheived what he believed would be his version of perfection, while also getting back the power he was born into. But he is miserable. He's dissatisfied, wracked with guilt and constantly second guessing himself and the world around him. He even says this: During the meeting, I was a perfect prince... the son my father wanted. But I wasn't me.

But Zuko was also unable to fully choose a simple life of peace and happiness in Ba Sing Se, choosing to fight Azula when she attacks him and Iroh. Because he still subconciously was searching for that feeling of power and wasn't ready to allow himself to prioritise things other than his honour. He wanted to fight Azula and prove himself, but he just eneded up allowing himself to be captured by the overwhelming force of the Dai Li.

While Iroh has learnt to see the merit in a simple life and actively rejects the power (for better or for worse) that comes with his status as a member of the royal family.

Iroh: I don't know the answer. Sometimes, life is like this dark tunnel. You can't always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving, [Aang earthbends the rocks away one last time. Iroh's fire blows out. He smiles.] you will come to a better place.

Of course, this quote could relate to many things, including just the whole story of the show, but it also obviously relates to Zuko's redemption arc. Zuko's story is the epitome of continuing to slowlu crawl through a dark tunnel until you reach a better place. He stagnates and stumbles occasionally, but he keeps goingm and eventually gets there.

He reaches his better place.

It's interesting to see the contrast between Zuko and Katara's interaction and that of Iroh and Aang.

I think the scene in which Aang and Katara split off from Zuko and Iroh.

Aang and Iroh maintain eye contact, and Aang even gives a respectful bow. While Katara tries to make eye contact with Zuko, but he turns his gaze away, as if ashamed of his moment of weakness. Eye contact is very important is ATLA's visual storytelling, as I've spoken before in my post analysing the mutuality of Kataang's gaze.

I believe this scene foreshadows Zuko siding with Azula and Iroh siding with the Gaang at the end of the episode. Iroh and Aang have reached an understanding, and therefore, they are represented as facing each other and parting on good, respectful terms.

While in Katara and Zuko's case, Katara tries to make a similar connection with Zuko, however he rejects that connection. Ultimately this forces Katara to turn her back on him too, which may foreshadow her rightful anger at him in B3.

Ok, so the first interaction I want to metion gives us a bit of insight to Zuko, but what about Katara?

For that we have to go all the way back to B1, to an episode that I don't really see talked about in relation to Katara's story. Jeong Jeong is only the second friendly firebender Katara has encountered in probably her entire life, the first being Shayu, with whom she had very little interaction. Of course, I think this would at least give her pause.

Jeong Jeong and Katara's conversation is very short, but I think it had a great impact on Katara.

Jeong Jeong : You have healing abilities. The great benders of the Water Tribe sometimes have this ability. I've always wished I were blessed like you - free from this burning curse. Katara: But you're a great master. You have powers that I will never know. Jeong Jeong: Water brings healing and life. But fire brings only destruction and pain. It forces those of us burdened with its care to walk a razor's edge between humanity and savagery. Eventually, we are torn apart.

Jeong Jeong is the polar opposite of the firebender archetype Katara had in her head. He's thoughtful, disciplined and very careful with his firebending. Jeong Jeong's hatred of his own firebending also stands as a contrast to Katara considering her waterbending a vital and beautiful part of who she is as a person.

I always found it interesting that outside of Aang, Jeong Jeong was one of the first people in the series to respect Katara as a waterbender and see her potential, as he even connects her abilities to great waterbenders. It's especially a stark difference to how he treated Aang, the literal Avatar.

The way Jeong Jeong talks about firebending also reflects what Katara has seen herself of it.

Yet she pushes back at his self depreciation, showing that she still sees the value of his abilities. This foreshadows Katara's compassion for the people of the Fire Nation, especially when paired with Sokka's distrust of them.

I also think it's quite interesting that healing is often involved in Katara's attempts to connect with Fire Nation people. Her first connection is with Jeong Jeong, then she offers to heal Iroh, later Zuko's scar, she heals people in the village during the Painted Lady incident. Finally, the crowning jewel of this series of events is her healing Zuko after the Agni Kai.

This is especially poignant in the story of her and Zuko's relationship, with Katara offering her healing services to him twice, but being either rejected or interrupted. And finally she does heal him at the very end of the show, after he took lightning for her, symbolising a "bridging the gap", so to speak.

I think Katara and Zuko's conversation ties back to Katara's interaction with Jeong Jeong for a few reasons. Firstly, there's the obvious of Katara having a moment with a firebender with a facial scar. Also Katara's wording when she offers to heal Zuko's scar: instead of saying that she's a healer, she says "I have healing abilities ", which is exactly how Jeong Jeong described her power.

Ans once again, Jeong Jeong is the one to protect Katara and buy her time to escape, ehile Zuko betrays her. This once again just shows how far Zuko has yet to go before B3.

I've always thought that the way ceratain Avatar scenes intertwine with themes and similarities is very fascinating and fun to pick apart.

The scene between Zuko and Katara is profound, but I think it's often viewed in isolation, be it due to people wearing ship goggles or it just standing our more. But I think one of the reasons it's so wonderful is that it interweaves into so many other events of "reaching across the isle", of our protagonists connacting with firebenders. It's not just a good character moment for Zuko and Katara, it's a mark that connection and peace with the Fire Nation is possible, that it can be acheived, that it slowly is being acheived. Every one of these interactions is unique, but they all form a good foundation for B3, when we really get into humanising the Fire Nation civillians.

The scene between Zuko and Katara is beautiful not only because of what it is, but also because of what it symbolises: the hope of peace.

Ok this was "stating the obvious", once again brought to you by Quill in their pretentious humanistics student hat. I like to vomit words and some of you like to read them! So thank you if you have read them