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innocent-artery · 1 year ago

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Kinktober 7th: Inside Joke

aka mommy kink with James Potter

3.5k words

Summary: Jamie's poker face is put to the test when you surprise him with a new toy.

Pairing: Collegeau!boyfriend!james potter x reader

For the sake of avoiding spoilers, extensive warnings will not be given. This story includes sexually explicit material, reader discretion advised.

While reading, I recommend listening to the altar is my hips, a spotify playlist by me!

"You what?"

"Did I stutter?" you crossed your legs, turning back and forth a little in James' desk chair.

Meanwhile the man in question stood dumbfounded with an unwrapped package in his hands and his jaw dropped. "I-in front of everyone?"

"Well, yeah. But it's not like they'll see it." You quirked a brow. "Unless you make it really obvious."

James' cheeks burned scarlet at the thought. "I won't." He doesn't fully believe himself as he says it, but as he stares down at the brand-new silver toy in his hands, he doesn't really care.

"Good." You stood, kissing him on the cheek. Your touch was electric on his skin, from your lips to your hand on his chest. He was sure you could feel his heartbeat racing. "Cause we're leaving in ten."

. . .

As soon as he crossed the threshold of Sirius' house, he knew he had severely overestimated his ability to be subtle. Your fingers were locked together so as not to get separated- the house was overflowing with raucous college students and blaring music- but James was using it as a stress toy, squeezing it every time the plug nestled inside of him moved. He had worked up a thin line of perspiration under his glasses and across his hairline.

James could feel the bass of the song vibrating in his feet as he walked, through the walkway down towards the living room. His ears perked instinctively at the sound of a clear, crisp whistle from somewhere deeper into the room. He glanced around until he found the familiar, wide-grinning visage of his best friend. Sirius jerked his head, as if telling him "come over here", raven hair swishing with the movement.

You must have noticed, because when you turned back from him, one hand gripping two beer bottles by the neck, you nudged your chin to signal him forward.

"Welcome, welcome, my dear comrade!" Sirius hollered, holding a red plastic cup up in the telltale grandiose joy that always overcame him when he was drunk. "And Prongs."

James rolled his eyes, unable to help the grin splitting his face as Sirius clapped him on the back.

"Sit, sit!" Sirius beckoned them to the couch, where Remus was draped over the arm, blunt in hand. The sandy-haired boy waved lazily.

James struggled to hide a grimace as he sat down, the prodding of the metal becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. He was grateful for the bottle you passed him, eager for something to ease his nerves.

"Relax, baby," you murmured in his ear, breath tickling his cheek. James' neck felt hot, the hair at the back prickled.

All he could do was swallow thickly, nodding and taking a swig.

"Good boy," you purred, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck. "You might want to cover up a little though, hm? A poker face doesn't help much when you've got a boner."

James' eyes shot down. Indeed, there was a growing bulge in his pants.

Before he could say anything, you stood, pushing his legs apart. Shock coursed through him before you sat on the floor between his legs, arms draped over his knees and head leaned against his lower stomach.

This made it infinitely worse. Now he had a bird's eye view of your cleavage, and when you looked back up through your eyelids to smile at him, he had to bit down on his lower lip to keep from groaning. Your head rested so conveniently against his crotch, and when he shrunk back from it, the plug nestled around.

"Oi, Prongs. Y'alright?" Remus nudged the man with his foot, concern painted on his face.

"Yeah," he managed to choke out.

"Sure? You look like y've got something up your arse."

James could feel you shaking with laughter underneath him. He exhaled, shaking his head. "Just tired, s'all."

"Aren't we all." Remus nodded, head lolling over to watch the dancers- or rather, one singular dancer. "But we've got the whole summer ahead of us to loosen up."

James lifted his half-empty bottle of beer in agreement. Remus wasn't even watching, his eyes were trained on Sirius, swaying to the music. He was a dance major for a reason.

James' attention was snapped away to his crotch when you began nodding slowly to the music. You were engrossed in conversation with Dorcas and Marlene- when did they get here?- but James knew that through all your subtlety you knew exactly what you were doing. What you were doing to him. James huffed, gripping the glass bottle so tight to keep himself from holding onto your hair. He wasn't even sure what he'd do with it once he had it. Would he tug your hair away, or rut against the back of your head like a bitch in heat? He knew you'd call him that if he did, you'd call him desperate and such a needy little whore-

He almost sobbed when your head froze. His fingers itched to touch you, but he knew better than to grab your head. So he opted to look down at you. You were glaring a cold fire, so he followed your gaze across the room to some girl whose name he didn't know and whose face he didn't recognize. She wiggled her fingers at James, and as she did so, she leaned forward and pushed her arm into her tits, accentuating her already plunging neckline.

Ah, James thought. He was almost amused at your annoyance, if he wasn't already so turned on at any meager touch from you. Your hand reached under the crook of his knee to rest on his upper thigh, sending electricity shooting through his muscles.

Your head tilted up, and he knew exactly what to do without you even needing to ask.

The minute your lips touched together, mashed in a frenzy of tongue and teeth and quiet sighs, James' body was set alight. Your hand kneaded at his thigh, and he could feel you smiling- you thrived on making him squirm, and you knew when you were succeeding.

By the time you parted, James' head was swimming. He watched through lidded eyes as you licked your lips at the girl, and as the latter rolled her eyes and stalked off.

James was throbbing. He couldn't help his hips from rising up into your hair, even if his efforts were hopeless. His face was red and he was breathless.

He squeezed your hand, and you looked up in question. He didn't even have to say anything.

"Wait." You told him firmly, taking another swig.

Wait? He couldn't wait, he'd been waiting all night.

"Please," he whimpered, leaning down to your ear.

"Patience, Jamie." He hated and loved the nonchalance in your voice, the indifference.

"Need you, so bad..."

"Wait."

"Mommy!"

It wasn't that loud, barely a sigh, but it rang in your ears, scorched your belly. You scrambled to your feet, hooking a finger in the collar of his shirt.

"Can't hardly wait a few hours, huh? I thought you could last longer than that." You snarled, turning and dragging him with you.

James held close to you, trying to hide his raging hard-on by pressing his front into your backside. You slithered through the crowd, around the pillar, up the stairs, and into the first bedroom you saw.

James quickly recognized it as Sirius'. Various posters were plastered almost on top of each other, so that there was more picture than wall. The smell of weed was fainter here than downstairs, and there were clothes- mostly black, but there was an occasional red or silver- scattered all over the floor. Makeup was scattered over the dresser, where a mirror was propped up haphazardly. The bed, however, was as tidy as ever, decorative pillows propped up and everything.

The click of the lock brought James back to the moment. You were standing at the door with one hand on your hip, tongue poking at the inside of your cheek.

"Go on." You said simply. Irritability was painted on your face.

"Huh?"

"Since you needed me so badly you couldn't wait until we got home, go on. You have me. Show me how badly you need me."

James' head went dumb at the idea, and his body acted of its own accord. He stood from the bed, taking your hand and pushing it into his crotch. A low moan was pulled from his throat when you cupped him, gently massaging the ache between his legs. His face dropped into the crook of your neck, relishing in the overwhelming sensations- your smell, the strain of his leaking cock against his jeans, your free hand tracing down the back of his neck. He shivered, gasping and arching his back when your finger trailed down his spine. It lingered at the base of his tailbone, sneaking under the waist of his jeans and tracing feather-light over that ticklish patch of skin.

"Mommy, please," James whined, fingers clutching your wrist.

"Turn around," you muttered, pushing him around by the waist. You walked him over to the bed until his knees hit the edge of it, trapping himself. Instinctively James reached down so he could plant his hands on the mattress, rendering himself entirely vulnerable to your will. Both of your hands groped at his behind. You reached around to unbutton his pants, tugging them down along with his underwear.

"No touching," you snapped before his hand could take his cock, bobbing heavily under its own weight. He let out a weak noise as it dripped onto the blanket pathetically.

You were still entranced with his ass, or rather, what was inside of it. Your fingers went from groping aimlessly to pulling his cheeks apart, finger trailing delicately around the little stud. At even the slightest of pressure, James' now shuddering body arched into your touch and he let out a noise so loud and unabashedly pornographic you had to clap a hand over his mouth. It wasn't until you felt the plug moving that you registered the rhythming clenching of his ass, a telltale sign that he just came.

And glancing around his body, you were right. There was a pool of white under his now softening cock, strands of cum webbing between the tip and the sticky puddle.

"Jamie." Your voice wasn't loud, nor really that stern, but it made him jump regardless.

He didn't dare look at you, but he also didn't dare fight the gentle hand of yours, guiding his face to turn back and look you in the eye.

"Jamie, baby, what am I going to do with you?" You shook your head, clicking your tongue.

It was a rhetorical question, but James gave a weak, defeated sound anyway. He wouldn't have been able to talk, your hold on his jaw having grown tight enough to hold him in place.

"I give you a nice, pretty new toy, help you stay hidden when you can't do it yourself, even start to indulge you when you can't even be bothered to wait, and you cum just like that? Without even asking?"

James knew it was a twisted description of the night's events, but shame boiled in his stomach anyway. "'M sorry, Mommy. Jus' felt too good."

You suck in a breath through your teeth. "I really thought you'd be good this time, bub. But I guess not."

James felt tears pricking in his eyes. But he was. He was so patient. You were just mean.

"Alright, on your back." You released your hold on his face.

"H-huh?"

"If you're just gonna be a needy little brat who cums whether I let him or not, I might as well get some use out of you."

James crawled, with shaking legs, up the bed, until he was propped up against the pillows, beefy legs spread enough to where you could see his sticky cock limp against his stomach and the plug, that goddamn plug that had gotten him into so much trouble in the first place.

He felt as though he were under a microscope, in a cage at the zoo, on a stage, the way you were staring at him. Hungrily, menacingly, with plans in your eyes that he was both terrified and excited to learn of. You kicked your shoes off slowly, stripping off your outer layers without breaking eye contact. James' eyes bulged when you shimmied out of your pants.

"Mommy.." he sighed, fingers flexing over his thighs as he willed himself not to touch.

"Shh, hush baby, I know," you crooned, crawling over to him. Your fingers, lithe and light, traced the underside of his dick, making him gasp. You only seemed to be spurred on by his reaction, your other hand brushing over his thigh.

"You just couln't help yourself, hm? Isn't that right?" James shook his head, resorting to clutching the comforter by his side. "Well, I guess we'll just have to work on that, won't we?"

James didn't have the opportunity to ask what you meant by that, because as you said it, you were shuffling up so that your hips hovered over his cock you were holding upwards. That was the other reason he couldn't ask you, because in his sensitivity, your touch knocked the breath from his lungs.

"Aw, pretty boy, what's wrong?" You cooed, though there was a mean tone to it. "You're so tense."

James gives a hiccupped whine, his lower lip trembling. When your hips rolled deviously over the tip of his weeping cock, his head kicked back against the lush pillows.

"Nuh uh, none of that." You snarled, taking a fistful of hair and tugging his head up so that his gaze, under hooded lids, met yours.

James' hands, now clutching your waist as though it were the only thing that would keep him from drowning- in what, he didn't know- trembled as you sunk down, slowly, onto his poor cock.

"Ah! M-mommy, too much, 's too much-"

"No." You stilled, which was somehow worse. "You're going to take it. I've been dealing with you being impatient and selfish and useless all night, it's my fucking turn."

He shouldn't have throbbed at the word, but he did. James nodded after a moment, when he noticed a tinge of concern in your eyes. It disappeared as soon as it came, and then, inch by agonizing inch, you sank down on his cock until you were sat fully on him.

You didn't move immediately, instead relishing in the feeling. Your eyes fluttered closed and you flexed your fingers over James' chest, which, oddly, seemed to upset you. Your eyes snapped open, staring down at James' chest, plucking at the material of his shirt.

"Off." You grunt, pushing the material up his stomach. James pulled the material from his body faster than he's ever done anything- anything to please you.

You seem satisfied; your hips roll against him, and James feels as though he's been set on fire. The evidence of his previous orgasm was not yet dry on the bedsheets, and here you were sitting on his cock- no, your cock. Your useless cock.

"Aw, yeah, see Jamie?" You dip down, mouthing around his heaving chest. "This is what happens when you don't wait. Mommy's going to get ther way either way, it's not my fault how that turns out for you."

James only nodded frantically, breathing heavy and yelps and gasps giving way to long, high moans. Your lips reached his nipple, and your tongue traced over the sensitive skin.

"Mommy! Please, mommy, don't stop-" James' pleas were cut off when your lips wrapped around the bud, tonguing and sucking and pulling the sweetest, most shameless sounds from the depths of his throat.

A new kind of panic settled over James as your hips sped up. He felt it in the throbbing up his cock, in the heat brewing in his lower stomach. He wasn't going to last.

"Mommy, Mommy slow down, please, 'm not gonna last," he pleaded, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes as he tried and failed to think of anything else. He was already denied looking away from you, but even if you'd let him he wouldn't want to.

"Oh, but you will," you purred in his ear. "You're gonna get Mommy off if it kills you."

"Can't, Mommy, 'm sorry," he wails, eyes screwing shut.

"Hold it." You grit, but the firm cant of your hips up and down his length make your orders impossible. White-hot pleasure mixed with shame washed over James as he, against his own will, releases into you.

You were fully planning on continuing regardless of whether or not he came, but seeing the way he fell into a series of jolts and falling limp, you had a lapse of pity. You could tell by the crossing of his heavy eyes that he was exhausted.

Once you were still, and James had caught a breather, he tried nestling his face into the crook of your neck. "'M sorry Mommy. I tried, I really did. Wanna take care of you, wanna make you feel good. Wanna taste you Mommy, please?"

"That's the first smart thing you've said all night, Jamie." You combed a hand through his hair. Gently, slowly, you lifted yourself off of him, rolling over and lying on your back. James was quick to follow your movements, chasing the warmth of your body despite being sweaty and sticky.

"Go on, baby," you nod, legs spreading open. You wince a little at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you, but James was ever so quick to replace it. His eager tongue lapped at you, licking his own cum out of you.

"That's it, sweet boy, just like that, doing so good for Mommy."

James' efforts redoubled at the sugary sweetness of your voice. The hand that was kneading your thighs slithered between your legs, tracing around your hole so his lips could wrap around your clit, tongue laving over your skin in a manner that could only be described as hot. Big doe eyes gazed up at you, pouty and longing for approval. Your moans and praises were confirmation enough, spurring his fingers to sink into you with ease.

James’ mouth and hand worked wonders, that was never a debate, but it was the devotion and surrender in his actions that sent you barreling towards that high. It was watching him earlier as you rode him, watching him try to stave off his orgasm for as long as possible, denying himself overwhelming pleasure simply because you had asked. Your pleasure was his pleasure.

“Ah, Jamie, so close baby, so good- ah!” Your hands flew to his hair when he delivered a particularly harsh suck to your clit; bleary, blinking eyes clouded with lust watched your face contort in pleasure.

You writhed underneath him, and at this point, you were bucking your hips up into his face, pulling it so that his nose rubbed over you exactly how you needed it to.

When your high hit you, your hips stuttered, so James took it upon himself to maintain the rhythm for you, head bobbing with the movement as overwhelming pleasure set your body alight.

The air was thick with the smell of sex as you basked in the afterglow; you’d only just realized how hot your body had become when you pushed your hair out of your face.

“Did I do good Mommy?”

James was blinking up at you wearily, but he looked content as ever. A mixture of your slick and his own cum was strung between his tongue, still poking out over his lip, and your lips.

You hummed, swiping your thumb over his chin to clean him. “Of course, Jamie, did so good for Mommy.”

James happily suckled on your thumb, laying his head on your thigh.

You watched him for a while, content in the silence, until you became suddenly aware of the music still blaring downstairs.

“Oh God, wait-”

. . .

Back at home, you sat with your legs dangling over the bathroom counter as you brushed your teeth. You were contently scrolling, not even paying attention to what rolled down your screen when a familiar name dropped down from the top.

Sirius “The Whore” Black: hey bestie boo

Sirius “The Whore” Black: why are my bedsheets gone

You snorted, clicking on the banner to respond. But before you could type, a few more messages popped up.

Sirius “The Whore” Black: they’re in the fucking washer

Sirius “The Whore” Black: why are they in the washer

You: Because I put them there??

Sirius “The Whore” Black: oh

Sirius “The Whore” Black: oh my god

Sirius “The Whore” Black: YOU HAD SRED

Sirius “The Whore” Black: SEC

You: Take your time

Sirius “The Whore” Black: fuck off

Sirius “The Whore” Black: copulation

You: there you go

Sirius “The Whore” Black: ON MY BED

Sirius “The Whore” Black: so I got cockblocked because of you

Sirius “The Whore” Black: Now Remus thinks I'm a disgusting slob who doesn't even have bedsheets

Sirius “The Whore” Black: I had it so perfectly made too

You: I can say with full confidence that your chances are not ruined

You: Besides

You: Would you rather I had just left the dirty sheets there?

Sirius “The Whore” Black: god no

Sirius “The Whore” Black: but I'm never using those sheets again anyways

Sirius “The Whore” Black: I'm burning the entire bed

Sirius “The Whore” Black: And you will be purchasing me a new set since you're soooo considerate

Your head kicks back in a cackle.

"What's so funny?" Came James' voice from the shower.

You scroll up so that you can show James the conversation. When you push the phone past the shower curtain, the words James reads aloud are not the ones you'd read.

"Sirius "The Whore" Black sent you an ApplePay request - €300."

#james potter #james potter x fem!reader #marauders #marauders era #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #the marauders #hp marauders #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #female reader #smut #x reader #james potter x gn!reader #james potter x you

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entishramblings · 2 years ago

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Fuck the Forbidden Pt. 1

[Boromir/F!MermaidReader]

PART 2 | PART 3 — coming soon!

Fuck the Forbidden: FTF LINK MASTERLIST

A.N: so, I went to see the little mermaid live action and I couldn’t resist making a one-shot inspired by it. however,,, there are some twists and turns to the tail (heh see what I did there) so it is a bit different ;)

Request: none

Pairing: Boromir X Fem!MermaidReader

Summary: The Reader is a Mermaid and witnessed a shipwreck. She becomes interested in human life—particularly one human: Boromir.

Disclaimer: Any mythology relating to the mermaids of middle earth is not canon. also I tried my best with arda water/river geography plz don’t come at me—it’s not one of my finer subjects :/

Word Count: 9.5k — listen, I have a problem

Warnings: depression, drowning, ptsd, alcoholism, angst, comfort, fluff, stalking (idk how to make that last one sound less creepy. you’re just gonna have to read it).

MASTERLIST | AO3 | WATTPAD

The gulf of the great sea was known to bring down ships in the Bay of Belfalas during an unlucky storm. The rocky path towards the shore had claimed the lives of many during such circumstances. Though the weather was usually fair, now was not one of those times. The ship, The Deseirre, rocked and tilted under the storm's ruling, making it nearly impossible for the crew to evade the onslaught of unwelcomed waves crashing aboard. The harsh waters hit hard upon the men manning the vessel, nearly drowning them in the angry salt water of the sea as they desperately tried to keep the boat from going down. The captain of the ship was manning the wheel, turning and spinning it with frantic urgency. The quartermaster was calling out orders, directing the crew's efforts to secure the hatches and hold the ship steady. The sailors were running lines and yanking on ropes, hoping to pull the sails in a direction that would keep them afloat. However, as the night sky wept and bellowed in rage, it further obscured the treacherous rocks lurking in the cove. Still, Boromir prayed that their vessel wouldn’t be one to join the graveyard below.

“ONE. OF. YOU. FUCKING MORONS—“ A wave crashed down upon the quartermaster, stealing his sentence for a moment. The water slid across the deck, revealing his form. His waterlogged body fumbled to rise. “—GO REEF THE SAILS! NOW!”

The Captain of the Minas Tirith Guard caught the desperate man’s gaze and nodded—telling him that he would be the one to do the task. Boromir then took to stumbling across the rocking ship, dodging flying parcels and rolling barrels, as he attempted to get to the ship’s mast.

A sudden cry interrupted his actions, causing Boromir to turn his attention. It was Elidon, the youngest member of their group at the age of fourteen. He had been hit by one of the barrels—and three more were coming his way.

Instantly, the Gondorian Captain moved to his aid. He jumped in-front of the boy and took the blow of the next barrel before yanking them both out of the way of the other two.

“Sir Boromir, th—thank you.” Elidon stammered out.

He patted the younger’s shoulder in recognition of his thanks. “Help Heimir and the rest of the crew! Go!”

“But—but where are you going?! That side of the ship is getting hit with the most water?!”

“The sails must be reefed! Go to Heimir!” he yelled as he ran off towards the rigging.

A diplomatic mission, his father had called it.

Boromir, now at the mast, grasped onto the ropes and heaved himself up onto the first prong of the rigging.

Just a quick check-in across the seas to confirm their trade routes and hold relations, he had said.

The Captain of the Guard twisted his fingers as the wet material slipped from them, nearly losing his grasp.

It would be an easy sail, Denethor had claimed.

Boromir struggled to keep his footing as a large wave crashed upon him, disorienting him.

Not too far of a venture, he had insisted.

Of course, without any objection, Boromir had agreed to go to be the face of such discussions. After all, Gondor needed a representative, and who could be more suitable than the steward’s son himself?! Boromir had been actively assisting his father in various administrative tasks to ensure the smooth operation of Minas Tirith—hell, he was captain of the guard! Therefore, a simple sail was nothing; but, much to his dismay, this was no simple sail. They had come across rough waves and rocky terrain through their journey. They had hoped that the way back wouldn’t be as difficult. But, boy, were they wrong. It was worse.

So here the Soldier of Gondor was, climbing the rigging to reach the sails and secure the reef points. Hopefully, with luck, it would reduce the risk of the ship capsizing.

He was nearly there, only a couple feet away, when he first heard it: the shouting.

Though it was not just the yelling of orders and commands.

No, no, this was different.

This was the shouting of terror. A cry to let the rest of them know it was too late. There was nothing to be done at this point. It was just a warning—for them to brace themselves. They had but seconds.

One. Two. Three.

The ship crashed hard upon a rock, the sound of the splintering snap of wood getting lost in that of lightning.

Boromir's desperate grip grew stronger, his fingers digging into the coarse fibers of the rope as his legs flailed helplessly in the air. He could feel the burn of the material tearing and ripping open his skin, an agonizing reminder of the dire situation he found himself in. Yet despite this, he clung to that lifeline, his very existence hanging by a thread. He didn’t want to die. No, not like this.

The crew members' panicked voices echoed through the air, their urgent cries piercing the tense atmosphere and striking reality back into Boromir’s bones. Swiftly, they scrambled towards the lifeboats, driven by the need for survival. The soldier knew the ship was done. The irrevocable truth was evident—the ship was destined to sink and there was no saving it.

With a swift twist of his head, Boromir shook off the wet strands of hair that clung to his face, obscuring his vision. He knew he had to get to the others—quickly. His eyes darted from one possible route to another, assessing each for its level of safety.

Boromir, with his heart pounding, shifted his position. He would have to swing for it.

With a calculated movement, he extended his arm, stretching it out towards a rope that hung close by. His fingers grazed its surface, but it remained just out of his immediate reach.

He tried again. His palm collided with the rope, yet still, it slipped from his grasp.

Determined, Boromir reconfigured his stance once more, hoping that this adjustment would be the key to finally bridging the gap between his outstretched hand and his only lifeline.

However, just as he was to make contact, a powerful wave slammed into his back. This sent him flying through the air. Helpless and disoriented, he tumbled uncontrollably down the rigging, hurtling towards the ship's deck. With mere seconds to react, he desperately attempted to reposition his form mid-fall, aiming to land on the meatiest part of his body. However, before he could even try to execute any maneuver, a gust of wind propelled a swinging beam directly towards him. Its side rammed right into his abdomen, forcefully taking him along its path. A pained groan escaped his lips as his head collided with yet another beam. The darkness then consumed him.

From their lifeboats, the crew gazed in disbelief at the sight of the Steward's Son, a figure who had always treated them with kindness and compassion, being tossed about in the air like a little gnat. The rage of the sea batted him away dismissively, as if he was nothing more than a little pest. With mouths agape in astonishment, the sailors watched Boromir’s lifeless form plummeting into the water—water that seemed to almost reach up towards him, as if the ocean itself yearned to soften the pain of his fall. The roar and rumble of the waves then consumed him and his limp form vanished beneath the inky depths. He was swallowed whole by the relentless force of the sea.

“Make for the shore!” The captain of the now non-existent ship hollered.

“But Captain!” Elidon cried out frantically. “What of Sir Boromir?! We cannot leave him!”

Grasping the torn and drenched fabric of his younger companion's tunic, the captain hollered his reply. “No man could have survived a blow to the back of the head like that. Forget Sir Boromir!” His gaze then shifted urgently towards Heimir, a comrade who shared in the grief of the recently departed. "Row for the shore! NOW! We cannot delay a moment longer!"

“But Captain!” Elidon shouted.

“Shut it boy! Or I will throw you over too!” he snapped back.

Reluctantly, Heimir and another sailor, Stinar, started to row. The little lifeboat began to surge with the way of the winds as the men upon it desperately attempted to bring it home steady—the friend that some had held so dearly, abandoned to the black sea.

The men, however, did not know one thing—the most important thing.

They didn’t know of the legends that had almost since faded from their line. The legends that only the eldest of sailors dared to even whisper of—even after a couple pints. The legends of the beautiful and sinful beasts of the sea. The ones that lured men to their deaths and used their skeletons for fashioning jewelry.

…..

Amidst the disassembling of The Deseirre—its fragments mercilessly thrown upon the tumultuous waves to be claimed by the gods of deep—a pair of vigilant eyes floated atop the water's surface.

Their curious gaze captured the ethereal moonlight, reflecting its shimmering glow as the sea raged on. Observing intently, they absorbed the tragic spectacle of the ship bending and breaking. They witnessed the anguished cries of its crew and the frenzied efforts of those fighting for survival. In solemn stillness, they silently beheld the suffering. Yet, a tender warmth seeped into those unwavering eyes when they witnessed one soul selflessly shielding another of many years younger. This man took the brunt of debris, despite the pain. And, well, those inquiring eyes decided to follow that man.

They watched as he scrambled across the ship, desperately climbing to reach or do….something. They didn't know exactly what his goal was, but from his frantic behavior, they could only guess it was intended to prevent the ship from going down. His efforts, however, appeared to be in vain, for the ship was splitting into ruins and the men were abandoning it—all but him. He tried. Oh, yes, he tried very hard, but it seemed the odds were not in his favor.

Down he fell—spiraling unconscious towards the abyss.

And those eyes, the ones that surveyed the shipwreck, were connected to a lifeform that could feel such pain—pain of the heart. They belonged to one called (Y/N).

(Y/N) knew she shouldn’t.

They were not allowed to—none of them were.

It was forbidden among their clan.

Though the begging of the young boy yanked upon the crevices of her chest.

It was forbidden.

All men couldn't be like those ones—the ones her father fought in ‘TheWar of the Riptides’ all those centuries ago.

It was forbidden.

This man—this man couldn't be like them. No. No, he wasn't like them. He was a good man.

It was forbidden.

He had saved the boy and taken the pain with no complaint. After all that had happened in the past couple centuries, she had to believe that there was some kindness—some decency—left in the human race. And in that act, she saw it. She knew she saw it. So, here, listening to the young boy plead for the rescue of the man, Boromir, she could not let it disappear.

It was forbidden.

She couldn't let that kindness rot at the bottom of the deep.

It was forbidden.

She could not let it cease to exist.

Fuck the forbidden.

(Y/N) extended her palm outward, commanding the water to cradle the man's body, cushioning his descent and lessening the impact. The waves obediently rose, embracing his lifeless form for a fleeting moment before consuming him. Swiftly, she dipped beneath the surface, her tail propelling her gracefully through the depths. It took only mere seconds for her to locate the drifting figure, and without hesitation, she folded her arms around his limp frame. Drawing upon the innate strength bestowed upon her people, her fins pushed them both upwards. Their heads emerged from the water's surface and the moonlight bathed them in unison with the rain.

Ensuring the man’s head remained above the water's surface, the mermaid skillfully navigated her way towards the shoreline. She glided past the treacherous rocky terrain that had proven to be the ship’s demise. She evaded the broken debris that came from the hopeless fight. And she eluded the relentless onslaught of waves that came to snatch the prize she had stolen.

(Y/N) reached the shore at the break of dawn, just as the sun began its ascent to its position among the sky. The storm had halted during the first rays of light and now it kissed her skin and scales with praise. As she brushed upon the land, she gently laid Boromir’s head down upon the sand. Slow and soft she went about it. She was so careful with him. So diligent. She wanted him to survive. She needed him to survive.

With caution, (Y/N) leaned in and placed her ear against Boromir’s chest, her brow creasing and her lips tensing.

Please, please, please.

And there it was: the sound of blood thundering through veins, mimicking the tantrum of the storm in a mocking delight.

(Y/N) smiled softly. Oh yes, fuck the forbidden.

She lifted her head from the man’s form and bit her lip as a strange guilt flooded through her heart. Despite her relief, apprehension crept into her mind as she dreaded the potential consequences from the gods—and her father. She understood deep down that she should not have intervened. Just coming to the surface was bad enough. But this? Saving a man? Surely that was an extreme that shouldn’t have been trifled with. The mere glimpse of her tail, by even a single human, would forever rekindle the forgotten war between the races. It would seal the fate of the merfolk, burying them in their ocean.

It was forbidden.

(Y/N) turned to look behind her at the open ocean.

The little lifeboats were still a mile or two out. She had time—just a little time.

Despite the shame of her people that hung around her neck, she focused her care upon the unconscious man. Resting her elbow in the warm sand beside him, (Y/N) fixed her gaze upon his serene expression. Unable to resist, her index finger traced a delicate path along his cheekbone, his lips, and his chin. He didn’t seem like the humans from the tales. They all had been war-torn and death-driven. He was the opposite. He valued life—if it hadn't been for him that young boy would have found a new home in the watery graveyard. (Y/N) brushed his dark sandy hair from his face as she continued to caress his skin. Softly, she began to hum a healing harmony, seeking to provide solace to the motionless man. However, her efforts were brought to an abrupt halt when shouts sounded from the cliff above.

The land-dwellers had caught sight of the lifeboats, and it was only a matter of time before they set their eyes upon her. The fleeting sense of time she had once perceived vanished in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming sense of urgency. Yet, a spluttering cough at her side diverted her focus, triggering another surge of anxiety within her core.

It was forbidden.

“Who are you?” Boromir croaked, his squinting and blinking eyes conveying that he could not yet focus on her. His trembling hand then reached out to cup her cheek, taking its time to search for her skin in the air. As he did so, his palm accidently brushed upon her necklace of shell, seaglass, and bone. Still, he fumbled for tangible confirmation of her presence, and he did so until his hand found her face. “Who are you?” he whispered once more.

She placed her hand upon his beating heart. “Survive and live,” she commanded.

Then she was gone.

…..

Boromir sat up in his bed, the comforters pooling around his waist. His brother paced with restless energy before him, meandering across the floor in an agitated rhythm.

Back and forth.

“You never should have gone on that sail.” Faramir murmured. “Father never should have asked it of you—not with the waters getting more and more unpredictable by the day.”

Boromir sighed, tired of every version of this conversation that always seemed to come up no matter the circumstance. “Faramir, it is not his fault…”

The younger stopped his anxious steps and turned to look at Boromir. “Not his fault? You never should have been on that ship!”

“Yes, I should have. Keeping relations with neighboring territories is important. I had to be there.”

Faramir shook his head. “No, father should have gone himself if it was that important.”

“Faramir…” Boromir chided, emotionally exhausted and weary to the bone. “Please, let it rest. I cannot bear the arguing. Not now.”

The younger man let out a sigh, offering a nod of compliance. He settled himself on the edge of the bed, his kind blue eyes—that mirrored his brother’s—resting gently upon the fatigued figure. “I am sorry. I fear losing you to an ill fate, especially one so unnecessary.”

The Captain of the Guard offered a gentle smile. "Fear not, little brother. I managed to escape such a dire fate. The gods did not intend it for me, at least not now. I was saved."

Faramir arched an eyebrow, taken aback by his brother's particular wording. "Saved?"

Boromir inclined his head, his expression displaying a hint of reluctance. After a brief pause, he spoke once more. “Yes. Someone, well, someone rescued me.”

“What? Who? How do you know?”

A chuckle escaped Boromir, tinged with a touch of dark bitterness that resonated in his voice. "I was in a state of unconsciousness. I was drowning. There was no way I could have reached the shore, or even surfaced, on my own. Not in the state I was in."

“You don't think the tides brought you in?”

He shook his head. “Nay. The waters were too rough. They pushed me under and to the depths.”

Faramir huffed, trying to make sense of his brother's words. “Well,” he began, standing and patting his brother’s leg. “We must thank whichever crew member yanked you up and—”

“Faramir,” The Captain interrupted. “It was a woman.”

“—drug you to–to—a woman?” he questioned.

Boromir inhaled slowly. “Yes. It wasn't a crew member. It was a woman.”

“How do you know? Did you see her?”

“Just–just glimpses of colors and shapes.”

“Boromir–” he started.

With a bit of aggression, the Captain’s voice snapped. “I heard her!” He paused, regretting his tone and collecting his emotions before speaking firmly. “I heard her. She—she sang to me. She spoke to me.”

Faramir crossed his arms, his doubt evident. “She spoke to you? What did she say then?”

He looked up at his brother, focusing his gaze intently. “Survive and live. She said to survive and live.”

“You narrowly escaped death, Boromir. That was just your mind playing tricks on you as minds do to many who have a brush with such darkness. You, a soldier, know this.” He huffed. “Get some rest.”

With that, Faramir parted from Boromir’s bedchambers—leaving the stubborn man behind.

Boromir let out a weary sigh. Frustration, confusion, and restlessness weighing heavily on his heart. He had been confined to his bed for a day and a half, and the need to move, to be free, to live—it grew stronger within him.

Therefore, the Captain drew back the blankets and rose from the soft mattress that had carefully held his form while he healed. His feet felt strange upon the cold stone floor. It felt quiet and empty. It felt lonely and still. Boromir exhaled slowly. These feelings—they haunted him ever since the shipwreck. It was as if a fragment of his soul had been chipped away and consumed by the sea. It felt as if something dear to him was missing. He worried that whatever that piece was it lay at the bottom of the dark abyss.

He turned to look at the sunset beyond the glass of the window, shedding its soft gaze upon the waters that had threatened to claim his life. Driven to it, he moved near it, allowing that melody to echo in his mind once more.

That woman was out there….somewhere….and Boromir felt a pull to find her.

The Captain of the Guard shook his head at these thoughts.

Maybe Faramir was right?

Maybe there was no woman?

Maybe the tides had somehow rolled his body to land?

Maybe his mind was just plagued by the ghost of death that had reached for his soul?

Deciding that dwelling on such matters after two days of being bedridden was not going to help, he opted for a night out in his city. It would do him good—to see his people, his friends, his home. Therefore, Boromir was quick to dress and exit the castle of Minas Tirith, making haste towards his favorite tavern.

As soon as his footsteps passed the familiar threshold, his friends—sailors and soldiers—cheered his name and beckoned him further inside. With a radiant smile adorning his weary face, the Gondor Captain complied. His feet moved his form towards their table, glad for the welcome. The aroma of freshly baked bread and frothing ales mingled with the lively chatter of his companions, creating a relaxing ambiance of recognition. Food and drink were quickly passed to his empty hands, and he gratefully accepted. The nourishment, both physical and spiritual, infused him with renewed strength. The burdens of the past were momentarily lifted, replaced by a shared sense of joy and belonging.

However, as the ale flowed and lips ran loose, conversation soon turned towards the shipwreck—the biggest talk of the city.

“Man, I thought ya were a goner!” Heimir stated. “I watched as that beam ran right into ya and down ya went! By Eru, I swear the water came up to grab ya! There was no way ya could’ve survived that, I said. No way.”

Boromir shrugged, lifting his ale to his lips, unease regarding the direction of the conversation settling. “The gods must have been looking out for me,” he tried to dismiss.

The other dark-haired sailor, Stinar, shook his head. “And I’d be glad of it. Elidon was nearly in tears when the ship Cap’n said we had to leave ya behind!”

Boromir smiled softly. “He has a pure heart. Though I don't think there was a way that any of you could have saved me if you stayed. The Captain was right. I agree with his decision.”

Rollo, a soldier in Boromir’s guard, interjected. “See! This is why I stick to the sword! You'll never catch me on a ship. Hell, no.”

Laughter bubbled up at that comment, lightening the mood momentarily.

However, an older sailor, Iwar, leaned forward. “How’d ye do it then, lad?”

“Do what?” Boromir inquired.

“Ye know what I mean—” the old man grabbed him by the shoulder. “—survive, live, breathe for fucks sake!”

Boromir’s gaze cast down upon the table, just for a moment. There were those words again: survive, live. Feeling the ale run heavy in his blood and the despair that seemed to be chasing him surface, he looked up. Choosing to speak of his uncertainty, in hopes of comfort, he opened his lips. “Faramir says it must’ve been the tides.”

Heimir frowned at his friend’s doubtful tone, taking a swig. “Ya think it wasn't?”

Boromir shifted uncomfortably. “Unsure. I—I was unconscious. I don't remember anything until I was on the shore.”

“The sand told ya nothin then?” Stinar laughed out, clearly making jest.

Though, in the midst of Boromir's contemplative silence, a subtle shift in the atmosphere enveloped the group. Their collective intuition picked up on this unease, hinting at the darkness that followed their friend.

It was Iwar that spoke in a hushed whisper first. “Ye saw one of em,’ didn’t ya?”

All eyes drifted, unsure, to the old man.

“What do you mean?” Boromir questioned, his tone wavering.

A distant expression clouded the man's eyes, as if he had lost a part of his very soul to the depths of the ocean. “They wear the bones of our fallen kin. All strung up upon their necks like jewelry. We are spoils for them—spoils for them to take and do as they please.”

Stinar’s smile slowly dripped from his face. “Uh, what, uh, who?”

Iwar looked at Boromir, his green eyes bright and vibrant with the remembrance of fear. “The women of the sea,” he hissed.

At this, Heimir snorted and took a drink from his cup. “Women of the sea? Now look who’s had too many pints!”

Though, the tension only intensified, spreading outward like ripples on water, as Boromir averted his gaze.

“Boromir, tell em’ that he’s crazy! There be none of these sea women!” Heimir persisted, anxiety now stirring through his bones.

However, the silence lingered. It was strong and still—oppressive even. It magnified the odors of the stale ale, tavern piss, and sticky sweat that clung to the unwashed bodies that frequented such a joint.

“S-she sang to me,” Boromir whispered, for the second time that day.

Heimir and Stinar froze, their pints stiff and unmoving before their lips.

Iwar's weathered hand clamped tightly around the Captain of the Minas Tirith Guard's arm, his grip desperate and tinged with panic. “Did ye see it? The jewelry of bone? The slimy tail as hard as stone? They will sing to lure ye into their trap. Then they will devour ye in their nests of coral! Ye saw one of em,’ didn’t yer?”

Boromir's brows knitted together in disbelief. It seemed utterly preposterous, a mere fabrication spun from the ramblings of an old, intoxicated mind. There couldn't possibly be sea-dwelling women hunting them down. It was a nonsensical tale. With a dismissive gesture, he reached for his cup of ale, freeing his arm from the old man's grasp. "I have no idea what you're talking about. There was only a woman—a human woman."

Heimir grinned, laughing loudly and obnoxiously, as he slapped the Captain of the Guard's shoulder. “AYE! No sea tits to lure ya away from us! LET’S DRINK!”

…..

(Y/N) form twisted and turned as she moved with the current. She easily slipped above the corals and the reefs, through the sand dunes and the seagrass meadows, beyond the underwater canyons and the abyssal trenches. As she moved further, her iridescent scales—green, blue, purple, pink, orange—shimmered in the sunlight that had made it through the thick water, casting a mesmerizing display of colors. With each flick of her tail, she effortlessly propelled herself forward, closer to the realm of the merfolk.

As she came across one of the ship graveyards, she could not resist slipping through the ruins. Her keen eyes scanned her surroundings, curious and watchful, as she navigated the underwater cemetery. While she swam, her gaze drifted over all the little trinkets and forgotten treasures that the humans were forced to leave behind. Things she knew and things she did not. Books, maps, chests, and clothes—all scattered and heavy at the bottom of the sea. All forgotten. All forbidden.

As she came upon one of the men’s skeletons her brows pulled together and her hand reached for her necklace. The soft whispers of the sea echoed, as if it was trying to convince her to do what she desired. She knew she shouldn't. She knew she shouldn't make something for a human. It was a custom of the sea folk—not something to be shared with the land-dwellers. However, an insistent voice within the watery depths urged her on. (Y/N) cast a cautious glance in both directions, torn between her instincts and the weight of tradition. Succumbing to the persistent salty murmurings in her ear, she yielded to temptation. Seizing hold of one of the bones—the femur—she forcefully dislodged it from its resting place.

(Y/N) had initially intended to return directly to her father's castle, concealed beneath the shifting vallying dunes. However, something else tugged at her mind. If she were to proceed, she needed to acquire knowledge. With a sharp twist of her tail, she pushed herself back towards the ship that held the maps and artifacts. Her delicate hands sifted through each item, seeking the one she sought. Eventually, she stumbled upon a relatively intact parchment, its ink only slightly drifting. It contained a comprehensive depiction of the land, with all the locations meticulously scrawled. Every river and pond was carefully marked, and the paths upon the land were intricately detailed. It held the very information she needed.

With the map firmly grasped in one hand and the bone held carefully in the other, (Y/N) swam swiftly back home. It didn't take long for her to locate a secluded crevice where she could settle herself. There, she devoted hours upon hours to examine the parchment depicting the lands of the surface dwellers, tracing her finger along the various routes and pathways. When she exhausted such things, her attention turned to the femur that she had securely stowed in her bag. With quick movements, she continued to rummage through her satchel until her fingers found the familiar shape of a knife. (Y/N) then embarked on her task, delicately scraping the blade against the bone's surface, etching the carving she had planned.

It was only when her sister Anahita's voice reached her ears that (Y/N) finally lifted her gaze from her endeavors. “(Y/N)! There you are! Father has been oh so worried!”

Nerida echoed her sentiments. “Where have you been?!”

Amidst their inquiries, a mischievous gasp escaped from Una's lips, her tone playful, “By the shipwrecks, I see!”

‘The shipwrecks? What is your purpose there? You know the sharks like to linger,” Anahita persisted.

Slightly flustered by their sudden appearance and interrogation, (Y/N) swiftly concealed the bone, which was slowly taking the form of a whale, behind her tail. "What? No! Certainly not!" she responded, attempting to dismiss any notion of her activities near the shipwrecks.

Una swam towards her, giggling, before she snatched the femur from under her sister’s tale. “A bone from the human graves. Someone is in love!!!!!” she sang out.

“Shut up, Una! No, I am not!” (Y/N) retorted, her voice tinged with embarrassment and denial.

Plucking the half finished craving from Una, Nerdia joined in the teasing. “OoOo! A whale! Compassion. Care. Benevolence. Given to the protectors of the weak.”

Anahita grinned. “So who is it? Someone in the Sea’s Royal Guard?”

Una gasped. “Perhaps, Tamesis?! Oh, or Kai! Kai was always sweet on you!”

With an assertive glare, (Y/N) snatched the makeshift whale back into her possession. “It is not Tamesis or Kai!”

“Oh, so there is someone!”

An instant coral color flushed (Y/N)'s cheeks, her embarrassment evident. "Eat a pufferfish" she exclaimed, her angry words accompanied by the playful giggles of her sisters.

As the hours slipped away, (Y/N) put the finishing touches on her bone carving and made the necessary preparations for her secret expedition. She gathered the essential supplies: the map, her knife, a handful of oysters, and, of course, the delicately crafted whale.

As dusk settled and the sun's rays no longer reached the depths of the merfolk's domain, (Y/N) set out on her journey. Her sisters slumbered peacefully, unaware of her departure, while the guards remained oblivious to the existence of the hidden entrance she had been using for years. With determined swishes of her fins, she swam swiftly through the sea, her heart pulsating with anticipation. Eventually, she came upon the beach where she had left Boromir. Breaking the surface—a forbidden action that now lost the fear attached to it—she was not surprised to find the sand absent of his presence. He was likely up with the other people of the land, doing land-people things.

(Y/N) swiveled her head and contorted her graceful form until she located the mouth of the Anduin River. It would serve as her conduit to the grand city, her navigation, her concealment. It would lead her to the place where she would find him. She recalled how the men from the shipwreck had addressed him with the title of ‘sir.’ He had to be important. The important ones were always addressed as ‘sir’ and they always lived in the big cities.

The mermaid inhaled sharply, reconsidering her mission. This would be it. Once she did this, there was no taking it back. It was the moment of no return. She bit her lip. Consequences be damned. Fuck the forbidden.

So, (Y/N) gracefully glided through the currents. Her silky fins steered her through the Anduin, the gentle ebb and flow of the river guiding her way. As she swam, the distant echoes of voices reached her ears, growing louder with each passing moment. They were voices filled with excitement and joy, resonating with laughter, cheers, and animated conversations. Curiosity danced in her eyes as she neared the surface, her head emerging from the water like a whale coming up for air. With her gaze fixed on the scene before her, she observed intently, taking in the lively spectacle unfolding beyond the riverbank.

The first thing she noticed, after the sounds of life that had traveled through the water, were the smells. Thousands of different scents drifted through the air—ones that she could not identify other than the instinctual fragrances of smoke and flavor: food, she guessed. Spices and sweets filtered through her nostrils, captivating her attention. She wondered what they tasted like. The next thing that piqued her interest was the colors and action. It appeared that she had surfaced next to a social market, a sort of eatery, or a…something. Men sat upon benches drinking, eating, and speaking. There seemed to be more so inside the building, but some flowed out, stumbling and dizzy. The sloshing of the liquid in their cups appeared to be the culprit as they moved with sloppy ease. Inebriated. They were inebriated. The merfolk could get like that if they ate too much Sarpa Salpa—the dreamfish of the sea bream, they called it. Though how the men fumbled was a bit different to how the merfolk did. The humans had legs…not tails, after all.

(Y/N) with wide eyes and parted lips could not stop seeing it all—a simple little tavern, yet it was bursting with passion and life. By Ulmo! It was beautifully, terrifyingly, strangely exciting.

Though that excitement turned into a nervous thrill. A fluttering sensation rose from the depths of her stomach, coursed through her heart, and finally settled like a bubble in her throat. It was a strange wave of emotions, a mismatched concoction of hope and uncertainty, as a figure emerged from the establishment before her. In that moment, disbelief clouded her thoughts. No, it couldn't be. The eagerness she felt at the possibility of finding him oh so easily was restrained by a nagging doubt, a flicker of skepticism whispered in the corners of her mind. Could it truly be him? Could this chance meeting be the end of her quest? Though, that waving dark sandy hair that ran across his forehead and the stubble beard that matched did not lie. She had carried that man through the rapids and held his face in her palms. It indeed was him—Boromir.

(Y/N) was quick to duck behind a large rock, peering beside it with those cautious and curious eyes of her. She watched as he moved to look out up the river, seemingly contemplating his thoughts. His face was stern and still, almost emotionless. But his eyes—they betrayed him. They pooled with uncertainty and confusion, a lingering level of sadness hiding underneath a lack of understanding. He seemed….lonely.

(Y/N)’s fingers gripped at the rock as she leaned forward with fascination; however, she wasn't paying much mind to her hold, for it slipped and her hand fell into the water with a splash.

Guided by instinct, Boromir’s head snapped in her direction.

She was quick to duck behind the rock, her sleek skin and iridescent scales melding against the cool surface of the stone, ensuring her presence remained hidden.

“Is someone out there?” his voice called.

(Y/N) held her breath, but he made no move to search further. Instead, she heard his footsteps retreating.

She scoped out his motions quietly, following his form with her chasing eyes. She had just found him. She didn't want to lose sight of him—not when she didn't know where to find him again! Having only a second to make a decision, (Y/N) dunked under the water. Her eyesight angled upwards as she swam deep in the river alongside him. He paused, every one and a while, glancing at the stream, and everytime he did, the mermaid would push herself deeper and deeper into the depths.

It was a short endeavor. A fifteen minute swim—though it would have been faster if she wasn't going at such a slow pace to match Boromir’s strides—before he went where she could not follow: The Minas Tirith Castle. He parted from the way of the river and began the ascending path towards the brilliant white castle. (Y/N) had been correct in her assumption: he was indeed someone of importance. As he disappeared from sight, she surfaced above the waterline, her gaze fixed on the spot where he had vanished. She would see him again. She had to. (Y/N) turned her attention to her surroundings, taking in the scenery for her return. The water stretched ahead, extending towards the north, but another path curved around the castle. Driven by curiosity, she followed that bend, gracefully swimming amidst the swaying seagrass, startling small fish with her playful movements in the late hour. Before long, she reached an opening where the river flowed into a steady pond.

The mermaid's grin widened as she glided through the water, relishing the caress of the cool night air against her skin. Tilting her head back, she gazed up at the towering castle that loomed above her. Its grandeur and intricacy surpassed anything she had ever seen in her underwater kingdom. It boasted multiple tiers, labyrinthine pathways, countless rooms, and majestic balconies. It was a sight to behold, captivating her with its magnificence. However, her gaze abruptly froze, and an audible gasp escaped her lips.

Standing there, on one of the balconies, was Boromir.

By Ulmo—her luck was getting ridiculous now.

His bare torso shimmered with a gentle sheen under the soft moonlight, accentuating the sculpted contours of his obviously strong body. Leaning casually against the sturdy balcony railing, his arms extended, showcasing his muscled biceps. Though, a hint of vulnerability bleed through his physical appearance, manifesting as a pensive expression etched with longing and uncertainty.

If only he cast his gaze downward, he would have seen a face that reflected that same yearning.

…..

(Y/N)’s tail swished as she ducked into the dining area of her father’s palace. As expected, she found she was not the sole presence in the room. Instead, she was greeted by the disapproving gazes of her six sisters. Their eyes bore a mixture of reproach and inquiry, silently questioning her tardiness. Though Una didn't hold that silence long.

“Where have you been?”

(Y/N) blew bubbles from her nose, trying to mask the lie with a coy reply. “Just a morning swim.”

“Ah” Nerida commented. “A morning swim.”

“Yes,” (Y/N) persisted, maintaining her charade. "The coral was absolutely enchanting in the morning light. You should experience it sometime—if only you possessed the skill to rise early.”

“Oy!” she snapped back, clearly irritated by her sister's teasing.

However, just as the sisters' playful banter was to escalate, their father gracefully entered the room. His presence commanded immediate attention. Warm greetings were exchanged, and the atmosphere shifted to one of familial harmony. It was during one of these conversations that the shipwreck, that had occurred only days prior, was brought up. Here, (Y/N)’s gaze snapped up.

"Why do you think they keep getting on ships if they keep getting caught in storms?" Rana questioned, her voice filled with genuine curiosity. "You would think they would learn from their mistakes, wouldn't they?"

Anahita nodded in agreement, her expression contemplative. "They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results."

Mareena chimed in, her tone tinged with a hint of bitterness. "They are quite disgusting, aren't they? Killing us for sport, and yet they willingly put themselves in harm's way for the same reasons."

However, (Y/N) decided to offer a different perspective, breaking the momentary silence that followed. "Well, actually," she began, her voice confident yet cautious. "They use ships to trade supplies with other land-dwellers."

All eyes shifted to (Y/N) with suspicion.

“Isn't that right, father?’ she quickly tacked on.

The tension in the room immediately dissipated as their father nodded in agreement. "Yes, that is true. They have established numerous trade routes, and ships are their means of transportation. It's a very different way of life compared to ours, and unfortunately, it has also led to numerous conflicts and wars between them. The desire for variety and resources has come at a great cost. They traded it for death.”

“How–how do you know all this father?” (Y/N) questioned timidly. “You say it as if you have spent time with them.”

The older merman let out a weary sigh, placing his shell filled with food down on the table. "I have," he admitted, his gaze filled with distant memories.

Instantly, the room fell into a stunned silence as all eyes fixated on their father, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief.

“I have walked among them before and it was my greatest mistake.”

“You-you what?” Seria gapped.

“Among them?” Una blurted.

“But why would you want to do such a thing?!” Anahita inquired.

Their father's gaze turned solemn as he recounted his past. "Long before any of you were born, during the War of the Riptide, my father sent me to infiltrate the land-dwellers' realm. I lived among them, observing their ways, gathering their secrets. But it was a treacherous undertaking that nearly cost me my life.” He paused, tacking on an additional mumbling sentence: “Those eel fuckers."

A heavy silence enveloped the room, the weight of their father's revelation sinking in. Only the sound of their hearts pounding in their chests broke the stillness, each of them grappling with the newfound knowledge of their father's past—even more dangerous than they were led to believe.

“H–how did you walk among them, father? How did you get legs?” (Y/N) probed, though she knew she shouldn't have.

Their father's gaze turned dark and filled with years of pent-up anger and regret as he locked eyes with her. For a moment, she feared he wouldn't reveal the answer. However, he finally spoke, his voice carrying a hint of bitterness. "Some of us possess a rare gift. When our bodies are completely dry, void of any water upon our skin or tails, we have the ability to transform into a legged form."

Instantly, gasps and chatter sounded.

“My daughters–” he addressed, though they did not listen. “QUIET!!!”

Startled, the mermaid sisters fell silent, their wide-eyed gazes fixed on their father.

“It is a very rare gift—one that is almost never seen—and only passed by blood if the gods wish to curse you with it. It is the most dangerous gift to have. One drop of water on your skin when you have legs has your tail growing back in seconds. And then you are killed by those humans that bore witness.”

Shock dripped from the daughters of the king of the sea.

"But fear not," their father reassured them, his voice softening. "None of you possess this gift. I tested each of you when you were born."

Expressions of worry, relief, and confusion danced across their faces, but (Y/N) couldn't help but notice a peculiar look in their father's eyes—a gaze that lingered strangely upon her.

……

The following day brimmed with a mix of excitement and trepidation as (Y/N) patiently awaited Boromir's arrival at the entrance of Minas Tirith. Rising before the sun, she positioned herself by the riverside, her heart fluttering with anticipation.

To her surprise, Boromir emerged on a horse, his form clad steel. Silver plates of armor adorned his muscular frame, providing a formidable shield for his vital organs. His attire was decorated further with weapons forged from the finest metals, poised and ready to be unsheathed at the slightest hint of danger. She knew he was important.

Though, this newfound knowledge began to stir dread into her soul. Boromir was a soldier—not a sailor. He trained in the art of warfare and killing. If he had been born centuries earlier, he might have been among those who waged war against her kind. He could have one of the hunters who pursued her father. One of those…eel fuckers…as he had put it. Yet, (Y/N) reassured herself that Boromir was different. He valued life. He couldn't be like his ancestors.

(Y/N) followed him, along the river (as much as she could) as the hours stretched on. She watched as he navigated the city as if he knew every turn and every crevice. She observed as he conversed with the people, each one eager to speak to him. She perceived as he stood guard at the entrance of the city, until the sun had set and his shift was taken over by another. And she peered up at him as he ended his nights upon his balcony—only once hearing him speak to another, a brother she guessed, of a lingering feeling of being watched.

For three days, she partook in his routine.

For three days, she made it her own.

And, for three days, she learned all she could about him.

Yes, he was a soldier, but not just any soldier. He was the Captain of the Minas Tirith Guard. He was the son of the Steward, who was ruling in place of a king, for in these times of uncertainty, Boromir stepped forward to help his father protect and care for the city he held so dear. He bore the weight of leadership and responsibility, serving as a pillar of strength and guidance for his people. He was a good man—doing just as much work as the men he commanded.

It wasn't until the end of the third day, however, that Boromir deviated from his routine. Much to (Y/N)’s surprise, instead of going up the path towards the castle, he deviated to follow the river that went along the bend of the white palace wall.

(Y/N) swam deep below the surface beside him, slipping into the center of the pool as he went to the edge.

The Captain of the Guard sat down upon the sandy bank and began to untie his boots. The night was warmer than it had been, for winter had ended and spring was just beginning to break. So, she wasn't surprised, when he rolled up the bottoms of his trousers and stuck his feet in.

(Y/N)’s heart was pounding and her blood ran quickly, for she had never been so close to him since she held his unconscious, drowning form.

It was forbidden.

She watched for a while, as his face and body seemed to droop. The weight of his responsibilities and the burdens of his past seemed to bear down on him. The façade of strength and cheer that he wore for the world gradually faded away, revealing the vulnerability and weariness that lay beneath. Though it wasn't until a tear ran down his cheek that she truly began to worry. Was it the lingering aftermath of the shipwreck that haunted him? Did it have more of a permanent effect on him? It seemed as though the shadow of that dreadful event lingered deep within. She had urged him to embrace life—to survive. But this sadness…was it preventing him so?

Cautiously, she dug in her bag and pulled out the bone carving of the whale. Now was her chance. Maybe she could offer some comfort? Though, she knew she couldn't swim up and hand it to him, for he couldn't know that she was there—not yet, not now. She wouldn't risk her people being known to the land-folk. She wouldn’t endanger them. Her father would surely be furious at her if she did. Besides, if she were to rise now, she would give Boromir such a fright.

Therefore, taking a rock from the bottom of the pond, she positioned herself as close as she dared to Boromir. She ensured that she remained hidden beneath the water's surface, maintaining the delicate balance between proximity and secrecy. She then put her plan into action. She tossed the stone through the water, sending it up with a subtle splash, diverting Boromir's attention to the ripples created in its wake. As quick as a shark—if not quicker—(Y/N) flicked her tail hard. She rose close to the surface and lobbed the whale beside the man before plummeting down into the depths.

When Boromir’s head turned back, he noticed the little craving.

(Y/N) peered up as she watched his confused expression.

His brows pulled together and his lips parted. Cautiously, he picked it up. It fit in his palm quite nicely. Not too big, not too small. His fingers twisted around its delicate form with ease. He examined it, running the tip of his index finger along the length of the piece and his thumb brushing over the flippers. “Where did you come from?” he whispered with a smile.

Boromir stayed at the pond for nearly an hour, (Y/N) staying with him. His fingers aimlessly fiddling with the whale as he gazed up at the stars, taking time to breath—to live. And when he turned to leave, he took the whale with him.

…..

As the next two weeks passed on, (Y/N) adopted Boromir’s routine as a part of her own. Though not every day she could do as such, for her father and sisters began to notice her absence. So, in order to avoid their suspicion, there were stretches of time where she did not get to swim up to the Anduin River. Instead, she spent her hours wandering around her father’s palace, helping with mer-duties and daydreaming of the Captain of Gondor.

However, the days where she gilded upon the waters in Minas Tirith were the most exciting. Now that the weather was warm, the city truly came to life. Markets opened daily where food, drink, cloth, and trinkets were sold. If (Y/N) was lucky, one of such tents would open right beside the river. When no one was looking, she would reach a hand from the water and grab a thing or two. She had gotten to try some very interesting foods; however, she figured they would taste much better if she didn't plunge them into the salty river the second she got her hands on them. Alas, that was the cost of avoiding detection—a price she was willing to pay. (Y/N) also was able to snatch various little objects, but most of the time she didn't know what they were. She found herself wishing that she had received the gift that her father had—the gift of transformation to a legged form. She wanted to be where the land-folk were—where Boromir was.

The captain had begun to stay out later, going to the tavern with his friends here and there. On those nights, he would disappear inside, for hours, and (Y/N) would wait in the river for him to return—in whatever state he would be in. Some nights he would have smiles plastered across his face as he giddily stumbled home. Other nights it would be a solemn expression, a tear escaping here and there, as he swayed like the gentle tide. But the worst nights? Those were the ones that ended in screams from the balcony above the little pool. Nightmares now plagued Boromir’s mind, waking him up and coating him in fear—and sweat. The only relief would be the cold night’s air and the barely audible sound of (Y/N) voice. (Y/N) always knew when those nights had arrived, for they were the ones when his brother, Faramir, had to come to the tavern and get him. It was those nights when Boromir’s body folded and slumped against his brother’s, for Faramir would drape the captain’s arm over his shoulder and drag him back to the Minas Tirith castle. It was those nights when the man, that appeared so strong, would speak in sentences just as broken as he was. It was those nights when he spoke of the shipwreck, of the darkness, of the piece of his soul that went missing in the Black Sea. And just once—he whispered to his brother of her. The woman who saved him from the depths. Those nights—those hurt the most. Yet, despite all this, he carried the whale carving with him everywhere he went—on a string upon his neck.

But, now that the weather was warmer, Boromir came to the pond almost every night that he wasn’t at the tavern…and the nights at the tavern lessened. Here, he would contemplate the sadness and separation he seemed to now have, but it appeared that he had a sort of comfort by the little lake. This comfort may or may not have been another gift from (Y/N). When the captain would stick his feet into the water, the mermaid would hum to heal his heart. The vibrations, subtle they were, would filter through the lake and soak into his skin. As he was not immersed, he could not hear the beautiful sounds, but he would at least feel some of the rejuvenating property it held. It was something he had felt before upon the shore and something he continued to feel when the nightmares drove him to the balcony.

Today had proven to be an unusually scorching and grueling day for Boromir. The relentless sun beat down upon him, intensifying the already restless atmosphere among the people. Amidst the sweltering heat, he found himself engaged in a relentless pursuit of a thief who had attempted to snatch a coin pouch from the frail hands of an elderly woman. Luckily for the Captain, a little puddle of water mysteriously slithered out in-front of the thief, causing him to slip and allowing Boromir to arrest him.

Given that that activity, and more, took its toll upon the man of duty, Boromir found himself in the shelter of the tavern with the comfort of his friends. However, that appeared to not be enough, for that night Boromir left the tavern and wandered to the pond—(Y/N) slithering in the depths of the Anduin by his side.

Under the water on the lake, (Y/N) floated in the soft currant, her eyes closed and her humming drifting through the ripples. She was content and was hoping to bring some of that serenity to the man that was to put his feet in the pool. This, of course, explained why she was so startled when his entire body dove into the water. With eyes as wide as the full moon, (Y/N) twisted her form to stare in fear and alarm at the man that stripped to nothing but his undergarments and sunk only six feet across from her. But true terror did not hit her until Boromir’s eyes opened.

When those bright blue eyes met hers with just as much horror, if not more, he instantly scrambled backwards—her doing the same.

Maybe if they both had stopped to see just how scared the other was, they would have realized that they were not in danger; but instinct had taken over as they desperately tried to get away from each other.

Luckily enough, it appeared that they had not been alone. A large hand shot down from the surface and gripped upon Boromir’s arm. In seconds, he was pulled up and out of the water—gasping and fumbling upon the bank.

“What the hell, Boromir?!” the voice of Faramir sounded.

The Captain scrambled upon the sand and muddied land, backing away from the water frantically. “T-there w-was–down there, the water, Eru, d-down there—s-something. Mermaid.”

“Boromir, are you drunk?!” he snapped. “By the Valar—you are! Again?!”

“F-Faramir, there was-was a woman down there,” the captain murmured, struggling to stand.

His brother sighed in dismay as he grasped onto Boromir’s arm once more and helped him steady. “You have been having too many conversations with Iwar…and too many drinks.” He pulled upon the captain again. “Let’s get you in bed before you decide to go for another drunken swim.”

With that, Faramir helped dress his brother—just enough to get past the guards without embarrassing the intoxicated captain—and guided him home, trying to ignore the blubbering of the anxious mess he led.

(Y/N) stayed still at the bottom of the pond, shock baring her fins from any movement.

Well, damn. Fuck the Forbidden. It really bit her in the tail.

Everything Tag: @scxundress @lea----b @aredhel-of-gondolin @princecami @the-fandoms-georgie @jazziwritestolkienprimary @swimming-in-stardust @elvish-sky @red-riding @brun-lieve @hey-its-nonny @mirclealignr @elizabeth-anya-knight @sydney-1209 @laneynoir @straysugzhpe @runningfeather @finallyforgotten @kaiawrites @commanderawkward @xxbluestrifexx @slytherinambitious @redbirdbluebird @desert-fern @galadaelin @skairipakomtrikru @genderfluid-anime-goth @skairipakomtrikru @Tpwkcalli @hemera1227 @sotwk

Everything But Spice Tag: @goldfearless @insert-random-blog-name-here @cauliflowertree @heranintomyknife23times @mxmia @unethicallypleistocene

Boromir Tag: @scyllas-revenge @lord-westley

add yourself to my taglist

#vayawrites #lotr #lord of the rings #the hobbit #boromir #boromir x reader #boromir/reader #boromir x Fem!reader #boromir x mermaid reader #boromir/MermaidReader #mermaid #LOTR fic #lotr fanfic #LOTR fanfiction #boromir fic #boromir fanfic #boromir fanfiction

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scotianostra · 10 months ago

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Happy birthday Scottish TV host and entertainer Craig Ferguson born in Glasgow, on May 17th, 1962.

Ferguson was born in Stobhill Hospital and brought up not far from where I now live in nearby Cumbernauld. He admits to growing up "chubby and bullied" At age sixteen hen left Cumbernauld High School and began an apprenticeship to be an electronics technician at a local factory of American company Burroughs Corporation.

In the early 1980s, Ferguson drummed in punk bands for a few years before a bartending job led him to Michael Boyd, the artistic director of the Tron Theatre. Boyd talked Ferguson into giving acting a shot, which Ferguson soon did, finding the comedy prong of the art too compelling to ignore.

Ferguson soon created an outrageous—and successful—stage character called Bing Hitler. On top of the local success he was experiencing, Ferguson used the experience as a backdrop from which to move into mainstream acting roles.

Craig Ferguson’s first TV appearance came on an episode of the sci-fi sitcom Red Dwarf in 1988, and it was enough to get Ferguson to head overseas to the United States for his first role on American TV. The part was playing a teacher in the pilot episode of High (1989), which starred Gwyneth Paltrow and Zach Braff. The pilot wasn’t picked up, though, and Ferguson headed back to Scotland.

Once back in the UK, Ferguson found that roles came sporadically before he landed his own BBC show The Ferguson Theory in 1994 While the sketch comedy show put the funnyman front and centre, it only lasted five episodes.

When Theory was no more, Ferguson packed his bags once again for America. But this time he’d find a lot more success waiting for him than he did years before. When Ferguson joined The Drew Carey Show as Nigel Wick in 1996, his run lasted several seasons and led to the actor becoming a known quantity in the world of U.S. television.

Ferguson’s busy life on TV and the big screen got a lot busier in January 2005, when he took over the late-night comedy series The Late Late Show. Once it found its footing, Ferguson’s show was another hit, earning its first Emmy nomination a year into its run. Mixed in with his work on the show were several high-profile big-screen roles, often voice-over work, in movies like How to Train Your Dragon, Winnie the Pooh and Brave.

Ferguson, who became an American citizen in 2008, is also an author, publishing Between the Bridge and the River and American on Purpose.

On 28 April 2014, Ferguson announced he would be leaving The Late Late Show at the end of 2014, with the final episode airing on 19th December that year.

Ferguson is a recovering alcoholic, sober since 18th February 1992, another Scot who has dealt with his depression, he admits to having considered suicide before giving up the bottle.

In 2017 he released a six-episode web show with his wife, Megan Wallace Cunningham, titled Couple Thinkers. For two seasons from 2021, Ferguson hosted the American game show The Hustler, which airs on ABC.

In 2022, an adaptation of Ferguson's film Saving Grace (2000) was announced as a stage musical in which Ferguson will portray a "villainous banker". It was adapted by April De Angelis from Ferguson's and Mark Crowdy's screenplay, with music by fellow Scot KT Tunstall. In October 2022, the musical was confirmed to run for a limited twelve performances at Riverside Studios from 22 November until 4 December 2022 as an "intimate first run.

The rumor mill has been buzzing that Craig is thinking about returning to the talk show ranks In a recent interview he said;

“I have meetings next week in Los Angeles for a show,” Ferguson said, calling from New England while on vacation with his family. “I’m considering doing a show but I just don’t want to do one every day. I like doing a talk show, but not enough to do it every single day.”

#scotland #scottish #history #actor #comedian #entertainer #happy birthday

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anonsally · 6 months ago

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Day 1 in Chile: Arrival and Valparaíso

Neither of us slept much on the overnight flight to Santiago, and I have to report that landing in darkness in a place you've never been is a bit anticlimactic. I was sad not to get to see the Andes from above. However, the important thing is that we arrived safely and so did our luggage, and by the time we left the airport, the sun was up. It was cold!

Central Chile is pretty hilly, with vegetation reminiscent of much of California--scrubby bushes, some succulents and cacti, some palm trees, eucalypts, and California poppies. We drove [er, we were driven. we did not rent a car.] through some agricultural areas and one of the wine-making valleys before reaching the coast.

Our hotel in Valparaíso has a backyard, and while we were getting combobulated in the hotel room (we were able to check in early), we saw an interesting bird out the window. I was able to get a look through my binoculars and identified it as a fire-eyed diucon! Exciting! My first new bird of the trip! (Well, the first one I could identify. I saw corvids and raptors out the window on the way from airport to hotel, but not well enough to identify any of them.)

We also saw roof cats! This city is built on 42 hills, has several funiculars still in operation, and lots of murals in a diversity of styles. One side effect of the steep hills is that the cats wandering around find it easy to access rooftops.

Once we had freshened up, we headed out and found a cafe for brunch (we hadn't had much of a breakfast). This revived us enough to go for a wander. We wanted to ride the funicular, but it costs about 10 cents, so naturally you have to pay cash, and we didn't have any cash. So we had to walk down to the train station to find a machine where we could withdraw money. Then we found the nearest funicular and rode it up a hill. That was an extremely fun 45 seconds! It was very steep and actually saved a pretty long uphill climb on foot. We wandered around, admiring murals and the view, taking photos, and buying gifts, chocolate, etc. We found our way to another funicular and rode it down and then back up! More wandering, and then eventually when we were really flagging we came back to the hotel.

Wife then looked at the plugs and realised she didn't have the right kind of adaptor, so we headed out to try to find her one. We were exhausted so we walked partway, took the funicular down, walked quite a way and then discovered that the shop Google had directed us to was closed (it was past 5pm on a Sunday). We were demoralised, but managed to take a bus to the train station and returned to a shop we'd popped in at earlier for something else--but they didn't have any adaptors left. However, the woman working there explained that a two-prong European plug does plug into the 3-prong Chilean outlets, so Wife's adaptors should work after all.

At that point we were famished. We took a funicular back up (for those of you keeping track, that was 5 rides total on 2 different funiculars) and went to a nearby family-run restaurant where we ate a delicious but massively overabundant dinner. Which was a pity because the cakes looked really lovely, but I was too full to order a slice. I did, however, have a lovely cherimoya juice with my meal (it tasted like candy!), and we shared a shot of delicious cacao liqueur for a digestivo.

It was a steep walk in the cold back to the hotel, and I'm planning to go to bed very soon because I'm so exhausted and because we are getting up early tomorrow for our birdwatching tour.

#personal #travel #birdwatching #i love cats

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echoingbirdsofprey · 2 months ago

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Lost In The Fire

17 - I Might Break And Bend To My Basic Need to Be Loved And Close To Somebody

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC Dayanara Vyse

Rating: Explicit (MDNI!)

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected!piv (wrap before you tap) canon typical violence, sad!Din

A/N: I think you know what happens in this one.

The first flight of Stormtroopers came in fast and hard.

Din and Fennec, who Boba had brought along after saving her, teamed up to take down a large portion of the infantry. Boba saw that the Razor Crest's hatch had been left open and he made a run for it.

He wanted that armor. He would be of more help with it than without. Daya hid behind boulders as she followed Boba down toward the ship. She snuck in behind Boba, going up to the cockpit to grab the data chip with her clan's location and the one that Fox had given them. She didn't want Imperials getting a hold of those. Next, she slid down the ladder and was met by Boba.

"You shouldn't be down here. You should be up there with your boyfriend." He said gruffly and Daya smirked. She wasn't going to deny any of that.

"Just had to grab something. Might help." She said, reaching for the Amban Pulse Rifle. Boba nodded in agreement then put his helmet on. They both made their way back up to the fighting, taking out several Stormtroopers that had come off the second transport on their way back up. The rifle, the size of Daya, was difficult for her to carry but was an excellent melee weapon, as she could swing it around in a five foot radius and hit anything. Several of the troopers had succumbed to the electric prongs on the end.

When Boba and Daya finally reached Din and Fennec. They noticed the troopers had begun to retreat. The transports lifted off and that was when Boba decided they weren't getting away

He aimed for the closer ship, but his jetpack missile hit the other one, effectively knocking both from the sky.

"Nice shot." Din said, stepped up closer to Boba.

"I was aiming for the other one." He said with a lilt of humor in his voice. Daya swore she heard Din chuckle slightly but then out of the sky a huge red ion bolt rained down.

And tragedy struck.

♡

It all happened so fast.

The ion bolt decimated the Razor Crest.

Decimated, destroyed, incinerated. The Crest was ashes. Nothing left. And Din couldn't believe his eyes.

The next thing was the Kid.

Dark troopers had been sent down to grab him and it was all Din and Daya could do to get up to him in time.

Daya had arrived on the henge before Din, scrambling up the rocks and just as her feet met the flat plateau of the top, a Dark Trooper, something she'd never seen before, threw her hard into one of the stone pillars, making her black out from the impact.

When she came to, only a few moments later, Din was trying to rouse her, then he was carrying her, and then he was following Boba to his ship.

The last thing Daya saw before she drifted back out of consciousness was Din's visor laser focused on getting her to safety.

♡

The kid is gone. The Razor Crest is gone. The only thing he still had was Daya. Though he's gained new allies, it barely matters. He's depressed. He's distraught. And the only one who really knows that is Daya. And she took a hit for the kid. He felt physically ill seeing her doubled over in pain. His stomach was in knots carrying her to Boba's ship, laying her down on the makeshift bed, and letting Fennec take over.

Din sat in the co-pilot's seat while Boba put in coordinates to Nevarro. First order of business was to find someone who knew how to find Moff Gideon's light cruiser. Din guessed that perhaps an ex-Imperial might know how to do that. The only ex-Imperial he knew was Mayfeld.

♡

The Dark Trooper came at her, the others flying up into the air, one with Grogu in tow. She'd only ever been one-shotted that hard once before and this felt different because the last time she'd actually been shot. This time, her back hit the ground so hard, she'd known immediately that something was broken. The Dark Trooper flew away, leaving her there, breath knocked out of her completely. The first to her side had been Din, then Fennec, and then Boba. Din picked her up carefully, and she wanted so badly to speak but she felt like she couldn't get a word out or take a breath in. She wondered if this was what it felt like to drown.

She knew Din was angry that she'd been injured. She knew he was sad about Grogu. She knew he was devastated about the Crest. All that, and he still carried her to Boba's ship. He set her down carefully and then Fennec sent him away. Fennec did her best with what they had. She pulled Daya's armor off and examined her back.

"I think you broke some ribs. Might need to hang out in a bacta tank. But for now I can just wrap it for support and give you something for the pain." Fennec explained, being careful as she placed a bacta patch over the area that had already bruised, then a gauze pad for cushion, then a wrap around Daya's lower middle ribs. She then gave Daya something to drink, which tasted like absolute shit, that she almost spat out.

"Sorry. Dissolved pain meds in it. Figured that'd be easier than just downing the powder." Fennec said with a small smile, trying to be reassuring. Daya nodded and closed her eyes. Fennec squeezed her shoulder and Daya heard her footsteps retreat.

Everything sounded loud. Daya swore she could hear the instrumentation in the cockpit beeping, heavy footfalls coming up and down the ramp, the clink of beskar, and shifting of leather and wool. She could literally hear Din's cape swish behind him. Those were good drugs, she thought as she began to slip in and out of consciousness.

♡

Din knelt beside Daya. He took her hand in his. He didn't want to wake her up. Her eyes fluttered open slightly, then she closed them completely again, leaving a small smirk on the corner of her lips. He took a deep breath, letting out a long sigh and switched positions, deciding to sit beside her on the floor. He held his knees with one arm, chin rested on his arm, and the fingers of that hand woven through Daya's. Her breathing was more shallow than normal, but he suspected breaking ribs did that. He sat there for a while, contemplating their next move. He wanted to check with Boba as to where they were in their journey, so he began to take his hand away from hers and she stirred slightly.

"Wait...don't pull away...not yet." She said softly. The dulled gold in her eyes told him what he needed to know. She would not be strong enough to go on this mission with him. He made his decision then.

"I'm going to have to take you home." He said softly, pushing hair out of her face. Her brow furrowed and a greater look of concern flooded her expression. The thought of being away from Din, especially now, drowned her in sorrow.

"No...no...I just need bacta...and I'll be fine." She rasped, her voice breaking.

"You need to heal." He said, his voice unsteady too. He carefully took one of her hands in his and caressed her cheek. This probably wasn't the time for him to make a decision as big as this. He didn't even know if he could bring her home yet. Was her family back home or were they still on the run?

"I need to stay with you." She muttered, adjusting herself with difficulty. She wanted to sit up. She wanted to try to do whatever she could to convince him to not make a stupid choice.

"Daya." He said, as he rose to his knees, his hands still on her. He was demanding. She was pleading.

"Din...please..." She begged, pain and fear evident. Din could hear it and it hurt him too. Maybe he could work something out but he settled for pressing his helmet to her forehead, and letting go of her hands for the moment. He stayed with her for a while longer, waiting for her to fall asleep again.

♡

Daya was out. She was dreaming of Maker only knew what. Din almost wished he knew. He made his way from the belly of the Slave I to the cockpit, where Boba Fett sat in the pilot's seat and Fennec Shand as copilot.

"I owe you both." Din said softly, placing a hand on each of their headrests. They both glanced back at him, then at each other. Boba swiveled his chair to face Din.

"Where do you need to go?" He asked and Din sighed heavily, his brain filing through everything that had happened. He didn't even know where to start.

"I need to go to Nevarro. I have friends there who can help. I also need to figure out what to do with Daya. She needs to rest and heal." He explained. Boba nodded and let out a small chuckle.

"Yeah, try to convince her of that." He joked and it made Din smile.

One of the biggest things about Daya was that even though she was a Princess, she didn't want that to define her. She'd never backed down or out of a fight. She wouldn't ever let anyone tell her she couldn't do something. She didn't want to be treated like some delicate flower. She didn't want sympathy or pity.

And she certainly didn’t want to be left out.

♡

"Premonitions...are...dangerous. Do not ever read too much into them, for they can be wrong. They can give you false hope." A'denla said, holding Daya's hands in hers. "You've been granted this gift by the Stars, my child. A second chance."

Daya agreed with her. She'd come to discuss the dreams that she'd been having. Mostly nightmares of the mission...but there was another dream that kept popping up. It was not every night like the nightmares but it was enough that she knew it had to mean something.

"Tell me again, ad'ika." A'denla said softly, turning Daya's hands in hers so her palms were now face up. She let then rest gently in the older woman's hands. Daya closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, recalling the imagery from her dreams.

"It starts off similar to the nightmares. We're in a ship. I think it's Rhae but then this Mandalorian turns around. He's in bright, new, shining beskar. He reaches for my hands. His gloves are orange and black like Rhae's. He doesn't say anything. He just pulls me close and he takes my hand and places it on his chest, over his ka'rta beskar. I hear chanting behind us." Daya explains, and A'denla just makes a humming sound before asking her to continue. "They're beating their fists over their chests and chanting 'Mand'alor...Mand'alor."

"And you think you are destined to meet this Mandalorian?" She asks and Daya's brow furrows.

"If not then why do I keep dreaming about him?"

♡

The next time Din checked on Daya, she was sitting up, holding her side. He quickly takes stock of her whole being. She didn't seem terribly distressed or in great pain. He hoped the medicine and bacta patches Fennec used were helping. They seemed to be. He took up the spot on the bed next to her. She stared blankly down at the floor and he moved hair from her face so he could see her eyes. They still looked dull. Din put an arm around her shoulders carefully and with a finger under her chin, guided her to look up at the visor.

"You okay?" He asked, gloved fingers spreading over her cheek. She pushed into his hand, the smell of leather filling her nostrils. She glanced up at the visor again, then swallowed hard.

"I'd dreamt of you before I met you." She said then took a deep breath, wincing at the apex of the breath. Din didn't know how to take that exactly so he stayed silent hoping she'd elaborate on it further and of course she did. "I dreamt of you becoming the Mand'alor."

"That's silly. I could never lead..." He began but then stopped himself. "Those pain meds must be pretty strong..."

"Not enough for me to make up what you think is nonsense." She said, sounding slightly annoyed. Din immediately felt like a jerk. He shouldn't have said that, but when he went to apologize, she was standing, albeit uncomfortably, so he helped her the rest of the way up. "What's the plan? Are you getting rid of me?"

He stood and stepped toward her in an attempt to support her in her weakened state. He scoffed and pulled her close. She gritted her teeth, knowing he didn't mean to hurt her, but the motion gave her a twinge that went straight through to her broken ribs.

"I'm not getting rid of you. I can't." Din said, doing his best to not touch her right side. He leaned in, nearly caging her body with his. It made Daya feel hot and bothered even through the pain as he spoke. "You've got me flesh and bone. Body and soul. I can't let you go."

She pressed her nose to the visor and closed her eyes, feeling him full body sigh as she relaxed in his arms. He listened for a moment, before his hands crept around to her ass. He lifted her carefully, then began to walk towards the cot.

"Daya...I..." He began, stammering over his words and through the haze of pain, she was able to focus for a few moments, realizing what he wanted. Or what she thought he wanted.

"Need you...Din." She whispered near his ear as he sat down. He was careful, keeping his hands around her ass, and if he had to move, only running his left hand up her back. Her arms were wound around his neck, holding on for dear life. He knew she needed him not only intimately in this moment, but that their lives were intertwined and there was no going back now. Because he loved her.

"Daya, I...lo..." He stuttered, trying to get the words out, but as always she helped him and said it first.

"Din. I love you. You can't..." Her breath caught, tears forming, as she'd begun to tell him he couldn't leave but he affirmed that he wasn't. He was so gentle and so careful with her, especially now.

"I'm not...I'm not...I can't...I love you too much to let you out of my sight." He finally said, shaking his head, gloves pressing tighter into her ass. His heart was beating so hard he thought she might feel it through the beskar. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he lifted her, moving her so that he could unzip his flight suit. "I need you too."

He pulled her leggings and panties down just enough, sheathing himself inside of her with ease, and then he stilled.1 She moaned quietly, realizing through the pleasure and pain that maybe this wasn't the best time for this but she did start it and she would see it through. She knew he would be easy. He would control himself. And he did. He sat still as a statue. He wanted to move but he wouldn't. He wanted to absolutely rail her, but he didn't.

"Did you...did you hear what I said?" He stammered, voice barely above a whisper through the modulator. Her fingers tugged at his neck seal, making the hair at the base of his neck available to her.

"Say it again." She demanded, the tip of her nose at the visor. Without it, their noses would be touching. Din didn't know if he could handle that. He might lose all semblance of control. Her fingers in his hair, being so close yet so far away from having his helmet off already had him feeling some sort of way. He spoke the words.

"I love you." He said, voice soft and slow, but somehow still low and thick with lust. "You mean so much more to me than you realize, Daya. You're my weakness. The forge that will melt my beskar heart." He stopped his serenade, to pull her closer than she thought possible.

"You've reshaped me into a man I don't recognize."

#star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x oc

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ace-does-stuff · 2 years ago

Text

Like old times

Summary: This entire setting is new to him, the lights, the walls, the chair, but one thing remains the same- the electricity.

Warnings: Torture, electrocution, shock collars, tasers, past torture, trauma, bad ending, check tags for further warnings.

Authors Note: So the taser torture scene tickled my inner phans fancy and I wrote this, I don't even really know what the fuck the setting is I just know that we have torture, that's literally it, anyways, a reblog would be nice if you read it! I'm not quite sure how receptive this fandom is too gore/torture/vivsection and the likes, so I guess that's what I'm finding out tonight

Jounouchi found himself paralyzed at the sight before him, at the simple accessory on the table.

A shock collar.

A strip of leather with two metal tongs attached to it, made for bulldogs. It could kill him if the power was on long enough, and he only knows that due to personal experience.

"Do it again," Hirutani ordered.

"Are ya sure?" Hesitance was on their voice.

"I said do it again," Hirutani throws a glare in their direction.

Prongs pressed to his throat, agony shot through him alongside the heady amounts of voltage. He screamed, he screamed until it was over, his wrists burned as they rubbed against the twine. He opened his eyes again as the taser is pulled back and he sees them smirking at him as they turn it up.

He clenches his eyes shut as a pair of gloved hands lift it up and bring it to his neck. He forces his breathing steady even as the cold metal nestles against his arteries. He couldn't catch what kind of metal, if whatever he was dealing with knew anything it would be copper, strongest conductor.

"Please hold still Katsuya, this is just to keep you in order," They spoke, tone cold, Jounouchi nodded.

"I know," He took shaky breaths, grounding his feet against the floor a bit more.

They gave a hum, hand resting on a button, "Refrain from making any sound."

Rain, it was cold and wet, it made the chafe on his wrists worse with the terrible sensation. His breathing was uneven, that was what he was focusing on the most over anything. Again, the taser to his throat, the electricity jumped through the dampness of his clothing, seeping into every inch of him. He screamed again, as much as his body let him muster with everything else.

"Anything to say yet?" Hirutani asked, nudging aside his croney and grabbing Jounouchis throat.

He mustered a weak smirk, "I've said all I need," His voice is weak, and for a second the grip on his throat tightens.

"He'll break soon enough," Hirutani said, shoving back Jounouchi, he stumbled as he regained his footing in the limited movement, "Keep it up."

He shook as the words left his mouth, he answered every question perfectly. His words only stuttered once or twice, to the point the doctor took their hand off the button entirely.

"How come you came here?" They asked.

"What kind of question is that?" Jounouchi asked, he instantly regretted the words as the button was pressed on. Hundreds of watts coursed through him, he screamed as his hands shot up to his throat.

Again.

He kept screaming, thrashing in the seat he was tied too.

And again.

Jounouchi bit his tongue until it bled to stop himself from crying out, the tears still rolled. He looked up desperately at the doctor who retracted their hand from the button.

"I insist you refrain from screaming, it only makes this harder for the both of us," The doctor said, Jounouchi nodded, "Now, how come you came here?"

Jounouchi took a deep breath, recounting the events, "I was captured, detained, and then I woke up here strapped to a chair," The doctors hand returned to the button, "Everything else is blurry, aside from the fact that this electrocution stuff isn't new-"

The button was pressed again, he bit his cheek until he was sure the inside of it tore. He stifled screams to the best of his ability despite how much he wants too, at least he could still see straight.

"Do you know why we brought you here?" The doctor asked.

Jounouchi shook his head, "No."

"Because you have potential, all it requires is someone willing to drag it out," Their hand hovered to the button again, "Your one flaw is that you're full of them, this button can fix all of them in moderation."

He isn't moving anymore, he's only upright because of the pressure on his wrists. He can't force his knees straight, they just fold in on themselves again. His breathing, is he even breathing anymore? And his pulse, he seems to have misplaced in the midst of all the stress on his body. All he can do is hang his head in defeat, eyes glazed, he can't even meet Hirutanis gaze.

"Hey Hirutani he can't even talk anymore, he's just twitching now," Hirutani doesn't listen, he only stares harder at Jounouchi.

"Do it," It's an order and it barely registers in Jounouchis head.

"But if we keep going he'll die," They say quietly, hesitance clear as they hold up the taser.

"Do it," Venom is all that registers in Jounouchis head, the vitriolic hatred. He tries to focus on the prongs inching ever closer to him to deal the final blow but he can't and his eyes fall shut.

"Don't do this to me," Jounouchi is pleading, he's begging, again, a shock from his throat to his core. He cries out in agony, "Please make it stop!"

"Flaw number one," The doctor said, "Lack of stamina."

They press it again and watch as Jounouchi writhes in his seat, trying not to make a sound. He fails, stifled sobs tear through him

"Flaw number two," They speak again, "Inability to face your fears."

The button is held down this time and Jounouch is screaming, hot tears rolling down his face as he tries to pull off the collar. Restraints shoot out to grab his wrists and secure them to the armrests of the chair, smaller prongs on the leather.

"Flaw number three," They stand up, carrying a small remote, "Easy to panic."

The button is pressed again, Jounouchi screams once more, vision starting to blur. His skin tingles near the prongs, the muscles in his hands seize entirely. He sobs between screams and heavy breathing, he lets his head rest at a leaned angle.

"Flaw number four," They grip his hair and yank him back up, "Although minute, bad manners in the presence of someone else."

Gloved hands stay put in his hair as the button is pressed down on once more. It's like his screams fall on deaf ears, like his tears don't exist, like his agony is irrelevant. Here it comes, the disorientation, he remembers it vividly despite how blurry the entire taser ordeal was. He hates this part the most, how it meant he was so close to death, how much it felt like he was breathing his last breath every time he breathed.

"Please," He's begging, trying so hard to get it out on a raw voice despite the slight twitching. His ability to speak is gonna go in a couple more buzzes, "You'll kill me before you get what you want."

"And lastly, flaw number five," They release Jounouchis hair as they speak, "You beg too much to win anything."

They turn away to leave Jounouchi alone, the button remains on the table, a remote in their hand. The door opens and closes near silently, the lights dim down as if to accommodate for how blown open his pupils are.

His breathing staggers, his heartbeat is palpitating, skipping beats here and there. He wants to bring a hand up to clutch his chest or his neck but the restraints on his wrists remain. All that's left to do is scream out for help or just accept it- and he doesn't exactly want to die to a collar made for dogs if he does scream. So he stays silent, biting his tongue and just letting the situation wash over him even though he wants to wake up any second now and act like this isn't real.

He's heard that trauma dreams can be really fucked up, he wouldn't put it past his brain to concoct this scenario for some reason. But at the same time, pain has never hurt so much in any of his dreams before, it's only been a mild sting if at all. He tries to still the shaking in his form, the static on his clothing, anything to keep himself from just sobbing.

He wants to wake up but he can't and if he could he isn't sure if he would be able to.

#yugioh #yu gi oh #jounouchi katsuya #joey wheeler #katsuya jonouchi #yugioh fanfiction #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #tw torture #tw angst #tw electrocution #tw electro convulsive therapy

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treehousesinfrance · 2 years ago

Text

Love Leaves Traces - Chapter 10

Sirius had never considered himself a poet, much to the dismay of his childhood tutors and mother. It was all too flouncy and ridiculous for his taste, but if he did find himself writing poetry, he thought, he would write it about his Moony. His smile, his laugh, his voice, the way he held a quill and the way he held Sirius’ hand, the thumb rubbing subconscious circles over his knuckles. He would write about his humour, his mind and at the risk of sounding like a sap, his heart.

He was very quickly losing his mind over his best fr- boyfriend. Boyfriend. Merlin, he loved that word.

“Pads, are you even paying attention?” Sirius was shot out of his thoughts by a sharp kick to the shin. Right. Library, study.

“Yeah, Prongs. Mhmm.” James didn’t seem convinced but dutifully paid his full attention to Lily, who was trying to explain electricity to them for their Muggle Studies project.

It was bloody boring, so naturally, his eyes wandered back to Remus. Remus, who was watching Lily, nodded at all the right points and added in his knowledge when it fit. Anyone would have thought he was paying full attention.

Only Sirius felt him hook his foot around Sirius’ ankle below the table. Only Sirius noticed the subtle smile it brought him. He had his little piece of Remus that no one else could see, and greedy as he was, he was determined to keep it for himself.

Their last moon had been their best one yet. The wolf and his three new friends seemed accustomed to each other now, running through the forest gleefully. The wolf had seemed especially enamoured with Padfoot, nipping at his ears playfully and rolling around the dirt with him. Remus woke with little to no injuries, much to Pomfrey’s delight, and was almost fully recovered just a day after the moon. Sirius had stayed by him those quiet hours before sunrise, holding him close, whispering sweet nothings into his ears as Remus drifted in and out of an exhausted sleep.

Dating Remus Lupin was thrilling and exciting. They hadn’t told any of their friends yet. Of course, they knew their friends loved them, but there was always that chance, however minute, that they wouldn’t be accepted. Sirius was so used to keeping secrets at this point, it was almost habitual and he was reluctant into forcing another secret out of Remus and so they decided their relationship would stay private, for a while at least.

“I was going to kiss you that day, you know?”

Remus had dragged Sirius from their dorm to the chilly outskirts of the lake with blankets and thermoses of hot cocoa. The tips of his ears and nose were red with the cold and Sirius found it ridiculously endearing.

“Right here”, Remus continued, “You stayed with me instead of going into the lake with Pete and James and you were looking at me like–”

Remus ran a hand through his hair, shaking it out slightly. Beautiful.

“Like that! Ha! But then they came back and I was sure I’d imagined it.”

It was rare, these moments, where they could just be together and talk openly about their relationship. Without the rushed meetings in hallways or subtle glances with hidden meanings. These moments seemed endless. Eternal.

“You can kiss me now if you’d like” he smiled at him sweetly, tapping his pointer finger against his lips, fighting back a smile. “Right here”.

“You cheeky bugger”

“I mean, honestly, you set yourself up for it didn’t you.”

Remus grinned against his lips and kissed him. They were cold and he tasted like chocolate. He could feel Remus’ hands in his hair, on his hips, pulling him closer. Sirius mirrored him, tugging on Remus’ hair experimentally and Remus let out the most delicious sound, Sirius wanted to consume it.

They pulled away, panting.

“You didn’t imagine it, Rem. I was… feeling things. I’m not really sure I knew at the time, but…”

“But?”

Sirius buried his head in his hands. Merlin, this was mortifying.

“Well, I was kind of freaking out about your freckles. God! How did I not know?”

Remus pried his head from his hands and kissed him on the nose. “My freckles, huh? Who knew that’s what would do it for you.” He was smirking, the teasing bastard.

“Shut up”

“Make me”

They spent the rest of their free period by the lake revelling in the newness of it all. Talking and snogging lazily or dozing with Sirius' head in Remus’ lap with his fingers running through his hair.

It was almost jarring, how quickly they reverted to acting like normal. Less than ten minutes ago Sirius had his tongue inside Remus’ mouth and now all the Marauders were seated on their respective beds discussing prank strategies as though there hadn’t been a monumental shift in their dynamics. Like Sirius wasn’t itching to crawl over to Remus’ bed just to feel his warmth.

He had been doing just that the last few nights. They gravitated toward each other like magnets in the night and fell asleep in each other's arms. Sometimes they made out, but mostly they just talked, getting to know each other in a way they never could just as friends. Prying out small secrets and old wounds, which were quickly healed under gentle touches and soft kisses. It made him feel guilty, but he wished Peter and James would leave them alone for a while so he could enjoy his boyfriend under sunlight, rather than the flickering glow of a fading Lumos .

He would have missed the question entirely if it weren't for Prongs throwing a shoe at him.

“Are those hickeys!?”

Sirius’ hand flew up to his neck where he only just remembered, Remus had his head buried earlier. Against his will, his eyes sought out Remus and he regretted it immediately. The panic he assumed would be reflected in his features was something else entirely. His pupils were blown and he was leaning towards him with a ghost of a smirk on his lips. Possessive. Hungry. Fuck.

“Ahh, no. I fell… earlier.”

“Right, you fell… repeatedly… on your neck?” Peter asked incredulously, “Merlin, who’s the lucky bird?”

“There’s no bird!”, Sirius ignored the snort Remus let out, “I promise, there is no bird! Just, ugh– will you let it be!”

“Nah, no way mate”

“Please, just —Peter! Get off me, don’t touch–! Moony, get him off me!”

Peter was unceremoniously hoisted off of Sirius and plopped onto his bed.

“Whoa, Moony. Look at you and your strong werewolf muscles. C’mere.” Pete pulled at his shirt with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle, which Remus pointedly ignored in making eyes at Sirius. “Someone clearly wants everyone to know you’re taken, huh Sirius”

“Clearly”

“I bet they want to make sure no one else touches you”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and I’ll bet they love you walking around showing off the marks they left on you”

“Oh, wow” Sirius was embarrassed to say he was a little breathless. He had forgotten anyone else was there.

“So if she wants everyone to know you’re hers, then why won't you tell us who she is?” James asked, oblivious as always.

“As I said, there is no girl”

“Ah. Right. No girl”, James said, but shot Sirius a glance that said ‘ you’ll tell me later, right? ’.

“Prongs! I promise you, there is no girl! When have I lied to you, huh?”

“Ohhh I’ll find out Black. Mark my words”

“Okay, Potter. Whatever you say”

James dodged the returning shoe with a grin.

“Well, we are brewing Amortentia tomorrow. I’ll just look for the girl who smells wet dog– ow!”

“I will have you know James Fleamont that I smell amazing!”

James’ response was lost to Sirius because Remus was looking at him again. If he didn’t get him to a broom cupboard in the next 20 seconds, Peter and James would face a great deal of emotional scarring.

He fumbled for an excuse. “I’m gonna go to uhhhhh– Moony?”

“Yup” He popped the ‘p’ and jumped up with surprising vigour for a werewolf so soon after the full. Sirius snatched up the Marauder’s map as he shut the door behind them, dragging his boyfriend (Boyfriend!!) through the quiet corridors and behind a tapestry and into an alcove where he was sure they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Here’s the thing about Remus. To most people, he was quiet, unassuming and studious, but there was so much more to him than that. Only the marauders were privy to his sarcasm and deviousness. His charm and wit. This, however, was something else entirely. The way he took charge, taking the very breath from Sirius, who was more than willing, his back pressed against the cold hard of the stone wall. Sirius let out a choked gasp as Remus latched his teeth onto the freshly bruised skin of his neck and sucked. His head fell back, hitting the wall with a thud, loud in the quiet of the alcove, but for their panting breaths.

“ Gods , Sirius”

His voice was breathless and raspy and Sirius couldn’t help the quiet groan that escaped him. More more more . Remus was trailing slowly lower until he reached the collar of Sirius’ shirt, carefully prying open the top button. Yes yes yes. He worked dutifully, claiming the revealed skin with his teeth as he worked on the second button. Sirius let his eyes drift shut and let himself feel . It was overwhelming. He could feel all the places they touched with alarming sensitivity.

He felt his third button open. Fourth. Then, because Sirius couldn’t catch a break, there it was. That all too familiar fear. The unfortunate truth that that fifth button would reveal. His mother's voice echoed through his head.

Keep them hidden, Sirius.

They’re disgusting.

You’re disgusting.

What will he think?

Suddenly the heat of Remus’ touch felt suffocating, the brush of his lips sending an uncomfortable chill up his spine.

“Moons”

Something in his voice must have sounded off, because Remus stopped immediately, staring up at him, eyes filled with want and concern.

“Siri?” It was barely a whisper.

“Just-”, Merlin, he was so beautiful, “Just kiss me. Please.”

With a look of understanding and a small smile, Remus brought his hands to Sirius’ cheeks, a tender caress and kissed him so softly, like he was delicate. Sirius wanted to cry. His hands made their way to Remus' soft curls and he clung to them as they kissed, a little deeper.

“I’m sorry, Sirius”, he kissed him again, “I never want to make you uncomfortable, do anything you don't want to”

Guilt panged through him. Moony was feeling bad and he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“It’s not that. I want you. I mean, Gods Moon, of course, I do. It’s just–”

“It’s okay” Remus felt down Sirius’ arm, picking up his arm and kissing the inside of his wrist at his pulse, “We can take this as slow as you need.”

Sirius let out a shaky breath, “Thank you”

He would tell him, he really would, but not yet. He wasn’t ready to tell anyone. He couldn’t lose Moony. Not yet. He couldn’t lose Moony. Not ever.

Despite being warned very kindly by James, Sirius who was, as always caught up in his head, was surprised when Slughorn announced their potions assignment. Amortentia. A table of girls at the far end of the classroom were sending him subtle looks. He smiled back at them, feeling very uncomfortable. Did they genuinely think he would smell one of them in his potion? The love of his life, some random girl from Hufflepuff. Not bloody likely.

It did get him thinking though. Who would the love of his life be? The thought of smelling Remus in his potion made him feel a little nauseous like there were bees inside him trying to get out. But the thought of smelling someone else made him immeasurably angry. What if Moony smelt him? What if Moony didn’t smell him?

The boy in question, sat in front of him, was whispering frantically to Lily, who was unsubtly looking over her shoulder between James and Sirius.

“So Jamie, think you’ll smell Evans, then?”

“Pfft. No doubt. Love of my life since I was 11, wasn’t she?” His confidence was infuriating. If he didn’t love him so much, he might have smacked him. “How ‘bout you, Pads? What does your mystery girl smell like?”

“How many times do I have to tell you? There is no mystery girl.” Honestly, this whole thing with the ‘secret girlfriend’ was getting pretty old. As easy as it was to deflect (he didn’t even have to lie), his friends hadn’t even considered that maybe it wasn’t a girl he was seeing. Was it so inconceivable?

Slughorn began his instructions for the potion and every single student, it seemed, was listening to his every word.

As always, he and James had no trouble producing an acceptable potion. With surprisingly few comments about the smell of lilies and a rare pleased nod from Slughorn, they had a cauldron full of a smooth pearlescent liquid emanating a soft vapour, the scent of which would probably send Sirius to the infirmary.

“Go on then, Prongs. Give it a whiff.” James sucked in a shaking breath, and for the first time, Sirius realised he was nervous. He braced himself on the table and leant forward into the smoke. His features relaxed instantly as he breathed in deeply. His eyes closed, his shoulders dropped and the smile that crept its way up his cheeks was downright dopey. Looking utterly sated, he took in another breath and all but moaned. Sirius took that as his cue to drag him by the hair into reality.

He flopped onto his seat in a daze. Whatever he smelt in that cauldron must have been fucking incredible. It took a lot to shut James Potter up.

With a jolt, Sirius realised it was his turn. He was gonna be sick.

“Aaand we’re done.” Lily and Remus had evidently just finished their potion. There was a cloud dancing above their heads. He noticed Remus just in time to catch him leaning over and, oh Merlin he was smelling the love of his life, what if it wasn’t him? Sirius could feel the hold he had on their relationship slipping through his fingers.

Remus’ eyes snapped open with a little gasp. A short thing that left his mouth hanging slightly open and he was looking. Right. At. Sirius.

Sirius scrambled to get a smell of his own cauldron, not daring to look away, and fuck he might as well have Remus’ shirt buried under his nose. He was all there. Like the forbidden forest after a storm and the citrus of his shampoo. Like books and chocolate and freshly washed corduroy. It smelt like his lips tasted and his touch felt and how he looked bathed in sunlight and he stopped thinking for a second, just gazing right at his Remus. The love of his life.

There would be no one else for him, but that didn’t scare him one bit. Because Moony was his everything. Always.

#wolfstar #fan fiction #fanfic #remus x sirius #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #soulmate au #soulmate #soulmates #lgbt #just read it #amortentia

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bluandtherestlesshands · 1 year ago

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Heartstrings

Chapter Twenty One: Righting Wrongs

For Mature Audiences

CW: Violence, toxic Aizen. Mention of miscarriage.

A/n - Please remember that Chisei is pregnant in this fight, though in very early stages. The baby is fine and nothing is done to Chisei within that area.

Chisei stared down the man, holding her bow in her hands firmly. Her brown hair flowed in the breeze against her bare shoulders, fluttering with the white hakama pants. She kept her eyes narrowed, waiting for him to make the first move… And he did.

Aizen shunpo’d himself next to Chisei, lining up a swing with his blade. Shinji shouted, “CHISEI WATCH OUT!”

The woman didn’t even turn as she used Hirenkyaku to dodge the attack, reappearing atop the man’s hand with a single foot keeping her balance. Her knee lined up to knock Aizen directly in the face. The man grabbed at her knee, stopping her in her tracks, he glanced up at her from her legs. “You cannot beat me Chisei.”

”Didn’t ask you.” Chisei huffed at this, and upon her trying to keep his right hand at bay, Aizen threw her back with force. She was thrown back into a building, in the rubble she emerged with the thin reishi veins over her skin. “I’m not giving up!”

”How foolish.” He followed after her, “Are you sure that you wish to endanger our child like this? Do you remember how distraught you were when the first-“

Now Aizen was at a loss for words. As Chisei prepared her shot, a five-petaled pearl cluster sat above the arrow’s tip. She rotated her wrist, lining up the shot and releasing quickly before he could dodge. “Nullpfeil: Blüte.” The shot bloomed outwards into the pronged area attack he had seen before, but spiraled much faster. Aizen guarded with his sword, but as soon as one made contact with the blade began to glow intensely. A light blue blast seemed to engulf an area in front of him, and she stepped out quickly to get a better vantage point. Chisei perched herself on another building while the dust settled, not at all surprised he wasn’t damaged.

”That’s an interesting shot. You designed that item while with me, didn’t you?” Aizen smiled slightly. “Impressive… What were those?”

”Can’t guess? That’s your own fault.” Chisei said, reaching into the pouch hidden in her sash. “I call them Null Kugel. Took advantage of my surroundings…”

The woman splayed out several of these small pearls, then threw them out and littered the air in front of the Soul Reaper. It took a split second to fire a singular shot, only needing to hit one. The bright glow cracked through its casing and exploded, setting off a chain reaction from the other ones around it. She jumped up high above him and prepared some reishi around her foot, slamming a proper kick down on the man standing there in the debris.

”So I see. You’ve harnessed a Cero in these capsules.” Aizen spoke, as the dust settled he grabbed at her calf. “In using these, you can amplify your own abilities, and create more destruction in battle… It’s unfortunate that you decided to use it against me. Otherwise it may have worked in your favor.”

Chisei huffed at the hold on her leg, in her attempt to twist she saw a blade come up and aim for her torso. The clash and the angle had onlookers panicking, thinking the small young Quincy had been hurt…Though Aizen felt his grip soften slightly when those distinct veins were visible on her hands and body, his sword actually in her hand… Until the woman smirked and opened the hand, Blut Vena still protecting her when that light blue glow engulfed the two of them. Her palm was filled with the tiny capsules.

A large explosion surrounded the two, each of them being sent off in different directions. Chisei was launched back onto another rooftop, her body skidding to a stop still smoking. Her bow had long since dissipated. Covered in dirt and debris, the woman slowly looked over her shoulder. Blut Vena still taking its hold, the woman panted and started to look around. This wasn’t good, she was starting to feel sick, but at least… She didn’t see Aizen. She sat herself up, legs sprawled out, clearing her throat to fight the nausea setting in, and she turned back to the group… To Shinji.

The blonde stared down at her incredulously, he couldn’t believe she was still alive… The woman he had been crazy about, turns out she was a bit crazy herself…

It was too early to celebrate.

”Was that the extent of your power?” Aizen appeared beside Chisei, he stood over her while she tried to catch her breath. “I told you that challenging me in your condition was not going to work how you planned.” He slowly stepped over her, his sword still drawn. “Why don’t you admit defeat? If you do so now, I’ll be sure to make your punishment easy.”

Chisei gasped, trying to crawl away from the man. As he got closer the woman grit her teeth. “Stay the hell away from me.” She snapped. “I’m not going to sit beside someone like you while everyone else dies.”

”How unfortunate… I was hoping to raise our child together.” He watched her and brought his sword up, pointed directly into her hip. “It’s the left hip, correct?”

She stared at him as she activated Blut Vena, his sword tip unable to cut through her skin. “Are you trying to kill us both??”

”Not quite.” Aizen kept his grip firm, smiling. “I only plan to stop you from fighting again. That is still my child and I intend to return for you both once it is safe.”

”You’re insane…” Chisei clenched her fists, she was stuck in a stalemate. Maintaining the Blut in order to keep the blade from cutting through, as Aizen kept staring. “I hope they bury you.”

A loud battle cry could be heard, Hiyori launched herself into the fray preparing to attack Aizen. In that same breath, something came through and sliced at the small woman. They forgot about Gin. His sword came close to bifurcating the woman.

”HIYORI!!” Shinji cried out, that small moment being just enough to get Chisei to drop her guard down enough. The next thing Shinji heard was the strangled cry from his former lover. Aizen stabbed through her hip, piercing through her thigh. For an extra measure, the man grabbed onto Chisei’s dominant wrist as if to inspect the cross he used on her. Without missing a beat, there was a loud snap while he broke the bones in her arm.

”B-Bastard…” Chisei panted, forced to look the man in the eyes when he grabbed her chin.

”Don’t worry. These injuries won’t harm our child… I will come to collect you two once everything is prepared.” He leaned down to her level. “It didn’t have to be this way, Chisei.”

Aizen withdrew his sword from her leg, and she cried out again, he watched her with a smile. The woman was wincing and fighting back sobs. He left her there, unable to move, as he turned his attention to the remaining captains and Visoreds he had left to crush in his wake.

Chisei sat there and winced, shielding her injured arm with a cry. Before she knew it, an orange color was beside her. It took her a moment to realize who it was, not really believing it.

”You’re really here…” Shinji looked her up and down, though he tried to avoid staring at her injuries. “Damn- Hold on…” He was careful in trying to lie her back, though when her left leg moved she bit back a scream. “I’m sorry, Doll-“

”Sh-Shinji… I’m sorry…” She managed to say, but he cut her off.

”Don’t apologize, we’ll figure this out. Just- Stay here and-“ Shinji rubbed her shoulder. “Focus on your strength…”

”… If you’re going against him next.” Chisei looked up to him, grabbing his hand with her good one. “There’s one thing I need to say. In case either of us… Can’t, later.”

”Chisei, Doll, what are you saying?”

”Shinji, I love you… I was so close to saying it that night…” She smiled weakly, “Please come back to me after all this….”

”I- C-Chisei, I…” Shinji froze for a second. As she passed out, the man took her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. “Damn it, I love you… To be honest, I was waitin’ for you t’ say it first…” He sighed, “I’ll take care of him… He won’t get away with doing this to you…” The blonde took care to lay down her hand in a way that wouldn’t hurt the other broken limb, he was still in shock over the woman that lay before him. There were so many things he wanted to ask her, what they were, what happened while she was stuck with Aizen… He had been going crazy worrying about her for months, wondering how things could have been done differently that one night… He had another reason now to finish this fight and come out on top.

Shinji stood up, drawing his sword, and approached Aizen to challenge him.

#bleach #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #bleach oc #bleach original character #oc x canon #sosuke aizen #fanfiction #shinji hirako

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sioraiocht · 1 year ago

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"Sirius, you were never going to be able to be there for every moon. As much as I would've liked it to stay the same as it was in Hogwarts, it couldn't." Remus's nose wrinkles slightly. They're heading into dangerous territory in the sense that they'll never find ground to come to agreement on. In his eyes he'll always be a burden. It's not meant to be self-pitying, it's just a reality that he's forced himself to believe. Years of a set mindset are hard to undo. "You've always seen too much good in me." He laughs softly as he takes another drink, swallowing back the emotion that's caught in his chest.

He keeps his foot close to Sirius's, not wanting to move it in case he breaks the moment. He'll take any contact he can get, desperate for the touch of the man he's spent years pining over. It's a cliche, really. He's tried to move on but no-one's ever even come close. "I'm glad they're happy. With everything going on in the world it's nice to see them so in love." He hasn't seen James and Lily in a while. There are letters but they've grown increasingly sporadic. Cordial in nature but with no real depth to them. Remus isn't stupid. He'd been half expecting the trust to fade. Werewolves are allying with Voldemort. He himself is jobless and penniless. Out of everyone he probably has the most to gain by switching sides. He can see why there'd be suspicion. Doesn't make the reality of it any easier to swallow, though. "I - Don't laugh at me but I've taken up knitting. It passes the time." He reaches down for his satchel, rooting around for a moment before pulling out a small bundle, wrapped in a ribbon. "Will you give this to James and Lily for me? It's for Harry. It's just a little hat in the Gryffindor colours. It's not very good and it probably won't keep the chill out but - It's a little piece of Hogwarts for him." He slides it across the table with a half smile. "Next on my list is a scarf for you because I've a feeling you're not wrapping up enough." His expression turns gently teasing before attention returns to their drinks. "Would you like another one? Actually - I'm not taking no for an answer, wait here." He grabs his wallet from his bag, disappearing to the bar to get them more drinks. Thankfully, the place is quiet, he doesn't have to wait too long and returns a few minutes later with more drinks, including two shots of firewhiskey. "One for you -" He slides one to Sirius. "And one for me." He grins as he drops back down into his seat. "Does this make it feel a little bit more like Hogwarts? Remember Prongs used to constantly have a bottle of the stuff in his trunk? I'd swear he thought everything could be fixed by a shot of firewhiskey."

with ease , he meets remus’ extended eye contact . something wicked glitters in his own gaze , daring him to flirt back in this game they play — sirius pushing as much as he can until the moment is broken and he’s left wondering when he’ll have the guts to stop pretending it’s all just a joke to him . teeth digging into his lower lip , he watches remus as long as he’ll dare before the eye contact is broken and his attention returns to his drink , the thud of his heart skipping that little bit faster as he does so .

“ it’s not fine though , is it ? ” he says quietly , a dangerous edge to his tone . he wonders what he might do if he could just get his hands on greyback , how much pain he could hand him in exchange for the years of suffering he’s watched remus fight his way through . “ and you’re not a burden , nor is the wolf . when you gonna remember that ? ” frowning , he kicks playfully at remus’ foot beneath the table , though he allows it to remain there , touching just as much as he will dare . “ you sound like potter’s mum , ” he arches a brow , leaning to rest his cheek in his palm as he watches remus ; closer than they’ve been in months , and never enough . “ i’m . . . place to place . i can’t stay with those two all the time . they’re young , in love , and in desperate need of privacy , ” he lowers his gaze , a small smile tugging on his lips . “ i’ve just been trying to help as much as i can . merlin knows my family have added fuel to the fire so i give back where i can . mostly missing you . and those other two tossers . this was all a lot easier when we were kids . ”

#dementrd #;remus & sirius { dementrd }

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lulublack90 · 4 months ago

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Prompt 24 - Skeleton

@wolfstarmicrofic October 24, word count 487

“Can’t we do something to clean this place up a bit? I swear I can feel the dust clinging to me,” Sirius said, pulling a face in disgust at the almost derelict shack. “I mean, come on, there’s a rat skeleton over there, for Merlin’s sake.” He pointed at the corner of the room.

“Shut up, Sirius!” Peter squeaked at him, a visible shiver running through him at the mention of the dead rat.

“We can’t, Pads. If we do, Pomfrey and McGonagall will know something’s up. We have to leave the shack exactly as we found it.” James told him, resting a hand on his shoulder.

A foot scuffing on the tunnel floor alerted them to Remus’s arrival. Quickly, they all hid under James’s invisibility cloak as Madam Pomfrey led Remus into the shack.

“I’ll be back at sunrise, dear. Do try not to scratch yourself too badly,” She said softly, her hand cupping Remus’s cheek for a second before she turned to leave. Her eyes were full of pity when she looked back at the lanky boy she was leaving to transform into a fearsome werewolf.

As soon as she was gone, they threw the cloak off. Sirius raced forward and wrapped his arms around Remus’s waist.

“You ready, Moony?” He asked, gazing up at the tall boy. It was going to be their first moon together as they’d only just figured out how to become animagi. Tonight would be their first test to see if the wolf would be a danger to them in their animal forms.

“No, but I never am,” Remus smiled at him, but it turned into a pained expression as a shooting pain shot through him. “You need to change,” He told them hurriedly, his eyes more golden than Sirius had ever seen them. Sirius, James and Peter transformed just as Remus dropped heavily to the floor.

He writhed in pain, rolling and shrieking across the dust-clogged rug. Padfoot whined, unable to help his friend. The dog winced every time one of Remus’s bones snapped as his entire body reshaped itself to release the wild animal within.

Eventually, the room went silent, and where Remus had been was now a gleaming silver wolf. It growled low in its chest as it became aware of its surroundings. Padfoot walked towards the wolf. Prongs snorted and pawed the ground, trying to get his attention, but Padfoot ignored it. The wolf, Moony, was still growling at him, hackles raised and teeth bared.

Sirius flopped down onto the rug in front of Moony, a cloud of dust rising into the already dusty air, and rolled onto his back. Moony stopped growling and sniffed the dog. He must have liked what he smelled as, within seconds, the wolf and the dog were chasing each other around the room playfully. That night was the first night that Moony didn’t hurt himself, much to Madam Pomfrey’s delight.

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nifflersfancy · 6 years ago

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Requests open!

Hello! I am just starting a one-shot account for the Harry Potter fandom! I’ve never done anything like this before so I’m not really sure what to do. This is my first time writing one-shots so go easy on me.

I am beginning a Jily oneshot but I am open to requests and/or tips! I’m willing to give any ship a go :)

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unlust-fvck · 3 years ago

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hii! could you please write poly!marauders x clumsy!reader? and it’s with the boys being casual dominant (yk what i mean) i hope this makes sense and please tell me if it’s not specific enough🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

fireworks || poly!marauders x reader

word count; 701

pairing; remus lupin x sirius black x james potter x gender neutral reader

description; maybe being clumsy wasn’t so bad

warnings; established relationship, suggestive comment, clumsy!reader, annoyed!remus, james and sirius are literal children

a/n; LOVED this request

“oi fuck!” you hissed in pain as your hip bumped into the corner of the book case.

“bloody hell love,” james snickered as he came to your aid almost immediately, steadying you with his hands on your shoulders. you rolled your eyes and playfully shoved him off you.

he gasped in fake pain and clutched his heart. “help, im wounded!” he whimpered.

in almost an instant, remus was peering out of his bed curtains, sirius close behind.

“again? really?” remus asked, eyes narrowing at james in annoyance. “we’re trying to sleep dick head.” he added. james eyed sirius behind him, who was shirtless.

“i don’t really think there’s a lot of sleeping going on moony.” he tossed over his shoulder with a shrug as he pattered off to the washroom. remus sighed in annoyance and pinched the bridge of his nose. “i hate all of you.” he remarked as he closed the curtain to his bed.

“oi!” you called, ripping the curtain back open. “th’hell did i do?” you said, faux anger lacing your voice. remus just looked at you, sirius dozing off beside him.

“you wounded prongs.” he said with a careless shrug, disturbing sirius who punched him weakly in the ribs. you chuckled and bent over to peck sirius’ forehead. he smiled up at you sleepily.

just as you were about to peck remus’, you were pulled down into the bed lightly by the latter, but fell harder than you should’ve. you accidentally hit sirius’s face in the process.

“you are so uncoordinated!” he hissed, but smiled dopily as he rubbed his face. “m’sorry!” you said quickly as you pulled yourself together and sat at the edge of the bed cautiously.

it was a staring game in comfortable silence before remus spoke up, “s’alright pup, y’just need to be careful alright?” he said gently as he patted the spot between him and sirius.

with as much delicacy as you could muster, you plopped down between them and rested your head on sirius’ shoulder. he grinned and pecked your temple, his hand resting on your thigh. remus wrapped an arm around your waist and opened his book, skimming through.

it was silent for a moment, then in came james like a bat out of hell. he jumped on the foot of the bed without opening the curtains and sirius shot up.

“christ prongs! at least a warning!” sirius said in a high pitched tone.

james giggled and laid his head on remus’ shins, looking up at you. “s’alright, prongslet can’t be the only clumsy one!” he smiled.

“will you stop calling them that?” remus sighed, annoyed. your face buzzed with admiration and it was evident too. “oh c’mon, they’re ours too.” sirius said as he shoved james.

then it started again.

sirius and james began shoving each other, not only disrupting you, but remus as well. he tossed his book aside and scooped you up before you could protest. he moved over to sirius’ bed and closed the curtains, still holding you. you smiled up at him and he couldn’t help but follow suit. “they’re so annoying.” he said with a small chuckle as he rubbed your frame.

you nodded slowly, “i still love them though.” you giggled quietly as you finally broke eye contact, twirling a misbehaved strand of hair around your finger. “well i hope you do bunny.” he smiled, pecking your temple. you nodded and just as you were about to respond, james and sirius came barreling into the bed.

remus sighed and looked up at them, “what now?” he asked. sirius shook his head with a grin, “just wanna see you guys. promise we’ll behave.” he said as he sat cross-legged on the edge of the bed. james scooted up beside remus in no time and took you from his hold. he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and kissed your lips gently.

as you reciprocated, you remembered how you used to never believe it when people would say that they’d feel butterflies or fireworks in instances like this, but your boyfriends had definitely changed that.

#jays fics !!#poly marauders x reader #poly marauders #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #poly marauders fic #fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 2 years ago

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First Blood

https://www.patreon.com/empyreaniris?fan_landing=true

https://starr-fall-knight-rise.tumblr.com/post/182501791735/master-post

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jzEIdDAB4omdO2JcQVMObfrhLJ5kX4ONmSsLypM1ks0/edit?usp=sharing

Their mission had failed. What little hope there had been was gone as their slim opportunity slammed shut before them like a steel barred door now welded shut. The slap Lanus had given his once-lover wasn’t devastating, in fact, by Drev standards it was more of a warning shot, but now something that might have been foreplay in a previous life was the starting gun on a war to end all wars.

A war to end the Universe.

Noctus reacted first, but predictably it wasn’t to join in the fight. The little coward turned on the spot and sprinted straight back into the blackened bowels of the deserted space station, vanishing into the darkness before anyone else had so much as lifted their weapons.

WIth Kazna still partially stunned, it was Everett who actually made the first move, lunging forward towards lanus, bare hands open like talons seeking to tear Lanus’s eyes from his skull. Still shocked by what he had done, Lanus was slow to react, but by then Adam and Sunny had already begun moving.

Adam stepped in front of Lanus, spear raised to block the incoming attack.

Sunny, trusting Adam to take care of everything else, went straight for Kazna. Didn’t matter that she was stunned, on the floor or otherwise. Drev code of conduct be damned, she was willing to break it if it meant saving the universe.

She thrust her spear downward, aimed at the junction of kazna’s skull and neck, and missed last second as Kazna threw herself to the side. Still she didn’t manage to escape fully, the point of Sunny’s spear driving itself into the meaty junction between Kazna’s neck and shoulder.

Kazna screamed, but that particular area on a Drev is solid with muscle, and partially protected by carapace. The hit was solid, but not debilitating, and as Kazna jerked herself away, a spurt of orange blood was left in her place dripping from Sunny’s spear, though she was not deterred, priming herself for another thrust at her mother’s head.

Kazna was still a warrior, however, and the three pronged trident was back in her hand in a matter of moments, catching Sunny’s spear by the haft as it arched down towards her face. She then used her superior strength to throw Sunny back, saving herself just enough space to rise to her feet..

Though she had been thrown back, Sunny had not lost her balance, and came in with a second attack just as Kazna was regaining her footing. Kazna was larger, and much stronger by simple muscle mass alone, but there was a downside to being so big.

Takes more energy, and more time to moving something that tall.

Closer to the ground, getting up would have been much easier for Sunny or Adam, but as big as she was, Kazna took some time to regain her feet. That left just enough of an opening for Sunny, who initiated a sharp flurry of attacks, each one precise in their execution to the point where Kazna Almost seemed surprised, She raised her trident in a desperate attempt to fend of the whirlwind that was Sunny’s weapon, but even she was only just able to avoid death blood spattering in shallow arcs as the tip of Sunny’s spear scored a hit across Kazna’s upper cheek, and across the back of her upper left hand.

But now Kazna was on her feet, and more than willing to use the height advantage against her opponent.

In a contest of martial weapons, the larger person has the advantage of strength. In many instances contests of strength win out with the bigger on top due to sheer brute force. The only counter for smaller stature against sheer brute force is….. Skill.

Enough skill may level an unfair playing field, and it became very clear in those next few moments who was the better fighter.

Kazna had not been to real battle in years at this point, almost half a decade or more.

Ever since the Drev war she had spent most of her time, plotting, scheming, politicking, in jail, or as a mouthpiece for the void. Long gone were the days where she had headed armies and called legions to her feet. The innate skill and talent was still there, old muscle memory taking over from a life spent with a weapon in hand.

But it wasn’t good enough.

Not good enough when matched against skill honed by years of hard work from a soldier who had been fighting almost continually for the past decade, trained by the greatest military master of their generation, and versed in the arts of many exotic fighting styles not native to the Drev Homeland.

When this conflict had started, Sunny was below average on combat performance, burdened by doubt, and held back by her perceived shortcomings. But years of continued extensive training was enough to turn a warrior of no great talent, into the greatest warrior of a generation.

Kazna swung her weapon, but by the time the blood would have landed, Sunny was gone. Using the environment around her Sunny, dove forward, skidding alone the deck upon the smooth carapace of her knees, skidding right under Kazna’s arms and straight into her guard.

Sunny attacked her legs first, swiping at the tendons at the back of her heels, a move she had pulled once before. Perhaps if she had been equipped with two swords instead of her traditional spear the move might have gone without a hitch, but the awkward length of the spar was too much in the tight space. Even so she scored a sharp hit on Kazna’s leg forcing her briefly to one knee

Her golden eyes burned with an intense focus.

Kazna, unable to manuver within an enclosed space, made the decision to drop her trident, whipping two daggers concealed from the inside of her cloak. Both low glanced off of Sunny’s SE armor to her noticeable surprise, but a third, surprise blow cuffed her briefly around the side of the head.

Even so it seemed sunny was only moments away from driving a weapon through her mother’s heart when, a long, low bellow echoed up from the bowels of the ship. The sound was deep, haunting, strangely human but just inhuman enough to cause an eruption of goosebumps to appear on every human in the room.

It seemed Noctus had been busy.

The surprise didn’t phase Sunny for more than a moment,, but a moment was all Kazna needed to throw Sunny back scrambling back to regain her own feet as Sunny snarled and readied herself to come again. Before she could do so, Kazna held out a hand and jabbed it straight towards Sunny, “She is yours to devour, feeder.”

Everyone in the room would have liked not knowing what that meant, but were soon graced by the terrible image of a fleshy writhing monster, that crawled its way out of the black hallway and into dim luminance.

Apollyon’s little side project.

A creation in his own image, cobbled together from spare human parts.

Descriptions of the eldritch abomination defied reason, its body so confusing it was difficult to look at much less fight.

As Sunny and Kazna had dueled, others around the room had erupted into movement. Adam and Lanus were locked into combat with Everette, whose shadowed companion spurted out from his skin as if the man had sprung a leak. Adham was busy annihilating the rest of the Void sided makers,.

On the other side of the room Ramirez and Renegade stood at odds with the seen, completely still, staring at each other.

“Follower’s of Apollyon, RISE.” Kazna shouted

Adam keyed his mic as Fielty opened a broad signal to all friendly ships through the Empyrean, “Apollyon is GO.”

He needed not say anymore, throwing himself back into the fray with lanus. Just as more of those eldrich abominations came spilling into the room. Renegade and Ramirez were forced to break away as the room was flooded with Chaos. Sunny vanished behind a tide of flesh, still going after kazna.

For a moment Adam thought they would be overwhelmed until he found himself pressed back to back with Lanus.

“Duck!” The drev shouted, and Adam did as told just as his father-in-law’s spear whistled over his head, catching a meat appendage as it reached for them. It was odd just how familiar fighting with Lanus felt, like Sunny just…. Taller. Adam grabbed Lanus by the ceremonial scarred slits in the back of his carapace just as the Drev took a rapid turn. Adam used that momentum to take out two inhuman humanoids that came spiling out of the black hallway.

Landing back on his feet, Lanus thrust his spear forward, straight into the body of one of the abominations, and Adam took care of another creature that tried for Lanus’s open back.

They were overwhelmed, “Everyone, we have to go.”

Sunny snarled in response but Kazna had retreated behind a line of meat leaving Sunny to fend of attack after attack as multiple meat appendages shot out to try for her neck.

Together they backed away towards the shuttle.

Adam and Lanuz made it there first holding off a semicircle of open ground around the shuttle as the others fought towards them. Lanus ducked and Adam rolled over the big Drev’s back, landing on the other side of him just in time to deflect a weapon, glowing orange headed towards Lanus’s flesh,

A void weapon sure to cause irreparable damage to the soul itself.

Lanus turned and again Adam found himself back to back wit hSunny’s father.

It was a good fight, and a brief pang of guilt washed through him to the point he couldn’t help it was the words blurted from his mouth, “I’m sorry.”

They spun in a tight circle, Lanus taking on the big meat creature while Adam took care of the humanoids, “Sorry for what?” Lanus said.

“Sorry for…. You know… killing you.”

There was no unawkward way to say that.

Lanus Gave him a very brief look of amusement before turning back to the fight, “I am not sorry.”

Adam thrust his spear sharply forward, Under Lanus’s arm and impaling a smaller creature that had gotten inside his guard, “I mean, maye, but I sort of feel like this entire thing might have been my fault.”

Lanus huffed a sharp burst of air, “You did not control Kazna’s actions. Her transgression was her own.”

“Oh…. well uh. Cool. Glad we are squared away.”

Lanus hummed in amusement even as he stepped back to avoid another swiping claw.

Ramirez was the first to show, sprinting from a churning wall of meat and diving into the open space between them.

“Start the shuttle! Adam ordered, and ramirez nodded, his lips pursed tight together, a trickle of blood running down his cheek as he slammed his button into the door controls and vanished inside the shuttle.

No need to wait for the Makers, they would make it out just fine on their own.

It was Sunny he was worried about, worried that she wouldn’t make it back.

But just as he was beginning to think the worst, both she and Adham came sprinting out of the churning mass.

“Your man” Adam shouted to Adham

But the Maker shook his head, “They got him.”

Sunny dove onto the ship, as the engines started up.

Lanus grabbed adam by one arm, swinging him in a tight arc. Adam’s armored leg was enough to deter unwanted followers as Lanus hauled them both back into the shuttle tripping over the lip and onto his back just as the shuttle door closed and Ramirez fired the engines. The ride was bumpy for a moment as they shot backward, over the bodies of several abominations and then out through the airlock energy barrier. Adam lay on his back next to lanus, also panting with exertion.

After a few puffing breaths Adam turned to look at his father in law, “Do you want to see them?”

Lanus turned his head tto look at Adam brows furrowed, “See who?”

Adam didn’t wait for an invitation, instead turning on the small Holoprojector on his wrist, “Your grandkids! This is Kay, isnt he adorable, and that is Nyx and that is Astra, loot how cute!”

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