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mewdas · 2 months ago

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mdni siren!gojo fucking u full, breeding mention, horror themes, fluffy near the end, blood + wound play (mild), he’s feral stop booing me . 2nd instalment of my jjk monster men series

black, wet and.. cold, so cold, an endless inky blot your ship sat minuscule on, blurry and hazy in a way that made it hard to tell if you were awake or dreaming — fuck, the sting.. that poorly timed cut on your arm kept nagging for attention in the bleak saltwater. it was impossible to decipher exactly which part was on you and when; heavy, suffocating pressure in— no, on your chest, weighing you down or.. latched on, or all at once. teeth in your neck, webbed fingers clinging so hard - wet against wet, you swore you were rapidly bruising every which way. you could tell you were being moved at least, roughly, then soft then back again, a flash of white hair every so often in your bleary vision, half-lidded blue eyes danced with lust and a primal need to consume that peered into your own.

this wasn’t how you envisioned your ships voyage into the uncharted expanse of the great sea, the ‘unknown’, said to be festering with beast and outcasts alike - where the pirates in those endless legends resided; longhook, greybeard, ‘the butcher’, it was a thrill - for someone as adventure hungry as you and your small crew, at least.

you were determined to make a name for yourself; once the ‘dock rats’ of the pirate world, offering to clean up other crews vessels for coin, help haul in a large full fishing net or to keep the gulls away while your temporary bosses ate — mundane, boring. this wasn’t what you were made for, not in the slightest. that’s what your ma used to tell you, too.

at the first whiff of prospect on the salty breeze, you hired up the finest boat — well, perhaps not the finest. it was lined with barnacles and barely had enough space below deck to swing a cat, let alone store the things they’d actually need for the voyage. though you were always remaining undeterred, it was perfect, in your eyes. sure, the sail was a little ragged, or maybe an oar was missing a chunk or.. two — but it was yours! the vessel that’d carry you and your three-man crew into uncharted territory, to finally document the unknown, to prove yourself, to show the world you weren’t just lowly deck-scrubbers or gull-scarers!

really, the problems that arose nearly off the bat should’ve deterred you. ever stubborn, though. they were plentiful and came in swarms, overwhelming being an understatement. before you had even made it past the fabled ‘current of bones’, said to be so strong it sank even the greatest vessels — likely why most went around — you had sprung a leak below deck, one of your men near breaking his ankle rushing to plug it up and bucket the water out post haste.

okay, a minor hiccup..

whether it was leaks, gulls stealing most of your lunches, or that dark shape below the murky waves your men ‘swore they saw’, this whole thing was a far bigger challenge than you had first anticipated, and a good nights rest was well overdue. or, as well a rest you could get on this little wooden buoy you had cashed out on.. all swaying and rocking even with the anchor dropped.

god, nobody tells you how hard and sickening the waves get, or how… creepy the ocean at night really is.

the gentle snores of your crew, settled like sardines shoulder-to-shoulder below deck, was the only thing that accompanied the gentle brush of saltwater against your ships hull - with you propped up above deck, elbows rested on the side as you looked out over the empty expanse. judging by the map you kept rolled in your belt, you were a couple hundred nautical miles from the nearest—

what was that?

everything stops in your mind - frozen still as you wait, wait ever so patiently just to see if that sound you thought you heard is something real. and you fucking hope not, because it was scary, unknown, all.. garbled and almost human, but not quite.

who are you kidding..?

you ease a fraction, palming the stray trickle of sweat from your temple. just the waves. you’ve been out here a bit on the water, couple days now, you’re just.. antsy, it’s fine.

and then you tense again, the colour you swear draining from your face. there it is again, that sound, that.. song? it’s eerily familiar, akin to something you’re sure is from your childhood, perhaps.. something your mother once sang to you as she rocked your little warm form in her arms. but of course, your mother isn’t out here. nobody is supposed to be out here, not like this.

a sudden nudge of the boat startles you from your shock, prone and short of breath when your white-knuckled grip finds the edge of the ship, you’re frantic, senseless as you scan the black depths, even blacker below the soft moons reign. fuck, fuck, there’s nothing - you can’t see anything so there’s nothing. it’s fine and—

and the boat rocks again. it’s a wonder how your men haven’t woken yet. god how you wish they would - how you’d be much braver with them rallied by your side to rid this sea.. thing from your vessel, how you’d all cheer and toss up hefty mugs of too-strong rum in celebration once safe.

but they don’t. they don’t even stir, and you can’t bring yourself to scamper below deck and let this thing just circle without your eyes on it, which is what you think it’s doing. oh— a flash of white beneath the dark, so brief you almost twist yourself up trying to follow it with your head.

and then, you see it. god, you see it. and it’s beautiful, yet so frightening you can feel your pulse hammer away in your throat at the sight of it. two piercingly blue eyes locked onto yours, swirling with mirth and something you don’t dare think about too hard - reflective and deeply intense in the face of the moon. it looks.. almost man, with such a large mass you can only imagine, partially blurred away beneath the endless depths, all white shimmering scales and blue spots. his long strikingly white hair lay slithering down his back in mindless ways, wet and slicking past his finned, webbed ears.

you’re not even sure how long you’ve just been staring at eachother, but you faintly recognise it getting closer, just gradually, and it sets you on edge - really it does, the water giving way for its hulking form. in that maw, now that it’s nearer, you can see delicate pink lips, long white clusters of lash bordering those beautiful blues, glinting jagged teeth hidden away. the blue spots, you make out, are much akin to eyes.. though seem to function quite the same as a tigers markings would — evolved to intimidate and frighten.

the large form is lunging into the side of the ship again, thrashing its tail unabashedly into the side, sending you clinging to the side - fuck! you barely register the searing pain of a gash up your arm as you’re sent dangling off the side, scrabbling to keep yourself out of the depths, away from that. must’ve caught it on one of the barnacles off the side.. shit.

there’s a sudden rush of water, you can feel the entire boat sway with the force of the wave alone, and it’s enough to make your already white-knuckled grip release the wooden side, the sheer temperature drop of the water sucking away your breath before anything else does, like a jolt of lightning through you.

it takes the freezing water to draw your frantic eyes to the blood muddying the water around you - and you only get a fraction of a second to let your mind catch up before the beast is all over you, two large scaled arms finding your shoulders to slam you unceremoniously into the side of your own ship, which groans and creaks in protest.

“not fair.” he’s seething out through jagged teeth and lips that don’t quite seem used to speaking, forget the common language. his breath warm against your ear when he leans in, allowing long, forked tongue up against your ear, ghosting. “naughty.”

you can barely hear him, head spinning and bleary - not to mention the fact he’s speaking to you. your breath is coming in quick gasps, and you can’t help the pathetic little pained sound that spills from your lips when his webbed fingers find your wrist, yanking it up to his pale scaled face to get a long, languid sniff, burying his face into the gash, lapping away at the blood and marking like his life depends on it.

you’re all ow! and wait! but there’s a dark, wavering little part deep in your gut that’s thrilled, brimming with excitement at not only the contact but the discovery!

—fuck! his tongue against your lips quickly snaps you from your thought - and you realise you can soak in the rays of accomplishment later. if this siren allows you a ‘later.’

he has you pinned firm, the jagged wood pressing into your soaked back a painful sting, the odd barnacle snagging your elbow or ankle as you wriggle. the siren, satoru he says his name is between desperate ‘kisses’ — really just him shoving his long tongue past your lips and down your throat — a fact you just barely hold on to, too distracted by the insistent hump of what you can only assume to be his arousal up against your thigh.

“wait, just— mnh-“ you’re spluttering out, body yielding entirely subconsciously, your quivering fingers finding solace on his shoulders, arms slung around his gilled neck like you would a lover, pulling him close in your grasp. god, you feel utterly drunk off his scent, his song, all you can think about is him.

this seems to strike a pleased chord in satoru, grinning a flash of jagged teeth as he releases your shoulders, his sides huffing and second set of gills beneath his ribs allowing him to pant desperately into your warm skin as he pries your legs apart, drooling openly down your already ocean-soaked collarbone. “let me.. in..” he’s hissing into your ear, webbed fingers pointedly finding your clit with an accuracy that startles you.

“oh..” you whine, incessantly rolling your hips into his touch, entirely drowning out the chill of the water around you, or your crew asleep on the other side of the hull as you wrap your legs around his hips, duly noting the thick muscle replacing his legs below his waist, the long finned tail he’s partially using to keep you pinned without his hands.

it’s all you can do to keep yourself spilling into his hand at the chaste little strokes of your clit alone, pulling him so close you can smell the faint waft of fish and blood on him - not that it matters when he’s nudging his pointed tip against your slick slit, growling and huffing like an animal gone wild, seeking the give of your hole - which finally yields with a lewd shlick, your eyes snapping wide when he’s hilted to the base inside your willing cunt, a satisfied little trill of his own sounding into your hair when he sees himself bulging out of your stomach.

satoru can’t keep his attention off the gash up your arm long, nudging and huffing the coppery scent as he ruts his hips up into yours, smooth penis leaking copious amounts of arousal that coat your gummy walls with each push, his claws digging in when he feels you flutter and squeeze along his length. “take.. “ he mumbles into your wound, blood streaking his stark white face, intensely watching yours as it twists and slacks with pleasure all at once.

judging by the strangled choke you give whenever he angles his hips in that specific way, pointed tip seeking out your spongy g-spot like a missile, knocking it again and again and again until you’re mindless on his cock, head tipped so helplessly into the back of the hull, back arching up into him like his dick was a lifeline and you were drowning. “oh- please-!”

and christ he’s cumming just as you are, claws drawing angry marks down your soft back, teeth sank into your neck with a feral choke, growling heavily through the blood seeping onto his tongue like syrup, his hips stuttering into your cunt as each heavy spurt of velvety heat finds sanction deep in your greedy womb - sending your eyes rolling.

it feels like forever until he’s sated, finally pulling away with a pleased chuff, big blue eyes searching your face desperately, as if seeking approval - the hungry, wild look in them replaced with an almost fond little glint as he thumbs away some blood from your chin, a wide grin spread over his face.

“you.. carry pups, mine.” satoru nods eagerly, palming hair from your eyes as he lofts you out of the water by your armpits, holding your spent form up like a prize won from a carnival game.

“…the fuck?” you hear from above you, the distinctive voice of one of your men, laced with disbelief. oops?

— ⚓️

holding him up by the scruff like a dog to show all of u . planning to do more fics on siren gojo i’ll be honest . i’ll say it . my friends gave me some real cool ideas and they’re sssoo super cute,, stay tuned

#mewdas #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut

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k-nayee · 7 months ago

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Wife to the Winds Epic: The Musical | ii

wc: 3.5k a/n: yeah I'm sorry y'all. I'm, a slow updater/editor. But I'm getting faster and better! Here's the animation for this part

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ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

recap

"You truly believe you can ensure my safe passage home? After everything?"

"With all my heart..."

The salty tang of the sea clung to your hair as you followed Odysseus back to the creaking ships. The satchel against your hip jostled with every step, containing all of your life ever since the ambush of your village.

Midway through readying the ship for their long-awaited return, the men around fell silent as Odysseus approached.

Murmurs rippled through the crew as they watched their battle-scarred leader approach, a stranger by his side.

Reaching the center of the gathered crowd, Odysseus raised a hand for silence. A hush fell over, their gazes flitting between you and their captain.

"This one!" he boomed, aura carrying the authority of a seasoned leader, "is under my is under my protection. Do not lay hand upon her, show her the respect you may give to me."

Glances flicker towards you and stare intently, their faces etched with curiosity and a hint of something...more.

What it could be? You don't know, but you refuse to show it. Even riddled with fear and wary, you held your head high, posture radiating confidence.

That's when the whispers reached your ears: "A goddess, perhaps?" one muttered. "Sent to test us," another added, a hint of reverence lacing his voice.

'Wait...what?' You blink at this. Looking closer, you realize they are staring at you in awe, not lust.

You steal a peek at Odysseus, but his face remained impassive, any amusement he might've felt hidden.

'A goddess huh?' Your lips twitch, a snort of disbelief threating to escape your lips. Seems Odysseus initial shock towards you wasn't a one man reaction.

"Men!" attention is brought once more to the King of Ithaca.

"We have weathered storms. We have battled and sacrificed. Yet, victory lies within reach. Today," he brings a fist up to the heavens. "we begin our journey home!"

Cheers erupted from them, collective roars of relief and anticipation.

The rest of the day was a blur of activity: sails unfurled, oars readied for rowing—image of home ever the motivator.

Days bled into weeks, the endless blue horizon and rocking of the ship becoming your new normal.

The crew remained wary, interactions limited to curt greetings and exchanges. Your only solace came from occasional conversations with Odysseus and surprisingly, both Eurylochus and Polites.

Speaking of which, a tense discussion was brewing near the stern. Eurylochus, his weathered face etched with worry, was locked in a heated debate with the king.

"Six hundred mouths to feed," Eurylochus stressed, frustration coloring his voice, "and our supplies are dwindling! We may not make it far, we are running on fumes!"

Polites, ever the diplomat, step forth in hopes of calming the second in command. "We'll find a way, Eurylochus. Odysseus is a resourceful man—"

"Look!" Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by Odysseus himself, his gaze fixed on the sky.

You follow his line of sight, spotting a flurry of birds flying into the distance. Your brow raise at that, catching on to his proposal.

"We watch where they go, and there we will hunt for food." Giving a firm nod, Eurylochus began giving new orders.

════════════════*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═════════════════

Hours had pass, soon the Sun going down leaving the stars and moon as your only source of light.

"Captain!" Polities' cry breaks you out of your daily/night inventory checkup. "There in the distance: I see a light faintly glowing."

You quickly stuff everything back into your bag, rushing over to stand next to the Greek warrior and see for yourself.

He turns and gives you a bright grin, lightly bouncing on his feet. "Maybe it's a village lighting a fire? Who knows! They might even share some food."

"No." Odysseus shakes his head. "No, somethings not right. I see fire...but there's no smoke."

Eurylochus scoffed. "Let's raid the place and be done with it!" he barked, his hunger overriding caution.

Odysseus narrowed his eyes. "No," he countered, his voice firm. "There must be another way, one that doesn't involve bloodshed."

"Captain you can't be serious, we don't know of the danger's ahead! A—"

"Just!...just give me until sunrise," Taking a glance at the awaiting crew, his voice lower in attempt to quell their bloodthirst knowing just speaking of potential fighting would set them off. "And if we don't return, burn this place to the ground."

Odysseus turns to Polities, gesturing towards the approaching island. "Polites, gear up. We'll scout ahead."

"Yes sir!"

"I'm coming with you!"

The mortal king's head snapped towards you, frown creasing his brow. "Absolutely not."

Your voice rose in protest. "B-but I can help! I'm a fast learner. My skills..."

"There will be no debate," he states, voice leaving no room for argument. "The men are weary. They need their rest. You will stay and watch over little Ajax."

Anger welled in your chest as your teeth gritted. You storm off, the sting of rejection burning in your eyes.

Being reduced to babysitting(once again) felt like an insult to your abilities. You couldn't help but pout in disappointment as you watch the two sail step off the ship, crossing your arms with a glare.

The rest of the night crawled by, the time made longer from your simmering resentment.

It was sunrise when Odysseus and Polities returned, their faces were painted with apprehension.

"We've been told of a cave with food in the east!" he said "enough to last us on our journey back to Ithaca, even extra to spare."

You perk up at the news as men were called to arms. Pushing your way into the forming group, you stand before Odysseus who releases a heavy sigh upon seeing your wide grin.

"Perhaps I can help assess the situation? My knowledge of—"

"We have enough help," he holds up a hand, silencing you with narrowed eyes. "You stay here with Ajax. Guard duty."

You bite your tongue to keep your anger from saying something disrespectful.

Taking a deep breath, you clasp your hands in a pleading motion. "Please. Just let me help. I-I can gather herbs, o-or even tend wounds..."

"There'll be no wounds," Odysseus says curtly. "We'll be in and out, quick and quiet."

And with that, he and his newly gathered group of men began venturing east in search of food.

Though your fists clenched in fury, you knew better than to disobey Odysseus directly. Instead, you waited, a plan forming in your mind.

It was then upon spotting the ever-cautious Ithacan Eurylochus right as he prepares to leave and catch up with the main group, an idea sparks.

You quickly approach him in determined strides. "Eurylochus, there isn't any proper medical supplies on board. I'm sure the men will gain injuries on their quest for food. And for that, I will need to go and get more herbs."

Eurylochus barely glanced in your direction, more focused on ensuring his weapons are tied on correctly as he gives a dry chuckle. "Injuries huh? I'm sure medicine won't be needed for a little wound."

"You sure about that?" Offput at the chilly tone of your voice, he looks up only to be taken aback at the emptiness of your gaze. "Even the mightiest of warriors have fallen, crossing the River Styx from a mere scrape."

A tremor of unease ran through Eurylochus. He cleared his throat, the bravado gone

"Alright," he conceded, "but if anything goes wrong..."

"There won't be anything wrong!" you assured him quickly, smile bright and innocent as if you hadn't just traumatized this man.

Gesturing two nearby men to come over, Eurylochus gives you one final look. "Now, I'm trusting you to get what you need and get out. This is Lycus and Alexander; they will watch over you, so stay close. Understood?"

You bobbed your head enthusiastically, already launching into a flurry of excited instructions for your temporary bodyguards.

Eurylochus couldn't help but shake his head and sigh as he turned to leave. "Gods...Odysseus is gonna kill me..."

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The moment your feet touched the shore, a thrill shot through you. The air hummed with an unfamiliar energy, and the vibrant foliage swaying in the gentle breeze.

Years of training under your mother's watchful eye kicked in: You recognized the landscape instantly—the lush vegetation, the specific types of trees—everything she taught echoing in your mind.

Unlike Odysseus and his men trampling path, or the impatient stomping of your guards, you carefully navigated the undergrowth with practiced grace; steps light and sure.

Awe filled you as you surveyed the diverse flora. You stopped every so often, meticulously collecting samples in your satchel, murmuring a silent thank you with each pluck.

A memory flickered from your childhood's countless foraging trips; your mother kneeling beside you in a sun-dappled meadow as her hand gently guides yours. "Plants are lives of their own...they are deserving of respect, as would any other being."

Too caught up in reminiscing the past, you miss it when your small group stumbled into a clearing.

It wasn't until you noticed the men behind you stopping themselves did you pay attention to your surroundings.

There, in the center of the area was a group of figures. Their faces were serene, eyes filled with an otherworldly light.

You couldn't help but look at them in awe, tales heard over the years could never measure up to the—

The sound of drawn weapons snap you out of it.

"W-wait!" you cry, darting forward and placing yourself between the armed men and the peaceful Lotus-eaters. "Lower your weapons! They mean no harm."

Lycus, a gruff soldier with a gnarly scar on his cheek to match, scoffs. "They could be a threat, best get rid of them while we can" he grumbles, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword.

Undeterred, you squared your shoulders and met his gaze.

"And as I said, they mean no harm. Pose no danger Look at them!" You gestured towards the Lotus-eaters, some of whom were staring at you with wide-eyes, others seemingly lost in a blissful daydream. "They wouldn't hurt a fly."

A tense silence hung in the air. The men exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of how to react.

You pressed further, lowering your voice conspiratorially. "Besides. I'm not moving, and Odysseus wouldn't be too happy if I got hurt...now would he?"

The mere mention of the formidable leader caused the men to flinch, images of Odysseus' fearsome wrath flashing in their minds.

Lycus grunts in defeat. "Fine." Reluctantly sheathing his weapon, Alexander follows suit in a mixture of annoyance and grudging acceptance.

The Lotus people seemed captivated by the scene unfolding before them. Their gaze remained transfixed on you, faces filled with a strange mix of curiosity and wonder.

You turn and offer them a warm smile, disarming the Lotus-eaters completely. Their gaze remained fixed on you, captivated not just by your courage and kindness, but also by your beauty.

Unlike the warriors who had come earlier, bristling with aggression, you approached them with an open heart of respect and curiosity.

And they knew this...from the moment you stepped into the forest, you were being watched after all.

So watchful of those who arrived on their island, the Lotus-eaters had seen everything: your reverence for the plant life, your gentle touch as you collected herbs—it spoke all that was needed.

They felt—no, they knew your heart held no malice. So that's why they had no problem answering any question you asked.

Meanwhile, the men assigned to guard you grow bored from the lack of conflict. They began to talk to each other, attention drifting away from their assigned duty.

After all, you seemed perfectly safe surrounded by these serene beings.

Encouraged by your gentle demeanor, one of the Lotus-eaters hesitantly approach you. He's tall, a crown of woven leaves sitting on top of his curly-hair.

Shy and gentle eyes meet yours. A tranquil smile is etched on his face as he holds out a strange bulbous fruit within his cupped palms, its surface pulsating with an otherworldly glow.

You recognize it instantly for its legendary intoxicating properties, accepting the Lotus fruit with a grateful smile.

Knowing the dangers of the Lotus and its ability to induce a blissful forgetfulness, you carefully stow it away in your satchel.

The Lotus-eaters trill in content, their voices all speaking at once in a wave of pitches.

Straining to hear what they were saying, you slowly make out some of the words drifting through the air.

"...giant..." one voice rasped, low and conspiratorial. "...big as a mountain..." another chimed in.

You pause, a flicker of unease taking root in your stomach. 'Did I just hear that right?...'

"Excuse me," you began, your voice dropping to a hushed tone, "but I couldn't help but overhear something about a... giant?"

They eagerly nod, their excited chatter confirming your worst suspicions.

The Lotus-eater from earlier locks eyes with you. You sense a flicker of concern flash across his glazed eye before murky sereness takes place once more.

He spoke, voice deep and whimsy. "The one-eyed giant in the east? He owns most of the sheep, calls himself Polyphemus..."

'Giant...sheep...cave...east...that means—' when the pieces clicked in your mind, dread coiled in your gut. Odysseus and his men...trapped with a monstrous cyclops?

This was a disaster. You needed to get away, and fast.

Glancing at the warriors, still lost in their own world of boredom, a devious plan began to form in your mind.

You turn to the group of Lotus-eaters and lower your voice further.

"Listen," you began, urgency lacing your tone, "there's something really really important I need to get from the cave in the east."

You give a nudge towards the lounging duo guards. "Those men who came with me wouldn't understand. Plus they're not very nice...they've been nothing but mean and unhelpful!"

The Lotus-eaters exchanged glances. Even with their peaceful demeanor they could sense your worry.

"What do you want us to do?" the crowned Lotus-eater asked, his voice laced with alarm.

A large grin stretched across your face.

"Pretend to kidnap me!" you declared, barely able to contain a giggle. "Take me to the cave. There, I can handle the rest."

Their faces broke into wide smiles. Now this was a game they understood.

A Lotus-eater with eyes the color of the sky, clapped her hands in delight. "Oh that sounds fun!"

Before you could even blink, half of the group erupted in a playful ruckus of shouts and laughter; hurling small rocks branched leaves at the warriors.

The men sputtered in confusion as nearby plants and vines creeped down and snatched their weapons, leaving them flabbergasted and unarmed.

"What in Hades—" Alexander exclaims, eyes wide with confusion as his sword was yanked from his grasp by an unseen force.

Now for your part.

Taking a deep breath, you let out the most dramatic, exaggerated scream you could muster. "Help! Oh no! They are taking me! What ever shall I dooooo!"

The distracted guards turn in time to see the other half of the Lotus-eaters scoop you off the ground. You kicked your legs playfully, still crying out in mock distress. "No! Oh no! Let me go! Someone, save meeeeeee!"

As Lotus-eaters began moving to the cave, you grimace when realizing a little too late of your lack of fighting back and reaction to being taken. 'I hope they didn't see right through me. Probably should've acted a little more afraid.'

"H-hey!" You turn back to see Lycus' stressfully looking in your direction as he tries to dodge the sticks and stones, "They're kidnapping her!"

"We must save her!" Alexander chimed in, his panicked filled voice reaching your ears before you disappear into the foliage.

You blink in disbelief at their gullibility. 'Nevermind...'

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The further you were carried away from the clearing, the more the sounds of chaos faded into the background.

When you finally reached a safe distance, they gently set you down.

Once brushing off your clothes and looking around you immediately notice the Lotus-eaters brought you to the side of a mountain.

'Where's the cave...?' Confusion flickered across your at face as you try to understand why you where there instead.

Seeing your puzzled expression, the crowned-Lotus eater stepped forward with a gentle smile.

"We brought you to a secret passage," he explains softly, "It's a hidden way that leads to where the sheep are kept. The giant one may find you at the entrance, but this path is safe."

He gestures towards a cluster of branches and vines. Pushing them aside, he reveals a human-sized crack in the mountainside before letting dense foliage fall back over the cleverly concealed hole.

A warm smile spreading across your face at their concern and attempt for your safety. "Thank you!"

Leaning forward, you stand on your toes to place a soft kiss on the forehead of the crowned-Lotus eater who's been your main communicator of the time.

His cheeks flushed a deep scarlet red as he giggled, his companions joining in with flushed faces and shy smiles of their own.

"Good luck," he whimsically mutters, still blushing.

With a nod, you turned towards the secret passageway. Your heart pounds as you carefully push aside the branch and vines and squeezed through the opening.

The rough stone walls loomed around you as distant noises faintly echo in the background.

Air growing cooler and damper with each step as you ventured deeper inside, it wasn't until then did the faint sounds became clearer—multiple voices talking and sounds of sheep scuffling around.

You pause at the edge of the cave, listening intently.

"Over here!" At the sound of Odysseus' commanding and calm voice, you immediately peek around the corner.

The first thing you're met with is an abundance of food and resources scattered all around: Jugs of wine stacked neatly against the walls, expensive cloths rich in color and texture, to even golden chalices and cups that gleamed in the torch-light cave.

And the sheep.

There were so many! So much, a few roaming ones were so close that you could feel the softness of their wool if you just reach out to tou—

Your nose scrunch up in disgust as a pungent wave of musk, grass, and a hint of manure hits you. 'Ugh...don't smell as cute as they look. That's for sure.'

Looking past the sheep, your body almost instinctively relaxed as you saw no signs of dead bodies or a murderous Cyclops.

Instead, you spotted the King of Ithaca standing alongside his 2nd of command and friend, onlooking as the other men got to work.

"Odysseus! Look at all this food...a-and all of these sheep!" Polites exclaims, you could even make out his bright smile all the way from here. "I can't believe it! This cave, it has all this for us to keep."

Eurylochus stood a few feet away, a begrudging nod of acceptance as he keep watch of the soldiers as they slaughter sheep and prepare to carry them to the ships. "I've gotta hand it to you both, this is quite the treat. More than enough sheep here to feed the entire fleet."

"Hmmm. I'm not sure. Looks too perfect, too good to be true." Odysseus seemed unconvinced. He shifted on his feet, glancing around as unease began seeping into his bones. "Why would the Lotus-eaters pass up on all this food?"

'Okay!' You take a step back, readying yourself for the potential scolding you most definitely were going to get for leaving the ship. 'You can do this...'

He sounds worried enough, so maybe he won't be too mad?

Taking a deep breath, you straighten you back and take a step out to greet the—

"WHO ARE YOU?" A deep, rumbling voice echoes through the cave, making everyone freeze in their tracks.

Popping your head back around the corner, the blood drains from your face once you see the Cyclops.

Odysseus steps up with a confident smile. "Hey there! We're just travelers." He waves to the giant and motion to the others. "We come in peace."

The cyclops says nothing at first. He's monstrous, frame towering above so high you could barely make out his features—a single eye glowing menacingly in the darkness as it glared down at the Spartan warriors.

"YOU KILLED MY SHEEP. MY FAVORITE SHEEP. WHAT GIVES YOU THE RIGHT TO DEAL A PAIN SO DEEP?"

You stumble back with a soft gasp and try to calm your racing heart. Your mind raced as you tried to figure out what to do.

"TIME TO DRINK—YOUR BLOOD OVER WHERE YOU STAND. YOUR LIFE NOW IS IN MY HAND."

Recalling the tales and stories of the cyclops' favored weapon (a massive club), you knew it was only a moment of time...

"BEFORE I'M DONE, YOU WILL LEARN THAT IT'S NOT SO FUN TO TAKE. YOU CAME TO MY HOME TO STEAL, BUT NOW YOU'LL BECOME MY MEAL."

Your hand flickered down to the weight in your satchel. With trembling fingers, you rummaged through it.

A Lotus fruit and bundle of dried Nepenthe and Poppy herbs are pulled out the bag, now in your hands. 'Please Gods....please. This has to work...'

"A TRADE, YOU SEE? TAKE FROM YOU LIKE YOU TOOK FROM ME."

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yui-onnero · 4 months ago

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Listening to Love in Paradise on repeat, you cannot tell me this man has not tried to escape multiple times. Just listen to how he sings (first meeting), it just screams, "How can I get out of this, how do I get out of this, what can I do to get out of this, GIMME MY WIFE-"

Like, the idea popped into my head that he would've probably tried to built a boat/raft and an oar or two to escape and Calypso was just amused by his attempts since she was just gonna snach him up again. Yes, she'd be a bit hurt, but she'd admire his attempts for trying.

(After another failed attempt to take a raft off the Island, Calypso walks him back to the cabin.) Odysseus: (murmuring) I was so close... Calypso: Yeah, good job! You managed to finish the raft and oar this time and got a good amount of distance off shore! (it was really only a couple yards) That's pretty impressive! Odysseus: (eyes narrowed) Not good enough it seems... Calypso: (blinks a few times before responding) As much as I admire your efforts, you should just relax in my paradise! We have forever after all! Why don't you just rest inside my paradise? Odysseus who frowns softly and looks sad and slightly defeated because he just wants to go to his wife and son-

But you already know he's trying again eventually.

(Until he gives up and tries to commit suicide 7 years later-)

And of course I finish writing this after almost crying a few times at the ending of the song-

#epic the musical #odysseus #epic the musical odysseus #epic the wisdom saga #epic the musical athena #epic the musical theories #epic the musical calypso #ATHENAAAAAA!#jorge rivera herrans #epic musical #just let the poor boy see his wife-

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ahsokaismyqueen · 5 months ago

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Finding Eddie Pairing - Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Summary - After a long day of trying to find Eddie, you, Steve, your brother, Robin and Max all find your way to Reefer Rick's house where the time finally comes to tell the truth to your ex-best friend. Word Count - 2.8k Warnings - Language, but that's it! Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist

You could feel it in your gut. Eddie was here. While you hadn’t been in his life much in the past year, you had been best friends since middle school before that, and this is the last place that you could think of that he would hide. You eased the door open to the boathouse, trying to be as quiet as possible.

“Is he in there?”

“Shit!” You jumped, turning around to slap your brother in the arm. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

Dustin gave you an apologetic look. “Sorry.”

You turned back to the door, opening it up the rest of the way without worrying about being quiet. After all, Dustin had ruined any hope of that. It looked as you expected, a mess, but there was no obvious sign of Eddie yet.

“Maybe he’s not here?” Steve said, walking up behind Dustin and glancing around the room.

“Or he’s hiding.” You said, unwilling to believe your only lead to finding him was a dead end. “Come on. Let’s take a closer look.”

Steve nodded, holding his arm out to make you let him go first. You rolled your eyes, but followed behind, with Dustin, Robin and Max next. “Hello! Anyone home?!” Robin called as she used her flashlight to sweep the room.

No one answered.

“What a dump.�� Steve said, looking around. After a couple of moments walking around. Steve turned his flashlight off and reached out to grab an oar from the wall. You watched as he then started stabbing the covered boat in the middle of the room.

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked before you could.

Steve continued to poke the boat. “He might be in here.”

“So lift the tarp!” Dustin said.

“You’re so brave, you take the tarp off!”

You rolled your eyes at their ridiculousness, and continued sweeping the room, catching up with Max and Robin, who were looking down at something. You glanced at the food wrappers they were observing, and your heart leapt into your throat. “He’s been here.” You said, and when Max and Robin looked at you, you continued. “That’s his favorite snack.”

Robin shrugged. “Maybe he got spooked and ran.”

“Don’t worry. Steve will get him with his oar.” Dustin said.

Good God. These two would be the death of you.

“I know you think you’re being funny, but considering everyone in this room has nearly died a hundred times, personally I don’t find it funny in the slightest-”

Everyone in the room leapt back in shock as Eddie burst out from the boat, and you realized with horror, started after Steve with what looked to be part of a broken bottle. “Eddie!” You ran towards the man who now had your boyfriend pinned to the wall and grabbed the arm that was holding his makeshift weapon. “Eddie, stop!” You tried to tug his arm away from Steve’s neck, but it wouldn’t budge. “It’s Steve! He’s not going to hurt you!” Eddie wouldn’t even look at you and panic started rising in your chest. Oh god. What if he was possessed by something from the Upside Down?

“Steve, why don’t you drop the oar, show Eddie you’re not going to hurt him.” You heard Dustin say behind you.

“Right, yeah.” Steve nodded, but as soon as he did, it caused a loud crash that startled Eddie, making him put the bottle closer to Steve’s neck.

“Eddie!” You pulled hard on his arm when Steve groaned, but it was useless, he wouldn’t back off.

“What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, and you felt the slightest hint of relief that at least his voice sounded normal.

“We’re looking for you.” Dustin said.

“We’re trying to help you!” You added, glancing over at him and then Steve. “But I can’t help you if you hurt him, Eddie.” You said, and at those words Eddie turned to look at you. “Please.” You implored, giving his arm a squeeze. “Let us help you.”

Eddie stared at you, a stare that pierced your very soul, and you were reminded once again of how much history the two of you shared. How many years of friendship that you had both thrown away for a stupid fight. A fight that you regretted every second of. “You want to help me?” He asked, and you had the feeling he wasn’t asking about everyone else. No, he was asking about you.

You didn’t hesitate a second to respond. “Of course I do.” You reassured him, and then glanced back at Steve. “As soon as you let him go.”

He turned back to Steve, and you watched with bated breath until Eddie shoved Steve back and moved away. You rushed forward and grabbed him around the waist with one arm, your free hand reaching up to cup his cheek for a moment before brushing back the hair from his face. “Are you okay?” You asked him, biting your lip as you looked him over.

Steve nodded, and glanced over at Eddie as he sank to the ground. “Do you think he’s himself?” Robin joined the two of you while Dustin went to go sit with Eddie.

Thinking about it for a moment, you nodded. He was stressed, panicked, terrified, but he was Eddie. “He’s scared.” You said, looking at him and Dustin again.

Steve stared at you, reading your expression, and then pointed his head in Eddie’s direction. “Then he could use a familiar face.” He said, reaching out to touch your waist. “You should go to him.”

You looked back and forth between the two of them. You wanted to go to Eddie, but you didn’t want to leave Steve either.

Steve squeezed your waist again. “I’m okay. It’s okay. Go.”

Your heart swelled with emotion at the unselfish action, and leaning forward, you placed a lingering kiss against his cheek then headed to join Dustin and Eddie on the ground.

“You know, it’s ironic that you were the one so worried about getting murdered, and you’re also the only one who ended up with a bottle to their throat.” You heard Robin tell Steve.

“Shut up,” Steve said, sounding exasperated.

You took a moment to glance over at Eddie, studying his body language. He clung to his makeshift weapon with shaking hands, and he was collapsed in on himself, almost as if he was trying to make himself smaller. He wasn’t looking at either you or Dustin, but his eyes were wide, almost as if memories were playing over and over inside his mind. You’d never seen him like this. Eddie has never been afraid to be himself, very few things fazed him, but this? This had. “Eddie, we want to know what happened.” You said, trying to catch his gaze again.

He looked at you, letting out a sniff. “You won’t believe me.”

God did he really think that? After all the two of you had been through together?

But Max answered before you could. “Try us.”

The story he told made you sick to your stomach. You couldn’t imagine seeing something like that in person. The horror of the image he painted in your head was bad enough. You looked over at Dustin, and his expression told you that the two of you were sharing the same thought. Whatever had happened to Chrissy . . . Something from the Upside Down was behind it.

“You all think I’m crazy right?” Eddie said when he was done, covering his face with his hands.

Dustin shook his head. “No, we don't think you’re crazy.”

But Eddie didn’t believe you. “Don’t bullshit me man! I know how this sounds.”

The emotion in his voice broke your heart a little, and despite your earlier thoughts, you couldn’t help but almost wish Eddie was back in his naive bubble, not having a clue about the danger surrounding him. At this point though, you knew he’d never be able to go back to that.

“We’re not bullshitting you.” Max said.

“We believe you.” Robin added.

Eddie just shook his head, and Dustin glanced over at you, signaling you were up.

The feeling in your stomach of wanting to throw up intensified, but you knew you couldn’t hold back the words any longer. He had witnessed it. He had a right to know now. “Eddie . . . I’ve been keeping something from you for two years.”

That got his attention. He stared at you, hanging onto every word you were saying.

“Remember junior year when I got that concussion and wound up in the hospital? And senior year when you saw those bruises on my neck and ankles?” Eddie nodded, and you saw him glance up at Steve. You knew he had always thought some weird connection between Steve and you had started to form senior year, and now he was connecting the dots of how it might have come to be. “I was kinda fighting creatures from an alternate universe.” You bit your lip and nodded to the rest of the people around you. “With all of them. Well, not Max, until senior year anyway. Or Robin, she came along this past summer when the mind flayer came back and destroyed the mall but-” the expression on Eddie’s face told you that you had said too much way too quickly. “The important thing is, we think whatever you saw happen to Chrissy . . . We think it was something from this alternate dimension. We call it the Upside Down.”

“How - how the hell does that even happen?” Eddie asked, his brow furrowed.

Dustin spoke up then. “Sometimes this dimension . . . It bleeds into ours.”

Eddie still looked confused. “You mean like ghosts and shit?”

“There are some things worse than ghosts.” Max said, and you wished you didn’t agree with her.

“These monsters, from this other world, we thought they were gone, but they’ve come back before.” Dustin said.

“And that’s one of the reasons we needed to find you. We had to see if they were back again.” You told him.

Robin, Dustin and Max continued to probe Eddie with the sights you usually associated with the Upside Down, but he just shook his head, denying that he’d seen anything of the sort. You wished it meant that it wasn’t something, but when he described how he tried to wake Chrissy, one thing kept popping up in your head.

“It sounds like she was under a spell.” Dustin said.

“Or a curse.” Eddie said.

You shared a glance with Dustin again, and then Eddie, realizing all three of you were thinking the same thing. “Vecna’s curse.” You said.

“Who’s Vecna?” Steve said, speaking up for the first time, and you turned to him, trying not to let the panic show on your face, but from the way his body tensed, you knew he saw right through you.

“An undead creature of great power.” Dustin answered.

“A spell caster.” Eddie added.

“A dark wizard.” Dustin finished.

Silence filled the room as everyone absorbed this new information. It was almost too much to take in, especially in one night, and if your mind was spinning, you couldn’t imagine what Eddie’s must be doing. The guilt inside of you from keeping this secret for so long came roaring back to life, and you started to speak. “Eddie, I’m sorry, I should have told you-”

“You guys should get going.” He interrupted, standing up and pointedly not looking at you. “No use in all of us being stuck here all night.”

You hesitated. “I feel like someone should stay behind with you just in case -”

“I’ve been doing fine on my own Henderson. It’s one night.” Eddie said, looking out at the lake.

Everybody agreed, and while part of you wanted to stay behind, he clearly didn’t want that right now. “We’ll bring you some supplies tomorrow okay? Food and stuff.” You promised.

He did turn to look at you then, but all he did was nod.

It almost hurt worse than the fight did. You found yourself holding back tears as you all walked back to Steve’s car. Moments later though, you felt an arm slip between yours and looked over to find Robin, giving you an encouraging smile.

You gave her a small one in return, resting your head on her shoulder until all of you made it back to Steve’s car.

————————

When Steve pulled up to your house to drop Dustin and you off, it was safe to say all of you were exhausted. You let Dustin go ahead of you, pausing by Steve’s side as he got out of his car as well. His hand reached out to touch your waist, his thumb rubbing against your skin. Neither of you said anything for a moment, watching Dustin head into the house. “Window?” He asked, bringing his eyes back to yours.

You nodded. “Please.”

Steve gave you a small smile, giving your waist a squeeze before climbing back in his car and going to park it in his usual hiding spot.

While he did that, you went inside, covering your sleeping mom with a blanket, checking to make sure Dustin was going to bed, and changing into an old sweater of Steve’s just as there was a tap on your window.

No sooner than Steve had both feet firmly planted in your bedroom were your arms around him, and you finally allowed yourself to let out the tears that had been pushed down all day. You knew you could let them out now that you were in your safe place.

“I got you.” He said at once, one of his hands settling on the small of your back while the other cupped the back of your head, swaying you back and forth as you tightened your grip around him.

“I’m all over the damn place.” You admitted against his skin. “I feel guilty for not telling him earlier, but then I don’t because he got to live two years not knowing that place existed. Then I can’t help but wonder if things would be different if he had known about it. He’s so upset that I lied to him Steve, and I can’t blame him for that. I know I would be the same, but at the time I thought it was the right thing to do. Then I feel even more guilty for being worried about our friendship when at any moment it could be announced that he’s wanted for murder which is a much bigger deal. And an even bigger deal is Vecna because God if he’s real, we don’t-”

“You’re doing that thing again.” He pointed out. “That thought spiral thing.” Steve pressed a kiss to the top of your head, no doubt trying to distract you, and you let out a little sigh at the affection before pulling back to look at him.

“Tell me how terrible and self centered I am.” You said.

“Yeah, I’m not going to do that.” Steve replied, shaking his head. “One because you’re being bossy, and two, most importantly, because you’re not.” You let out a groan and buried your face in his neck again. “Munson got a lot of information thrown at him tonight. Give him some time to process. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” You murmured.

Steve’s fingers ran through your hair, and you closed your eyes at the calming sensation. “The guy was your best friend for years. Gotta believe there’s some good sense of judgment in there.”

Despite everything, his words made you smile. “What does that say about you then, huh?”

“Hey, I wised up, and got the girl, so really, I probably have the best sense of judgment here.” Steve said.

“You’re such a dork.” It was stupid, and corny, but it made you let out a laugh. You pulled back enough to look at him, and at that moment you couldn’t help but marvel at how good he was at making you feel better by putting his arms around you, and just . . . listening and assuring you that it would be okay. You’d never had that. Well not since your Dad had died anyway, and you had forgotten how much you needed it, wanted it, to have someone you felt you could unburden yourself too. Someone who wanted to make sure that you were okay. “Thank you, by the way.”

He gave you a confused look, his brow furrowing. “What for?”

You smiled at him, a soft smile that mirrored how he made you feel. “Trying to take care of me today. Even when I didn’t want you to.”

Steve smiled back at you, a smile filled with affection and care that made you feel all warm inside. “I love you. I’m always going to try and take care of you.”

His words sent another wave of emotion through your body, one that you didn’t feel often, but you knew what it was. Peace. Peace because you believed him.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine

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birinboom · 5 months ago

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One Moment of Forever

Todoroki Shouto x ReaderWord count: 1,786 Summary: When Shouto is forced to take a break from work due to a quirk injury, the two of you decide to go on a camping trip to your favorite lakeside spot.

Genre: Fluff, established relationships, camping, nature therapy, pet names (love) Note: My entry for andypantsx3’s pretty boy summer collab. This fic is also a part of the @ficsforgaza initiative - thank you so much to those who sponsored it!! 💖💖💖 Check out my list of WIP's here! This is my first time writing Shouto, not sure I got him exactly right…

Your oar slips through the water, near-silent. The air is full of the song of birds. A couple take off from a tree, weaving between each other in a dance, their wings skirting the water of the river before they land in a tree on the opposite bank. You can’t help but smile at the scene.

Water laps at the bow of the canoe. Behind you, Shouto is quiet. Content with just sitting in silence, enjoying the early morning. It’s one of the things you love about him. He’s just as happy in a comfortable silence as he is listening to you talk. He doesn’t mind either way.

Leaves rustle on the riverbank and a doe steps out from the undergrowth, moving towards the river to drink. You suck in a quiet breath as first one fawn, then a second, follow the doe. They’re small, their legs still unmanageable, white spots bright against tawny fur. You can’t imagine them being more than a few days old.

Shouto shifts behind you, steering the canoe further towards the opposite bank in an attempt to keep the doe from bolting. Your head swivels as you slowly drift by, watching the fawns nurse, their little tails wiggling happily. When you deem them at a safe distance, you turn fully, beaming at Shouto.

“So cute!” you whisper.

He responds with a soft smile. “Very.”

You look at him for a moment. It’s early enough that the sky is still a gorgeous display of orange and pink, rising sun hidden behind the trees. The light limns him with gold. Despite having lived together for years, you are still occasionally struck by just how beautiful he is. Especially at moments like this, outlined in soft morning gold, a gentle breeze playing with his hair. He looks ethereal, like some immortal being from a fairytale.

Shouto tilts his head, puzzled.

“Is everything alright, love?”

You smile at him.

“Yeah. Just admiring the view.”

You have Bakugou to thank for this experience, you reflect as you pull the canoe onto the narrow strip of sand surrounding the lake. He was the one who introduced Shouto to camping long before the two of you met; and he was the one who introduced both of you to this campsite. It’s one of your favorite places to spend a few days off with Shouto. It’s small, but very well kept. Top tier amenities. And being a campsite specifically for pro heroes and their families, it requires reservations, meaning it’s never crowded. Any heroes you’ve run into on your previous stays would do a brief smile and nod -at most a moment of small talk- before they move on. They want to relax and unwind just as much as the two of you do. No one wants to talk about work.

This time, though, the campsite is empty except for you and Shouto. You were lucky -so to speak- that Shouto’s quirk-strain happened during the off season or the place would’ve been fully booked. He’s on strict orders to only use his quirk for emergencies and to spend his time off in rest and relaxation. And this campsite is the most relaxing vacation spot you’ve come across so far.

Clouds blow in later in the morning, the gentle pitter-patter of rain steady against your tent. Shouto has dozed off while you read, his breathing soft and even. Every breath weaves together with the sound of the rain, with the smell of petrichor. You find it difficult to keep your eyes open. Then Shouto rolls onto his side, one arm draping around your middle. He pulls you closer, face pressing into your neck. His body is sleep-warm, his arm laying heavily over you.

You can’t resist anymore. “Fine!” you mumble, putting your book away and settling in for a nap.

Shouto mumbles something in reply, pressing a gentle kiss against your throat.

The rain has stopped by the time you wake. Shouto is still asleep, molded against your back, clinging to you as he usually does. He once confessed while only half awake that he worried you would leave. That someone would steal you away. The confession happened years ago; you’ve shown him time and again that you’re not going anywhere, that this unknown someone would have to drag you away kicking and screaming. And still he clings to you like a burr while asleep. You don’t really mind, though. If that is what he needs to sleep peacefully, then you’re more than happy to relax into his warm embrace. It makes you feel treasured and safe. And you’ve grown so accustomed to Shouto’s arms around you that you find it difficult to sleep when he isn’t next to you.

Shouto stirs. You more feel than hear the soft groan he lets out as he wakes. Almost as if his body is fighting to stay asleep. He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

“What time is it?” he mumbles, voice rough from sleep.

“About 2,” you reply, rolling over to press your face into Shouto’s neck. “You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“No,” he replies, sounding more awake. “If I do, I will be unable to sleep tonight. I would rather spend my time with you.”

You spend a while cuddling, talking, basking in each others’ company. Something you both feel doesn’t happen nearly often enough in your daily lives. Then you carry on with your day.

The ground is slick under your feet. Each step you take is carefully measured. You’d forgotten just how steep part of the trail looping around the lake is. A hike right after a rainfall wasn’t your brightest idea. Still, the view is amazing.

You pause at the top of the last hill, wiping your brow. The lake spreads out in front of you, waters reflecting the gray skies. You can see your tent by the beach, a splash of red amongst green. It reminds you of the first ripe berry on a bush.

The thought of berries makes your stomach growl. It’s almost time for dinner.

You turn to Shouto. He looks completely unbothered by the ascent, not a hint of a flush on his face, his breathing calm and even. It’s unfair sometimes, how effortless physical exertion can be for him. At the same time you’re quite satisfied not having to fight villains on a regular basis.

“Ready for the last stretch?” you ask.

Shouto just nods.

You start down the hill, every step careful. Turning your head, to take one last peek at the view.

And then you slip.

Your back instantly collides with Shouto’s chest, his arms coming up to steady you. He seems as solid as a boulder, waiting patiently as you get your feet back under you. You have half a mind to just sag in his arms and demand he carry you back down the trail. You know he would do it in a heartbeat. But he’s meant to rest.

“Are you alright, love?” he asks when you don’t move.

You sigh in defeat, finally standing up straight. “I’m fine,” you say, looking back at him. “Just surprised.”

Shouto returns your gaze, lips pressed tight with silent concern. You look at him for a moment, before your eyes flick to the sky behind him. The clouds are the same steely-gray hue as his right eye. You can almost see them roll as they’re blown away. The sky should be clear soon.

The sun breaks out almost as if on cue, slanted early-evening rays highlighting the soft waves on the lake, the water sparkling. You point it out to Shouto.

“A quick dip before dinner?” you ask.

Shouto just looks at you for a moment. “It will not be too cold for you?”

You scoff. “Only one way to find out!”

You stare into the glowing embers of the campfire, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.

The dip in the lake was a less-than-great idea. Despite being heated from the hike, and despite making sure your hair stayed dry, you can still feel the chill of the water. It wasn’t too bad as long as you kept moving. Still, you’re happy that the two of you decided on spicy curry for dinner tonight.

Shouto shifts next to you.

“How are you feeling, love?” he asks.

“Better,” you reply. “Still a bit cold, but the hot food is helping.”

“Would you like to come on a brief walk with me?” he asks.

You look at him for a moment. “To where? It’s almost dark.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Shouto’s lips. “To the store by the office. I thought an after dinner treat might be in order.”

You stand, beginning to put out the fire. “Better hurry then, they close soon.”

The little store run by the office is stocked with a few necessities and of course snacks. But you notice something you haven’t seen before on your way to the till. Fireworks.

You stop, tugging on Shouto’s sleeve. Pointing at the small display, you ask, “Wanna get some sparklers?”

The two of you take the sparklers down to the beach, and -much to your protest- Shouto lights them with his quirk, claiming that such a small effort it would be no hindrance in his recovery.

You both crouch on the sand, watching the sparklers burn. Peeking at Shouto for a moment, you find his focus trained on the sparkler in his hand, the sparks reflecting in his eyes. You look away again, trying your best to curb your laughter. He is like a little kid sometimes, behaving like he is experiencing something for the very first time. It’s one of the many things you love about him.

You sit still long after the last sparkler has died out, pressed against Shouto’s warmer side, his arm looped around your back. The lake is quiet, the reflections of stars bobbing on its soft waves. You turn your face skyward, a silent breath escaping you at the beauty above. Turning to Shouto, you see the stars reflected in his eyes, much like the sparklers did earlier.

Burrowing closer against him, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“I’m happy we came here,” you say, laying your head on his shoulder, “even if it was because of your injury.”

Shouto hum in agreement, then you feel his lips brush against the top of your head.

The two of you sit for a while longer, watching the stars, enjoying the quiet night.

We should make sure to spend more time like this, you think. The two of you enjoying each other’s company. Watching the world go by.

One moment of forever with him.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

#prettyboysummercollab #fics for gaza #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #todoroki #shouto #shoto #x reader #x you #x gn!reader #gn!reader #fluff #established relationship #nature therapy

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jacesbeloved · 6 months ago

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amidst the waves: special part

summary: born a lowborn, your family a group of fishermen that supply the market; one day, it wasn't a fish caught but rather, a young man.

pairing: lucerys velaryon x fem!reader

notes: heree’s a special gift in the name of hotd s2 !! had this in the drafts for so long and just finished it after the first ep as a warm up for the fics to come :D i hope u guys enjoy

part: I, II, III, special

You had hoped for a nicer sea.

Inside of a sturdy wooden fishing boat, situated in the middle of the waters, all the while rain was pouring down on you, the waves wasn't cooperating as well.

Your hair was tied into a knot, absolutely drenched from the rainwater, as you desperately tried to help Alaine tie the net inside of your boat. Some of the sea creatures you've captured managed to jump back out because of the chaos inside of the boat.

"Are we not heading back!?" Alaine yelled, hands clutching the sides of the boat as the waves rocked the both of you.

"What do you think I'm doing!?" You moved the oars aggressively. Alaine groaned before joining you in rowing the boat.

Your hair strands stuck to your forehead by the time you arrived at a part of the sea where the storm had calmed down. Only a light shower of rain droplets fell on the both of you.

Alaine wiped her forehead tiredly, resting her head on her hands while you continued rowing. Desperate to head back home and escape any possible storm that may follow your boat.

Something seemed to feel wrong; like you were forgetting, neglecting something.

You sneaked your eyes to the side, a second before you sharply turned towards your sister's direction. Her skin was pale, body shivering.

"Alaine? Alaine!" You pulled off the extra piece of clothing around your neck and proceeded to place it around your sister. "Hey? Stay with me, okay? I'll bring us back." You whisper on her forehead and she weakly nods.

A sigh leaves your lips, forgetting the ache in your arms as you started to row continuously without any break.

It took the both of you an hour at most; your arms were practically crying and shaking. The fear and nervousness inside of you growing whenever you glance at your sister still trembling in your scarf.

The familiar shore reappears in your sight, even though it was still far away, you felt a bit relieved seeing it.

There was no one by the shore when you got closer. Your hut's door closed shut and you couldn't see any movement from inside of the open windows. You gently grabbed your sister's head, whispering her name on her head as you tried to wake her up.

"We're here, Alaine. Please stay for me," you spoke, rubbing her head as you started screaming your brother's name. "Arrel! Where are you! We need you, now!"

By your first scream, there wasn't anyone that came out to help bring you fully to the shore. You screamed Arrel's name again, this time even louder which caused Alaine to groan.

You apologized softly, pulling back the oars and rowing.

Someone yells your name, at first you thought it was Arrel but it wasn't.

There was another figure right beside your brother's. A figure that seemed taller, a little bit bulkier, and certainly more layered. The figure had a unique coat on, a luxurious one.

Your eyes go wide when the two of them run to your boat, pulling the front to the shore as your body freezes on the spot.

It's Luke.

Or, to be correct, Prince Lucerys.

"What happened to her, Y/N?" he asks out with concern, rushing to pull off the coat he was wearing and place it on top of your sister.

You weren't sure what to tell him; do you just answer and act normal as if there wasn't anything that went on between the two of you three years ago? Or do you ignore him, throw a tantrum, reject his offer of a helping hand?

"Y/N! What happened to her?!" You were snapped back to reality when Arrel was the one that asked you. Your eyes blinking erratically as you stammered through your words, telling them that it seemed Alaine caught a cold because of the rain.

"We have to bring her to the hut. Arrel, get some new clothes for her, the ones I bought, those are comfortable and warm enough for her." Luke instructs, your brother nodding as he runs off.

"What- Arrel! Help me bring Alaine there what are you doing!"

Luke sighs, obvious to him that you were ignoring him.

He grabs hold of Alaine's arm, helping her up with his hand on her hips. Despite not wanting to, you grabbed the other arm and proceeded to help your sister out of the boat. Choosing to set aside your pride for now.

"You should run inside. You're drenched! I will carry her." Luke says, stopping for a moment.

"No!" You yelled.

Luke huffs, rolling his eyes as he nods.

By the time you got to the hut, you had quickly finished dressing Alaine in a new set of clothes from her wardrobe, not taking the ones Arrel was handing you that were from Lucerys.

Arrel had brought in a pot with cold water, and you grabbed a towel and submerged it in cold water before folding it to place on top of Alaine's forehead. The younger woman was still shivering, even though her forehead was hot.

"Here," Luke joins, entering the open room with some liquid inside of a small cup.

You looked at him, confused. "This," he says, raising the cup. "It's tea. We can use it to make her sweat and get the cold out. We have to get the heat out of her body."

"I know how to treat a cold, Luke," you grumbled. Arrel is looking at you with an "are you serious" look. Another sigh leaves your lips. Arrel rolls his eyes and takes the tea from Luke.

You held the back of your sister's head up, helping Arrel and Luke as they tried to make her drink it. Making sure that none of the hot liquid falls on her. Alaine coughs loudly, grimacing at the taste.

When the two males get her to drink it all, you set her back down and wrap a blanket over her body. Letting her rest and sleep.

Hours passed by in such an awkward atmosphere. You were seating on the seat by the kitchen, quietly cutting an apple as Arrel assorted today's catch into different tubs. Luke was out for a bit, unclear to you what he was doing but all that you remembered was him borrowing a piece of parchment and some ink. After that, he stayed inside of the living room, right across from the open kitchen with Arrel in the middle.

Your youngest sibling suddenly stands up, informing you that he'll be taking them to the market and that he left some to cook for later.

"W-what, you're leaving now?" You stammered, eyes flicking over to Luke before snapping back to Arrel.

"Yes. I have to get these to the market. I have to buy some herbs and other food as well, some you can use for our dinner with Luke later-"

"I appreciate the thought, Arrel, but there is need not of an extra dinner. I can leave before dinner if needed-" It was Luke's turn to speak now.

Your lips go dry, Luke gulping, Arrel staring at the both of you weirdly.

Taking none of yours statements into account, he leaves the hut. Ignoring your empty threat.

That is why here you both were. Sitting in silence, not a word spoken, no stories of what happened in the other's life for the past years.

You lean back a bit, catching a glimpse of the sun setting so you stand up. Rubbing your hands on your hips. "I'll start cooking."

Luke was quick to stand as well, following your footsteps to the kitchen. "I can- I'll help!"

"No need. Sit."

"Nonsense. I used to cook for your family all the time." He says with a chuckle, an attempt in lightening up the atmosphere. "Used to, Luke. I'm sure your maids and cooks cook for you now, of course you'd forget how to grill and cook."

He grabs the small pail filled with fish, running outside and away from you.

Being the person that you are, you ran after him. Dashing out of the door while screaming his name, glaring at him. A smile draws on his lips as he runs near the shore, the weight of his clothes evidently wearing him down.

You shove him hard, gripping the padded shoulder of his shirt when you catch onto him. Luke laughs at that, acting as if he was getting hurt with each time you smacked his shoulder.

"Give me it; I'll cook," you demanded.

He calms down a bit, sealing his lips as he thinks for a second. Eventually, he hands you the pail with a small grin. "As long as you'll let me help."

Your eyes narrowed at him, and he walked away without a word. Luke catches up to you with no problem and sets out to walk beside you with his hands behind his back.

"I missed you, you know," he said. The sudden statement surprised you, a faint red hue threatening to show on your cheeks.

"I wrote to you many times," and you started to feel a bit apologetic. Remembering the times when a random raven flies to your hut, having a letter with Luke's signature? Speaking about how being with his family was weird but great,. He was still weird even after months, but he grew back into his family. Though he also missed staying in the hut, in his own little tent, grilling seafood at night for dinner.

"I didn't know you did," you lied.

You hear him scoff a bit: "I found my letters underneath your bed; Y/N. Arrel showed them to me."

And there it is. The nerve to apologize after being caught.

"I assume you have your reasons, and I respect that." He cuts off your train of thoughts, already assuring you when he sees the guilt strike your face.

"Forgive me," you said. "There is nothing to forgive, Y/N. I understand that we did not really leave each other on a good foot." He spoke with some sense of maturity, different from the one he already had way back.

You nod, pursing your lips.

The two of you remained silent, him watching as you prepped the fish, expertly using your knife quick and clean.

"So what brought you back here?" It was your turn to speak, opening up a conversation.

"I told you." He smiles at you. "I missed you."

You look away from him, acting as if you were looking for something, just to avoid him seeing your cheeks. The sun was still setting, and he would still be able to see the rosy stains on your cheeks from his reply.

"And the sea," he laughed, pointing at the waters. You laughed with him, and although it was forced, you tried your best not to. "Of course, the sea."

The rest of the conversation passed by awfully comfortably. It was like two childhood friends catching up about what happened in their lives. Loud laughs and playful remarks thrown here and there whenever one joked about something.

Arrel arrived, not really interrupting them when he did. Just simply walking inside the hut silently carrying some other already cooked food.

You remember one simple question that you had—something that was lingering in your head for the whole day ever since you saw him today. "What is it, my lady?"

"So, uh, how is life betrothed?" The response you got caught you off-guard.

Luke laughed. He laughed. Loudly. Not just a simple laugh; no, he was laughing hard.

You got thrown off by that, shaking your head and looking away. Focusing down on what you were cooking over the fire, as you just chose not to push on it. When he laughs at your name, you scowl. "What?!"

"Y/N-"

A loud roar cuts you both off, and your heart almost falls out of your ribcage when you see two big dragons flying in your direction. Your hand immediately comes over to grip Luke's arm, squeezing it as you point at the two creatures with fear on your face.

Compared to the pure fright on your face, Luke's face had relaxed as he recognized the two dragons despite the dark skies.

Both dragons flew above them, circling their little vicinity before the two dragons disappear for a few moments. Taking deep breaths, you slowly released your hold on his arm. A small smile appeared on his face as you went back to the clay pot hanging over the fire as if nothing had happened.

He followed you to your spot, ghosting over the fire as he watched you in silence. I watched the way your forehead creased in concentration, but the nibbling on your lips told him you were still irritated.

"I do not have a betrothed, my lady," he says the answer that was interrupted before.

"Rest her soul."

Luke shakes his head, "She is not dead. The betrothal was called off a few days after I returned."

"Oh!" you sigh, biting the inside of your cheek awkwardly at the piece of information. You didn't necessarily know what to do with the information but it certainly did lift a lot of weight off of your chest. "That is... unfortunate."

"Incredibly unfortunate," Luke echoes in the most monotone voice you ever heard. A deadpan look on his face.

You were about to take notice on that response of his when three figures appear behind him. I am walking towards the both of you. Luke, looking back as well, turns again to you but now with a genuine smile.

When they come closer, your breath hitches. It's Queen Rhaenyra with Prince Jacaerys and Joffrey.

"Your grace," you say, taking a knee and bowing to them. Luke glances at you as he does a shallow curtsy himself before he stretches his arms to hug his family.

"It is our honor to meet you, Lady Y/N. You are my son's savior," Rhaenyra reaches to shake your hand, a look of genuineness on her eyes. Jace and Joffrey reach as well, each taking turns saying their greetings.

"You praise me, your grace. I simply did what any normal person would do. It is more surprising and commendable that Prince Luke—" you pause, "Lucerys—managed to live through our impoverished, penniless—"

"Y/N." Luke stops you there, holding your arm with a frown. "You should not bring your family down. You guys have been more than welcoming and accommodating for me."

"I agree with Luke. It is us that are in debt to your hospitality. Without you, I do not think our family could have been complete again." Jace cuts in with a solemn smile.

Rhaenyra comes forward, glancing at your family's hut. "Oh, my parents are yet to come back from the town. My brother, Arrel, is also in the market for dinner—perfect!"

"I had just remembered. I will be able to cook a bigger dinner once he arrives."

"There is no need, dear. We have come here to express our gratitude for your hospitality to my son," Rhaenyra says softly. "May we?" You nod eagerly, opening the front door of your hut to welcome the unexpected family.

Luke tends to Alaine first, covering her with the curtain to provide her with some privacy as she is sleeping, before he happily accompanies his own brothers. Even telling Joffrey to start fanning the pit of fire while Jace skewered the fish. You and his mother having a cup of tea inside.

"You are all fishermen?"

You nod, "My mother and father deliver these seafood to King's Landing on occasion, which is why only us three are left here."

Rhaenyra hums, looking around. "Luke has told us all about this. According to him, he learned a lot more lessons on livelihood here than in King's Landing."

The two of you share laughters at that. "My apologies, your grace. My family—I included them—had not known of Luke—Prince Lucery's status so we had treated him as normal as we would any other person."

"There is no need to call him with such formalities. I am aware of the relationship you both share," Rhaenyra replies and you look at her awkwardly.

What even is this relationship that she speaks of? You weren't quite sure.

"There is no need to feel troubled, Y/N. If my son has yet to tell you, his—"

"Betrothal was called off," You finish for her. The Queen sends you a knowing look as she nods. The two of you comfortably sitting in silence.

A gasp disrupts the silence, "Oh my, your grace," Alaine's head falls to bow. Gulping as she looks at you with major confusion. You shrug discreetly, not knowing how to reply.

"This is Alaine. Our middle-born." Alaine does a curtsy with nervousness before Luke's call from outside echoes inside. "Mother! Y/N! Dinner is ready. Arrel has arrived back as well!" Luke yells from outside.

The three of them head back out to reveal the four boys getting along with each other. Arrel, despite being younger than the other three, is tallest and is the one ordering them around. They were fixing the plates and preparing the cooked meat.

Alaine had already run to the food as soon as she came out. You and Rhaenyra... still chatted.

"I know my son's attachment is heavy but I tell you this as a mother: all I want for Luke is happiness. He is to rule Driftmark after his grandfather. I figure it will be an incredibly burden, not to discredit your or..."

"Your grace, I do not know."

"Mother," Luke calls. The two of you turning to him. "You shan't pressure Y/N. Let us have supper."

Rhaenyra squeezes your hand as she sighs, nodding while pulling the both of you to where they were eating.

It was a rowdier but definitely cozier supper. Laughters and stories both from the sea and the castle were shared as if there weren't a barrier between their status—because to them, there weren't.

Luke was right beside you throughout supper. Comfortably jesting with your siblings and his. It was all too casual.

The two of you share a look at that moment, eyes staring longingly at each other. A smile comes onto your lips when you feel his hand slowly and softly creeping into your free hand. You glance at his hand, then at his face.

He's smiling at you. One that pulls at your heart again, just like before. Only this time, he's sure he won't be leaving you any time soon.

#hotd #lucerys velaryon fic #lucerys velaryon x reader #luke velaryon #luke velaryon x reader #house of the dragons fic #lucerys velaryon imagines

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simplyafountainpen · 6 months ago

Text

Dancing With Death

{𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼}: Doll!M!Reader x The Undertaker

{𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓬𝓻𝓲𝓹𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷}: It was a slow day in the shop, and the Undertaker was growing bored. Now, what better way to cheer up then playing with his favorite doll?~

{𝓣𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓼}: Switch!Mainly Bottom!Reader, Switch!Mainly Top!Undertaker, size queen, medical play (needles), spit used as lube, unhealthy power dynamics, pain play (by technicality), casket fucking, goofy sex, Reader gets a new penis;then gets fucked with the old one, Mute!Reader

The Undertaker glided through the halls of the funeral home. His hair flowed even more freely with the removal of his hat, which sat on your head.

He tidied up - in his own special way anyway - and moved coffins around as you sat wordlessly on an old, rickety gurney. Small dust clouds were swept up as he danced through the halls, you watching in what little curiosity you could muster up. He had been proud, you remembered, when you smiled for the first time, no matter how small it may have been. You've been slowly gaining emotions back as the years passed by Adrian's side. He hummed as he swept, though he was really just pushing dust into other corners.

Your hand snaked up to the stiches that lined both side of your jaw, sewed to a point that it only left the middle of your mouth able to open. Apparently, when you were brought back - your memory was always so hazy - your jaw just refused to stay attached to your head, so stitching the two was Adrian's next best option. Your feeling in that area was naturally lacking, but you made due, if just to see that delighted grin the white-haired reaper would gain. You were ripped from your thoughts when hands wrapped around your waist and ticked the various other stiches on your body, a head resting on your shoulder.

"What has you so lost in thought, love?" He giggled, and you laid your head atop his. You booped his nose and he gasped dramatically, draping himself over you even more than he was. "You were thinking of me?! Oh you lovely you!!" He started peppering your face in kisses, kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, and finally your lips. You turned, your waist and pelvic bones groaning at the movement.

Your body turned a full one-hundred and eighty degrees to meet him, legs still facing forward. Hands and arms encircled his shoulders, your head leaning into his chest. Your skin screamed in protest of the awkward position, but the pain was so dull with your dead nerves you barely cared to recognize it. Cleaning had been completely forgotten in Adrian's mind by now, instead he clambered up onto the gurney with you, lifting you - and allowing your body to flex back into a regular position - and placing you in his lap. Reaching over he grabbed a broom he had been using earlier in the day and used it as a makeshift oar to move the wheeled bed across the floor. The two of you flew across the Funeral Parlor until you crashed against a wall, Adrian laughing gleefully all the while whist you clung to him.

He recovered quite quickly, and pushed a shelf to the side, revealing a small staircase upwards. You had just barely began to dust yourself off when he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As soon as he entered the small staired corridor he gripped a small handle with his free hand, pulling the shelf back in it's place and allowing you both upstairs - the living quarters - with nothing to be bothered about as far as you cared.

Soon you were both in the lofty space above all the body filled coffins, now surrounded by half-finished, empty ones. You barely breathed as Adrian took you to your shared bedroom and laid you gently on the black sheets of a two-person casket, your body going boneless as soon as you felt the comforting coolness touch your equally cold body.

"Hehe, now now my love, I did still have a couple things I had to do today buuuuttttt, I figure I can do them tomorrow. I mean, with you sitting there so cute how could anyone get anything done??" Adrian asked with a smile, taking the hat of his that you still wore and placing it on a nightstand.

"In fact, you're so cute I might just-" "UNDERTAKER?!" Adrian paused, smile still on his lips but strained. You recognized that scream. It was the blue boy's scream, though you couldn't quite recall his name at the moment. You had heard your fair share of conversations between him and Adrian as you pretended to be a corpse in one of the many coffins downstairs.

"I forgot to close the shop and blow out the candles... ah well. At the very least this should be entertaining. Sorry love, I've actually got pressing business to attend to it seems, most likely about that young lad who came in a couple days ago." Ah yes, the little boy. He looked like he was strait from a portrait with how sickly and pale he was, how thin and skinny he was, and how thick those bags under his eyes were. It shocked you a little when you lifted up the hat Adrian had put onto his head to find the top of his head and skull missing, what little was left of the brain nothing more then a sickly red and grey soup. The hat was quickly placed back on what was left of his head.

You shook the image from your head, the picture fading into black in your mind, you had seen much worse while with Adrian anyway. You looked at him and nodded in understanding, leaning up and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. He blushed, giggling even more, before skipping off with a wave, opening a small hatch that would allow him to "appear" in a coffin downstairs.

Though, before he went down the shoot, he turned and blew you a kiss, mouthing something to you before flying down into the darkness below, door snapping back into the wall after him. It took a few moments to decipher what he had mouthed but when you did, you grabbed a pillow and shoved your face into it, feet kicking into the air.

'I'll make it up later, my Lily.’

·:¨༺ ♱✮¨:·ᨐฅ ᨐᵐᵉᵒʷ·:¨✮♱ ༻¨:·˚─── ⋆⋅⛥⋅⋆ ──

Adrian crept into the large bedroom, the sun long gone from the sky and the moon hanging lazily behind clouds. Your paled skin almost glowed in the light, chest unmoving, a sign of rest. He chuckled, thinking of all the ways he could wake you and make good on his promise from earlier. He waltzed over to a dresser, pulling out the bottom drawer, and began to make selections for the night. His eyes practically lit up the room when he pulled his hair back as he began to disrobe.

Satin wrap and mourning lockets resided on a table, and clothes - minus his undergarments - rested folded on a desk chair. As he stood stagnate for a moment, you shifted, upper body lifting with no help from your arms. When fully sat you, your head flopped forward. After a minute, you seemingly jolted awake, eyes flying wide and meeting his which watched with intrest.

"Rigor mortis again, my love?" he questioned, leaving some things on the desk while holding his hands behind his back. You nodded stiffly, twisting and turning to loosen your stiffened joints. Once something loudly popped in your spine, you sighed in relief. Adrian began walking over, still holding his hands behind his back. You raised your eyes in question, and Adrian chuckled.

"Are you wondering what's back here, love?~" He was teasing you, so you chuffed, raising your arms and grabbing at him. He laughed out loud that time, clambering into the casket and resting in your lap. Your arms quickly found purchase around his waist, hands groping at the feeling of his pelvic bone. The feeling was obviously tickling the pale, scarred man above you, because the laughter quickly turned into him belting out in joy, his hands slapping at the coffin floor. He snickered, snorting into your hair as he leaned down, one hand coming from his back and rubbing your scalp, and you leaned into the touch.

His hand trailed down to the small of your back, feeling the mourning clothes your family had gave him to bury you in, the smooth cotton under his fingers of the long dress coat you wore. You pressed your face into his jugular, inhaling and sighing. His hand came up and traced your collarbone. He dropped whatever he was holding to bring both hands to your coat in order to begin undressing you. Whatever it was, it was cold against the frozen skin of your legs. It felt textured, long in shape and bulbous at the head.

Whatever it was, you were more than ready to see it.

Adrian took all your upper layers off as you stared off into the distance, lost in your thoughts. You were limp as he raised your arms to remove you coat, vest and shirt, forehead rested on his shoulder as you slowly blinked. His hands glided across your paled skin, tracing stiches.

His hands trailed downward from your chest and to your stomach, rubbing the skin for a moment, humming, then dragging his hands down to your waist, resting his palms on the rim of your pants, digging his thumbs between the pants and your skin. You hummed, shimming your hips to make it easier for the man to remove your pants and underwear. He inched back till he was at your ankles, yanking both slacks and underwear off, then gently pulling your socks off.

You sighed, Adrian giggled, and he scooted right up back onto your lap, limp dick resting on one of his thighs. One hand came to touch your face, thumbing your cheek as you leaned in like a cat, almost purring like one too. His other hand went behind him, grabbing whatever it was he wanted to show you.

“My love, do you remember a certain conversation we had?” Your eyes met his, shocked a little at being able to see the glowing green light they emitted. After a instant though, you shook your head.

“Figured as much. For such a pretty face nothing much goes on up here.~” He jokingly lamented, knocking on your head rather harshly, making you grunt at the dull, non-existent pain. “Well, dear, it was about your… well how should I put this… your anatomy?” He questioned, though that was more to himself than anything. You tilted your head.

“As I’m sure you’re more than aware of, you are stitched together at the limbs. You have noticed, yes?” You nodded, hand subconsciously coming to feel the stitches on your face. “Then on that subject, I’m sure you’re aware that I had to take some… artistic liberties when recreating your penis?” You nodded again, hand on your face running down to your cock, which had more stitches than the Frankenstein, really.

“And as much as I do love the texture those 'artistic liberties' give me in bed, I’ve grown a bit bored, and we can’t be having that now can we, dear?” You rapidly shook your head no, muscles and bones creaking and groaning at the rate you shook your head.

“Glad we’re on the same page. Then, I hope you won’t hate this gift I have for you?~” You stared at him, eyes flitting down to the hand behind his back, still nuzzling - to the best of your ability - the hand on your cheek. Adrian smiled one of the widest grins you’d ever seen on him, and whipped his hand around to the front.

What met your eyes was one of the longest, girthiest and heftiest cock you’d ever seen in your life- or well… rebirth anyway. If the blood that was in your veins still pumped through your body, it would've run cold at the sight of the damned thing. One of your hands reached out to run a finger against it, the feeling of the thing being so life-like that you would mistake it for real cock. Knowing Adrian... it probably was. It, at bare minimum, was seven inches in length and five inches in girth. You licked what little skin of your lips your tongue could reach, eyes looking into Adrian's as his smile widened even more. He began to laugh at what you assumed was you expression, probably being the closest to shock your face could morph it into.

"Huge, isn't it?" He joked, tossing it from one hand to another, the weight the thing making loud slapping noises as he 'played' with it. You eyes followed it, almost hypnotized, but you shook your head and looked up to meet his eyes blinking in confusion. He still stared, his tongue now peaking from between his lips, and gazed into your eyes.

"Ah yes, I'm sure you're wondering: "How will we switch them out Adrian??", well my dear, I anticipated this would happen at some point and soooo-" He dropped the monster of a cock from his hand, standing and jumping out from the casket, rushing back over to the desk and picked up what looked to be a small medical bag. Within seconds he was back in the casket, taking out a small pair of suture scissors and a small scalpel. He placed the scissors down on a small tray he also removed from the bag before he began teasing the blade down your body, starting from infraumbilical and trailing down to your pelvis, teasing the sharp blade around the base of your dick, pressing on the suture's keeping your sex attached to your body. For a moment you felt a pinch, and finally some of the stiches broke, minimal amounts of blood pearling from the points where Adrian purposefully pressed a bit harder, the view causing you to chub.

Adrian tutted, grabbing what was still attached and squeezing, your breath hitching. He took the scissors from their resting place, replacing them with the scalpel, and snipped away at what little was left, an odd feeling clinging to your body as the flaps of skin at the base of your dick rested on your body, no longer attached. Adrian looked up, one hand still on your cock, and began chuckling again.

"... I made you like a little mix-and-match doll!" Without warning he tugged, and immediately you noted that a little more then just the just the skin would've had to have been sewn together in order for the dick to work. You groaned, feeling your urethral tube be split at your base. Your erectile tissue evidently was giving issue as Adrian grunted, picking the scalpel back up and make quick but precise cuts to the structure, making fast work of it.

And finally, you were free. You stared as open mouthed as you could be at the sight of your bare pelvis, making quick glances at the penis Adrian held in his hands smirking. Barely any blood pooled from the wound, what was left was drooping from your body. You kept your eyes on the stump, running a gentle hand over it, shivering at the extreme jolt of pleasure that ran though your, stronger than anything you had felt as of late. Adrian gripped your wrist before you could touch the pieces again.

"Now now my love, give me a moment and this will become much, much more pleasurable." You nodded, what little breathing you were preforming slowing when you thought of the new weight you'd be carrying around. Perhaps you may need a new pair of pants...

You snapped out of your thoughts, eyes focusing back on Adrian as he leaned close to your pelvis, old penis long discarded... somewhere you couldn't see. He was hard at work, lining up nerves and the new urethral tube to your own, erectile tissues already dealt with. All you could think about was how nimble Adrian's hands were, making quick work of all access skin and pulling out a medical grade needle and thread, the scissors making a reappearance as he tied knots. Whatever the hell he made the beast out of must have been fresh, because soon enough you were feeling each press of the needle into you skin. You couldn't help but pant, drool slipping from your sewed lips, whines rolling from the back of your throat.

Adrian laughed as he watched you eyes roll to the back of your head, an arm quickly wrapping around your midsection when you fell back onto your elbows. He made sure you hips would stay propped up as he continued to work, fingers ghosting now sensitive flesh. Your chest rose and fell harshly as he continued to work, a sudden weight pulling your hips down. It was silent for a moment, Adrien not laughing or speaking, only shallow breathing.

Everything was still, nothing but the crickets outside singing. Adrien sat up, his grin wide and full of glee. The reaper leaned close, pulling you back up by the shoulder. He leveled himself with your ear, hot breath puffing making it twitch.

"All done.~" He whispered, and abruptly his hand found it's way to the base, squeezing again. You whined, head falling even further back as Adrian made his way onto your lap, one hand now moving to your hair while the other stayed on your new dick. He licked his lips, bringing up his hand and spitting on it, wrapping it back around your cock and slowly stroking it, gently caressing the tip with his thumb, then he stuck his tongue out and giggled at you. You huffed like a dog, groaning and humming as he languidly stroked up and down. He began to palm your dick, pressing it between his hand and your stomach, stopping to pinch at the skin lightly. He yanked you by your hair to face him, eye to eye. Finally he smashed his lips on yours, cold lips meeting his wet lips in a harsh embrace. His teeth grinded on your lips, then forcing them as far as they could go and shoving his tongue in. Though only the tip of his tongue could fit, he groaned loudly, speeding up his palming and adding pressure. Your arms gripped Adrien's shoulders, nails digging into his shoulder blades.

He readjusted his grip, holding you dick again and rapidly stroking, precum running like faucet out your tip. Finally your 'kiss' broke, a long line of drool keeping you both connected. He smirked, laughing as he licked the line up, trailing up your cheek leaving a wet trail. Your eyes focused on his hand on your dick, watching it like it called you, breath short. You felt a knot in your belly begin to tighten, cock twitching and balls tightening. Adrien seemed to take notice and brought you closer and closer, before pulling away at literally the last second, leaving you a whining, whimpering mess. You let go of him and fall back onto a pillow, arms crossing above your head. Your now teary eyes stared into his as he cackled, slapping a hand to his forehead and and throwing his head back, kicking his legs into the air.

You picked yourself up, pouting and crossed your legs, turning away from him. His laughter died down into snickers when he saw you. He crawled forward and pressed his head into your chest, pressing himself into you and wrapping arms around your waist. You crossed your arms and looked away, shaking your head as he prodded his face into one of you pecks.

"Oh come ooonnn love, it was just a bit of fuuuunnn!" He dramatically sighed. You still looked away, not bothering to give him any kind of attention. He shifted himself onto your lap, your cock now between his ass cheeks. He began to grind down, what spit he globbed onto it earlier working as lube. You bit the inside of your cheek as his hands made their way around your neck.

"Lovely pllleeaassee look at mmee!" He was whining now, humping at your dick and rubbing his face up and down your chest. Your resolve was cracking but you sucked it up and continued to ignore him to the best of your abilities. It seemed Adrian had enough because one of his hands gripped your chin and forced you to face him.

"Now now my lily," you shivered, "Is this anyway to act towards the man who blessed you with such a beast like this?~" He clenched ass around your girth, bouncing faster to emphasize his point. You groaned, uncrossing your arms and gripping his waist. He laughed as you gave in, pressing your face into his hair.

"Good boy good boy! Such a good lovely you are!~ Now for your reward!" He suddenly gripped at your shoulders again, raising himself off your dick. Before you could whine in any way, he shushed you. He reached back with one hand and spread his cheeks, revealing his winking hole to the cold air of the room. You watched him shiver and then smile widely, then slam himself down onto your cock, not even taking the time to prep himself.

You immediately grabbed his hips to try and lift him back up to assess damage and scold him, but he tightened around you, sucking the monster dick all the way in one move. You froze, mind going fully blank at the feel of his hot insides fully encompassing your newfound girth. After a moment of recollecting yourself, you looked at him, both with lust and worry, and all he did was coo at you.

"Aw, is my darling worried for me?" You sniffed, nodding, and he only cooed louder, squeezing your cock and petting your head. You shivered and leaned into his touch. Tears fell and Adrian stopped his cooing and coddling to truly took at you.

"Are you... genuinely worried love?" You nodded, sniffling to the best of your current capabilities. Adrian's grin uncharacteristically dropped. For once he wasn't giggling or snickering or laughing. You gripped his hips a bit tighter. "Dear, look at me."

Your teary gaze met his concerned eyes and he did something you never thought you'd see him do: frown.

"I've been through much, much worse love." He murmured, and you nodded. "This is nothing to me, Love." You nodded again. "I want you to understand that I am perfectly fine with a bit of pain, alright?" You nodded again, rubbing his hips and pressing your face into his neck. You both sat there in silence, just breathing and existing in each others holds, your hands on his hips and around your neck.

You heard Adrian sigh, and felt his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the stitched up skin, paying close attention to make sure no stiches got caught in his teeth. You in turn hummed, continuing to rub circles into his waist.

He started to grind your cock deeper into his depths, your breathing shuttering at his movements, the circles you were drawing becoming shaky. Adrian smiled into your skin, gently rubbing your upper back while still laying soft kisses to your neck. You finally gripped his waist, grinding your cock into him, making him let out a loud moan that would turn into a laugh. He finally picked himself up and slammed himself back onto your cock, both of you groaning in pleasure. He moved up and down as he continued to press kisses, moving up your neck, to your chin, then your cheeks and then your lips.

He would bounce a couple times, then grind down and squeeze his walls around you. He did this over and over again, enjoying every time you’d whine when he’d stop for a moment. You gripped his waist, nails nearly piercing his skin, and raised him till only your tip was in his ass, then slammed him down, Adrien’s nails instead piercing your skin and drawing red lines on your back. You continued to bounce him, grunting as you used him like a toy. Adrian’s voice had became high pitched, almost girlish moans leaving his lips.

You held him down for a moment, slamming him into the back of the coffin. He grunted, and you quickly resumed pounding into his wet heat. Your hands left his hips and grabbed his thighs, pulling one onto your shoulder for more leverage as you kept pushing into him. The sound of skin on skin echoed through the room with Adrian’s moans right behind, the sent of sex filling your nose. Your hips met his with force, shifting him on his back, his hands falling and landing beside his head. You folded yourself forward, pushing your face into his chest as you continued to thrust. Adrian was screaming at this point, hair a wild mess beneath him and eyes crossed to the back of his head.

You harshly sucked in a breath when Adrian suddenly thrusted up to meet you halfway. You looked up at him too see him completely flushed and panting. You slowed down, watching as one of his arms picked up and trailed down your spine, and eventually rested on your ass. You raised an eyebrow at his action, then fell forward into his chest when a finger entered your ass. Immediately you jerked into him, which in turn made him push the finger deeper inside you.

You dropped his legs, wrapping arms around his midsection and whined loudly, humping into his warmth while he added another finger, constantly switching from thrusting them and stretching them out. Your eyesight was getting bleary from the sheer amount of tears pouring down your face. Adrian was moaning and laughing at the situation, adjusting you upwards on him so you were face to face.

"S-such a cute dolllll I have huh? So c-cute and PLIant for meeee hehe!!~” His tone was the slightest bit mocking as he stretched out your hole, adding a third finger which made you whine. He quickly matched your pace with his long fingers, poking your prostate head on, his other hand coming down to slap your pert ass. He laughed wildly at your noises, now more bouncing you up and down then you had been.

He suddenly gained strength, enough to sit up at an angle and force you to stop, ripping his fingers from your hole and pushing you over to land on your back, cock still inside him all the while. Adrian reached behind him, sweating and panting as he cackled and picked himself up to slam back down on you.

The feeling of finality raced across your mind and you seized up, joints locking and hands flying to his chest, tearing down causing him to bleed. He giggled, tutted once more, reached behind him, and suddenly slammed something deep with you. You jerked up, pushing yourself fully within his ass and cried, nails digging deeper into his flesh.

Rigid and bumpy the object was, fleshy and cold to match you, it nailed your prostate head on. You looked at Adrian incredulously and all he did was smile, rear the thing back till only the tip was encased inside you, and pushed it fully back inside. Again you slammed into him, his head rearing back and hair flowing wildly. He set a quick pace, one not hard to follow, and it wasn’t long until you gave in and gave one final pump, then came inside him.

Adrian all but screamed to the heavens when you released; but, he didn’t stop his relentless attacks on your ass, still fucking you with whatever he was fucking you with. He kept bouncing even as you silently pleaded for him to stop, hands moving to his biceps to stay steady as overstimulation started to settle in your bones. A creamy white ring made its home beneath his ass as your cum was pushed out by even more release when you came again, shoving at Adrian’s chest to get him off you.

“O-OH!! Not yet m-my love I’m al-ALMOST!! ThERE!!~~” With that, Adrian slammed himself down the hardest he had all evening, pushing his new found toy to the hilt up your ass, the both of you cumming at the same time, his seed landing all across your torso and chest.

He fell forward, lying on top of you, both of you breathing harshly. Adrian giggled, licked up some of his own cum, and kissed you, tonguing it past your lips. It was salty, with just a touch of sweetness, you hummed and swallowed as he fell back onto your chest. The two of you lied there, basking in the afterglow and simply existing for a short while, before finally you realized something.

Poking Adrian on his shoulder, he glanced up and you motioned to you butt - ignoring that fact you were both still connected via your flaccid cock up his tight ass - and gestured for him to remove whatever was still inside there. Evidently this was hilarious to Adrian because he quickly slammed as hand on you chest and burst out into gut wrenching laughter, his whole body shaking, which made you groan because - again - you both were still connected by the hips.

“Oh, oh dear you are not going to like this… b-but that new ‘toy’ I added in the, ahem, passion of the moment- if I may say - was… it was - hehe… it was uhm… Well how about I just show you?~” After choking on his own laughter, the hand that still held whatever-it-was ripped it out without warning, but before you could even make any kind of sound, it was presented before you.

… Your old cock.

Adrian had fucked you… with your own, old cock.

Evidently the look on your face was amazing because Adrian burst into tears, throwing the poor thing across the room to hold himself as he laughed. You stared at him in disbelief, but quickly let it go, hugging him to your body and turning to lay on your side. He snickered into your chest as you closed your eyes, allowing the moon to shine over your sweaty bodies.

Your pressed a kiss to his head as he continued to now silently laugh in your grip. Opening one eye, you looked at him softly. Even if he was a kook, he was your kook.

… A kook that fucked you in the ass with your own cock, but your kook nevertheless. And that’s exactly how you wanted it to be.

{𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼}: I adore the Undertaker. What I wouldn't give to be one of his Dolls...

-🖋️

All publishings on this account belong to @fountain-pen-anon. I do not authorize my fics being altered, translated, stolen or published/reposted to other sites, thank you.

#⸸⚜/ᐠ - ˕ -マ‧˚꒰🐾꒱༘⋆✄┈┈┈┈ 𝓓𝓲𝓷𝓷𝓮𝓻 𝓲𝓼 𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓿𝓮𝓭 #male reader #x male reader #switch character #switch reader #Undertaker x reader #undertaker #black butler #black butler x reader

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socksracoon10 · 11 months ago

Text

Pirate

Pairing: Will Turner x F!Reader, Jack Sparrow x F!Reader (Platonic) Read The Second Part: Not Just A Pirate

That imbecile had left you with Barbossa, and the thought of having to deal with his monkey's stupid chattering had nearly driven you to madness. Seizing any opportunity available, you had found yourself a small boat and began your search for Sparrow. You weren't expecting much from him, considering you were technically a part of his crew - the rest were with Barbossa. Not that it made any difference, though, because at the moment you were without a captain and unfortunately in the eyes of a few redcoats who eyed you, warily. They drew their rifles closer to themselves, marching over with some fire in their eyes.

"Oh, curse me," You muttered underneath your breath, throwing your hat into the water below, before carefully stepping onto a dock. Your foot dangled helplessly onto the boat, almost causing you to lose your balance. Gesturing for a soldier to come help you, you grabbed hold of his arm and hoisted yourself up onto the wooden platforms and sighed in relief, thanking them with false kindness.

"Enough, enough," One of them grumbled, rolling his eyes. He sneezed, the droplets of his mucus flying past you as you cringed at the sight. Despite being a pirate, you still had at least a little bit of hygiene left in you during your days as a "proper" lady. "What brings a girl like you to Port Royal, especially in that poor excuse of a boat?"

You followed the soldier's fingers to the vessel, noticing the way a few splinters poked out from the oars. It was a ghastly sight and a miracle that it had managed to take you this far without sinking. Shaking your head, you came up with the best excuse you could think of,

"I was robbed by a pirate. I was hoping at least one of you would show some mercy and help me find that treacherous man."

"Was it Jack Sparrow?" Another soldier chimed in, his voice so delicate as he uttered the name.

"Precisely!" You whispered, excitedly as you wriggled your eyebrows, "Have you seen him lurking about here? I ought to give him a piece of mind!"

"Now, now, listen here, you don't have to do anything," The third soldier cried out with an exasperated sigh, "As misfortunate as your encounter with Sparrow must be, I implore you to go find yourself an inn for the time being." He had this air of haughtiness in his voice, one that made your frown deepen into a snarl. Biting the inside of your cheek, you pushed any emerging ill comments at him down to your boots and merely nodded your head in response.

Pushing past the soldiers, you trailed up the staircase to the cobbled streets of Port Royal and found a group of more soldiers running down the streets from The Governor's quarters. Frowning, your faintly heard the mention of Jack Sparrow among one of the redcoats that passed by you and you instantly figured out what was going on.

Crossing through an alley, you found a familiar set of beads dangling from an individual's head, hiding behind a wagon; he occasionally lifted his head to peer for any danger, unaware of your presence behind him.

"AHEM," You crossed your arms, glaring at him. Either he was ignoring you on purpose, or he was incredibly deaf and stupid. Rolling your eyes, you slapped the back of his head and watched him hurl into the wagon with a yelp of pain. He turned around on his heels, swiftly, narrowing his eyes for a moment to scan your face. Upon recognition, he grinned and held his hands up in the air,

"(Y/N)! Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" He exclaimed, holding onto your hands. You wriggled out of his grasps, before slapping him across his face, sharply.

"You moron! You left me aboard Barbossa's ship! After everything we've been through, I thought you were a brother to me! Family! You've decided to lurk about and be the prying little-"

"Whoa... now, love, we don't have much time to listen to your usual rants, do we?" Jack interjected your thoughts, raising a finger up. He swayed towards you, looking over your shoulder to ensure that there were no redcoats nearby. His eyes then glanced back towards you, "Listen, I think we should split ways and then meet up back at the docks. What do ya say?"

"I say no," You hiss, "I don't trust your words. We go together, or I'll throw you to the soldiers myself!"

"Darlin', you're a pirate too. You're only doing yourself a disservice here," Jack scoffed, and you clutched onto his collar,

"Try me. You cross me one more time, I won't care if you're my captain or like a brother to me, I shall drive my sword through your head and watch you scream for mercy." You threatened him, before shoving him off. Jack dusted his coat, creasing out the new wrinkles you caused with what he assumed was an indifferent expression on his face - he couldn't hide the slight fear your words caused him.

As you extended your hand out for Jack to accept, the thunderous footsteps of the redcoats just around the corner caused you both to pick your feet up and run. Jack had hopped over among the roofs, and you had run inside a blacksmith's keep. Grabbing a sword from the sleeping blacksmith, you were set to head back out when you had noticed a shadow emerge from the other side of the door.

"Oh, bollocks," You whisper, in a panicked tone, leaping behind a wooden table somewhere far enough for cover. You heard the footsteps of someone patter across the room, shifting through some equipment before they loudly whispered,

"Not where I left you..."

Ah, so it was a man. And judging by the sound of his voice, he was pretty young. You peered, carefully, from the table and noticed his ponytail, and his well-fitted yet a bit dirty clothes. He wasn't bad-looking, surprisingly. He tapped his foot, impatiently, before drawing out his own sword and turned to your hiding spot. Sighing in defeat, you stood up from the cramped place and stretched your arms with a lazy yawn, stalking over to him.

"You're a pirate," He spat, his sword dragging up and down the air as he gestured at you.

"I'm also a lady. Now, this can go two ways. Either you let me go and I find myself back to Jack Sparrow, or I kill you... and find myself back to Jack Sparrow." You reasoned, forcing a smile at him as you made your way to the exit. Within seconds, you felt the tip of the blade against your chin, turning your head to face him. He had a deathly glare on his face but his eyes spoke of something else. Seeing that there was no way out of this without blood being shed, you raised an eyebrow,

"Come now, love, must there be hostility? Fine then, have it your way." You spat, before dragging your sword and jabbing it towards his stomach. He deflected my attack, and swung his sword around towards your neck. Dodging backwards, you lunged forward and elbowed his gut before parrying the thrust of his sword. He fell back for a moment, catching his breath as he shook his head,

"That's cheating." He breathed out between pants.

"Well, that's life, and now help a lady out and let her escape." You snickered, prying his fingers off his sword.

"Ah, but that's where you're mistaken... you're a pirate." The young man smirked, and the front door swung open with Jack at the hands of the redcoats, a sheepish look attached to his stupid face. Glancing back to the now standing young man, you found yourself handcuffed and dragged off with Jack besides you.

William didn't fail to notice your menacing glare as you were taken away and he let out a proud smirk at the sight. And yet, something felt wrong. In all the years as a blacksmith's apprentice, nothing had excited him as much as this encounter had. He turned to the burning furnace, his thoughts fixated on seeing you.

For one more time, at least.

#writing #fanfiction #fanfic #william turner #william turner x reader #will turner x reader #will turner #POTC x reader #POTC fanfiction #potc fanfic #jack sparrow x reader #jack sparrow #will turner x y/n #jack sparrow x y/n #jack sparrow x reader platonic #pirates of the carribean #the pirates of the caribbean #pirates of the carribbean x reader #pirates of the carribbean fanfiction #pirates of the carribbean fanfic #i love will turner #guys if this doesnt post now im gonna cry ive been trying for the past 5 times now #actually gonna start crying #also i didnt know theres a word limit now?#i used to write like 6-7k word fics #and now i can only write like 1k words?#dawg bsfr #my original draft of this was so good #but then i had to chop out so much stuff my heart aches #it jsut doesnt sit right with me right now but it is what it is ig

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vagabond-umlaut · 10 months ago

Text

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

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overtaken-stream · 10 months ago

Text

Where On3 Will St4nd

King The Wildfire x F!Lunarian!Reader

100+ Followers Special!! I APPRECIATE YOU GUYS SO MUCH! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT! THANK YOU GUYS FOR THE SUPPORT!! <3 (This was posted so late oml) This bad boy has been cooking in my drafts for close to a year and a half it feels like, it is very much burnt to a crisp. Thank you anon who asked me about King meeting another of his race! This would not be here without you <3

Also, sorry for the grammar mistakes, English isn't my first language.

word count: 8.9k

Warnings: incorrect cultural description(?)/practices(?), Self-harm(Burns), Imprisonment, Timeline is a mess don't come at me.

( The Land of a Demon )

Onigashima is an intimidating island; the smell of ash penetrates every corner of the scene where a battlefield will unfold. There are no flowers to add color to the brown mud and grey rocks, no snowflakes to grace the island or land on the red mist. The only thriving presence is the skull, where the fire emanates—the lair of a wrongdoer rotting and resting in this sinful place.

The skull, or rather, the rock resembling a creature much like the one on Thriller Bark—Oars, to be exact—was its name. But even he, the Junior, paled in comparison to the Skull Dome. No human could have sculpted it; giants, maybe, but even then, there are doubts.

It was formidable for you to step into the den of a beast earlier than expected, where you would be alone and defenseless. The dreadful aura the place is emitting is fitting for an Emperor of the sea. The deeper you went, the lighter you felt, the fearsome and overwhelming feeling was replaced by the intimidating, and may I say, strict walls you can find in the Wano Kuni, or the Flower Capital to be more exact, the only thing Onigashima lacks is the malnourishment that comes with Shoguns' rule, the exhausted faces of workers, the food prices and the dirtied outskirts. The separation of morals between the Wano Kuni and Onigashima shows clearly in the environment, it's like stepping into a completely different world, detached by the innocent victims who got birthed in this tangle of knotted rope, a mess, a sculptor done masterfully by manipulators of different social hierarchies. It's an art piece that took lives. A work in progress.

Their happiness depends on us. The ones who took it in the first place. The pirates.

We are the only people who bleed flames and light up the shadowed space that is Wano.

Soon.

...Soon.

After the worrying incident of the crew splitting apart yet again to get Sanji back and despite your worries for the polite cook- you were among the majority who continued traveling toward Wano. The plan was for you to become a Geisha working alongside Robin to get selected by the Shogun, but at last, the paths split and here you were in the den of beasts.

There was little chance of concealing your true identity in Wano; the absence of hair dyes posed a challenge. However, with strategic tying, the Obi belt effectively concealed the main factors that could give you away. The uncomfortable sensation is so familiar that you've learned to master not showing the everlasting pain on your face. The lightened makeup applied by the elderly further masks your skin, with red lips complementing your Obi and velvety gloves. The black hue of your flower kimono, snug tightly to your legs, hinders your pace, restraining you from keeping up with other women who, despite being more nervous, are less experienced in the field of treachery. Tonight, it will be challenging to differentiate professionals from novices, and you vow to take advantage.

The occasionally beautiful scenery inside the castle fails to comfort you amidst the fast-beating hearts; it is unsettling. The empty halls, guided by one of Kaido's puppets, make everyone dizzy with the maze-like walls—plain, hard to remember its turns.

In what way did the he turn last time?

The candles dwindle in plain sight as the floor creaks, accommodating the heavy steps of someone on the other side of the hallway. The sound becomes more vivid as it picks up pace, running past your group from the other side of the wall, capturing the attention of a soldier who turns and continues guiding with an anxious face.

It's only when the others, approximately ten pairs of feet, follow suit that you realize the commotion beside the separation. Judging by the soldier's expression, it seems to be a normal occurrence. However, you do not halt your steps; you continue to motionlessly follow, much like a sheep. It turns out the other women have the same idea.

There's an Oni free of its cage.

Debris falls from the shaking ceiling onto your shoulders. You wipe the black fabric clean, huffing as you quicken your pace, gently pushing the ladies to make way. The man, with spiky brown hair, takes another turn to the right this time.

``Sir, how far are you going to make us walk? Do you want us to be gasping for breath when we entertain our customers?`` You ask in a monotone voice, the impatience underlines your words, while your facial expression is the same as the one you entered with.

The soldier angles his neck to look up at you before his expression turns sour.

Lazy sons of bitches are too tired to answer a simple question. Tsk.

Your eye twitches as you await his answer. Not minding the spooked expressions of the ladies.

``Just above this floor.``

You only take your eyes off of him when the dark wood stairs come into view. It's been twenty years since the Beast Pirates invaded Wano Kuni and the history of Onigashima, they left a mark that will be impossible to remove. The residue of red that has maintained its place on the stairs is proof of that, who knows how many more illicit and barbaric things this place... This Country has witnessed. Who knows how many more will be lost.

Yet, people ignore it for their safety, geisha act no differently, even if they feel the warmth of a body no longer on the bottom of their okobo, they don't look down. For their security. Though you seem to be unable to look up, whoever the unfortunate victim was, you wish them a peaceful afterlife.

You hold in what anger you have, clenching your fists onto the sides of your kimono. There will come a time for you to spill it.

Soon.

...Soon.

A dreadful feeling emanates within the group, snapping you out of your daydreams. You didn't mean to get lost in your head, but the moment you let the fabric loose, the double door opens, and the women hurry their way to spots alongside every wall, unhappiness settling in their guts. They put their knees onto the soft purple cushions. Your eyes travel over the shamisen lying beside the cushion you were supposed to rest on. The three-stringed instrument you pick up seems to be brand new—unused and unprepared. However, even as you fix the strings, you feel relieved. Kyo Mai is a slow dance with complicated steps, and your confined wings always disturb your enactment. You were supposed to play the instrument and stay hidden among the performers, even with your snow-white hair and height.

The door opens right after everybody picks up their fans, you hid away in the background with the shamisen now in the proper hold.

(Away from the intimidating aura the girls seem to be spooked of. They don't break under the pressure. They repeat what was practiced.)

Here they come.

The All-Stars.

( Eyes That Follow )

From the three goliaths that were sitting and having an exchange, you've decided that Queen was the worst out of all of them. His immense and twisted pride shows even during his interactions with the women currently swarming his sides, the sadism that chokes the air out of every woman doesn't reach the beasts.

He calls it... “Flirting” it's not obvious to the naked eye but the girls feel uncomfortable, even when they smile, you can tell. It's for survival they smile. It's for survival they nod their heads as Queen throws compliments at a woman who isn't here. Komurasaki.

You feel sorry for the girl, to have Queen captivated was horrifying. You hold hope that Komurasaki will never meet him in person, even as your eyes continue to wander over Queen, for he, even if the filthiest of the All-Stars, was the most social one. A star scientist. It's when Queen starts practicing his singing talent that one of them calls.

``Oi.``

You straighten up. From on top Jack, The Drought looks down at you.

``Could you start the music already?`` His unreacting eyes only leave your face when you answer with an apology. It was obvious he was trying to silence Queen.

As you pull the shamisen closer to your body, you can hear the blond's offended complaints soon be replaced by the excitement when he realizes the Geishas' standings.

``Well, aren't you a beauty with white hair of yours, musician? Though no one will beat my Komurasaki! That bastard Shogun! Such a shame.``

You aren't sure what he pulls out of his pocket—a paper of some kind? A picture. You thought maybe some information would leak out of their mouths, yet the only conversations you hear are Queen's complaints and praises towards the women. Lost in your own mind, studies continue to mix. Is Kaido awarding his men before the festival? It seems unlikely, but unfortunately, that might be the case.

As you begin the melody of "Crane Wedding," there isn't another noise except Queen's malicious giggles interrupting you. That is until the sounds of squeaking leather picks up in the trapped room. You fix your eyes on the instrument while somebody else's eyes drill into your face, past your cosmetics and the flawless kimono. They don't move from your face; in fact, you might even think they are staring past your soul. You can feel their eyes travel to your neck, covered by the geisha's makeup. They stare, and you don't dare to look up meet meet them.

The pleasant music of yours doesn't halt as a geisha brings in the food, throwing a quick and nervous glance your way, but soon she too turns towards one of the three men who called her, leaving you alone with that crushing stare. The time stretches along with the performance; the short melody now feels like a loop of endless tactics put together. Lovely notes turn into a disgusting mess of mud inside your mind, plugging your ears and forcing you to hear the way your heart speeds up, noticing his eyes cling onto the darker color not peeking from under the makeup. You're nervous, as are the dancing geisha, whose only audience is Queen at this point. It's soon when the second, heavy pair of eyes turn towards you, but this one is much quicker to leave you be.

That must have been Jack.

King. He's the one that continues to stare.

The corner of your lips twitches after the realization. You try to keep away from falling and dissecting below his gaze. It lasts even after the dance was finished, his red eyes hold you hostage for the most part, even when you get up and do what your teacher, a sweet old lady has taught you.

It's fear, not of him, but rather afraid of him finding out what no outsider should know.

It's doubt, he is doubting you. Suspecting you, yet he asks no question. He only stares you down like a predator when you finally meet his crimson eyes. Your (E/C) eyes reflect his fully leathered top half.

You aren't afraid of him, no you can't be, you've faced many opponents in your 25 years of living, and you've gone through the suffering even the strongest men cannot withstand.

You are a Straw hat.

You are part of a future Pirate Kings crew. You cannot be intimidated by a mere second in command. You hold your head up high.

It turns out to be the right action that causes him to back down slowly, surely you are let go from the muddy waters.

( Eye to Eye )

The sunrise began as Jack got up, and soon Queen followed him. After his callouts to King, who threw an audible shut-up in his way but did not move from the spot he was standing, Queen wasn't convinced until Jack bulldozed through the door opening and intentionally dragged Queen out of the way.

The poker face you've kept up so far slips when King calls every woman out of the room except you. You can feel Haki building its way through your veins, but you don't jump to conclusions, even as he gets closer to you with a towering height difference, his latex and bands stay unmelted when the fire on his back explodes, little sparks jumping towards you, who is by now trapped between the wall and the giant. You can feel the hot sparks on your clothing land and extinguish themselves, The conclusion is slow beneath his red eyes that are staring at you so angrily, any other emotion so hard to read beneath the mask that thoroughly covers every part of his body, the folded black wings are no exception.

Besides blocking your means of escape, he has yet to do anything physically, the temperature in the room rises with how fast the heat is produced on his back. The fire is so familiar you might even get lost in it, in the old times, when fewer shit stains were roaming the planet. It makes you sweat underneath all the tight clothes you're wearing, especially on your back where the wings have started to ruffle, trying to let some air into its layers to no avail.

You wish you had talent in observation haki to determine what he was going to do next.

You flinch when his right arm raises from where it slept beside his thighs, it slowly gets closer to your frozen form, even if you try to lean away, there is no point, you realize. You are tall, but as both of you stand beside each other, He towers over you, but his intention isn't to intimidate you. The instinct is your strong suit and your weakest point.

You can feel the leather wipe away at your excessive makeup, from your cheek to your platysma his hand travels with a heavy heart on its sleeve.

If King was anyone other than King, you would have slapped it away.

If only he didn't share traits you are so familiar with.

If only you didn't share traits he is so familiar with.

You can feel the cosmetics dragging and staining his gloves, wiping away half of your disguise easily, thanks to the heat, he keeps a note of your half-disguised face with calculating... Wide eyes. The other half of your face, one that stayed untouched, must be melting.

It's the shaky puffs of air released from his mask that gives him away, the sudden rise in temperature in an already hot room, it must almost be 40°C, yet he does not budge.

Is he relieved...? Enthusiastic much...?

Not a word is said when he takes his arm away, now covered in white. You can see the way the pupils shake, you are sure he can see yours too, the furrowed brows and slightly parted lips of yours must be a giveaway.

The wings.

The eternal inferno.

A laugh escapes in the room-turned-oven, a nervous laugh of a feminine voice. You must be in shock to have fallen so low. Not even trying are you?

In a world that ought to hunt your kind down, to exterminate the past, the world that succeeded in destroying your kind, you don't feel alone. Or... You will no longer.

In the fervor, the mask comes off, leaving his sweat-covered face uncovered for you to see.

(``What tells that you are the only survivor?`` King used to ask himself back in his younger years before he made it clear how erroneous that question was, not to mention unlikely. It a proof of his childish innocence and the improvement. If more of his kind existed, they would be in the hands of the Government, doing god knows what to them. It always made the locked space of memories in his subconscious bubble up and boil over in quiet rages and liquor-companied nights. As he looks at your somewhat clean face, he is comforted by the pitiless thought that, by some luck, someone else managed to survive the hell he also went through. He wishes he could feel at ease, but he has to be sure. He has to eliminate every doubt in his mind.)

It's not out of intimacy and lust that he asks an inappropriate question to your calmed self about stripping. The surprised look in your eyes indicates a misunderstanding of his intentions. It's only mutual trust that guides him to do what he does next. Slowly but surely, he tries to pull his mask off, letting the tight piece tug at his scalp as he sets his hair free. Only when the temperature doesn't change, even when his skin feels the air, does he let the fire return to its original size.

King The Wildfire, only looks down at your complicated emotions. Even if he does not remember the company of his people, he would truly be a fool not to recognize his own biology. Though he doesn't hold onto hope, suspicion still lingers in his red eyes. It differs from your beaming laugh full of shallow happiness, representing more of a nervous tick than anything. It's been so long since he has heard a laugh not accompanied by sadistic undertones—exploiter gifters who dared to approach him—and the liquor Kaido keeps so close during his episodes.

``... I apologize for the heat."

You smile with somewhat shocked eyes looking up at him. ``...You know, it's been a while since I've felt the excitement of my kind.`` a nervous sigh you let out lead the conversation.

`` you don't have to apologize.``

``Yes... I-`` He has forgotten many unique reflexes with time. For this instance, it doesn't pains him. Every day he forgets what distinguishes the instincts of Lunarians, for he feels less of his kind.

He counts it as a sin, a shameful part of adulting, a side effect of having to live among the likes of Kaido's men, therefore his choice.

You acknowledge his position with his back turned to the door, sitting down cross-legged as he mentions for you to do the same. You obey, his wings hovering over you and hiding your figure from the outside world.

He asks once more to turn your back to him. You try to find any joke to fit in the thick air of nervous glances, but you find none. The unconscious mutual loyalty the both of you have towards one another is born by the shared traits, of family. Of shared pain.

You take the Obi belt in your hands and off of your waist.

He has many questions he cannot get out of his mouth, but for now, he keeps quiet. He is sure you have no intention of reliving the hell on earth that is the past.

You turn your back to a beast with the pattern of a face on its back.

As you take the black fabric of your kimono off, layer by layer the cold bites at your wet body, and the salty smell lets out into the heated air, though none of you care for the odor. You drop the kimono just below your belly button and let the relief that comes with letting your wings flex and take hold.

With a fast-beating heart, King watches.

It's in a haze that he reaches out to your back, his fingers connecting to the shoulders where the wings come from, sending a shiver down your sweat-covered spine, they're smaller he thinks, more fragile than him, though there is no difference in the power of flame and healing when it comes to genders. She could make them bigger when required. They aren't fragile, they are as powerful as his, but the size difference makes it easy to tickle his instincts, long forgotten and left in the past, starving for attention. His hands run over your coracoid, trying to find the place where the feathers meet the skin, attempting to find the evidence that you are real.

He barely hears your name, caught in the view of the wings turning from black to dark blue at different angles. Though he doesn't answer, he has already shown you enough of himself, it is no longer essential. King will do just fine.

The wings are erogenous, however, even if you shiver under the sensitive touches, no lust taints the special moment between the survivors.

``(Y/N).`` you spell out your name.

By instinct, his fire becomes ablaze when his hand sneaks up your humerus, lingering touches ruffling your feathers as the fire licks at your ungroomed wing. It lights the reflective white strands of hair that escaped from Geiko Shimada. The warmth on your back is comforting to the point where you lean your wings into it. Finally, you light the eternal flame, his hand engulfed in your flames goes undamaged. It extracts and attracts the fire from his hand into the center of your spine, causing the fire to grow and spread onto your wing feathers.

Looking back you're met with what you would call, a confused face of King whose features have been caught in the yellow glow of a fire that you are able to control.

King only stares at your almost nude form with a wrinkle of thought between his eyebrows.

( Guard )

In the way King shelters you, with him beside you and you hidden in the massive wing as he walks into his chambers, you would be wrong if you said you aren't anxious. Happy but skeptical. You doubt he'll hurt you, but the mask locking away his facial structures works as an intimidation factor.

The click of a lock on his door is the only sound that disturbs the silence. Now you are in his territory, his nest.

``King?`` you turn around to look at him.

``Where did you come from.`` It's scary how quickly and unnoticeably he changes his mood. But it is probably because the enthusiasm has passed and questions have started to surface, what you thought to be a nice welcome, turns into icy bars locking you out of your getaway, just like earlier. His red eyes leave a permanent mark on your (E/C) ones.

Where did you come from. that's not a question. Questions don't make you feel as if the warmth has left your body and sent shivers down your spine. They don't drag you down the lone caves and lock up your respiratory system.

Questions aren't meant to stop time. But the way both of you aren't moving, they might as well.

You have to be careful with every word and syllable you mutter. ``I've come fro-``

``How are you alive.``

``I-``

You barely have time to finish your answers before he's asking another one, slowly he steps toward you. In the dark, his leather shines, but as you take another step back you cannot help but glance at his wings. How the moonlight seems to bend with each curve of his feathers, sinking into the crevices and lightening them up in a blue hue, similar to you, but unlike the yellow glow, King's replaced by the white. You can't help but be deprived.

There is only one sentence that is louder than the rumble coming from within him. The declaration you acknowledge within all the noise clogging your ears.

You don't feel the suffocation of this situation, nor do you hear King's voice anymore. The pressure (Despite the windows being open) comes from the claustrophobic chamber. Your wings stay close to your back. The masked face looks down on your kimono, his pupils have seemed to freeze on your form, and the angry aura that he emits is all but a facade of defense. His jaw is moving but all you can hear is a rumble that pours out deep from his chest, it's incredibly loud yet deaf to the ears of normal humans, the volume that should shake walls only quiver your brain.

The moonlight seems to cage you in, showing your footsteps to a starved predator, it's the devil's eye that replaces the moon, with red pupils that stare you down. He overshadows your form, sending warnings throughout your system-

The possessiveness only sends shivers down your spine.

(Fight or flight?)

From somewhere far away, a boy with a straw hat on his face lifts his head from where it's laying in a hammock, letting the yellow straws that are incapable of being split slowly drop onto his bandaged chest. The rough feel of the same material wraps around his forehead trapping a few black strands of hair with it.

He grumbles, the ache in his limbs starting to become much more obvious, with half-lidded eyes Luffy looks up from the opening of the hammock, letting his head peek over at the sleeping skeleton currently knocked out in the same way Luffy was supposed to be.

Something's happening.

He is sure of it, but with grogginess biting away his consciousness, he has no energy left to chase after that feeling, he turns his stiff body the other way, peeking from the left he comes face to face with the man who is a family member in all but blood, who he got back just a few hours ago.

He smiles and lies back down, from the position he is in, a window the size of his head stays open, it shows the moon and the stars twinkling their way into existence.

He wonders what others must be up to, are they watching the moon with him? Basking in its glow like a tiger?

He hates that he has to keep them waiting, but it was necessary.

Soon.

...Soon he'll be there.

Wait for him... A little more!-

( Domain )

There's something cataclysmic lurking in the walls of his chambers, causing your ears to bleed. The shackles rattle loudly next to your helix as you scratch at your ear, only making the headache worse. The heavy pull of sea stone brings down your mood. Rough exterior already leaving its mark on your hands

The mirror rests across the bed, compelling the disheveled mess of yourself to face the view. Hair strands fall on the sides of your face, greasy with gel, and your face—oh God, your face—appears smudged, as if the color is melting away. The swollen eyes that signal a newly awakened person squint to see your reflection.

The clothes are still on your body despite being passed out on the enormous bed of a murderer, a killer, and a tyrant's sidekick last night. Another ridiculous error to add to the imaginary board.

Back when King unleashed the color of the Supreme King on your cornered self you didn't dare fight back, and the shackles were here in the form of consequence to your conclusion.

The room was dark, with the only source of light being the window next to the mirror. The bars on the outside really make you feel at home. The decor set a scene suggesting no man had ever lived there. Occasional scratches marked the floor, and the specially modified bed, along with what you could only guess was a closet, were all tailored to fit his taste. Gothic undertones and a taste reminiscent of some old king's private quarters defined his preferences. You could barely discern the detailing on the bed and the strangely designed closet colored in black and gold. The dominating dark blue swallowed any light that entered the room, and there was a door to your left, likely leading to the bathroom.

The quiet morning was disturbed by the entrance of King, he stands in front of the same door you remember entering last night.

You feel quite disgusted.

``I didn't expect you to be awake.`` For a moment before you passed out, you didn't either.

The uneasy eyes meet kings' as time stills. Dragging out the undesirable connection. It only serves to tug your heart down to your gut. The happy moment, the relief and sorrow for the past nothing but a distant memory in the dark shadows of a realm not your own.

He moves closer to your bed, hands dropping what seems to be extra clothes near your feet. The man doesn't flinch as you push your legs closer to your torso and away from him. The rejection is disregarded.

``You should change.`` Carefully you nod your head.

``The bathroom is over there.``His stern voice shakes the weak walls of your mind as he turns his back on you before walking over to the entrance.

You can't help but let out a shaky breath as the door is locked and you're left alone with thoughts you can not connect no matter how hard you try, it only serves to make tremors run up your spine and into your fingertips, it's a dread invading a carefully maintained flesh you tried to protect with the hands of a child once. The deep noise your restraints produce was nothing but a ghost of your past just a couple of days ago. The weight on your wrists burns. The crackle is deafening and bone-shaking. There's no one else to hear you.

``... I need...`` Time to think, to process. Your lips shiver.

The soft white walls are nothing but an illusion. You wonder if the blue-colored room of a beast is a delusion.

The eyes and the goggles flash before you, white coats accompanied by bloodlust run over your thoughts.

Breathe.

You push your knees off of the bed, sweat traveling down your face, the cold is in no way a comfort.

The warm water is what tempts you to tread the wooden floor.

( Lone Wolf )

The water is hot against your skin as the shower head lets the boiling droplets escape freely from the metal, and steam coats the world in the lightest tints. King brings the ache you've long forgotten existed ever since the smile of a boy with the straw hat lit your life full of shadow. You wish you could be happy in the burning downpour, you deserve it, however, the inferno on your back heals the drawbacks, leaving no trace of your accomplishments which took more than a couple of burns to earn.

And you wonder what have you done to earn this.

The happiness of no longer carrying the guilt was relieving, even if it lasted for a couple of minutes.

As a little lady you would wish for a knight to come and take you away to the land of dreams, make the walls just a bit more colorful and alive in the world that burns dreams. The warm hands would he have, the soft look and the shine in his eyes, the wings on his back, and the fire that would put the sun to shame with its flames. The honey on his lips and the daisies in your hair.

The desires were harmless, they gave you hope, something a human would have.

(You can still taste the metal. You can feel the debris fall and you hear their landing making the ground of pure white shake.

Your instincts would only let you run. Would only make you avoid the black broken bricks covered in glitter. Shining green from the light and smoke.

You have no idea what exploded. You won't want to know.

That night, the girl left that place and its guards to be doomed into oblivion.

That night, a knight was left without his princess.)

The sizzling sound you feel is draining you of the energy you might need, it's a waste yet the fire on your back regenerates the lost skin again, again and again. Until you give in and stop the shower, only for the shackles to be felt around your hands. Your wings are open, fully on display.

Sensing the burns in your bones, you wonder what would have happened if you were more close to the explosion of the past, wonder if it would have been better as the water droplets fall from your wet face.

It's fairer than facing the reality that complicates the fragile string of truths once again.

Hands clenched into fists and fire growing ever hotter on your back, you wonder if you are patient enough for this, no longer does a little girl await for saving. She doesn't need to anymore. Someone else might.

It brings up a question. Can you be the light needed for one's darkest times?

You walk out of the shower with a hot back and bloody palms, the fire burns brightly above the feathers. You can only hope to fuel it forever. You keep the wings close, your captor closer.

No longer will you be truly alone.

( Purity )

If there's one thing you've learned as a child, it's that they aim for the stars, with no plan in mind and ambition in their belly, only a brave few truly make it into the sky and those who could not are left with clipped wings and broken dreams. Fragile to the point they crash onto the soil and shatter, never to be put together again.

It makes you proud that your captain never crashed down, that his wings were never clipped, you're sure that the thoughtlessness was enough to boost him to reach beyond the stars.

Before, you wondered if you were able to grab onto the lights that looked down on you during the night. Now you live to see it come true.

However, where you succeeded some failed.

And so King came crashing down with the one who put his wings back together, feather by feather, vigorous and more dreadful than ever.

He split the skies until it cried.

You refuse to allow him to recite Kaidou's doing to you. Day after day in the dark and cold chamber, your fire brightens the dark and continuously burns on your back, never once diminishing.

Nobody is allowed that pleasure.

( Prison )

Getting used to a closed environment comes naturally, as much as you hate to admit it. The dim walls are a new addition to your view, which is no longer full of white coats and a bright enclosure. The heavy shackles are much harder to familiarize with.

In a cold chamber time moves fast.

Your only interaction with the outside world is King, dark and broody, full of confidence and gentleness, he treats you as if you're fragility itself. You won't beg for a way out, you never did, humiliation over naught is an intense feeling to swallow. He's careful with his words, careful in the way he acts and reconnects with his instincts right by your side.

Day after day his visits keep a consistent schedule, with two plates of food and loneliness in his belly he strives to spend breakfast, lunch, and dinner together with you, speaking only a few words of insight. There's fire on your back yet, it does nothing to protect you from the coldness he brings. Wings stay close to your back, never truly opening in the cage. The words he says don't carry the weight of a man born for death.

One wants to lower your walls while shackling you with his, to the point that the invisible distance strains you, he is full of drought and he craves to end the famine.

Time passes and the longer you ignore the elephant in the room, the heavier its weight on your shoulders grows. You destruct yourself for a question you're not ready to hear the answer to. The pressure leads to an opening to form.

It's said in an outlandish way, heart swelling with numbness and hate tingling your fingers. Your eyes stare onward, beyond the figure meeting them.

``What are you achieving?`` Why have you caged me? Weren't you in my position once upon a time?

It stops him dead in the tracks. His eyes don't widen yet his mouth does in a way that seems robotic. The air stills, only the noise of crackling fire could be heard, heavy and rich with the enigma the man was created to be.

Why did you choose kaidou?

You want to ask.

``...Nothing. I achieve nothing.`` you ignore the strict undertone and drink the tea he brought not too long ago. It conceals the wary gulp.

``I would never have taken you for a liar.`` An intense sound is created as he slices the distance between you two with his flight, black wings ajar. a sharp feather rests near your throat. You have to be attentive. Careful to not snap the thick rope that holds his pieces together.

Blood seeps out of the cut.

``Why do you wish for death?``

``You could have murdered me the night we met.`` It's too late for your soul to perish. His reasoning for keeping you alive is clear to you.

His hand, clenching the root of a dangerously pointed feather shakes with the conflicted emotion.

Your back lights and the cut is healed.

He cannot do it, not to his kind. With a quiet grunt, King backs off to leave the chamber, his feather crumbled and abandoned on the cold wood.

Every night is spent alone on a bed made for your kind, it's just that this night feels full of plain dismay and sorrow.

The past does not visit tonight.

( The Other Side )

Your words penetrate him, though he doesn't indicate. The conversation is buried in the depths of ash, fire blooms inside of him, it rages and burns, and wherever he steps the smoke trails after him.

``Haven't you walked the same path?``

His subordinates are seated around a large table, smiles and crevices on their face.

``Do you not know darkness?``

He does. He is intimate with it.

``The hopelessness of being someones plaything?``

He can feel the heat of the past catching up to him, engulfing him in the ball of flame and strapping him on a table. He knows how it feels to be burned to oblivion, the only peace he has known. Words of madness leave his lips, everyone, including himself knows that it's empty threats, for he stands on the other side of the glass. Nothing but a guinea pig

``I know that you know it too. We walked the same path.``

He would have grabbed anyone's hand if only they reached out. It just so happened that he grabbed someone who could change the world, for the better or for worse.

He looks at the barren wasteland of Onigashima.

Was it truly a choice when your options were between freedom and its absence?

He finds that time flies swiftly when sailing. It halts when on the land.

(He has never belonged to either.)

``Why do you recite history?``

He comes to a conclusion, one of selfishness and fear. Clenched fist heats up, he does not pay attention to the rising temperature.

He craves his kind. The hopelessness is the reason he captured you.

His teeth grind against one another. He isn't on the level of humans, his superior biology won't let him stoop that low, but he finds that mentally, he and them are cut from the same cloth. Other's consequences directed him to repeat what he feared.

The thought has long since passed.

King finds it hard to care about them.

But you are entirely foreign. He can taste the smoke of Punk Hazard.

You try again and again. Lightly scratching at the metaphorical walls of him until your hands grab his heart softly, ripping the veins and staining your hands with his blood.

Your mouth only forages for the food King fetches. He wonders about you and the possibilities of it all until the voice he has gotten used to brings him back to earth, you do nothing to cushion his fall, only stalling his drop with words he feels entirely uncomfortable to understand. For the reason that he had no one to share it with.

``There's a saying about them`` You say, looking oblivious with the plate resting on your knees, mouth cooling down the food.

``A man is wolf to man.`` He gets it, King is sure he will hear your voice saying it whenever the existence of The Celestials get brought up.

``I'm glad you aren't one.``

For a moment King thinks about the blood he spilled, the curses his shoulders withstand and the beginning of it all, the things he has seen himself do, and replies.

``I could say the same.``

You can see his face, swatted with shadows even without the mask, crack, and the hidden comfort dawns on his face.

The soup in your hands is warm like the sunlight, the mask he gripped whenever entering the room rests on the bed, no longer present in his claws.

A path reveals itself to the two of you.

(There's a flower that blooms only in cold surroundings, It feeds from the ground and awaits the warmth of the sun, from the grey clouds and falling snow, the light peeks through.)

( No Regrets )

Through the window, you can smell the madness in the air, it's evident in the way King comes in while the walls around you shake with the rhythms of Queen's performance.

Your heart follows along with the melody without your consent. After all, there is not much to do with the man that you have come to accept. The walls are nothing against the booming voice of a man too loud and apathetic. But within the confines of the castle, the tense atmosphere can be felt with the help of King. Every step he takes and grunt that follows brings forth his thoughts and instincts, there's something in the air. Teetering on the edges of your mind.

The Lunarian gets closer to you, finally reaching down to your level. For minutes he stares at you, taking in your features as if you'd disappear. The leather flexes as his left-hand holds your wrist.

The red eyes don't move away. Neither do yours.

The metal spikes on his mask gleam. His eyes tell a story as his head drops down, gloved fingers sliding over the rough material of your cuffs.

Time is ticking, and you are waiting for him to succumb to temptation and finally make a move for both's sake.

King's face tilts up with a heavy sigh in tow to look at you, only for a soft smile to greet him. The cuffs are warm around your skin and cold to the room.

After all, the sun speaks of your captain's arrival.

It doesn't take many days for King to return with the key in between his fingers and no fire on his back. Your smile greets his eyes, and the knowing grin settles on your dark skin, yet the maliciousness is nowhere to be found between your lips.

Ever since his release, King has never felt at peace, perhaps he can only close the distance.

(A glimpse of sunlight was all the flower needed to rise from the frozen land.)

The heavy cuffs harshly meet the floor.

( Reunion )

The smoke is filling your lungs, the familiarity making your heart clench and bring forth a cough. The walls are stained with blood, but you don't dwell on it. Instead, you let the sounds of battle lead your wings; feeling the air make way for you is a sensation missed. The chunks of limbs and lifeless bodies are nothing but a blur in your vision. The battle has long begun, and your release from the King's chamber is far too late.

A cunning smile flashes in your mind, long black hair, and rosy cheeks decorate the memory.

``Better late than never.`` Her composed voice would say, accompanied by her icy and all-knowing stare.

Suddenly, a blue light shines through the castle wall ahead, accompanied by the noise of a gigantic object impacting from the other side. With a single flap of your wings, you pick up speed, aiming to breach the barrier. Your tough feathers shield your body as you slam into and shatter the wall's material. Unscathed, your eyes adjust to the bright figure standing on your left, emanating a stunning light that brings life to its surroundings, leaving your eyes wide. You notice a trail of smoke to your right.

You get a better look at him as the surroundings clear up.

``S-Sanji?!`` You feel quite happy to know that his issue has been resolved, judging from the way his face brightens and stands on the ground of Wano's borders. Although he always lights up near the opposite sex.

``(Y/N)-Chan?!`` His matted blond hair is a detail you only notice with the advanced eyesight your kind seems to possess. The bloody lip and his bruised forehead made him quite a sight. Although the swelling is nowhere to be seen.

You can try to make the words of delight resurface in your mouth, it's always nice to let others know of your feelings, though sometimes it sure gets hard to pull them out from the bottom of your heart.

``I'm glad to see you here!`` it lets the burden on your shoulders lighten.

Sanji responds the way you except him to.

``(Y/N)-Chwaaan!!~♡ It's been so long since I last saw you!`` No longer able to contain the love in his body, the hearts burst from his very soul. Happiness fuels his wiggly movements. ``Oh, how I missed you!~``

A large smile stretches your lips, dry as a desert. ``It's nice to have you back!-``

You could have said more, but the time has already run out.

There's water leaking from the floor above, a loud shriek is heard and your back is met with a cold, menacing look from who seems to be Sanji's opponent.

The reflexes kick in, sinking into your veins, moving you out of the threat of a mechanism falling on top of you.

You'r gaze falls on the Beast. His eyes meet yours.

There's a glimmer of familiarity in his eye.

``Out of the way!`` Sanji's yell warns before the foe swings his oversized arms once more.

The amount of force needed for your wings to fly backward is more than necessary, though the opponent's swings seem to be getting swift at every dodge, the heat produced on your back strengthens your arms and then fists, and you look for an opening to get one hit in, but for a second you can see the furious blue eyes tell you his whole story, the desperation of a man becoming more clear to recognize...

You decide that this is not your battle... The heat is diminished.

( A Change )

The short encounter with the cook was not for naught, his instructions led you directed to a stadium full of warriors ready to risk their lives for a nation that has only its history to live for.

Within enemies, there are familiar faces mixed in, who are also fighting alongside you. With Kaido fighting Luffy and Sanji taking on Queen, it's only logical to assume that the first mate would go for the top of the food chain.

There's so much to do, yet the responsibility does not intimidate your kind.

You're left to protect the survivors of a war already won.

The aftermath was nothing more than a reunion for your crew.

( Hello )

The victory comes and brings midnight with it, cheers and smiles bloom on the warriors' faces as you breathe heavily, and everyone starts to tend to their wounds, burns and deep slashes are nothing compared to what they've achieved. Pirate crews are no exception, they rest and gain the energy they'll need for the morning, until then it seems that you're the only one with stamina left.

The fire on your back grows small until it vanishes completely.

Of course, after Kiado's defeat, warriors took advantage of the weakened Beast Pirates and imprisoned those who could still stand, albeit their dreams were and still are drowning in pieces far too small to see or collect. It's evident that they hold no hope for the future.

But there's a link connecting you to one of them.

You walk near the exit door, watching as men talk among each other and discuss their next step, whatever that may be. Your semblance to that man does not get mentioned by anyone after all, they have not seen his face, but the single glance from Zoro as he stayed awake for 5 seconds is enough for you to tense up, you wonder when it will be brought up. Zoro might have fallen asleep but your heart stayed heavy next to him.

It's a dangerous idea you have, suspicious even, though they must understand, Luffy's intelligence, Nami's smile, Robins's knowledge, Usopp's understanding nature, Chopper's innocent outlook, Franky's family ties, Brook's dedication, Sanji's acceptance, and Zoro's strict attitude. If a word got out, you'd have to face your friends, have to rip a bandaid off of an old wound and hold in a cry. You just have to wonder when?

Yet you still head towards the Udon Prison, consequences last in your mind, the night sky looks down upon you, the stars begging you to go back, however the dark clouds hide them away.

The night air feels nice on your skin, even as you stand above the walls keeping in the Beasts. You can tell that no one is awake, exhaustion haunts the air as you leap down on the dry ground. Mad Scientist Queen is lying face down, covered in bandages that soil the dirt underneath him red, you're glad that his snores are loud enough to hide your wings' shuffling.

The sudden chill runs up your spine and alerts your senses, face tilting sideways, you look at a disheveled man standing over you from behind.

``Hello again, King.`` He thinks of your eyes and how beautiful they look under the moonlight. Your beauty would put Luna to shame.

Your greeting is dismissed.

``Why are you here?`` His dry mouth can barely open to question you.

``To see you of course.`` This time he keeps his mouth shut. Yet his eyes observe your appearance, the dirt, and blood that soaks your Kimono.

To see him after a loss, in a state such as this is a crime that would be punished by death. You're the only exception to the rule that didn't exist yesterday.

``Let's take a seat.`` He hasn't even noticed you move into the center of the prison, too busy trying to keep all the blood inside his body to not flat-line. The bandages are not doing much, and the fire he used in his battle has extinguished itself. All his strength was used up and you wish to see him in this state? There are no words left for him to speak, so he takes the seat next to you. His knee touches yours, the intimacy is foreign.

``This calls for a celebration, don't you think? I grabbed us some booze.``

The liquor bottle nudges him and he takes it with no complaints. The reasoning for others' celebration is obvious, dethroning an emperor is a big feat for anybody.

``After all, a God has awakened.`` King knows.

His eyelids are closed yet he can see the vague silhouette of JoyBoy, the godly form only brings bitterness to his tongue, so he tries to drown it with the smoky taste of beer, which accomplishes little.

``I was mistaken.`` with Kaidou. Regret fills him.

He isn't angry at his loss as much as he is irritated.

``You were.`` The moonlight shines down on both of you. The silence is deafening, nothing but your heartbeats are heard.

``I was saved by that man.`` His head looks up at you, and each of his limbs freezes at the implication. The misery and hopelessness engulf the surroundings. He thinks about nothing except the straw hat with a red ribbon.

``I see... So you're apart of his family?``

``I am.`` the soft look in your eyes makes him envy you.

``...Are you happy?`` He doesn't know what he will do if you respond negatively. King already imprisoned you, took your independence, and chained you to him, yet you didn't burn out, How will he treat you?

``I am, were you not?`` with Kaidou? He doesn't have a straight answer, so he only responds with silence. This was a question he thinks you know the answer to.

It isn't until your hand grabs his cheeks that he opens his eyes in surprise, also realizing he closed them.

``What is that look?`` The strict tone in your voice is nostalgic. He tries to direct the conversation elsewhere, however his mind is flooded with the feeling of your warm hand on his face.

``The marines will come.``

``They'll come for you too, you know.`` You respond with the warning, the Navy isn't known for mercy after all, they'll go after the cause too.

``I don't want that... I don't... I don't want to be alone.`` You add, sheepish of your request, is it too much to ask? You have friends who you consider as family, but King is... Different.

King also does not want to be the sole survivor of his race, he has carried that burden for long enough and now that he had a taste of his people, he wishes to not go back.

``You won't be.`` It's the only promise he'll keep, for your sake and his.

For this, he will have to leave the prison.

``Stay alive for me.`` You beg and he complies.

It all starts with your wing enveloping his form, the soft heat from your contact, and the gentle touch of your fingers over his cheek.

( See You Later )

It ends with a promise and an escape into the night.

With you in the company of your friends on the Thousand Sunny.

And with him on top of a waterfall, watching with curious and intrigued eyes as he holds the leftover newspaper, the ship descends down the mountain and leaps into the ocean next to the koi fish.

He finds your smile now meters away, he gazes with a newfound meaning to his life.

#one piece #anime #king one piece #king the wildfire #king the conflagration #king the wildfire x reader #one piece x reader #one piece spoilers #wano arc #wano spoilers #wano kuni #one piece wano #beast pirates #.my writing.

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arcane-vagabond · 10 months ago

Text

Fool's Fare: Chapter Eight

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Captain Jake "Hangman" Seresin had come close to swinging from the gallows more times than he would care to admit. He's stolen, cheated, even killed. The worst thing he's ever done? Broken the heart of a woman. Having broken the heart of the woman whom Davy Jones himself had fallen for six years ago, Jake is now cursed to live as something not dead, but not alive. He's doomed to live a half-life for the rest of his existence unless he manages to obtain the treasure Davy Jones deems most valuable. The problem? He has no idea what it is, and he only had seven years to obtain it.

Content Warning: Cursing, Talks of a curse, Arguing, Feelings of Betrayal, Feelings of being used, Mentions of broken hearts, Verbal abuse (kinda), Mentions of death of a parent, Talk of the supernatural, Mentions of abandonment, Suicide mention, Reveals. I think that's it, but please let me know!

Word Count: 3.2k

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist

Guilt was almost never rational. It was the monster that crept into your emotions, turning sorrow into pain, anger into wrath. It didn’t care for things like logic or forgiveness. It fed on the destruction it created, leaving behind ruin and sometimes even catastrophe.

You felt guilty for the disappearance of your father. Maybe if you had begged him to stay that last day, had pleaded for him to not go like your instincts told you to, he would still be around and things would be better. Your mother would never have died of a broken heart, your brother wouldn’t be suffering the effects of a curse that were not his to bear, and the ache that lay inside your chest wouldn’t be throbbing from your conversation with Captain Jake Seresin of the Hangman.

Water lapped against the rowboat as two of the men pulled and pushed the oars through the water. You sat in between Mickey and Bradley, refusing to meet the gaze of the blond who sat across from you. His green eyes bore into your profile, willing you to turn and look at him, but you stubbornly looked out at the dark waters that surrounded you, the mist not allowing you to see very far, not that there was much to be seen.

Mickey fidgeted uncomfortably next to you as his gaze darted between you and the captain, his fingers tugging on his sleeves as he chewed on his bottom lip. You could feel Bradley’s eyes on you as well, drilling a hole into the back of you head. You let out an annoyed huff, tapping your foot gently against the floor of the boat as you crossed your arms.

You wished a rogue wave would come and swallow you whole.

The shore grew closer and closer with each passing moment, and soon the men around you were hopping out into the shallow waters, still eerily dark and murky despite being so close to land. Mickey and Bradley got out on either side of you followed by Jake and Javy, leaving you the last one to exit. You stood to get out, a hand coming into your line of sight. You paused to look at it before glancing up to see Jake still looking at you, eyes shining with something you couldn’t place. You scowled at him, batting his hand away and taking one step out of the boat and into the water. The sand shifted, causing you to stumble, and Jake’s hands wrapped around you to keep you steady. He helped you onto firmer ground before you pushed him away from you with a glare.

“I’m fine,” you snapped, brushing your clothes off, “I had it.”

“Sure you did,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off of you. His brow creased as he frowned, and you let out a huff, stomping over towards where Bradley and Mickey stood. His gaze lingered, but you didn’t turn look back at him, instead choosing to watch as the men dragged the boats further up onto the shore, weighing them down with nearby stones so that they wouldn’t float away once the tide came in.

It was then that you allowed yourself to look around, taking in the jungle scene around you.

Loud cries from the different birds sounded all around you, some squawking and others chirping as they hopped along the branches. You heard the chattering of other creatures as well, watching as shadows darted about above you as well as in the brush surrounding. The mist clung to your skin, and the air was surprisingly cool for what should be the tropics. Perhaps the ship had been blown farther off course than anyone had previously thought.

Rustling sounded from behind you, and you whirled around. Your hand flew to the sword that lay strapped to your side, unsheathing it a few inches as you waited for whatever was there to show itself. Your muscles tensed as more rustling sounded, the large leaves moving, and you sucked in a breath as your eyes widened, the creature revealing itself in one quick motion.

The sound of your sword unsheathing all the way and swinging in the air filled the small clearing, and Jake was met with the business end of the sharp weapon, tip stopping just shy of his chin. His own eyes widened as he stared at it, quickly darting up to meet yours. It took you a moment to process what was happening before you, and you scowled at him, lowering the sword and sheathing it once more as he let out a nervous chuckle.

“Little jumpy, huh Guppy?”

You ignored him, face still set into a scowl as you took a few steps around the clearing. A strange energy filled the air, one that set your heart hammering inside your chest and the blood in your veins zapping with energy. Your fingers twitched at your sides, everything becoming intense around you. The air started to feel almost suffocating, the noises becoming louder, the foliage becoming brighter. Your eyes darted around as an overwhelming sense of dread gripped you, your chest starting to rise and fall rapidly as the sensations grew. You took a few tentative steps around the clearing, willing the sensations to stop, to slow down. It was all so much.

“Guppy?”

A hand grabbed yours, and the steadiness of it grounded you. Your head whipped around to look at Jake, uncertainty coloring his features as he studied you. The colors faded back to normal, the sounds became quieter, and the energy swirling around you became less stifling. Your breathing returned to normal, and it was then that you realized that tears prickled at your lash line. You wiped them away quickly, clearing your throat and pulling away from the blond to inspect the far side of the clearing.

“Are you okay?” He pressed, taking a hesitant step towards you. You waved him off, schooling your features as you heard the sound of a river nearby.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, refusing to meet his eyes. Of course you were still mad at him, who wouldn’t be after what you found out in the cabin? He had been using you for months, getting closer to you only to relieve the effects of the curse that plagued him. He had wormed his way behind your walls and into your heart, and you hated him for making you care about him. You had been played for a fool, and the very thought had you clenching your fists with rage.

“Guppy, please-”

“What do you want from me?” You snapped, whirling around to face him, nostrils flaring and eyes blazing. “What? Are you upset that you let your little secret slip out? That I’m basically just some kind of pain relief for you, and that’s the only reason you’re interested in me at all?”

A frown tugged on his lips, brow pinched in distress as he shook his head.

“That’s not what I meant at all, sweet girl,” he murmured, stepping closer and reaching out a hand to you. You took a step back, face guarded as you watched him. He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair as he regarded you.

“Listen to me,” he said firmly, eyes set in determination as he finished crossing the distance between you two. He made no move to touch you, but you sucked in a breath at the proximity. “I know you think I’ve been using you, but I haven’t. If I wanted to use you, don’t you think I would have gone farther than we ever did? I know what I’m saying may not mean much to you right now, but I swear it, Guppy. I swear on everything that I care about in this world, I was not using you.”

You studied him for a moment, mulling over his words. Perhaps he had a point. If he was using you, surely he would have done a lot more than just hold you? You pressed your lips together firmly, frowning at him.

“I’ll tell you what,” he murmured, eyes shining as they looked at you, “I won’t touch you again unless it’s to protect you or because you want me to.”

Your brow furrowed, frown growing deeper as you regarded him. He swallowed thickly, nodding more to himself than to you.

“I mean it,” he whispered, backing away just a step. “I won’t touch you unless absolutely necessary. When-if you’re ready, I’ll be here.”

Before you could answer, the leaves began to move again, and both of you turned to watch as Javy stepped into the clearing. Jake stiffened next to you, a look of irritation flashing across his face before he schooled them into one of cool indifference.

“What is it, Javy?” He drawled, sounding almost bored as his quarter master glanced between the two of you, a look of knowing mixed with annoyance plastered on his own face.

“You’re going to want to check this out,” he said finally, fixing Jake with a hard look. Jake nodded, looking back at you and gesturing for you to follow as he walked after Javy back towards the beach. You moved to leave, stopping when you heard a strange noise, almost like a song. A shiver ran up your spine as you looked back, dread filling the pit in your stomach as the sound happened again, closer to the beach this time.

“Guppy, let’s go!”

You jumped at the sound of Jake’s stern voice, whirling around and following quickly after the two men.

The men were all gathered in a clearing of trees along the water, a wooden hut on stilts sat above the water, a set of steps leading onto firmer land while another set led directly into the water. You would never have known the structure was there unless you stumbled upon it. The trees hid it from view of the beach, the foliage packed so densely that you had to really push your way through it. You stumbled out onto the other side, Bradley reaching out to steady you as you tripped over a tree root.

You wondered why he never told you that your presence brought him relief like Jake said it did.

Jake inspected the structure, walking along the side of it before looking at Javy.

“Any of you been inside yet?” He asked, frowning at the surrounding men. The quarter master shook his head, hands clasped behind his back as he surveyed the area.

“No,” he answered. “No one has been in yet. I wanted you to be the first to see it.”

Jake nodded, turning his attention back to the group.

“Where’s Benedict and Joshua?” He frowned.

“No one’s seen them since just after we landed,” Javy replied. Jake cursed, shaking his head.

“Alright, let’s check this place out,” he muttered, already heading up the steps. Javy was close behind followed by two more men, then Mickey, then you, and finally Bradley brought up the rear.

“We’ll keep watch out here,” one of the men called out nervously. Jake glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow before shrugging.

“Suit yourself,” he drawled, waving a hand dismissively at them.

The hut was tiny, but still somehow contained item after items along the floors, the shelves, and every other surface that was available. A strange hum filled the air, not unlike what you felt in the clearing when you were with Jake. Several bottles held mysterious items suspended in liquid, and you found yourself clutching onto Bradley, fingers twitching nervously as your heartbeat picked up.

“It looks abandoned,” Mickey muttered, eyeing a spider as it crept across a dusty, old book.

“I wonder who lived here,” you whispered, worried that something might be listening. A floorboard creaked from the far side of the room, and all of you turned to see a haggard-looking woman standing in the doorway. Hands flew to swords, and the woman let out a low chuckle.

“You won’t be needing weapons here, sailors,” she purred, her voice surprisingly pleasant sounding despite her outward appearance. Her hair was matted, crawling down the length of her back in black strands. Her skin was pale like moonlight, skin pulled tight against the bones that lay underneath. Her eyes glinted dangerously in the light, like the eyes of a predator ready to strike at the first opportunity. Despite all of it though, you could see that she had once been a beautiful woman.

“Who the hell are you?” Jake snapped, voice gruff with warning as he glared at her. She flashed him a sharp smile, lips pulled back almost too far as she regarded him with predatory eyes.

“I am one who watches over this place,” she said sweetly, hands gesturing all around her. Javy took a half step forward to stand at Jake’s back.

“Where are we?” Thequarter master asked, eyes hard as they watched the woman glide around the table that occupied the center of the room.

“You find yourselves at the isle where broken hearts go to rest, the poor dears,” she smiled, dark eyes shifting to stare straight at you. You stiffened in your spot next to Bradley, shuffling to try and hide behind him as best you could. The woman’s smile grew even wider, skin stretching in a way that it shouldn’t as her eyes gleamed with excitement.

“Your heart is so heavy,” she crooned, moving towards you, and your hands latched onto the back of Bradley’s shirt as her eyes danced with glee. “You’ll make a fine addition to my brood.”

“Not happening,” Bradley hissed, reaching an arm back to push you further behind him as he puffed out his chest, eyes narrowing at the woman in warning.

“It must be so lonely,” she continued, ignoring Bradley and the way they others shifted around the room, “to know that soon it will be just you who stands in this world. Those around you have fallen, left you for either the hereafter. And soon what you have left will fall to a curse that has nothing to do with you.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, your heart lurching in your chest as the weight of her words hit you, the familiar prickle starting in your eyes as you pressed your lips firmly together.

“That’s not going to happen,” you whispered weakly.

“Oh my sweet girl,” she cooed, reaching a hand out to touch you. “It will. When it does, I will be here to comfort you along with the others.”

“Who are the others?”

Her finger stopped only centimeters from you, her head turning slowly to lock on to Jake who still glared at her. She cocked her head to the side, the smile fading from her face as her features morphed from friendly to cold and calculating.

“Were you not listening?” She rasped, eyes narrowing dangerously. “The ones who live here have all suffered broken hearts.”

“We didn’t see anyone else on the island,” one of the crewman muttered towards Jake, but the woman ignored him. The smile slowly crawled across her face once more, though this was held promise of malice rather than the half-baked attempt at comfort she had given you.

“You are also one who is familiar with disappointment and heartbreak,” she sighed, walking slowly towards the captain. “You almost remind me of my son, the poor boy that he was.”

She stopped when Jake’s jaw clenched, glee returning to her dark eyes as she continued.

“Look at you,” she cooed at him, her saccharine tone sending another wave of chills down your spine. “What would your mother think of you now? The poor, bastard son she raised in his father’s house. Working night and day to earn her place as well as her son’s, your father never once acknowledging you as his own despite his lack of an heir.”

Jake’s nostrils flared as he glared at the woman, her lips curled into a dangerous smile as she let out a low chuckle.

“Your kind, loving mother doing everything she could to protect you from the reality of your situation,” she cooed. “But then she fell ill, didn’t she? And then she passed, and there was no one left to protect the child that you were. You were cast out of the only home you had ever known at only seven years, forced to wander the streets with any scraps you could find as your meals. It wasn’t until that old captain took you under his wing that you had a place to call home again.”

Jake said nothing, but if looks could kill, you were sure the woman would have died ten times over already. The woman clucked at him, smile once again fading, lips turned downward into a disappointed frown.

“Nothing to say about your poor, dead mother, hm?” She taunted, looking mildly put out at his lack of a reaction. Her eyes lit up suddenly, the smile returning once more.

“But that wasn’t your first encounter with heartbreak, was it?” She mused. “Not only have you suffered your own, but you’ve inflicted it on another, haven’t you?”

“Why don’t you mind your own business?” Jake spat, fists clenched at his side, fingers twitching with restraint.

“Broken hearts are my business,” she huffed, eyes slowly shifting back towards you. “Has he ever told you why he was cursed?”

“He slept with the woman that Davy Jones was in love with,” you replied uneasily, glancing at Jake. The color had drained from his face as he watched the woman contort with laughter, the sound echoing through the room as she cackled.

“Is that all he told you?” She grinned, eyes shining wildly.

“Be quiet,” Jake snapped, stepping forward with a warning on his face. Fear ensnared his features.

“Why should I?” The woman grinned. “I think the truth deserved to be spoken. Her story deserves to be told.”

“Please don’t,” Jake begged, eyes darting between you and the woman now. “Please.”

“Davy Jones is not the kind of man to curse another because his affections are spurned,” the woman continued, ignoring the captain. “No, he wouldn’t be so cruel as to curse someone with no just cause. Jones was in love with the woman, yes, but he respected her choice enough to let her run into the arms of the man she had chosen.”

“Stop,” Jake murmured quietly, leaning against the table for support as he hung his head.

“So you do feel shame after all,” the woman cackled, though no humor was laced in her tone. “You know what you did was wrong. You knew she loved you, and like the vain, prideful youth you were, you threw her to the side once you had had your fill. No regards to the love she gave you, nothing in your heart for that woman. Tell me, did you feel anything for her before Davy Jones cursed you? Or is it the curse that made you see the error of your ways?”

“Enough,” he whispered, eyes pressed tightly shut as his shoulders hunched in on himself.

“Or perhaps,” the woman hummed thoughtfully, “it was the moment she threw herself off the cliffs into the water below that changed your heart.”

A/N: Wow, what a reveal! Can't wait to hear what y'all think of that one lol Anyway, gentle reminder that I no longer do tag lists! If you would like to receive notifications on when I post, please follow my sideblog: @arcanevagabond-library and turn on post notifications! As always, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! You can also find me on AO3 under arcane-vagabond. Until next time!

#ff #fool's fare #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #top gun hangman #hangman top gun #top gun maverick fanfiction

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askinkiskarma · 1 year ago

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𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀: 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝕄𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝔼𝕪𝕖𝕤 𝔾𝕠 ℂ𝕠𝕝𝕕

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: Even in your state, memories of your past can't help but flood your subconscious, as Neteyam has a conversation with his father that will change the way he's viewed the last seven years of his life.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death), strong language.

wc: 6.8k words

a/n: this chapter was written to pretty much be a mirror of last chapter, with the same concept of flashbacks vs present time, except this time we get to see Vi's memories from the 7 years they hated each other, which will hopefully provide context for why Neteyam's hatred doesn't only stem from that fateful conversation he overheard, but also from her petty, vindictive actions, that only grew as time went on. i hope you enjoy this chapter, besties (i feel very insecure about it so pls go easy on me, i'm still recovering hahaha) x there's only two chapters left, and i'm already sad about this story coming to an end, but i hope you enjoyed the ride. pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: txepvi - spark, sa'nok - mother, ite - daughter, Olo'eykte - female Olo'eyktan, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time But I never thought I'd live to see it break

Neteyam hasn’t blinked since the accident, it feels. He definitely hasn't blinked since he did last, when you opened your eyes and then closed them again, never to be opened since. He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why it matters so much that he stays so acutely present and aware, so that his eyes are locked onto your sleeping frame, doesn’t know why the thought of falling asleep and missing you, missing your eyes fluttering open or staying shut forever hurts him so beyond reason or words, so beyond anything he’s ever known. So he hasn’t blinked. Everyone else was long gone, including his grandmother, who hurried to the tree of souls to pray for the safe return of her family and the rest of the brave Na’vi warriors who were still fighting in that wretched battle, the one that seemed never-ending, the one that riddled Neteyam with guilt for not taking part in.

“There’s nothing we can do for her now, ma ‘itan. She’s in Eywa’s hands now, we just have to wait and see.”

Neteyam hated those words. With a burning passion. Wait and see. So passive, so out of his control, so… hopeless. And yet here he was. Waiting, to see if you’d ever wake up, to see if his family, his mother and father, his friends, his clan members would survive the night and the challenge that might overtake them without him being there to help or stop it, or even witness it. Seeing, seeing you, powerless and lifeless, just a flicker of the bright spark you've always been, it stirred something in him.

You were so beautiful. He hated himself for realising it, but you were. You always have been, and although so much of your beauty came from the soul that was wild and untamed and too big to be contained inside you, still, you were beautiful. And like this, no usual frown or defiant smirk that you reserved for him, he could focus on your face and realise that you haven’t changed that much in all these years, not as much as he has led himself to believe in time. Like this, in this light, with a peaceful look on your face, eyelashes casting shadows over your lapis cheeks, your tahni glowing dimly and flickering softly, your lips slightly parted as you breathed in and out, you reminded him a lot of the Vi he used to love, the Vi before the ugly fights, and the constant war, before the hurt and the pain, before every day was just another opportunity to see who could hurt the other the most. He always thought you won those, all of those.

“T-tey…”

His musings come to a swift closure as your lips move minutely, air barely getting pushed past them. You were speaking, and he felt himself coming back to life with each sound coming out of your mouth.

“Teyam…”

It's getting dark and it's all too quiet And I can't trust anything now And it's coming over you like it's all a big mistake

“Teyam…”

You wake up in a sweat, like you did most days these days since the Iknimaya, whimpering the name of the boy you used to call your best friend, that you no longer could, for reasons you still couldn’t understand, that you feared more and more you never would. In your dreams, you fight and make up, and he tells you he’s sorry and that it was just a misunderstanding and that he’ll do whatever it takes to win you back, because just like you’ve gotten used to over the last few years, you two will always be bound by the hip and there was nothing that could ever come between you. It was a nice sentiment, but one that never manifested itself to you in any waking moment, as, since your Iknimaya, Neteyam has treated you like a stranger, like an ugly thought he fought his hardest to banish from his mind.

With a deep sigh, you put new clothes on and struggled to eat a few pieces of yovo fruit you picked up off the floor on your last hunt. You missed the food Neytiri made, and although they still brought you nourishment fresh every time they made it, it wasn’t the same without the familial, loving atmosphere you’ve come to rely on all these years, so you barely touched it, choosing instead to give it to the other orphans of the war that hadn't been as fortunate as you. You couldn’t bring yourself to go back to them, no matter how many times they asked. Not when you knew that if you did, you’d be met with a dead stare you couldn’t handle looking into, not without crying, and there’s nothing you hated more than crying in front of people. There’s nothing you hated more than showing weakness, and he didn’t deserve to see you weak. Not anymore.

Days dragged in training without someone to help time pass faster, without someone to brighten up your days, but they did pass. You had to sit next to Neteyam in briefings and in shooting practice, your ikran still played with each other even mid flight until one of you had to will them away from one another so as to avoid an awkward interaction, his presence and spirit was everywhere around you and in you and yet, it’s like you didn’t exist in his life anymore.

"Come over for dinner, kid. It's been weeks. We miss having you."

You didn't know how many more excuses you could come up with to not do as Jake said, although you did suspect they knew about your and Neteyam's fallout. It was hard not to know, when the air shifted whenever you were in each other's presence, when it became icy and glacial and empty like a vast, cold tundra that you couldn't escape no matter how much you tried.

"Jake..."

"I know, you're sick and you don't want to get Tuk sick, you're too tired for food so you're just gonna crash in your tent, you have discovered a new allergy to an ingredient that Neytiri uses that's never been a problem in the years we've known you, but it suddenly is now... still, just come, okay?"

"Look, I promised your dad I'd take care of you. I can't do that if you're gonna push us away. Whatever it is between you and Neteyam... it will pass. You love each other too much for it not to pass. But hiding, moping, walking 'round looking hopeless and aimless - it isn't you. I need you to be the spark I know and love and fight. You've never gone down without a fight - don't start now. Ok?"

“Ma ‘itan.”

Neteyam’s eyes snapped in the direction of the tent flap prying open, his mother’s lean, graceful figure emerging and he immediately rose from his spot to hurry to her side and envelop her in a hug they both desperately needed. She was fine. She was here, and walking and standing… alive. She was alive.

“Sa’nok! Where’s father? What took so long? Is everyone ok? I am -”

“Shh, Neteyam.” His mother was a warrior, always. She was strong and capable and skilled, she was tough and knowledgeable. And yet somehow, beneath it all, she was still soft and kind and caring and empathetic, she knew exactly what her kids always felt, and she knew exactly what to say to make it better. When she her hand found the back of his neck, guiding him into her embrace, his face gently tucked in the crook of her neck, Neteyam found himself sobbing, finally able to let the pent-up emotion surface, all the anger, and sadness and guilt, and relief the last few days have brought washing over him and onto his mother’s shoulders, and she cooed affectionately, not saying a word. She knew there was no need for words, no words could ever made this better.

“She’s dead, mum. Oare’s dead.”

“I know…”

“Please tell me everyone’s alright. Please.”

“It will all be alright, son. Everything will be alright.”

It will be alright… Everything will be alright.

Oh, I'm holding my breath Won't lose you again Something's made your eyes go cold

“Alright, now that you’re back in our tent, where you belong, we thought we’d celebrate both your and Neteyam’s incredible iknimaya! You both did phenomenally, kids, and we are so, so proud of you both. The youngest to ever have done it, too! I mean, I don’t want to brag, but I’m pretty sure it’s all my training regi-“

Jake ceased his monologue as soon as he noticed the dead silence in the tent, and the awkward looks that Neytiri kept shooting him when she discerned both your and Neteyam’s gazes stuck to the floor, a cold look on his face and an uncomfortable one on yours, neither of you in a celebratory mood, neither really ready or willing to relive the Iknimaya and how a beautiful, ethereal day turned into a nightmare in hindsight, plagued forever by the ill-feelings now tugging at both of your hearts.

You stared at Neteyam, as did most of his family, even the young Lo’ak who could not truly understand what was happening, why people were quiet, but could still feel the atmosphere shift, the air thicken, the silence linger and weigh heavily on all the people present in the room. Despite it all, you kept staring, kept hoping that throughout the newfound ice that enveloped the golden aura that he always exuded, that was your home and your light, your biggest question and adventure, your safety net and peace all in one, the memory of that night, so beautiful and far-removed, would bring him back to the boy you loved, the boy you needed, the boy you missed.

He was silent, still, a frown on his face and anger clear as day in his beautiful eyes, that you barely recognised, that you couldn’t believe belonged to Neteyam, your 'teyam. You kept staring and kept staring, until you felt the so-far unflinching sadness and despondency stew and seethe, until it changed and evolved, until you felt the familiar bubbling of anger remove reason or rhyme from your soul, until all you saw in front of your eyes was red, and Neteyam was the one taunting you with the blood-coloured cloth dangled in front of your face. Neteyam wanted this? Wanted to dismiss you and discard you like a toy he outgrew? Fine. You would make sure he regretted it - you have always been wild and creative, and without him, you now had heaps of time to be both, at the same time, all towards him.

“Thank you, Jake. We couldn’t have done without your help and guidance all these years. Thank you for everything you and Neytiri and Mo’at have done for me, and I’m happy to tell you that, despite my momentary lapse in judgement, I am not going anywhere. I want to be here, I want to be part of your family if you want to have me, and I will let nothing stand in the way of that.”

As you talked, you rose from your spot to hug your adoptive parents, and they happily returned the gesture, pulling you tightly against their chests and pecking the top of your head. Lo’ak and Kiri joined enthusiastically and before long, you were suffocating in love and care and familial affection, Neteyam nowhere to be found. You were sad about it, you couldn’t help it, but for the first time in weeks the sadness was second-place, and so you found a small smirk haunting you at the prospect you were hurting him even a small amount - maybe a small fraction to the hurt he’s caused you, but there nonetheless.

“Also… do I get a special reward for beating the Iknimaya in record time, the fastest it’s ever been done? I feel like I’m well on the way to stealing Neteyam’s spot as the next Olo’eykte. Wouldn’t that be just a riot?”

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Something's gone terribly wrong You're all I wanted

"How is she?" Neteyam's eyes were heavier by the second, so tired and spent in light of everything that's transpired, in light of the bustling of crowds outside meeting what remained of the Na'vi forces that fought in a battle that while Neteyam wasn't sure, he suspected took more lives than he'll ever be able to live with. Kiri was quiet as she entered, and Neteyam was grateful for his sister, who stood with him most of the night, who checked in on you while the Tsa'hik was preoccupied with other, more pressing matters.

"The same, I think. She hasn't woken up, I don't think. She hasn't moved."

Kiri walked the length of the tent until she reached you, kneeling by your side and pressing the back of her palm on your forehead. She had something wrapped in a leaf that replaced her hand and Neteyam watched with curious eyes, hoping that by paying special attention to whatever remedy that was, it would work harder and faster, would bring you back screaming and thrashing and cursing him out, because if there's something that he's realised since your accident, it was that anything was better than the deafening silence that he couldn't escape and couldn't imagine living in for a second longer than he had to. Anything was better than this.

"Her fever's not going down. I think whatever it was she scratched herself on while she fell was poisonous. That, combined with the impact of the fall... she's lucky she's alive, Neteyam."

Neteyam couldn't help the shudder that took over his body. He didn't have any hair, the way that humans did, but he imagined if he did, it would all be standing up like blades of grass on the ground, taut and barely-moving in the warm breeze. He shifted slightly so Kiri could perch herself next to him, arms touching as she leaned on him, before placing her head on his shoulder.

"Why are you still here, big brother?"

Neteyam thought about it, until he couldn't anymore, because the thoughts weren't making sense, because they all contradicted each other, because he was tired and heartbroken and distraught, and losing Oare was obviously making him soft and delusional.

"You know you're in love with her, right? Please tell me you realise this, at least now, after all this time, in light of everything that's happened, in light of how you've acted it because of it. It's been so long, Neteyam. So long of us watching you be horrible to each other and hope that one day, you'd both wake up and realise the only reason you're acting like this is because you're too blind to see what's right in front of your eyes."

Neteyam's eyes widened progressively more with each word uttered, until they were so wide it hurt. To hear it out loud, spoken so casually, as if it were a fact, shocked the Sully man. Us? Who else thought this? Who else could possibly be blind enough to perpetuate such disparaging ideas that made Neteyam's skin crawl even at the notion.

"I'm not in love with her, Kiri. I can't be in love with her. After everything she's done... everything I've done... this can't be love. Maybe it was, once. Maybe I loved her once. Maybe I loved her so much I couldn't imagine my life without her." Neteyam sighed, looking at your face, tears pooling in his eyes as early memories of young Vi juxtaposed against later memories of you, so many memories he wanted to forget and banish from his mind, so many cruel, harmful, ugly memories that made up most of his view of you now. "But not anymore."

Kiri rises from her spot with a sigh, patting her brother's head with an exasperated sigh, before she leaves.

"You haven't moved. You haven't slept or eaten, you haven't blinked. Our parents need your help bringing back the injured, the clan needs your help as the future Olo'eyktan, and yet... you haven't moved. I think that says everything. The first step in solving any problem is recognising there is one, brother. The sooner you admit your feelings, the sooner you can work towards fixing your broken relationship."

Stood there and watched you walk away from everything we had But I still mean every word I said to you He will try to take away my pain and he just might make me smile But the whole time I'm wishing he was you instead

Desire burning deep in you was the only thing you felt as Akxo continued to trail kisses on your neck, a string of saliva connecting the purple lovebites that still stung slightly from when he marked you with them just a few minutes ago. With your eyes closed as they were, it was almost easy to imagine you were all alone, just you and this guy you’ve known your whole life but only recently realised had become a man, powerful and strong after just completing his Uniltaron just a few days ago. Despite your imagination, though, you were, in fact, not alone, nor isolated, but in plain view, propped against a tree of the clearing where you all trained in, that still had people working hard to improve on their skills, which is probably what you should be doing. But there was something so innately satisfying about doing this instead, as soon as Jake had to leave and tend to his other Olo’eyktan duties and left you and Neteyam in charge, doing it so he could watch, so he could stew in the bile that was his existence and know there’s nothing he could do to stop it, because he had no leverage over you and no power to hold over your head. Not now, and never again.

Jake had been wrong. Whatever it was that happened between Neteyam and you didn’t pass, not a few months and definitely not now, years later. If anything, it got a lot, lot worse. Because while in the beginning it was uncomfortable silence and cold and unwieldy dejection, it was now fire and blood, it was teeth and claws, it was anger and resentment. You recognised a lot of it came from you. Most of it came from you. Because Jake might have been wrong about some things, but he was right about others. You’ve never gone down without a fight - and if a fight was what Neteyam wanted all this time, a fight was what he was going to get. Because while he might have been comfortable with the quiet, you wanted yelling and chaos, to reflect the hurt in your heart that hasn’t diminished even after all this time. You wanted to make him pay for banishing you from his mind and heart, from his life that you used to know so intimately, and you were good at payback, and continued to get better over time.

“Are you trying to derail this whole fucking training session?” His voice, that you wanted to say hurt your ears, but if you were honest with yourself, it never could, not when it was melodic and beautiful, not when it still haunted your dreams, made Akxo straighten up faster than you could tell him to not bother, and you chuckled, a low and humourless sound that you’ve come to associate with dealing with Neteyam.

“Don’t tell me you can’t ever handle a bunch of 13 year olds, Neteyam. I knew you couldn’t do anything right without me, but still, this is low, even for you.”

“Akxo, I don’t think I’m making myself clear. She may be immune from the Olo’eyktan’s judgement, but you, my friend, are not. I’m sure there’s better ways to spend your days than wasting your breath on her. Trust me, she’s not worth it.”

“Ah, Neteyam, there’s no need to be bitter.” Your smirk only deepened as you ran your hands over your new flame’s abdomen. “One day, you too will find someone who won’t recoil at the thought of being in your presence, but you might need to work a little harder to not be so hard to stomach all the time for that to happen. I can coach you if you want, I mean… it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to help you, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

I know, I know I just know You're not gone, you can't be gone, no

“These are the last of them.” Neteyam tried not to recoil in agony at the sight of so many dead Na’vi and pa’li, so many ikran, so much loss, more than anyone should ever know, but especially their tribe, that has had to come to terms with grief in a way most other tribes aren’t, in a way that’s unnatural and premature and wrong. It was all so wrong.

Kiri was right, he had to help. He had to help not because it was his duty, but because it was right. He couldn’t keep looking at you, not when every second he did, Kiri’s words rang in his ears and made his eardrums pound so hard it felt like they were about to explode, not when every second he spent thinking of you was making him feel a mix of emotions that he didn’t, couldn’t understand, not when the exhaustion from the last few days made him question himself and ponder if his sister was indeed right all along. So Neteyam left you in that tent and put you under lock and key in the back of his mind, and dealt with the immeasurable loss that once more plagued his clan.

“Nawm Sa'nok, why?! My son, my son! There is supposed to be a balance! This isn't balance!” The wails of the woman, whom he’s known ever since he was born, that he can still remember playing with him when she brought his son over his family’s tent, hurt beyond comprehension. The usual peaceful, harmonious laughter and chatter intertwined with the sound of leaves rustling in the wind and soft, distant songs of animals and birds were gone, drowned by the cries and screams by the people that were trying to identify the dead, and figure out if life would ever be the same again.

"Neteyam, ma 'itan. He's gone, he's gone! Oh, Great Mother!"

Neteyam's breath got pushed out of his lungs at the impact of her body crashing into him, that he struggled to keep upright as she was buckling under the weight of her loss. Her son was a good warrior, and a friend. He couldn't come to terms with his death, couldn't understand what was truly going on, his mind almost protecting him from the overwhelming grief by numbing his thoughts, by removing him slightly from the realities clearly displayed to him, that he experienced almost like in a dream.

"It's going to be alright, auntie. We're all going to be alright." His mother's words, a mantra he repeated to himself every second, now the only thing that he could utter, the only thing that didn't feel redundant... even though it was.

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Something's gone terribly wrong Won't finish what you started

Well, here you were, ready to eat your words, as the curiosity got the better of you and you found yourself sneaking to Neteyam’s new hiding spot, that he didn’t know you knew about, that you found yourself coming to a bit too often to call it nonchalance and yet, you just couldn’t help yourself. It was an itch you had to scratch, seeing what he was doing, who he was with, finding new ammunition for your petty revenge, it was all for research purposes, you always told yourself.

Whatever you saw here, and there were some wild things, you always kept quiet and left without ever being spotted, maintaining your cover and whatever dignity you knew would disappear if your friends found out you were stooping so low. But somehow, right now, watching as Neteyam was whispering sweet nothings in a stupid little healer’s ears, telling her how good she’s taking his cock and watching her eyes roll back in her head, your blood was boiling.

You didn’t know why it was boiling, it’s not like you haven’t seen him fuck girls before, or try to, it’s not like this was a completely unusual occurrence, but it was new just how into it the girl seemed to be. How desperate for his touch, how needy to feel him. Your fingers twisted around a branch so hard it snapped and you ducked as their heads snapped into the direction of the noise. You were just mad that you lost a subject that you knew got under his skin. That’s it. That must be it, not at all because your mind was conjuring all the ways that you should be in that girl’s shoes, and how he should be making you feel this way. No man’s ever made you feel this way. No man’s ever made you cry, the way she was crying, gripping at his back and shoulders so hard his skin was broken and bleeding. You hated him, that’s all. That’s why your blood was boiling.

Well, he wouldn’t get the last word, not if you had anything to do with it. You returned to your spot around an hour later, half happy, half annoyed out of your mind that they were still going at it, and she was still screaming and crying, and he was still whispering praises in her ears, although they did have the decency to change position so at least you couldn’t see much anymore. With a wide smirk on your lips, you waited, until the unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed through the endless green forest.

"Neteyam, are you there?"

Jake sounded angry, and you stifled an evil laugh as you saw them both scramble to untangle themselves from each other and from the floor, the girl's cries no longer of pleasure as she couldn't figure out how to tie her top around her neck anymore.

"Nete-, oh, my fucking God!" English came naturally to Jake, even 20 years later, whenever he was feeling any extreme emotion, and you were happy for the strenuous effort you put into learning it as a child just for this one moment, right here. This was all worth it. "Kole, your mother was looking for you. Can you just- oh, fuck - can you just go and meet her, please?"

"Yes, of course, ma Olo'eyktan."

You were still grinning about the interaction and the ass kicking that followed a couple days later, as you came back to your tent for the night. The smile faded progressively as you neared the entrance, as small whimpers and pleasured groans could be discerned vaguely, coming from behind your tent, a small nook that only you really knew about or frequented, that now was obviously occupied, by a person whose voice you recognised all too well. No way. Sure enough, as you snuck around the tent, a continuation of whatever it was you interupted a couple days ago was well underway, and you bit down a curse, enraged at the way not only did you not, in the end, get the last word, but Neteyam's new hiding spot was just about to ruin whatever remainder of peace and sanity you had left.

When you entered your tent, a small piece of paper with some writing rested on your sleeping mat, yet another human skill Jake insisted on his family to know, that you now regretted.

"This is for ruining my hiding spot. Enjoy hearing all the girls who don't recoil at the thought of being in my presence."

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this I thought I had you figured out Can't breathe whenever you're gone Can't go back, I'm haunted

Neteyam watched as his father entered the tent, a heaviness that he rarely lets people be privy to wearing him down and slouching his shoulders. Neteyam couldn’t imagine what his father was going through, couldn’t imagine how someday, he’ll have to bear this burden and do it well, do it honourably and proudly and still keep a head held high and keep it all together so other people can fall apart around him.

Neteyam had mostly love for his dad - deep, unconditional love that will never falter, not even in the face of adversity, or in the face of the deep seeded resentment that Neteyam still had after the years of torturous training, of pressure put on his very young shoulders, of guilt-tripping and being blamed for his brother’s mistakes, of being pushed aside and replaced with you, the perfect daughter who could do no wrong in his father’s eyes. Even despite all of this, Neteyam loved his dad. And yet, watching him come in, sad and worried sick about you, his lips pursed in a straight line, words on his tongue that Neteyam knew were coming and was terrified of… the love faltered just a little.

“Mo’at said she got poisoned falling off her ikran.”

“Yes. Oare’s dead.”

“I saw her in the line-up.” His father turned his sights from you to his oldest son, sighing as his eyes set on him, anger flashing in his eyes briefly before composing himself.

“What the hell happened out there, Neteyam? We were counting on you. On both of you.”

Neteyam had no answer to that. He’s tried so hard to bury the thoughts, because he knew that if he succumbed to them, the guilt would eat him alive and pick its teeth with what remained of his frail bones. He didn’t think of how this was his fault, your fault, how if these stupid fights, that now seemed meaningless and daft, didn’t occupy so much space and time in both your minds, you would have slept, you would have not been tired and distracted, Oare wouldn’t have felt the nerves and fears emanating from you, and you would’ve done what you do best, inspire some people, kill others, be next to Jake, like you always were, like Neteyam was normally next to his mother, and get it done. The two of you were indispensable to the clan, as much was clear now. And although it wasn't fair, how much pressure there was on both your shoulders, it was the way things were. And now both of you will have to live with the consequences of your actions, will have to find a way to look the people in the eye again, knowing that you directly caused their family’s demise and the clan’s sorrow.

“Do you understand how serious this is, Neteyam? We lost good people today. Good people, strong people, dependable people. And the two people who I counted on the most left us all for dead, to fend for ourselves. This isn’t what I taught you. This isn’t who I raised, Neteyam. Even Lo’ak pulled his weight. We’re going to be reeling from these losses for the rest of our lives, and this has set us back months, and I need you to understand the weight of your actions.”

Another sigh and a frown that aged the Olo’eyktan by a good 10 years was the last sign of disapproval before his attempt to leave Neteyam by himself, but for the first time in his life, Neteyam couldn’t let that happen. He didn’t know whether it was his words, or the continuous battle with you that he’s had to fight for the last 7 years, all years in which he’s felt heartbroken, and resentful, and inadequate, and pushed to the side, and ignored, and worked to the bone for very little appreciation, or the fatigue wearing him down, or the loss of your ikran, or the guilt that’s been gnawing at him long before his father’s contribution, but for the first time in his life, Neteyam’s anger was directed at someone else rather than you.

“Understand the weight of my actions? Do you hear yourself right now? This whole mess, this whole shitshow that I’ve gone through, that we’ve both gone through, it’s all your fault. All of it. This is going to weigh on me just as much as it will weigh on you, and the loss of these people, of Eywa’s children, will haunt me for the rest of my life. Of our lives. So don’t sit there and talk to me about responsibility, and about losing people.” He couldn’t help look at your unconscious form, that more and more felt like your own body was trying to protect you from the sadness that would wait for you when you woke. “I lost the person I loved the most, that was my shelter from the storm, a storm you caused. All you do is push me, and push us, and I’m so fucking tired of it.” a sob is all it took for his father to rush to his side, concern and confusion deeply rooted on his face as it met Neteyam’s, when his hands found his face and rose it to his level.

“What are you talking about, son?”

Neteyam’s chest was heaving with unshed tears as he looked in his father’s eyes through the fractured, refracted lens of the liquid threatening to spill.

“I heard you.” One tear. “That night, the night after the Iknimaya.” Two tears. “I heard you telling grandmother how you want her to be Olo’eykte in my stead. How she deserves it.” Six tears. “I heard you… as you told her Vi would never have me. That she said she would never want to be my mate.” Too many tears to count.

“Oh, Neteyam…”

“I worked so hard, my whole life. I sacrificed more than anybody I know. And I did it all to please you, to live up to you. I did so you’d be proud of me, so you’d love me, and accept me. I did it all so I’d a good leader, a worthy Olo’eyktan, someone the clan can rely on to protect them.

I spent my whole childhood crying and aching, hating my life, wishing I could be anyone else instead, but I thought it would all be worth it one day because you told me as much, and that I have a title to live up to. And then I met Vi, and she changed everything… and I loved her, dad. And in one night you managed to take everything away from me.

Do you have any idea what that did to me? What the next seven years, in which we hated each other and competed for your love and praise, for your attention and affection, did to me? I’m there for everybody all the time. Every day and night, I am here for you, and for mum. I am here for Kiri and Lo’ak and Tuk. I am here for the clan. I am the mighty soldier, the doting brother, the dutiful son, the concerned clan member, the understanding karyu, the unbroken arrow in the quiver of your army.

Do you know there’s not a single day that I don’t hurt, that it doesn’t kill me inside, little by little, without a single soul to talk to, that cares or bothers to listen to my struggles?”

Sometime during that monologue, that Neteyam’s kept in his soul his whole life, he found himself in his father’s embrace, who was quiet and listened, who said nothing and just waited. Neteyam was sobbing in his father’s shoulder now, and he couldn’t find it in him to stop, like a spring that was buried underground with none the wiser until poked in just the right way, with unending streams now able to either fill a dam or flood a village.

“Neteyam… fuck. I’m so sorry, son. I didn’t know. Any of it, I didn’t know. Neteyam… you never said anything. You never brought up that night, and I wish you did, son… I wish you did because if you had, then you would know that those words that you heard… those words weren’t mine, Neteyam.”

There are very few moments where Neteyam feels like his soul has somehow exited his body and he’s experiencing a moment almost like from outside himself, like a stranger looking in. That’s how he felt now, as he could see himself removing his head from his father’s embrace, a dazed and almost uncharacteristic expression trying him.

“What did you say?”

“That night, if I remember correctly… we were talking about how well you did, both of you, in the Iknimaya. We were laughing at the fact you were both late, how I’d have to pretend to be mad and punish you, when in reality I not only expected it, but almost desired it, that you took that day to enjoy yourselves, to feel free of some of the burden I know I’ve placed on you.

I was reminded, seeing her, of her dad. Her dad who asked me to take care of her before he passed. Of the words he told me. That even back then, as nothing more than a child, he knew that she was special. That under other circumstances, she would have, no doubt in his mind, become the next Olo’eykte. That she was born for it, made for it. Those words always echoed in my ears as I watched her grow, and seen for myself the talent that comes so rarely, it seems almost like a fable. That I only ever saw in you. I considered it, making you both leaders at the same time - unheard of, maybe, but you both deserve it, you’re both made for it, and you used to complete each other, like two pieces of a perfectly fitted puzzle. That’s it, son. I would never want to replace you, Neteyam. I would never even think of it. Not only because you are my son, but because you are the greatest person I've ever met. Because there's no one else, there can be no one else.”

Neteyam saw his face drop, his entire body shuddering under the weight of the new information, that changed everything, that he could have known all these years and yet didn’t, that shifted Neteyam’s whole world on its axis yet again and he almost wanted to reach out and console himself, the man that looked as young and scared as a pup lost in the woods, like he used to look all the time before he met you, like he swore to himself he’d never look like again after he lost you. His dad didn’t want to replace him. He never wanted to replace him. What was he supposed to do now, with this momentous information that he never thought he’d get to hear?

“I’m so sorry, son, that you’ve had to bear this weight all by yourself. I’m sorry for my contribution in it, and that I failed to see how I made it all so much harder to stomach. Your mother and I love you so, so much, Neteyam, and we want to be there for you, but, son… you don’t talk to us. You keep everything buried inside. We can’t help what we don’t know. We try our best, and we’re so sorry we failed you… that I failed you. And about Vi… Neteyam, you have to speak with her. You’ve carried this in you for far too long. You need to let it out. Let her explain. Let her give you an answer, or closure.”

“What if she doesn’t wake up?”

Neteyam didn’t know if his dad was saying this more to his son or to himself, but right now, it didn’t matter.

“She will, son. She’ll wake up.”

The only other time Neteyam's left you since the accident was after the talk, the overwhelming urge to wash his face at the nearby river finally too great to be ignored. The water helped a little. It grounded him and nourished him, as much as it could, and Neteyam was slightly taken aback at the way his soul felt just slightly lighter, how his father's words, and the conversation he should have had years ago and didn't, changed so much in his mind. His father was right. Kiri was right. It was time to talk. Years and years of torture and pain, and it was finally time to talk. He just hoped you'd actually be there to listen.

Neteyam was startled by a frenzied Lo'ak, rushing to his side, panting as he put a hand on his chest, trying to catch his breath as he spoke.

"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"

"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"

"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."

You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time Never ever thought I'd see it break Never thought I'd see it

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