#ship: the power to make the whole world stand still

[writermuses]

@marimelwrites

[trinidaddy888]

Fridge Mission

Lucifer needs your help. Beelzebub has been eating everything from the fridge and Lucifer trusts that you can stop him. You try and give Beel something else he can eat. >;)

Rating: Explicit 18+

Characters: Beelzebub, Reader, MC

Ship: Reader x Beelzebub

Genre: Smut

Tags: Smut, gender-neutral reader (but reader wears a bra lol), race-neutral reader, oral sex, vaginal fingering.

A/n:  This idea started as a joke months ago every time I get the Obey Me notification. This is the first smut I've ever written and published, so please be nice. This took months only because I kept getting embarrassed by this and didn't think it was being written well. I decided that I no longer cared if it would be good or not and wanted to have fun writing this and test the deep waters of smut. Check it out on AO3.

Masterlist

“I need your help,” says Lucifer. 

You and he are in his den, one afternoon. Earlier, he texted you and asked you to meet him to discuss something important. He did not clarify and you hoped he would now that he’s right in front of you.

“Help with what?” you ask, curious as to what he could possibly need help with. He is one of the greatest, most powerful demons in Devildom. What could he not handle himself?

“Well,” he starts, “Beelzebub has been eating all the food in the fridge. Every day at 12 pm or 6 pm he is in front of the fridge, eating everything he can get his hands on. It’s taxing on our food budget and some days we are left without dinner.”

You remember the days when Lucifer opted to order take-out meals for you and the brothers rather than welcome a home-cooked meal from whoever was on cooking duty for the day.

“Are you sure, I can convince him to stop?” you ask, “Once he gets to eating, it’s hard to stop him.”

“Beelzebub has grown attached to you and I feel that you can be his voice of reason. He has certainly failed at listening to my requests to stop. I believe that a more trusted friend, one that he has a pact with, can finally stop him. Please prevent Beelzebub from eating everything.”

“Well,” you say with a shrug, “I’ll try my best. I doubt I’ll do anything useful to stop him, but I’ll try my best.

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

You stand by the fridge, checking your watch. It’s 5:57 pm. Beelzebub would be in the kitchen soon and you’ll have to stop him. You have no plan. You figure that the best way to stop him would be to find the cause of the problem. But is there a reason behind him devouring the whole fridge at the times Lucifer mentioned? Beel is the Avatar of Gluttony so there could just be no discernible reason for his cravings.

“Hey,” say Beel, interrupting your thoughts.

“Hey,” you say back to him, “How’s it going?”

He towers over you. Most of the brothers do but his height even outmatches Lucifer’s.

“Uh… Fine,” he says, seeming confused by the conversation, “Do you mind moving out of the way?”

“Why?” you ask, feigning innocence, “Do you need something?”

“I’m hungry,” he says. He wasn’t being pushy, he just stated it as if it was a fact. “I just want a snack.”

“A snack or the whole fridge? Lucifer told me what you have been doing.”

“A whole fridge’s worth of food is a snack,” he says with a shrug.

“Don’t you think you should leave some food for me and your brothers?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, “Satan has to cook dinner and needs the ingredients.”

He moves closer, placing his hand against the fridge, arm stretching over you.

“I can make you move,” he says, something dark in his voice.

You realize that he's trying to seem threatening, but you know him well enough and trust that he will not hurt you. Still, there was something sexy about the way he said it.

“Then make me,” you challenge.

He stares you down, quietly and you stare right back up at him, crossing your arms.

He sighs, backing off. You can swear you see him blush but you’re not sure.

“Fine,” he says, defeatedly, “you win.”

You smile.

“Hey, I have snacks in my room,” you offer, “Human world snacks and I’ve been meaning to repaint my nails. Why don’t you join me?”

His face remains neutral but you see something light up in his eyes.

“Okay,” he gives in.

In your room, you sit him down at your desk and bring over a side chair to sit next to him. You already have the tools, nail polish and nail polish remover for the manicure set on the table. You grab his hand and start to remove his nail polish with a cotton ball soaked in nail polish remover.

With his hands in yours, you notice how big his hands are. The first time you realized how big they were was on your waist when you and he cuddled once. That was the night you shared your room during a Devil Dish Bake-off binge with some snacks.

That night made you see him less like one of the youngest brothers with a hefty, destructive appetite and more like a soft, tender demon. After you both shared so much over the months since the Belphie incident, you also became closer as friends. Friends. Which is why you can not think of what it would feel like for those large hands to explore you.

“So,” you begin, waving away the intrusion of curious thoughts, “As the Avatar of Gluttony I know you can’t resist eating a lot, but Lucifer told me that your urge to eat everything out of the fridge was fairly recent. Do you know why?”

“I get extra hungry when I’m trying to distract myself from something,” he says, avoiding your gaze.

“What are you trying to distract yourself from?” you ask, switching to filing his nails, “And are you still hungry?”

He’s silent. He gazes at you and then looks down at the hand that you were manicuring.

“I can’t say,” he finally says, “It’s a secret. And, yeah, I’m still hungry.”

“Yeah, and it’s a secret that affects the whole House of Lamentation,” you say pointing the nail file at him, “Now spill it.”

“It’s a secret about someone… I want.”

“Oh, that’s juicy!” you exclaim with delight, “Who? Someone I know? Come on, tell me.”

He looks up at you, eyes smoldering

“It’s you… That I want.”

“Me?” You are perplexed. You stop filing and are now gawking at him. “What about me could possibly drive you to eat an entire fridge’s worth of food.”

“It’s something you would not like the answer to, trust me,” he says looking down at his hand again. And you noticed that his cheeks and ears were red.

You think for a moment. Lucifer’s plea to stop Beel from eating everything swims in your mind. Maybe you don’t want to know but you have a mission.

“Whatever it is,” you say, “I can handle it.”

“Fine. It’s… Well, you’re human and you smell good, so it makes me… Well, this is hard to say out loud…”

“I make you hungry?! I know you all threatened to eat me at first when I got here, but damn! If cleaning out a fridge is what it takes to stop...”

“No,” he cut you off, now looking right at you, “You make me horny.”

Silence fell between the two of you. You were in shock. You?! But you’re human. Surely there are many hot demons out there that he wants to fuck, instead. 

“Are you sure? You feel that way?” you ask slowly, “When did this start?”

He moves closer to you, staring with intensity.

“I think it started when we shared your room that one time,” he says, “We cuddled and the smell of you drove me crazy. I thought I wanted to eat you but...” He trailed off. The rouge shade of his cheeks deepen

“You thought so, but what?” you ask, urging him to continue.

“I got a boner,” he croaks.

“Oh…okay,” you say, voice high pitched, “I guess this is context for why you avoided me for a week after we cuddled. I thought I made you uncomfortable.”

 And it is context for what you felt when you both spooned. You thought it was a candy bar in his pocket.

“No!” he exclaims, “I just didn’t know what I would have said to you if we were left alone. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with… my needs.”

He looks embarrassed. It’s kind of…cute.

“Nothing you say will ruin our friendship,” you reassure him.

“Really?”

“Yes, I promise. Besides, I can’t say I’ve never thought of you that way, either. I mean, look at you. You’re so ripped.”

“I do work out a lot.”

You laugh. “It shows.”

“I think it’s my turn to file your nails,” he says, grabbing your hand.

He starts filing your nails.

“I wonder about you guys here in the House of Lamentation. Besides Asmo, do you guys get laid? Because if so, I’m not aware of it.

“I can’t speak for everyone else, but for me, it’s been a while. Lucifer made a curfew for us ever since he caught Mammon gambling at casinos late at night.”

“That sucks,” you say, and you really did feel bad for him and his brothers.

“What about you?” he asks, voice lowering a couple of octaves.

“Honestly, not since I left the Human World. And everyone besides the angels and Solomon has been a threat to even consider getting with them. It’s sad because I thought demons would be good at things like that. Maybe I have those expectations because I’ve never had good head from a human before.”

“Want to change that?” he asks. He is staring at you, his gaze longing and lustful.

Your heart thumps. Did you hear that right? His expression is serious and deep with longing.

“W…What?” you sputter.

“I said, do you want me to change that?” he repeats, voice husky and moving even closer.

Shit. You have been dreaming about this since coming to Devildom and the offer comes so easily from one of the hottest demons in Devildom? You can’t possibly pass up the opportunity.

“Yes,” you say breathlessly.

He gazes at you, with deep passion and pulls your hand to his mouth and kisses it. He traces his tongue from your wrist, to your fingers, stopping to lick them. His tongue is gentle but firm. His mouth felt so good. You bite your lower lip and close your eyes, imagining if it would feel just as good if he did the same to your cunt.

He rolls his chair over to you and his mouth is covering yours, tongue brushing over your lips until your mouth falls open. He kisses you, mouth hungry to taste all of you. And you let him, running your fingers through his honey-orange hair. His lips are surprisingly soft for someone as strong as him.

“Can we take this to my bed?” you ask, pulling away.

Wordlessly, he does as he’s asked, promptly lifting you to his chest and carrying you to your bed. He puts you down, your back resting against your bed frame, and climbs over you.

He kisses you again, tongue exploring your mouth even further. His kiss is powerful but gentle. You’ve never been kissed like this by a human or anyone before this. You lean into him, your tongue, following his lead, allowing yourself to taste him. His tongue brushes over your bottom lip before he bites it. It stings a little but in exactly the way you liked. His kisses travel to your neck, tasting the salty-sweet flavour of your sweat, licking, sucking and biting to his heart’s content, enjoying the taste. You can feel your pussy revel at the feel of his touch, wanting and wishing for more.

#

He pulls away for a moment, to undo your button-down shirt which you shrug out of throw onto the floor. His large hands grace your back and unhook your bra band. Your bra slides off to your waist, revealing your bare chest, much to his delight. He takes in the sight, smiling devilishly. You wonder what he was thinking.

He takes one breast to his mouth and fondles the other with a free hand. He fondles them, gently.

“Rougher,” you demand. He grabs them, kneading them with his hand and squeezes your nipples between his index finger and thumb. You whimper at the sensation and push your chest harder into his hands. He squeezes harder, testing which pressure gathers a moan from you.

You moan and with the other breast, he traces his tongue over the edge of your areola before flicking over your nipple. He bites and tugs your nipple and then sucks. His mouth is warm and wet. You haven’t had your tits sucked since being in the Human World and experiencing it now after the long absence of touch was nearly enough to make you unravel. You feel your body shudder from pleasure and you realize that you’re panting.

 Your clit aches to be touched, too. You move your hand to your pussy and start rubbing your clit with your fingers, trying to please the parts of your body that ached for attention.

He notices your attempt to please yourself, says, “Here, let me,” and he frees his hand from your breast.

He licks his fingers and slides his hand under your pants, finding your clit. There was no clumsy fumbling to find its exact position. He just knew. You wonder if it was that your previous partners were just that bad. Or did Beel’s thousands of years being alive give him an edge?

“Oh,” he smirks, “You’re wet, that fast?”

You cover your face, feeling embarrassed.

“Yes,” you say, “It’s been a while. And you’re doing… a good job.”

He grins up at you and moves his face down to your breast again to suck.

He uses his index and middle fingers to play with your clit. His hands are rough and your body invited the texture. It was a simple motion and it did the job, eliciting breathy gasps from you.

His lips move south, kissing your solar plexus, down to your navel. You ravel in his kisses, feeling like your body was born for his mouth.

He stops kissing your body to look up at you and says, “I want to taste more of you. Can I?”

You nod, wordlessly.

He smiles and moves to pull your pants down. You adjust to make it easier for him to do this and watch him throw your pants to the floor. He kisses your tummy and then stops to tug at the waistband of your panties with his teeth and pulls them off.

He kisses your thigh and moves one of his thumbs to your clit and rubs. You gasp and press your body into his touch. His kisses lead up to your upper inner thigh and he pauses to take in the sight of your cunt, captivated by what he sees.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, desire in his voice.

You blush and say, “Thank you.”

He leans in and puts his mouth on your throbbing clit and starts to flick his tongue on it. His tongue is firm and wet. He starts slow, circling the outside of the apex, teasing you. You breathe deeply.

With being wet, his index and middle fingers slide into you easily. You take them in for a few inches, noticing how large his fingers are.

He passes his tongue over your clit and curls his fingers inside you. You feel the pressure on the front of your vagina, on your g-spot.

He licks and pumps his fingers inside you slowly. You figure that he was testing the motion that you would like

“Faster,” you command.

He does as he asks and starts sucking, too. With that addition, you feel yourself unravel. You grip the sheets, moaning. Uncontrollably, you grind into his fingers and face, yearning for more.

You look down and realize that he’s looking right up at you, eyes lustful. It was as if he was enjoying looking at you respond to him. You’re so lost in his eyes that you don’t realize that you are approaching a climax.

You cum, feeling your body flooded with pleasure. You scream through the pleasure. You feel a dampness on your cunt and see your wetness on his face.

You see him start to remove his face from you.

You put your hand on his head, fingers entangled in honey-orange hair and pull him closer to you.

“No!” you exclaim, voice breathless, “Don’t stop!”

He does as he is told. He licks, sucks, licks, sucks and fingers you until you cum again. You scream, voice starting to feel hoarse. You lay back, panting. He comes up and sits next to you. He stares at you, eyes focused.

“Are you okay?” Beelzebub asks.

You catch your breath and finally are able to speak.

“Yes,” you say grinning, “I’m excellent. Thank you.”

He grins back at you.

He leans in and kisses you. You can taste yourself on his mouth.

 “We should do this again,” he says when he pulls away.

“We should…” you start and then come to a realization. “Wait! I didn’t get you off! I think we can start on your turn.”

“Well,” he says with an amused grin, “We can take a shot at it, if you want.”

You grab him by the collar of his tshirt and pull him closer in for another kiss.

And then suddenly there is a knock at the door.

“Dinner is ready!” you hear Satan shout.

You look down. You realize that you are completely naked and your thighs are covered in your own slick and thank the heavens that Satan is one of the few brothers in the House of Lamentation that actually knocks.

Beelzebub frowns. “Damn.”

“Hold on, Beel,” you say, surprised at his dismay, “Are you actually disappointed that food is ready? Weren’t you very hungry half an hour ago? What about the fridge you wanted to eat all of?”

“Well,” he says smiling, “I found something else to eat.”

[maxislvt]

helloo, first off i love your work ! second, this may or may not be a request but- imagine dark!wanda x spidey!reader, post no way home where r is one of the avengers sent to stop wanda on her rampage. r gets captured by wanda though and turns out wanda remembers r’s identity. she had a crush on r since civil war and now that she has r all to herself…😳

“i’m going to ruin you”

warnings: womb tattoos, coercion, manipulation, spiderperson typical quips in really bad situations, no smut

got a little carried away, whoops!

The last few months of your life have been awful.

Life had been pretty stable for the most part. Trying to balance college, being a superhero duo with your adoptive brother, and the newfound freedom of adulthood was a lot to say the least. Then some big alien freak came along and ruined everything. You and Peter left Aunt May behind for five years.

For better or for worse, you and Peter didn't age. Peter still had his senior year ahead of him and you were only 24. So you both tried to make the most of that.

You were supposed to chaperone your little brother's senior trip through Europe. All you wanted to do was help Peter enjoy the last few months of youth he had before being shipped off to college. Of course, fate had other plans and the trip was interrupted by another cataclysmic event. One unpredictable turn after another. Then suddenly everyone knew your secret identity.

Quentin Beck was a hero and you were half of the duo that killed him.

One edited video and suddenly the whole world was against you and your brother. It was a target on your back you had no way of getting off your back. The magical escape you thought you'd found was nothing but a wolf in sheep's clothing. Universes nearly collided. Three versions of your brother. Two other versions of you. Villains the two of you tried and failed to rehabilitate. A moment of complete darkness for your brother A dead aunt. So much fighting. So much pain. All of it for nothing. At the end of it all, everyone was forced to forget about you and Peter. No more full rides to dream colleges and no more "Amazing Spider Kids". It was just the two of you in a shitty Downton apartment at a community college neither of you really wanted to attend, but that didn't stop you two from trying to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

That need to protect everything and everyone seemed to get you in bigger trouble.

America Chavez. Barely 15 years old, alone in the multiverse, and no one to trust. Her powers and life experience were beyond you — you couldn't even take credit for defeating whatever monster that was chasing her — but you wanted her safe. You foolishly thought that it'd be as simple as finding a hero that could mentor her. Magic wasn't your strong suit. Yet, you still helped America try to escape the claws of the Scarlet Witch along with Doctor Strange.

In the midst of a heated chase, the witch's focus seemed to have shifted. Your mask was ripped by a piece of metal and you could feel the witch's eyes on you. Since you were more focused on protecting America, you decided to send The Scarlet Witch on a goose chase. You and a magical body double of the girl. Unfortunately, you could only run for so long. You didn't bother fighting when you were captured. All you could do was put on a brave face as you were somehow teleported back to your universe. You assumed the witch had gotten a decent portion of America's powers. That worried you, but unfortunately you had to prioritize your personal safety for a moment.

The witch must've known you were too weak to run away because she didn't even bother tying you down. She just stood over you and examined your face. You were nervous and confused to say the least. "So, uh, do you always stand over sacrificial young adults in such a compromising way or am I special?" You quipped. It was a real misfortune your mouth tended to run more when you were nervous. Your heart almost exploded when she reached out for your mask. "Hey, hey! Have some respect for a man's secret identity, will you?" You shouted, trying to push her hands away.

Automatic reflexes were nothing against magic and you were unmasked and it sent your spider senses spiraling.

"You remember me."

"Of course,I remember you. Do you not remember me?"

The airport. Tony had you and Peter flown out for a top secret field mission, that's what he told you at least. You weren't sure what you were fighting for, but you remember the battle clearly. Some guy had grown to a hundred feet tall. You fought some guy with a metal arm. Then someone suddenly started throwing cars. They had all missed you and went straight for Tony, but it was still scary. After the battle, you learned the name of all the people you fought. The weird one, as Tony described her, was named Wanda Maximoff. It's scary how your life had become so eventful that you'd forgotten that whole experience. Well, you couldn't blame yourself for not recognizing her considering the drastic change in her appearance.

"Yeah," You said bitterly, "you threw a car garage at my mentor."

"Your mentor made the bombs that destroyed my home country and had me jailed for powers I didn't ask for."

That was the first time a villain had left you truly speechless. Tony wasn't like that. Was he?It was a lot to process and that wasn't made any easier with the icy cold hand caressing your cheeks. "If you're going to drop an information bomb, can you at least give me a second to —" Your sentence was cut short by her thumb slipping into your mouth. Wanda had managed to slip past your spider senses. It was odd considering you were definitely not calm nor did you trust her.

"I figured he didn't bother telling you the whole truth," Wanda's voice had gotten low and seductive. Her thumb pressed down on your tongue as she continued to monologue. Your squirming didn't phase her at all. "I could hear your thoughts the moment you stepped foot in the airport. So loud and frantic, but nothing but innocence and desire for approval. It's a shame I wasn't able to see you again after that. I was lost in a hex of my own deepest desires and do you know what was there?" A smile spread across her lips as she felt you relax out of curiosity. "The two of us, happily married with two children, and living in New Jersey."

The statement made you jump and start fighting again. Married with kids was definitely not on your list of goals in the next few months, living in New Jersey just sounded dreadful. You managed to get her thumb out of your mouth just long enough to speak. "I'm sorry to hear about your crazy magic thing, I'm not ready to settle down yet. Maybe come back in six years once I've graduated, yeah?"

Wanda binded your wrists with magic. Her hand came down on your cheek with all the strength she had. Despite her frustration, she was happy to see you were still as witty and innocent as the day you two met. "I think I have a plan you'll like." She smirked as she summoned the darkhold. It opened on its own. The book turned towards you and translated itself so you could understand it. "Your innocence," she said before ripping you suit, "and your body in exchange for the girl's safety."

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. It certainly wasn't a fair deal, even more unfair once you looked over the spell presented to you. A womb tattoo magically etched into your skin that would give Wanda complete control over your libido, orgasms, and a bunch of other depraved things you hadn't even heard of before. Wanda definitely wasn't the woman you imagined would take your virginity, but it wasn't an offer you could refuse. Strange wasn't strong enough to defeat Wanda and letting America die wasn't an option in your mind.

You put on as brave a face as you could before speaking, "If you so much as lay a finger on that girl, the deal is off." Your voice faltered at the feeling of Wanda's lips pressed against your neck. A moan nearly escaped your lips when Wanda's hands began exploring your body. The skin of your lower stomach began to tingle. This was it. This was how you lost your virginity.

Wanda's lips curled into a smile. A real one that showed off her perfectly white bunny teeth. She was no longer concerned with America. You were all she needed now.

"I'm going to ruin you," She whispered, "and you're going to enjoy every moment of it."

You wanted her to be wrong. You wanted so badly to hate the way her hands felt against your bruised skin and the softness of her lips on your neck, but you couldn't. Months without affection left your body desperate for any form of human touch. It is shameful and almost disgusting.

"Shh, I'll treat you right. Just be good for me."

[heliads]

I’d like to request a Pietro imagine. Pietro survived and became an Avenger. The female reader doesn’t have powers and isn’t an Avenger. She’s really smart and works with Tony and Bruce in the lab. She was hired after the whole Ultron fiasco. People underestimated her intelligence in high school and college because she’s a girly girl and loves the colour pink, but the Avengers aren’t like that. Pietro likes her and wants to date her.

'waiting around' - pietro maximoff

masterlist

When they tell Pietro he has to go to the labs, his first thought is to run.

He knows it’s silly. These are not the same doctors who made the Maximoff twins strong and fast and utterly alone in this world, these are the scientists with the Avengers. They’re the good guys. Apparently. But Pietro has learned fairly quickly that people calling themselves good aren’t always good in the end.

Pietro has a lot of learning to do since he and Wanda escaped Ultron a few months back. He’s doing his best to be patient and take things ‘one step at a time,’ as the Americans keep telling him. Mainly, he would like their steps to be faster. Pietro has things to do, and they don’t usually involve waiting in line for someone else to decide if he’s worthy of their loyalty or not. The Avengers are trying, he knows that. It’s just hard sometimes.

Especially when Pietro is still trying to shake off the feeling that he should have died back in Sokovia. He came away with his share of narrow escapes, but there was one moment towards the end, when the ships were firing at him, when Clint needed his help, that Pietro thought would be his last. Luckily, he was faster than a few bullets, but there’s still this nagging voice in the back of Pietro’s subconscious that whispers to him late at night:  what if you hadn’t been fast enough?

So he’s been uneasy as of late. What about it? Stress is common in inhumans and Avengers, one glance around this coffee-dependent complex could tell him that. Still, it’s a good thing to get checked out. That’s part of the reason Pietro is being directed to the labs, along with a need for a good annual physical.

It sounds good, too, were it not for the fact that Pietro has had plenty of experience with laboratories in the past few years and none of it was good. The Hydra labs made him strong, in a sense, but they were torturous. He can still remember the pile of corpses ushered out every day, the experiments that failed. He remembers curling up in a corner of his cell, begging his body not to give out, not to make him another body in a bag. He lived, but he remembers.

This is not Hydra. Pietro knows that. He left them behind. Still, there will always be some part of him that shrinks away from every syringe, that distrusts every doctor who comes poking and prodding at the bizarre novelty that is an inhuman. That will never go away, no matter who’s side he’s on.

Still, the lab remains. He has to go in, the others will know if he doesn’t. At first, Pietro hesitates just outside the door, afraid to knock, afraid to listen. There was always a chill in the air throughout the Hydra complex, he remembers the gooseflesh forever on his skin. Signs that nothing good happened within the walls. Or maybe it was just because of the stone buildings in cold climates. Everything has an explanation.

He can’t back out now. Pietro grits his teeth and swings the door open in one broad movement. For a moment, he stands there, waiting to walk back into his old cell, his old life, and then he looks around and realizes with a grin that he’s going to be fine. This isn’t a Hydra ploy to get him back under their thumb. For one thing, Hydra never used this much pink. Just barren walls and gloomy, monstrous skull logos. In retrospect, that should have been a bad sign. Pietro has a problem with ignoring details, though, and it tends to get him in trouble.

These details, however, are quite difficult to be ignored. Everywhere Pietro looks, he sees pinpricks of pink– the handle of a pipette, labels on equipment, notebooks full of scrawled data points, hair ties in a carefully organized container. No, Hydra never had this much fun, and Pietro is starting to think that this is going to be very fun indeed.

Smirking to himself, Pietro weaves further through the lab. He sees a few assistants scurrying around in the back, but they pay him no mind so he does the same. Pietro almost reaches the end of the room when a sudden voice calls out to him:  “Don’t take another step.”

Instantly, Pietro freezes. The owner of the voice walks towards him, a young woman about his age in a lab coat. She must be the owner of the lab, too, because he spots a pink tie in her hair matching the others near the door. The name stitched onto the left breast pocket of her lab coat reads Dr. Y/N L/N, so Pietro knows she’s the one he was supposed to find.

She points to Pietro’s feet, where he notices are just touching a line of caution tape on the ground. “If you went any further, you’d be at risk of getting your eyes blinded by the lasers,” she informs him cheerfully.

Pietro’s face drops. Only now does he notice the hazard signs. “Huh. Guess I wasn’t paying attention.”

Y/N arches a brow. “Do you always wander around lab space without watching where you’re going? Seems like an awfully dangerous habit for me.”

Pietro grins. “Well, I usually rely on my reflexes to get me out of trouble. I’m pretty quick.”

To prove it, he uses his speed to instantly move right behind the woman. She spins around, donning an indignant look that Pietro decides is very cute. “Don’t do that,” she scolds him.

Pietro folds his arms across his chest, grin broadening. “Why not?”

“I’ll tell Steve you’d like to do some weight training with him in the gym, and you think you can outlift him,” she threatens.

Pietro feigns surrender. “Anything but that, please.”

At last, Y/N’s lips twitch up into a smile. “That’s what I thought you’d say. Now, let’s focus. Tony sent you in to get a checkup, right?”

Pietro nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Wrong,” she tells him. “Tony actually sent you in here to get on my nerves. He does that a lot. I’m busy and he likes distracting me. We’re going to get through this as quickly as possible, alright?”

Pietro has to fight not to laugh. “And here I thought everyone in the labs gets along.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Most of the time, yes. Except when he sticks me with babysitting duty.”

“This isn’t babysitting,” Pietro protests, “I’m getting to know you. I already feel like we’re the best of friends.”

Something that might be a smile flits across Y/N’s face, but she takes great pains to hide it to him. Pietro, who has always cared a little too much about getting people to laugh at his jokes, follows her like a dog as she walks through her lab. “You can laugh, you know. It won’t kill you.”

The smile is gone as quickly as it appeared, and Pietro instantly wishes he hadn’t said a word. “I’m working right now,” she tells him abruptly. “That means I’m focused. Don’t get in my way.”

Surprised and somewhat hurt by her shift in mood, Pietro goes quiet, but he can’t resist asking a second later, “I’m not trying to interfere with your work, I promise. Does that often happen?”

Y/N goes still. Pietro is half expecting her to just ignore him when she finally speaks at last, very quiet and very unlike the fiery personality he’d seen before. “Every time someone new comes in here. And with half the people I’ve already met, anyway. You’d be surprised what a few pink accessories can do to someone’s reputation, and their credibility in a lab.”

Pietro grimaces. “I’m sorry about that, honest. That’s not what I was going for, by the way. I joke with everyone.”

At last, Y/N meets his eyes. There’s a faint tint of humor swimming in her gaze. “I think I got that.”

She’s smiling, though, so he takes that as a good sign. Once that initial barrier was crossed, Y/N opens up a little more, and then Pietro finds himself stopping by her lab almost every day when he’s not off on a mission. He sees her thrilled with success after an experiment worked, and desolate when they don’t. He sees her consumed with stress. He sees her brow knit with careful concern as she patches him up after a mission. Through all of it, Pietro is increasingly risky with his heart, and then one day, he knows he loves her.

It’s a foolish thing to do. Y/N has confided in him many times that she’s afraid people only will see her as a girl first and a researcher second, someone who can be taken out for drinks but never a valid source of knowledge. If he makes his move now, she’ll never forgive him for being just like the others.

So he doesn’t say a thing, and descends further and further into hopelessness. Wanda says he’s ridiculously obvious, but Y/N still doesn’t seem to have noticed a thing, so maybe the only person more oblivious than Pietro is Y/N, and that’s saying something. Pietro doesn’t want to ruin their friendship, but as the days slip by and Pietro only falls more in love with her, he wonders if he hasn’t already ruined it by always wanting more than he can have.

He’s starting to wonder if he is simply going to carry this secret with him forever, until Y/N catches him at it one evening. The night is growing late, and Pietro has retreated to one of his favorite hiding places in the Avengers complex, Y/N’s lab, to watch her conduct her experiments and indulge in some idle chatter. They’ve grown quiet, and Pietro is leaning against a benchtop, doing nothing but watch her. Some of the motion-sensor lights in the corners of the lab have gone off from inactivity, giving the lights above them an extra glow. The light plays upon Y/N’s face and makes her eyes shine.

Pietro is just thinking that he’s never seen someone more beautiful in his entire life when Y/N looks up and catches him in the act. Instantly, Pietro pretends as if he’d simply been watching her pipette some samples into the well plates in front of her, but her brow is already furrowing and she’s asking him what’s wrong.

Pietro shrugs elaborately. “Nothing, nothing. Just thinking.”

“Really?” She asks, grinning slightly. “I didn’t think that was a normal thing to you.”

Pietro rolls his eyes. “Very funny.”

“I thought so,” Y/N hums. “What were you thinking about? You seemed very preoccupied.”

“Nothing,” Pietro repeats, but Y/N doesn’t seem convinced.

“Come on, I didn’t think we were the type to keep secrets from each other. What are you trying to hide?” Y/N asks.

Pietro scratches the back of his head, suddenly awkward. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Even better,” she says, laughing slightly. “What is it?”

Pietro should stay silent, but he can feel the secret rising up his lungs and forcing itself out before he gets the chance. “I’m in love with you,” he blurts out.

Y/N’s eyes widen. Whatever she was expecting him to say, it obviously wasn’t that. “Oh,” she says quietly.

“Yeah,” Pietro says, wanting to stab himself in the eye with a nearby multitool. “Oh.”

He eyes the door, and has just decided that a strategic retreat is the best move when Y/N interjects, “I love you too, you know.”

Pietro turns around so hastily that he almost upsets a nearby rack of micropipettes. “What? You do?”

She’s glancing at her work, but he can tell that she’s embarrassed. “Yeah. Thought you knew.”

“Obviously I didn’t, or I would have done something about it,” Pietro blurts out.

Y/N glances up again, smiling again. “Like what?”

“Like take you out on a date,” Pietro returns. “How about it? This Friday. Seven. I’ll pick you up.”

Y/N laughs. “That sounds good to me.”

It sounds good to Pietro, too. When he leaves Y/N’s lab at the end of the day, he’s practically giddy. All this time, he was afraid of telling her, and now he’s wishing he spilled his guts much earlier. Regardless, he has what he wants. They’ll have their date, and Pietro is going to feel like he’s on top of the world.

requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!

marvel tag list: @mayfieldss, @blondsauduun, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv, @callsign-scully, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7, @eclliipsed, @23victoria, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @gods-fools-heroes, @w1shes43, @deafsuperhero, @fadedver, @alex-1967s-blog, @crazyhearttragedy, @faerieroyal

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[scarletttries]

What One Piece Characters Are Like In A Relationship...(Part Two)

Request: "Greetings, could I ask for headcanons of what Buggy the Clown and Dracule Mihawk are like in a relationship?"

Pairings: Buggy x Reader, Mihawk x Reader, Shanks x Reader

Part One (The Straw Hats) here / One Piece Masterlist

Buggy the Clown:

- It's impossible to overestimate the sheer vulnerability it took for Captain Buggy to speak genuinely and honestly when he finally confessed his feelings for you. A man who's spent so much of his life hidden behind a painted facade and a wicked smile, he tried to fight his truth for so long, forcing himself to treat you like just another pirate on his ship when there's nothing you could do that wouldn't stand out to him. The sincerity with which you speak to him, the way you don't gawk at his appearance, the fact that you never engage in the mutinous whispers of those around you. It wasn't long until you became his most called upon ally on the ship, through genuine appreciation for your insights but also his intense need to have his eyes on you at all times.

- With his feelings out in the open, Buggy is still conflicted in the way he showers his affections upon you. Behind closed doors the man is your personal jester, cracking jokes and using his gifts to keep you smiling and entertained constantly. Honestly that man would do anything to keep you looking at him, the warmth of your gaze enough to undo decades of cruelty and ridicule.

- Around the crew though, your captain likes to keep his adoration discrete. There are a lot of people out there that would love to have something they could use against him, and he knows deep down he'd surrender everything he's ever worked for if it stopped a single hair on your head being harmed. So despite how Buggy feels like he is bursting at the seams with joy every time he sees you, he insists on keeping things a secret for as long as the two of you can, lasting on longing looks and subtle contact for the price of your safety.

- That does add a certain desperation to the clown's behaviour towards you though, not that you mind. The moment you close a door he'll be on with you in a flash, all hungry lips and pressing his chest flush with yours to bathe in your warmth while he still can. He needs you overwhelming all of his senses, to fill his heart back up before he has to face the day without you again. Sometimes when he knows you'll be apart for a while, he'll tell the crew he's lost a hand somewhere on the ship so he can leave one tucked securely in your pocket, subtly interlacing his fingers with yours whenever the day gets to be too much; the powers he once feared made him a devil, now giving him the chance to stay by an angel's side forevermore.

Dracule Mihawk:

- A life as the world's greatest swordsman can be a lonely one. Going wherever he's paid to go. Never putting down roots. Knowing that one day he might just find someone desperate enough for his title to kill for it. Mihawk had accepted this life with a certain pride, until he found something else he wanted to be the best at.

- Another night in another island bar had his path crossing with yours, the briefest of exchanges leaving an aching hole in his chest like he'd never experienced before. It was like your smile sent a spark his way that had his whole body going up in smoke, a fire lit inside him that he had only felt once before; for his pursuit of swordsmanship. He knew nothing would quell that desire except giving in fully to the devotion.

- Dracule is extremely attentive to your every whim. He's never really been tied down before he enjoys the grounding that comes from having someone else to influence each of his days. Nothing fulfils him like making one of your wishes come true, his dedication to your partnership unwavering no matter what the world throws at you both.

- He would take enormous pride in teaching you a few of his sword-fighting moves, framing the sessions as just a way to share in his two favourite things (swords and you), but in the back of his mind also very conscious that a time may come when you need to defend yourself from his enemies. Naturally he'll find a way throw your practice fights so the two of you end up on the floor together, his sword cast aside as he exclaims that you are the only person in all the seas that has ever disarmed him so. Don't be expecting to leave that floor for a while once he has you in his grips.

Shanks:

- When you work in a popular port town you see a lot of pirates come and go. So it's pretty noticeable when a certain captain seems to do all his supply runs in your specific shop. Shanks is not at all subtle that he's continually coming to town for you, your first conversation enough for him to reveal that you might be the only person he's ever met that could convince him to give up the pirate life and settle down.

- You don't ask him to do that, instead the two of you settle for frequently being apart, but relishing in every second you get to spend together when you can. Every moment that Shanks is in your life is filled with fun, whether he's just dancing with you in your lovely little home, or convincing you to come with him on this next adventure, heading to a beautiful island where for once he's confident there's no risk of danger to you.

- When you have to be apart, Shanks will call you late in the night, narrating the view from his perch on the figurehead of his ship. He'll describe every detail of the stars glistening on the waves until the peachy rays of the sun trickle across the horizon, all while knowing the far superior view is wherever you are. He'll never reveal the true danger of his journeys to you, instead giving you joyful reimaginations of the troubles he's faced that day. You can tell when he's had a hard week from the pain in his voice though, so you take the chance to regale him with the softness of your peaceful day, recounting your every step and listening to his breathing slow as a weight lifts off his chest. He tells you how one day he can't wait to dock his ship one final time and fall in step with the life you've built, never having to hear your voice from so far away again.

- He lets that hope carry him through the most tempestuous nights at sea, through all the near misses at the hands of his enemies, through every day spent hiding from a bounty hunter and aching to hear your voice again. He finds himself picturing the two of you raising a family, a tiny crew of your own that will always unite you, the ultimate adventure Shanks can imagine, and one he never thought he'd long for until he thought about living it hand in hand with you.

One piece requests still open!

[peterparkersnose]

Sucks to Suck

pairing: Din Djarin x senator!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: near death experience, sexual references, sexual thots, not smut but sensual i guess?, alcohol consumption and drunk reader, respect of consent, SEXUAL TENSION and description of weaponds and snakes, tiny bit of body dysmorphia, swearing, takes place in between S2 of the Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett

The Mandalorian Airs Tomorrow!

a/n you guys see my padme reference there? huh? enjoy the tension the not angst but angst i loved writing this (it is 1am help i started writing this at 10pm) the sighing gif is literally din giving into his intrusive thoughts this whole story it was too perfect not to use (also i make up star wars planets lmao wut) my favorite mandalorian fic of mine besides secret

summary Din is Senator Y/N’s bodyguard and helps her after an attack

masterlist

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read time: 10 mins 1 seconds

The Mandalorian your father hired to protect you while you were visiting planet Elaeia was less than ideal.

The same one who also came back to accompany you to a senate meet where there was a threat made against your life.

And the same one that followed you around your whole beach vacation.

Somehow he turned in to an on call babysitter for you. Every time you saw him waiting outside your ship you began to loathe the trip. And soon, he began to show up around your house. Didn’t your father trust you? You were way past the age for need of a babysitter. You were a young adult, you could be the babysitter. And you were a damn senator. But as always, you sucked it up and tried to make the best of the situation.

“Don’t you ever get tired of the suit?” you asked, trudging up the stairs of your luxury apartment you rented for the week.

“Never.” Din lied. He couldn’t count the countless times he had wanted to rip it off and spent a night with you. Chills sent down his spine as he tried to think of something different to ease himself into the long week ahead.

But you were work. Your powerful father was paying him more than any bounty could. He needed the credits more than he needed you, right?

“What do you wear under there anyways?”

He hesitated to answer. “Clothes.”

“Really?” you asked sarcastically.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he muttered, almost barely enough for you to hear.

“Where are you going to crash tonight?” you asked him, placing your bag on the ottoman in front of your bed. “Not tired,” he lied again. The way he wanted to hold you in that comfortable bed was-

He had to stop his thoughts there.

“What time is it?” you asked him. “Around 7.”

“Shit! I’m going to be late.” you panicked. “I’m sorry, I thought we had some time to rest.” you apologized, knowing Din was exhausted from the trip.

The dress that was already hung in the closet for you was what you were going to wear to the banquet tonight. Without even caring, you opened your bag and pulled out the bra you were going to wear for the night. Without hesitation, Din stepped out of the room. Not today.

The dress was a deep blue and was form fitted. It jutted out at the bottom, complimenting your shape. It had long sleeves and a low neckline where your necklace was going to rest that night. You tied your hair up into a large bun with a braid around the base.

“Your train is here…” Din said, stepping in the room carefully. “Thank you. Wait- Mando?”

His heart skipped a beat when you said his nickname. You had known his name for a while, but he still enjoyed it when you called him Mando. Din was stunned at how you looked. I mean, you always looked good. But he could imagine standing next to you at the banquet in a suit, your arm draped over his and a ring on your finger.

The armor didn’t exist in that world.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Can you get this for me?” you asked, handing him the necklace you were going to wear that night. It was gold. Large and resembled tree roots. It was to sit along your chest and clip under your breasts along with behind your neck to stay put.

He handled the necklace carefully. His arms reached up and placed the necklace in front of you as his fingers trailed up the back to clasp the neck clasp.

“Dank farrik,” he sighed. His gloves were in the way of handling the tiny clasp. “Hold it for a second,” he told you. Din sighed as he made the decision. He slowly slipped off each glove and set them down on the bed.

You seemed to tense when his hands brushed your shoulders. You turned your head and saw his gloves sitting at the edge of your bed. The skin was cold and his hands were surprisingly soft.

Din hadn’t touched a woman with his bare hands well… ever. Sure he had brought in bounties who could identify as female. But nobody as elegant and beautiful as you. He would never forget the oddly intimate encounter.

“Thank you,” you said smoothly, adjusting the necklace around your ribcage. “You could call this more of a corset,” you huffed, smiling as you caught a glimpse of his skin as he slipped his gloves back on.

Standing in the mirror, you struggled getting the bottom clasp closed. You turned your body, trying to see if you had gained a bit of weight since you last wore this piece.

“Din,” you called sweetly, almost with a bit of song in your voice. He turned around on his heel as you saw from the mirror and it made you smile. “Yes?” he asked in the same tone you called him.

The way you called for him made him think about one of the rare memories he had of his parents. How one called out to the other. It was a brief moment but gave him deja vu when he heard you speak his name. Speak his name like a wife would call to her husband.

“It won’t-”

The sigh from his modulator was hard to miss.

“Can you help?” you asked, eyes looking up into his viser.

“I’ll hold them, don’t worry.” you smiled, your hands branching down lifting up your breasts.

Under the mask his eyes widened at the comment.

Din got down on his knees to try to get a better angle of the clasp. No other reason. He tried his best to focus on the clip but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the way you held yourself. Thank the gods for the viser, or he would have died of embarrassment.

“How’s it going?” you asked him. You could feel him struggling again with the gloves.

“What if I…”

You attempted to hold your breasts with one arm and had the other hand come down to help him, but the plan failed. Your boobs folded over on his hands without fail.

His hands quickly retreated from your ribcage. You noticed the stress in his demeanor, his breathing quickened.

You thought he was upset with you. Possibly disrespecting his creed, you felt horrible. Guilt knit tightly in your stomach as you knew you were going to think about this event the whole night. The embarrassment was enough for a lifetime.

Din couldn’t care less about his creed at the moment. He had never felt boobs before.

“Oh god! I am so sorry,” you said in horror.

“I can have someone at the banquet do it, let’s just forget-”

You were silenced by the sound of his gloves hitting the ground. Once again, his hands were at your service.

“Let’s get this done. We’re going to be late.” he said.

Grabbing the chain once again, he clasped it on the first try.

He escorted you to the train silently. He held one of your hands in his. The other hand held his pair of gloves.

Din hadn’t even notice you grabbed his hand. And to be honest, you didn’t really either. It was an instinct. Trains always freaked you out and he knew that. The gap between the ground and the train car, the speed they went at. Commercial trains were filled with unsuspecting people. Thankfully, the banquet event sent out personal trains for some of the local senators.

Finally you only noticed when he pulled away to put his gloves back on as you pulled closer to the event.

Had he really been holding your hand the whole time?

Meanwhile back at the apartment you had rented, you expected it to be empty. There was no need for a guard, you had only just arrived. Your location to be revealed to possible rebels wasn’t likely, you were stationed there for only a short time. A guard would follow you home along with Din.

You knew Din was capable of protecting you, he had every time. Something about a man in armor killing in your name just did something to you. But the uncertainty of almost everything about him made you push that idea to the back of your mind. And anyways, you were bound to marry for a political reason some day. It was coming eventually you assumed. Dates were never nearly as exciting as an adventure with Din.

The guard honestly was a joke at this point. It gave your advisors a piece of mind though, so you allowed it.

The seemingly empty apartment was carefully broken into. The sliding glass door from the balcony was opened, no fingerprints left and promptly shut as the rebel left.

Poisonous snakes were left slithering in your sheets.

It was something you would later recognize as a similar thing had happened to a senator many years ago. Poisonous bugs left to crawl in her bed.

Din walked you off the train platform and back to your apartment as quickly as he could. You, on the other hand, we’re being difficult.

“Don’t you ever take vacations?” you asked him, barely able to stand upright. He ignored your strange drunken question and kept holding on to you. “You didn’t answer meee!” you yelled, breaking free from his grasp and raising your hands to the air. The mist had accumulated from the oncoming storm.

“No. I don’t.” he sighed, grabbing your arm gently and guiding you back to the lobby with a hand placed on your lower back.

“Din,” you slurred, holding on to his armor in the elevator. Your fingers marched up his beskar chest plate as you asked him this.

“You ever had a girlfriend before?”

He blinked furiously under his helmet. What the fuck?

“Y/N, let’s get you to bed. Hm?”

“But Dinnn,”

“Come on,” he sighed, placing his hand on your back. The guard was stationed at the door. Din gave him a nod.

“I’m not sleepy!” you insisted, angered that you were being forced to end this wonderful night.

Din threw his gloves on the kitchen counter. He was getting sick of the things. After all these years in gloves, his hands never felt as uncomfortable and sweaty as they did that night.

“Here,” he sighed, steadying you by the shoulder and unclasping the clasp by your neck. The heavy necklace seemed to fall off yourself, only slightly catching at the waist.

“Thank you mister.” you said, letting it drop to the floor with a shake of your hips. Along with that you left your heels.

He saw you face dive into your bed and chuckled a bit as he was picking up after you. That necklace was probably worth more than the beskar he was wearing.

Din eyed up the couch, exhausted after watching you all night. He stood in the balcony of the event and watched you drink yourself almost to the point of embarrassment until he decided it was time for you to return home.

He had just began to settle in when he heard you scream.

It wasn’t like he had heard you scream before. He was used to all the rage screams when an article came out portraying you negatively. He was used to all the screams over the phone with your friends. He was used to the muffled screams he heard as he hid in his quarters when you would have dates over and prayed it would end.

But he would never forget this one.

He knocked over the vase on the coffee table, but didn’t really care.

The prolonged scream attracted the interest of the guard who busted in, spear ready.

Din had made it in the room first. He drew his blaster watched as you simultaneously chucked a snake in his direction. His blaster shot, killing the thing.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing you immediately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his armor.

The guard ripped back the sheets and found three more slithering in the sheets. The sight of that made you shriek more.

Din’s hand ran across the back of your head. His fingers hadn’t felt hair like that in forever. His own locks didn’t match up to your softness.

The guard removed each snake and silently killed them.

“Cardillian Greybecks,” the guard sighed, now bagging the snake carcasses. “I’m going to bring these down to the base, are you two all right alone or should I call someone?”

“We’re fine.” Din said sternly, praying for the man to leave.

He calmed you enough to sit you back down on the edge of the bed. “Everything is okay. No more snakes, see?” he says, shaking out a blanket.

“Fuck,” you sighed, your hand running down the side of your leg. “You alright?” Din asked, shaking out the pillows just in case.

“I must have scratched my leg in the scuffle, it really fucking hurts.” you slurred, rubbing the side of your leg. Of course the alcohol was still there.

“Oh gods,” Din sighed, asking for your leg immediately. Laying back against the bed, you lifted your right leg in the air for him to inspect. If he wasn’t so worried he would have thought the pose was somewhat provocative.

“Shit,” he sighed. You were bitten.

“What?” you asked eagerly, pulling your leg back. He held on to it though, staring at the festering wound on your leg.

“It hurts. Please,” you begged, pulling your leg back. Din was scrambling on what to do.

“This…” he sighed, hating the only option available. There wasn’t enough time to get you to a proper medic.

“Hold still.”

He slowly lifted his helmet up to the bottom of his nose to reveal his mouth and chin.

“Din!” you yelled as his lips made contact with your skin. “What the-” you began, but immediately soothed as you felt the venom leaving your bite. A needy moan escaped from your lips.

Din spat out the first round of venom. It stung his lips. It wasn’t enough to kill him, it wasn’t in his bloodstream. It tasted bitter and artificial.

“Oh my god,” you whined as his lips continued to suck on the wound. “Din, holy fuck.” you moaned, squirming in his grasp.

Even though you just had been on the brink of death, this was one of the most sensual things you had ever experienced in your opinion. The thought of his lips teasing you drove you up the walls.

He spit out another round. “One more, I’m sorry.”

You gasped at his voice. No mask, no modulator. “Oh gods, don’t stop.” you begged. Your back arched as he took in the final round, finally tasting blood to indicate the venom was gone.

He spit it out on the ground and slipped his mask back on.

“What?” he asked out of breathe. He had convinced himself he didn’t just hear what he thought he did. His ears were muffled by the mask in its awkward position.

Sitting up in bed, you patted the mattress. He sat down.

“That was so hot,” you whispered near his ear.

He didn’t say anything to you. You had prayed he would rip off his mask and take you then and there. Din wanted the same thing too, he would feverishly re play this night over and over in his mind for years.

But you were wasted. And he had a creed.

Even though after each passing day without Grogu his allegiance to his creed drew weaker, he still had his limits.

Din knew you would regret those words in the morning. But the phrase Cara told him many moons ago rung in his brain.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Talk to me when your sober.” he replied. He stood up and removed the base of the helmet once again. You embraced his body as he kissed you on the top of your head.

“Din,” you feverishly whispered. Without a second thought, you stood up. His body pushed against yours as you passionately kissed his lips. Your nose bumped the mask up more, but neither of you cared. His nose brushed against yours as you kept your eyes shut. The urge to look was strong, but you respected him too much to take a peek.

“One day,” he smiled, breaking the kiss. “Are you sure I can’t see more?” you asked. He shook his head as he pulled the mask down again. “One day,” he repeated, his voice now modulated again.

“Thank you for saving my life.” you said. “Any day,” he said sarcastically.

He placed the blankets securely over you.

The room was dim enough where he was sure if he was ever caught he would have an excuse. And you would lie for him, he was certain of it.

“Just one more thing-” you asked as his silhouette made its way through your door. He turned and looked at you.

“What color are your eyes?”

He had the widest smile on his face. The thought of you trying to form his face in your mind was almost comical for him.

“Brown. Good night, Cyare.”

“I knew they were brown, I knew it.” you whispered to yourself, convinced Din couldn’t hear.

He smiled as he retreated to the couch, unsure if sleep would visit him after his eventful night.

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[spotlightlowlife]

manipulating the audience hazbin a helluva easy feat

I will stop these titles one day

Anyone notice how Lucifer behaved a chauvinistic dude bro when faced with Adam, made worse that he was in the presence of his daughter.

So did Lucifer cheat on Lilith?

Or was this yet another sugar sugardaddy x sugarbaby power x pov exchange only with the inclusion of the most liberal woman ever?

Adam didn't initiate the gotcha girl and gotcha girl again mockery and gave no impression of caring about this, why was this the only thing Lucifer had to rub in his face? Adam would actually go on to open up about his envy of the sinners not appreciating him for being their ancestor.

Lucifer simply thinks sinners suck and agrees to the exterminations happening.

He is welcome to be smug.

This is just fine.

This franchise has a pattern of this, it gives the impression that this is intentional knowing full well that along as the audience backs the right horse, they can do no wrong, insert anything anywhere and loyalty or silence prevails.

We witness Angeldust, after persistently S harrassing Husk opening up about how he isn't as comfortable or confident about the world he's in. We see for ourselves that as sex positive as he tries to portray, he's nowhere near in control.

We then in a later episode witness Sir Pentious get SA as a gag, made worse that he was inebriated but still managed to do nothing but resist. This same episode Angeldust gets a serious scene standing up to his S predator.

Valentino is the prominent sexual predator of these stories, because Angledust is unhappy.

Elsewhere his royal, prehistoric 'good twin', Ozzie the prince of lust isn't to blame for the sexdolls he puts out of his lover Fizzoroli, the prince of greedy who shows no interest in sex outside of adding it to a checklist of things that sell is to blame, we are abruptly told this and guided to accept it because 'cute ship', even though that ship has moved into not so fun sugardaddy x sugarbaby territory, edging towards that of the awkward transactionship of powerful, bored prince Stolas and reluctant, disadvantaged little imp Blitzø, a predatory setup that's ok because both characters get the positive spotlight and Blitzø benefits and doesn't behave like a textbook victim.

Pentious didn't and did...

Stolas backstory is very significant, there is no sex positivity with his character, he was forced into a betrothal when he was a little child, forced into marriage as a teenager and made to have a child. His elders are to be honoured.

Who else found themselves in this exact same situation? Stella. They have an identical backstory.

Notice how, simply by switching some known characters around, Mammon and Fizz's interactions were a diluted spin on Blitzø and Moxxie? Fizz has a whole life away from Mammon, whose pageants chooses to compete in yearly, joint venture merchandise he promotes and phone calls he takes. He has a lover, a palace to roam around in and a day job. Blitzø works full time with Moxxie, breaks into his home, voyers on Moxxie and his wife, follows them on dates and has screwed their mutual ex for that reason.

Both Mammon and Blitzø push Fizz and Moxxie into work when they don't want to, however we have no evidence of Fizz always being reluctant, on the contrary we once saw him look forward to going to pageant rehearsal. Unlike Fizz however, Moxxie has shown open resistance to doing things in the form of crippling fear, reason and angry argument, it all makes no difference. Mammon commented on Fizz appearing to have gained weight however fat jokes aimed at Moxxie have been plentiful, something Blitzø has partook in.

The tone is that Mammon is the villain because Fizz is sad, Fizz who had not been shown to be another Moxxie previously but when it come time for him to be a victim, he was places into a Blitzø Moxxie relationship which this time around wasn't funny.

The tone alternatively is that Blitzø is eccentric, excusable and a fun lead to follow and Moxxie is the punching bag.

Notice how striker is a "supremisist" for wanting to bring down those at the top but it's perfectly ok for Blitzø to kill nobodies like himself.

elsewhere it's ok for Alastor to do the same to those like him with the reluctan support of Charlie who's goal it is to save these people.

Despite there existing an actual cannibal town, pimps and selling of souls being something she is acutely aware of, we are swayed to take Charlie's side as she sits in a position of power with her select besties at her hotel, that may have hard dr ugs on the premises, doing very little outreach even though we see community among extras, who does deals with literal lesser devils, in a world her dad created, her dad who allows exterminators to deal with who he sees as nuisances but she sees as 'family' and there's no conflict of interests, who do we see as the black and white baddies from day one? The angels.

Those who don't even sit at the top or know how things work to be specific.

Not Vaggie though.

Your favs are allowed to be dbags too, it doesn't make you reprehensible to see this and still like them!

[wilcze-kudly]

I've honestly always loved the scene between Zuko and Katara in the Crystal Caves during the Crossroads of Destiny, even though it's been kinda diluted by shipping discourse.

I love how this scene showcases how far Zuko's story has come, but that it still has a ways to go. It's also a great moment from Katara, showing off her compassion and kindness, despite her rightful anger at Zuko. And this moment of "reaching across the aisle" between two children who were forced into something much bigger and crueler than they could ever be apways makes me quite emotional.

But I'm kinda tired of seeing this scene in just that vacuum, when looking at it in relation to two other scenes makes it so much more interesting.

The first scene we can compare this interaction to is pretty obvious, since it's basically "the other half" of Katara and Zuko's moment. It's Iroh and Aang's conversation in the tunnel.

I adore this scene it's just such a vibe I too would like to walk through a tunnel with a nice old man who gives me good advice (even if said nice old man is a war criminal)

Of course the first obvious parallel between these two converastions is a member of the Gaang (two members who have been most affected by the fire nations actions btw) having a genuine, deep conversation with a banished member of the Fire Nation royal family.

I also think this conversation contrasts Katara and Zuko's conversation very well. It juxtaposes Iroh and Zuko, showing us how far Iroh has come and how far Zuko still has to go.

I think it's very symbolic that Katara and Zuko connect mainly on their pasts, while Iroh and Aang do about the present and future.

Two quotes in this conversation stand out to me particularly.

Iroh: Perfection and power are overrated. I think you were very wise to choose happiness and love.

It not only relates to Aang's current predicament, but it also foreshadows Zuko's dissatisfaction with his life after he returns to the Fire Nation at Azula's side. After Zuko helps "kill" Aang and take over Ba Sing Se, he has acheived what he believed would be his version of perfection, while also getting back the power he was born into. But he is miserable. He's dissatisfied, wracked with guilt and constantly second guessing himself and the world around him. He even says this: During the meeting, I was a perfect prince... the son my father wanted. But I wasn't me.

But Zuko was also unable to fully choose a simple life of peace and happiness in Ba Sing Se, choosing to fight Azula when she attacks him and Iroh. Because he still subconciously was searching for that feeling of power and wasn't ready to allow himself to prioritise things other than his honour. He wanted to fight Azula and prove himself, but he just eneded up allowing himself to be captured by the overwhelming force of the Dai Li.

While Iroh has learnt to see the merit in a simple life and actively rejects the power (for better or for worse) that comes with his status as a member of the royal family.

Iroh: I don't know the answer. Sometimes, life is like this dark tunnel. You can't always see the light at the end of the tunnel, but if you just keep moving, [Aang earthbends the rocks away one last time. Iroh's fire blows out. He smiles.] you will come to a better place.

Of course, this quote could relate to many things, including just the whole story of the show, but it also obviously relates to Zuko's redemption arc. Zuko's story is the epitome of continuing to slowlu crawl through a dark tunnel until you reach a better place. He stagnates and stumbles occasionally, but he keeps goingm and eventually gets there.

He reaches his better place.

It's interesting to see the contrast between Zuko and Katara's interaction and that of Iroh and Aang.

I think the scene in which Aang and Katara split off from Zuko and Iroh.

Aang and Iroh maintain eye contact, and Aang even gives a respectful bow. While Katara tries to make eye contact with Zuko, but he turns his gaze away, as if ashamed of his moment of weakness. Eye contact is very important is ATLA's visual storytelling, as I've spoken before in my post analysing the mutuality of Kataang's gaze.

I believe this scene foreshadows Zuko siding with Azula and Iroh siding with the Gaang at the end of the episode. Iroh and Aang have reached an understanding, and therefore, they are represented as facing each other and parting on good, respectful terms.

While in Katara and Zuko's case, Katara tries to make a similar connection with Zuko, however he rejects that connection. Ultimately this forces Katara to turn her back on him too, which may foreshadow her rightful anger at him in B3.

Ok, so the first interaction I want to metion gives us a bit of insight to Zuko, but what about Katara?

For that we have to go all the way back to B1, to an episode that I don't really see talked about in relation to Katara's story. Jeong Jeong is only the second friendly firebender Katara has encountered in probably her entire life, the first being Shayu, with whom she had very little interaction. Of course, I think this would at least give her pause.

Jeong Jeong and Katara's conversation is very short, but I think it had a great impact on Katara.

Jeong Jeong : You have healing abilities. The great benders of the Water Tribe sometimes have this ability. I've always wished I were blessed like you - free from this burning curse. Katara: But you're a great master. You have powers that I will never know. Jeong Jeong: Water brings healing and life. But fire brings only destruction and pain. It forces those of us burdened with its care to walk a razor's edge between humanity and savagery. Eventually, we are torn apart.

Jeong Jeong is the polar opposite of the firebender archetype Katara had in her head. He's thoughtful, disciplined and very careful with his firebending. Jeong Jeong's hatred of his own firebending also stands as a contrast to Katara considering her waterbending a vital and beautiful part of who she is as a person.

I always found it interesting that outside of Aang, Jeong Jeong was one of the first people in the series to respect Katara as a waterbender and see her potential, as he even connects her abilities to great waterbenders. It's especially a stark difference to how he treated Aang, the literal Avatar.

The way Jeong Jeong talks about firebending also reflects what Katara has seen herself of it.

Yet she pushes back at his self depreciation, showing that she still sees the value of his abilities. This foreshadows Katara's compassion for the people of the Fire Nation, especially when paired with Sokka's distrust of them.

I also think it's quite interesting that healing is often involved in Katara's attempts to connect with Fire Nation people. Her first connection is with Jeong Jeong, then she offers to heal Iroh, later Zuko's scar, she heals people in the village during the Painted Lady incident. Finally, the crowning jewel of this series of events is her healing Zuko after the Agni Kai.

This is especially poignant in the story of her and Zuko's relationship, with Katara offering her healing services to him twice, but being either rejected or interrupted. And finally she does heal him at the very end of the show, after he took lightning for her, symbolising a "bridging the gap", so to speak.

I think Katara and Zuko's conversation ties back to Katara's interaction with Jeong Jeong for a few reasons. Firstly, there's the obvious of Katara having a moment with a firebender with a facial scar. Also Katara's wording when she offers to heal Zuko's scar: instead of saying that she's a healer, she says "I have healing abilities ", which is exactly how Jeong Jeong described her power.

Ans once again, Jeong Jeong is the one to protect Katara and buy her time to escape, ehile Zuko betrays her. This once again just shows how far Zuko has yet to go before B3.

I've always thought that the way ceratain Avatar scenes intertwine with themes and similarities is very fascinating and fun to pick apart.

The scene between Zuko and Katara is profound, but I think it's often viewed in isolation, be it due to people wearing ship goggles or it just standing our more. But I think one of the reasons it's so wonderful is that it interweaves into so many other events of "reaching across the isle", of our protagonists connacting with firebenders. It's not just a good character moment for Zuko and Katara, it's a mark that connection and peace with the Fire Nation is possible, that it can be acheived, that it slowly is being acheived. Every one of these interactions is unique, but they all form a good foundation for B3, when we really get into humanising the Fire Nation civillians.

The scene between Zuko and Katara is beautiful not only because of what it is, but also because of what it symbolises: the hope of peace.

Ok this was "stating the obvious", once again brought to you by Quill in their pretentious humanistics student hat. I like to vomit words and some of you like to read them! So thank you if you have read them

[amuseoffyre]

I was reading the interview with Jes Tom about the trans allegory of Ed dropping his leathers overboard and my brain latched onto it and started gnawing :D

It got me thinking that this definitely vibes with feelings I had back in 1x10 with Izzy keeping this emotionally vulnerable version of Blackbeard safely hidden from public view ("you will not speak of what you see on pain of death"), Lucius encouraging Ed to express himself and the whole "this… whatever it is that you have become" scene.

Ed says it there himself "I am still Blackbeard" and Izzy flat-out tells him he's not unless he presents himself a specific way, dresses and acts a specific way ('this is Blackbeard'.) Simply being "Edward" and expressing himself and his emotions means that Ed faces hostility, derision, implicit threat and "I should have let the English kill you".

Ed pulls on his leathers again again because he's been threatened by someone close to him, but this time it's different - the intent is different. No more "I am still Blackbeard" because apparently his version of Blackbeard isn't enough (and this is already on the back of Stede saying "you can't be Blackbeard without your black beard"). Now it's "the kraken" or "the fucking devil".

More importantly, when he puts the clothes back on, he does it based on one of the propaganda pictures distributed by the English. This isn't his choice of presentation anymore. I find it fascinating that his look at the beginning of S2 is some kind of hybrid of the Mad Devile Pyrate Blackbeard and the image that Izzy shoved in his face in 1x10. (Also love the detail that Izzy's image has elements that appear in Black Pete's fantasy of Blackbeard, to confirm that this image isn't accurate either)

It's a defensive pushback, escalating to the 'viking vampire clown' aesthetic, because if he's being threatened by someone he trusted and he's had past experience of people being nice to him then turning on him ('it's a fickle crowd'), he'll have to go to another extreme to make sure no one will get close enough to hurt him or threaten him again.

The clothing is only a surface element. It's part of an armour to protect himself with his presentation. Stede's line in 1x03 explains it in a nutshell - "It's a power move - make people feel underdressed and suddenly, you're the one in charge". People don't know him/aren't afraid of him when they see him without it (the party ship - "do you know who I am?") and this carries over into S2 as well (the people at the fish shack).

It only hit me now that every scene where he expresses his emotions when he's in his leathers includes some kind of hiding - his hair loose around his face, hiding under a robe in Stede's bath tub, standing at the back of the ship where no one can see his face, closing himself away to cry in an empty room, hiding under a blanket at Mary and Anne's. He's been forced to hide his vulnerabilities when he's in his armour for decades.

Even when he's talking to Stede (and others), he doesn't express his real intentions. It's all skirting around what he actual wants and feels. The "run me through", the "next adventure" - Ed doesn't feel he can express what he wants directly, because he always has to keep his guard up.

The beginning of 2x07 is Ed wanting to shed the need for that surface armour, that visible shield for Edward. He drops them overboard and immediately goes and talks to Stede about his emotions and his feelings for the first time.

The fact that Izzy saw the leather-drop and this time says "maybe you should listen to it" instead of tearing him down shows how far they've come. Ed feels safe with Stede and wants to just be himself, but when faced with the idea of staying in the world where that armour - that presentation and the expectations that come with it - is necessary again, he panics and runs.

Then their entire world is burning and as far as he knows, Stede is injured or dead.

Once again, the leathers come back, but this time, Ed is the one who chooses to put them on. He's taking this piece of himself that he has hated for years and turns it back into the armour that has protected him for this long to get back to Stede. Him having that choice, making that choice, is key.

I think the biggest thing is him realising he can be Blackbeard and Ed and whoever he wants to be without cutting off pieces of himself. So much of the Blackbeard presentation has been code-switching and hiding his real self. This time, he doesn't hide. He finds a letter and has a cry over it and the instant he's back at Stede's side, he drops his weapon and, for the first time, kisses Stede out in the open in front of people and tells him he loves him.

Ed is no longer afraid to be seen and expressing himself. He's letting himself - all aspects of himself - be seen. The clothes aren't him. They just happen to be there while he is himself.

My expectation is that S3 will see him finally being able to leave that armour behind for good and I can't wait for it.

[sailoryooons]

King of Tides | KSJ | Drabble

☾ Pairing: Pirate!Seokjin x Sea Demon!Reader 

☾ Summary: Seokjin meets a ghost of his past when he and his crew stop to celebrate for the evening. 

☾ Word Count: 1,969

☾ Genre: Pirate AU, Angst, Lovers to Enemies 

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: References to smut, explicit language, weapons and mentions of murder, betrayal, vague world building, Seokjin is an Asshole, brief references to childhood trauma, angst. 

☾ Published: Friday, January 5, 2024

☾ A/N: Drabble 2 of the 100 Drabble Challenge is prompt #67, pirates! I had no idea what I was doing with this until I wrote it. It is obviously inspired by Pirate of the Caribbean with the whole Davy Jone’s chest thing, but I very much put my own spin on it. The ring is inspired by Solomon’s Ring, which is a Christian-centric mythology that Solomon had a ring that could summon the forces of Hell. So I did that but like… sea hell hahaha. I hope you enjoy this! I’ts very different for me!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration

Seokjin is used to the occasional knife in the dark. As one of the most notorious captains and thieves on the seven seas, he’s even been the knife in the dark himself. 

When he feels the pressure of a blade against his spine tonight, he’s not surprised. His crew is too drunk to see the threat standing behind their captain, and Seokjin has made the ridiculous mistake of letting a pretty woman lure him to a dark table in the corner, away from the noise and celebrating. 

Seokjin immediately feels like a fool for letting his guard down, the worst mistake he could ever make. 

The pretty girl in front of him grins and looks at Seokjin’s assailant before nodding her head and slipping from the chair. He grits his teeth, realizing she is in on it. He clenches his fist as he starts to turn, but the knife digs into his ribs. A hard push would send it right between the two of them and into a lung. It would be a slow, gross death.

The raucous noise of the tavern buzzes in his ear as a hand taps his shoulder, signaling for him to stand. He does so slowly, looking around the tavern to see if there’s anyone he can appeal to for his plight.

No one pays him any mind, hands going up dresses or down pants, wine flowing, and crowd singing. His crew is too busy celebrating. And why shouldn’t they? They’ve just stopped at their favorite port after a successful three years of hunting a timeless piece of treasure. A power that puts Seokjin on edge.

The ring sits heavy in Seokjin’s pocket. Only Yoongi his firstmate and Namjoon his chronicler know of the power in Seokjin’s pocket, too dangerous to be left on the ship with the remainder of the treasure. He doesn’t enjoy hiding the ring from his crew, but he hasn’t quiet yet decided what to do with it. How to explain what it is that it does without scaring the loyal members of his crew.

Slowly, a hand turns Seokjin around and walks him toward the stairs, still at knifepoint. He grins as he goes, leaning his head to the side to see the person who holds him captive. The knife digs harder into his back, a warning that makes him chuckle and turn forward, holding his hands up in defeat.

“If you wanted to lure me to your bed, you just had to ask,” he says, going up the steps. His boots are heavy on the creaking wood as he goes. “I am the most handsome of pirates, but I’m also quite liberal with my affections.”

His captor says nothing as they reach the second landing. Doors line either side of the hall. Seokjin can detect all manner of lovemaking and laughter beyond each closed door. He does not typically favor staying upstairs or renting rooms for whores, preferring the rocking of the ship in the harbor and the canvas of the night sky. It makes him unfamiliar with the second floor, but he counts his steps as they go. 

They turn and go down another hall and stop at the last door of the right. It’s not a far run to get to the stairs and sound the alarm. Once he disarms his captor, he just needs to sprint and scream. He’s pretty quick on his feet and-

The knife prods him and he realizes the door to the room is open. He steps over the threshold into the room, glancing around. It’s simple enough. A single bed stands in the corner with a chest at the foot, a nightstand to the left, and a candle burning, smoke drifting toward the ceiling. 

When the door shuts behind him, Seokjin’s muscles coil. He prepares to spring, hand sliding into the front of his jacket pocket, inching towards the small knife there-

“Don’t bother,” the voice says, knife ever-present. Seokjin’s hand freezes, recognizing the rasp of your voice anywhere. “That’s not the right knife, Captain.” 

You’re right. The knife in his jacket pocket would do nothing against you, but the knife in his boot would. He’d grown lazy, no longer keeping the adamas dagger at his hip or within close reach. Three years haven’t made him feel safe, exactly, but he had started to think that you were still captive in that little home he’d left you in.

Evidently, it’s a mistake that will cost him. 

Now he’s nervous. You push him further into the room with your palm but remove the knife from his back. He doesn’t reach down to the weapon in his boot, stuck between fear and the desire to see you - to talk to you again. 

When he turns, his heart cracks open and starts to bleed. 

The last time Seokjin saw you is fresh in his memory. You’d been chained to the bed you shared in a small island home off the coast of the Americas. He remembers the smell of your skin, like salt and driftwood. The cool touch of your lips against his burning skin. You always felt like the depths of the ocean, every part of you fluid as you’d fucked him last night, your breath sea breeze against his mouth, cries a haunting siren song.

And your eyes. Seokjin sees the inhuman blue-green glow of your eyes every night. 

Now, those same eyes are staring at him, glowing in the dark. You stand so far in the shadows that it’s hard to make out any of your features or expressions, but Seokjin has your face burned into every part of his memory. The bow of your mouth, the slope of your nose, the roundness of your cheeks. It’s all there along with the knowledge that he’d betrayed you. Chained you. Loved you. 

When you step into the light, Seokjin holds his breath. You’re so beautiful. It’s what lured him to you in the first place, a sailor to a siren, but he knows you’re so much more than a pretty face and glowing eyes. You’re also incredibly smart and wicked, a ruthlessness in you as brutal as the sea running in your veins, an unpredictably like a storm destroying the tropics. 

A pirate by trade. Daughter of Leviathan by nature. 

“You must be talented to get out of those cuffs. We should have used them more” Seokjin doesn’t know what else to say. You’re not advancing further into the room, and he’s worried reaching for his knife will startle you. 

Behind him, the candle casts an orange glow on your face. It makes the sneer much more twisted, the furrowed brows as you glower harsher. Your features are sharper than he remembers, your eyes burning with the unnatural glow of a demon of the deep. You are murderous.

“I’m the favorite daughter of Leviathan, King of the Depths, Destroyer of Seas, and Maker of Tides. You think he would leave me to rot?” 

“No, I suppose he doesn’t want that pretty face to wilt.” He tries to appear casual, spinning and tossing himself on the bed. You don’t move, eyes tracking him. “I suppose you’ve been following me all this time, then?”

“I have far more important things to do.”

“Perhaps, but you’d always loved revenge.”

“I loved you.” 

There. You said it.

Seokjin doesn’t say anything for a moment, shocked to silence. Usually, you like to spar with your words, dancing around what you want to say with quick barbs and turns of phrase. Tonight, you cut right to it, leaving all playfulness out of your voice.

It makes his heart squeeze painfully. In the years that you sailed together, he cannot recall a time that you’ve ever been so direct. Even when you loved him most. Even when you were at your most vulnerable. 

Perhaps you are here to kill him after all. 

“So you’re here to win me back over?” he tries, desperate to get on familiar ground. Desperate to goad you. To make you snap back, to throw an insult. “You’ll need more than a knife to do that.”

“Give me the ring.”

“What do you want with it?” 

“The likes of you shouldn’t have the power to summon the demons of the depths.” 

“What if I’m in peril and need to call you?”

“You had me!” You roar, the force of your voice shaking the room, the candle almost guttering, the window panes shaking. He hears the scream downstairs, the entire building rattle with the rage of the ocean in your voice. 

Seokjin drops the act, sitting up and squeezing his fists to fight the nausea of guilt twisting his stomach. He can feel your rage fill up the room like a solid thing, a cold pressure pressing on his skin as the candle on the nightstand flickers. 

“Humans are not made to command Leviathan and his children” you growl, stepping further into the room. Standing closer to the light, Seokjin realizes your eyes are watery. He sucks in a sharp breath. He’s never seen you cry. “You are weak and petty, your lives but a speck of sand in fathomless oceans. You are selfish and greedy and cruel.” 

“Are demons not the same? Do you not fight amongst yourselves for power? Do you not cause chaos among the seas? Do you not hunger for power, lust, and riches?” 

“Those things belong to us.”

Seokjin stands abruptly. “Now they belong to me!” 

“Seokjin.”

“Now I will command the seas. I will have the power to rein in the monster of the depths when he wants to destroy innocent ships. When he wants to send storms against islands. When he wants to swallow the souls on the sea. He will bow to me, now.”

“This is madness.”

“This is fair.” He feels his heart rate speed up. Feels rage pumping through his system. Feels like the little boy clinging to a piece of driftwood as the sea destroys the ship he and his family were sailing on, feels the burn of saltwater in his lungs as the ocean drags him down, feels-

“You’d risk the world for a sense of vengeance for your lost childhood?” your voice is barely audible, a sea breeze. “The infamous Captain Seokjin of the Blue Moon, Scourge of the Seas, so afraid of losing control of the tide that he’d dare assert his dominance over it.”

“Captain Seokjin, King of Tides has a better ring to it.”

You glance at his pocket where you know the ring sits heavy. He can feel the power ebbing from the cool metal as thought it senses you in the room. Like calling to like. A tool to control Leviathan and all of his demonic children of the sea sensing one of those very creatures in front of him.

“The sea will bow to no one.” 

A blade glints in your hand. Seokjin finally realizes why you refuse to jest. Why there are tears in your eyes. You’re not here to negotiate or to let him loose. He truly has fallen out of your favor, and you’re here to take what he used you to steal. 

He slowly bends down, watching you all the while. You let him remove the knife from his boot, kind enough to offer him a fair fight. “The sea loved you, you know?” 

He knows you’re not just talking about the oceans he sails. His throat constricts as he nods. “I love her.” 

You appraise him once more, uncanny eyes flickering. If his admission that there is still warmth flickering for you has an effect, it doesn’t show. 

“Your love means nothing. You betrayed her and now you will meet your death, King of Tides.” 

He grips his knife firmly. The ring is heavy in his pocket. “I welcome the attempt.”  

[writermuses]

@marimelwrites

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 46

Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: 1% plot, aphrodisiac use, no holes barred, group sex/orgy, lite kink (bit of shibari, bit of breeding, degradation, praise, domination), sex workers

I'm pretty proud that I could write this much smut; sorry it took so long!

Doing Business

Kid was getting impatient. A minute ago he had half a dozen women fawning over him and now he had just one. Don't get him wrong, she was super hot. But why did the rest all run off to Y/N? It seemed the rest of the crew was dealing with the same problem, though none of them seemed to mind. One pretty lady in their lap at a time was enough to keep them occupied. If he was gonna pay good money, he wanted the full experience. He was soon distracted by barely contained tits in his face as the woman hand-fed him. Kid had told the madame that he wanted to be treated like the Pirate King, after all, he would be in due time. 

You were ushered into one of the back rooms by what felt like hundreds of hands and excited giggles. The woman you knew as Jade held your hands in hers seated across from each other on luxurious stools. She kissed both of your cheeks and had tear streaks down her own even though she was clearly happy. You were honestly surprised at yourself for remembering her name. Your paths crossed very briefly when you had attacked the ship her and some other women were being held captive on. There wasn't supposed to be any 'merchandise' on the ship, but they had failed to offload the cargo when they didn't get a fair offer from the skin trader. The only one that was inadvertently hurt was Jade. Her hip had been crushed by falling debris and you had to carry her off the ship. You had done your best to set it but there wasn't much you could do for her. At the next safe island, you had made sure they had a place to stay for a few nights and helped them as much as you could before setting off. 

"I knew you weren't gone! They kept saying you were dead but I didn't believe it for a second." Jade gestured at the rest of the girls who were knelt down or standing near you. "These are some of the other women you've set free, either the same night as me or from different places. They all seem to find me somehow." 

"I was gone for some time, just stranded on an island. The pirates I came here with rescued me." You left out the bit where you tried to kill each other. "I don't understand. Why are you all still doing... this? I thought you would all return home or find work that you actually enjoy." 

Jade laughed. "Yeah we get that a lot. It's different. We work for ourselves now. Some of us did this sort of thing before we were captured and some of us were taken so young we don't have any other marketable skills." Jade paused. "We can choose our own clients and we can turn anyone we want down. And what's not to like, especially when clients look like your pals out there. We're completely free to make our own decisions. Thanks to you."

"Any decent person would do the same thing. There's a lack of decent people in the world is all." 

"So if you're with them," she gestured in your crewmate's direction, "have you stopped the whole Sea Snake thing?"

"Course not." Seeing these women made you more resolute in your personal mission. 

Jade smiled. "Good." 

A thought occurred to you. You could help Jade more than you had those some odd years ago now that you had a Devil Fruit. "Hey. I have some new abilities. Would you like it if I fixed your hip? Correctly this time."

She happily accepted and made a few more requests on behalf of her girls when you explained your power. When you were done, Jade no longer limped, and her and her girls were free of the slave marks that marred their skin. You had also noticed that a few of the girls had matching tattoos.

"What with the snake tattoos?"

"Oh! You didn't make the connection?" According to Jade, they were in honor of you, just as the club itself was, hence the name and the entrance decor.

It was a bit embarrassing. You didn't feel like you were special enough to be praised in this manner. You did what was right.

Jade stretched her newly healed leg and walked around on it. "This is incredible. I haven't walked without pain in so long." You winced knowing that it was your fault. She must have noticed. "Please don't feel bad. A little wince is better than being traded like meat." A smug grin crept across Jade's face. "I haven't been able to be on top in ages." She turned to you. "Say, which one of your comrades wouldn't mind giving this hip a test drive?" 

"Probably any of them, but if you want to be on top, probably the masked blonde one or the gray-blue-haired one. Sorry, I forgot you knew their names, Killer or Heat."

She nodded. "Girls, treat Y/N to some relaxation." She pointed to a few other girls. "You come with me. You've kept our guests waiting long enough." 

You were whisked away yet again to another chamber, this time with a bath. The girls stripped you down and languidly lathered you up, taking their time, not allowing you to lift a finger. All you had to do was lay back and relax. Their touch was gentle, every now and then their fingers grazed are sensitive areas seemingly by accident, but it was all part of the experience. They put you in a silk robe and led you into a chamber with a large bed. The light was low, lit only by hundreds of candles. The scent was foreign to you, yet very pleasant. You already felt relaxed from the warm bath. Next, each girl was stationed at a different part of you, rubbing massage oil into your skin with skilled hands. An interesting shot was offered to you in a small glass, a special tincture to help you relax. You let your head fall back as they worked every muscle with increasing pressure. There was even someone at your head massaging your scalp. You felt someone put something soft over your closed eyes. What they neglected to let you in on was that this was the aphrodisiac room, where everything was carefully crafted to heighten and entice your senses, the candles, the massage oil, the food, even the material of the sheets. You hadn't begun to feel the effects yet, currently feeling like you were melting into the bed itself. 

Elsewhere, Wire was allowing himself to give up control, being patient as his body was contorted and bound by silk rope. Every knot made his dick twitch. The girls were more than happy to stroke him or give him a kitten lick as a tease. When they were satisfied that he was begging hard enough, they would allow him a release. However, currently, they were keen on touching each other in front of him, not allowing him any touch or taste. Blood rushed to his cock, making it stand at full attention. It was harder than he knew for the girls to resist touching such an impressive member. His usual self would want them in his position, he would want them to beg. He rarely allowed himself the opportunity to play the other role. Any movement of his hips or flex of his muscles made the ropes dig harder into his skin. 

"His cock is so desperate for us. Look at it weeping." One of the girls blew air across it, making Wire shiver. "You want us to touch it so badly don't you. What kind of pathetic man would grovel to two whores?" 

He clenched his teeth to stifle a whine. Wire's cock ached from the absence of touch. He watched as the girls took turns tasting each other, cumin on each others' tongues. One of the girls took her own slick and wiped it down his shaft in one stroke. He let the groan out this time. More pre-cum leaked from him. He was in a kneeling position on the bed with his thighs spread apart. Another of the girls backed her cunt up to him without touching him. He could feel the warmth though, and he hissed as the ropes dug into him again, instinctively trying to rut against her. The other girl dove her fingers into her partner, demonstrating her wetness by eliciting squelches from her pussy. She removed her fingers and held her open so Wire could get a good look at the glistening pink walls. 

"Please. Touch me. Use me to get off." Wire gave in. "I-I want to be..."

"What do you want?"

"I want to be your sex toy." 

It would have been embarrassing how quickly he came when he was finally sheathed within one of them, but he didn't care because it felt so good and because he was hard again soon after. 

In the next room, Heat was sticky. One after the other, girls took turns riding his face. Heat loved eating pussy, so it was no wonder what he wanted to do with his time. his face was coated in the various combined juices of his partners. He licked his lips and groaned. The sweet, metallic taste of pussy clung to his tongue. He had cum a few times without his cock even being touched, gooey white stripes were scattered on his belly. Using it as a lubricant, one of the girls ground her center against his abdomen. Another was riding his thigh. Heat was a giver. He got off on getting other people off. He loved watching the pleasure take over another's features while they used him. He loved feeling the wetness against his skin or his tongue.

Usually, he enjoyed being degraded. Today, however, he was being praised, and by the Madame herself, who had joined in late. He was being such a good boy for them, letting them use him however they pleased. They praised his tongue for how perfectly it lapped up their juices. They praised his lips and how they expertly worked their clits. His thighs were so muscular and fit to be ridden. His hands were rough and wonderfully calloused in a way that felt exquisite against their skin, brushing against their nipples and squeezing their breasts. They saved his cock for last, the Madame stood on the balls of her feet, guiding herself up and down his shaft, while another girl stifled his moans with her cunt. They rode him like a tandem bike until he couldn't last any longer. 

Killer was enjoying himself down the hall. He had wanted to try this with you and Kid sometime, but hadn't gotten around to it, though he was pretty sure you would both be into it. He was balls deep in one of the girls, while the other was balls deep in him, with a strap-on of course. He could have cum several times by now, though he stopped himself from getting too close.  He had the first girl's knees next to her ears, bending her in half. She hadn't stopped wailing since he started. These kinds of days were a dream, the ones where the girls thought they should be the ones paying for a service for how good they were getting fucked.  

Killer's hips stuttered as he got close again. The feeling of getting fucked himself was almost too much. He was feeling pleasure from both sides as the girl behind him, rammed into his sweet spot. He had to stop. He didn't want to finish yet. Killer was used to being the giver, today, he wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be the one cumming over and over again. He let go of his self-control, pumping straight through his orgasm, allowing himself to cum. He let out a guttural moan as he was fucked from behind until he saw stars, spilling his seed until it leaked from around where his cock was buried.

They allowed him no rest as he was pushed onto his back. The girl with the strap puled out during the rearrangement, and slowly pushed the silicone cock back into Killer, causing another small spurt of cum to leak from his tip. Her hand smeared it down his cock as she started pumping it back to life. He wanted to cum over and over again and that's exactly what he was going to get.

Kid, ever the problem child, grew more and more frustrated. He had several girls to accompany him, at the moment two were taking turns sucking his cock. It had been half-hard the entire time. He hadn't even drank that much, so what gives? He demanded more girls, with little improvement. He was being pampered with any number of techniques. Some nipple play here, some asshole teasing there, and still his cock refused to stand tall. It wasn't the girls. They were all quite stunning, each in her own unique way. He knew why it was like this, and couldn't admit it to himself. 

Only when he let his eyes close, and pretend that it was you who was touching him, did his erection grow. He had to pretend it was your tight cunt wrapped around his cock when one of the girls was riding him. He had to pretend it was you who was stroking him or touching him. He had to pretend it was you when he fucked them. And he had to pretend it was you to cum. But it wasn't satisfying. He had to have the real thing. 

Kid begrudgingly got up. He tugged his pants on but left everything else on the floor. He walked in the direction that your collar alerted him to, pausing briefly to listen in to the other rooms. Everyone else could enjoy themselves freely. Why couldn't he? It wasn't fair. This was something completely new to him. Never had he been like this. He nearly bowled over the Madame, who had slipped into the hallway. 

"Something wrong? Were my girls not satisfactory?"

"Nah. They were fine."

She studied his face. "But they weren't what you wanted, or rather, who you wanted, were they?" She had seen it enough times to know.

Kid frowned. 

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Kid frowned even more.

"Have you told her how you feel?"

"And say what?!" This was so stupid. Talking about this in a whorehouse with the head whore. "That I haven't been able to get her dumb face out of my head since I first saw her? That she's so fucking annoying she makes my stomach hurt? That she makes me insane when she does stupid shit that might kill her? Those aren't feelings!" Kid released a breath. It felt good to say something out loud. He hoped no one had heard it though.

"You're right. Those aren't feelings." She held up one finger. "It's one feeling."

"That's not-! I don't-!" Kid stepped past her. "Where's Y/N?" Kid turned and growled. "UNRELATED!" 

"Very end of the hallway." The Madame smiled a knowing smile. How lucky you were to have someone so passionate. She walked to the back room, where the girls hung out or recovered and freshened up. She walked through to another back room filled with tools and props. Someone had left out the ingredients for their infamous Snake Venom shot, a powerful aphrodisiac, except there was a lot less of the active ingredient left in the bottle than there should have been. Whoever mixed it must have not been paying attention and doubled the amount. It was perfectly safe to ingest, but it was no wonder you hadn't come out of the back room yet. It was going to take a while for the effects to wear off. 

Kid huffed and stomped down the hallway, stopping at the end. He pressed his ear against the door. There was a lot of whimpering and whining behind it, maybe even... crying? It was enough for Kid to step in. Whatever scene lay in front of him, he could never have conjured in his head. You were lying across dark sheets with a silk robe falling off your body, which was bare underneath. He could see that your skin was coated in sweat and your entire body was trembling. There was a blindfold over your eyes and the girls surrounding you were teasing you with feathers or ice cubes against your sensitive skin. There were soft, loose restraints holding your wrists and ankles to keep you from flailing too much. Your thighs rubbed against each other as much as the restraints allowed and your back arched off the bed with frustration. The girls didn't give into your pleads to be touched, hence the tear streaked cheeks that Kid could see from the doorway.

"Please. I want- I want-"

"What is it?" One of the girls giggled.

"G-gimme my boys." You panted. "They'll h-help m-me."

"What a coincidence. One of your boys just walked in."

Kid felt himself be pushed towards you, the door slamming behind him. He was pushed until his knees touched the edge of the bed, amber eyes devouring your erotic form. A girl took his hand and spread it on your thigh. The rough skin of his palm elicited a moan that went straight to his groin. A moan like that just from one small touch? His eyes drifted to the sheets below you and how soaked they were. What was going on with you that you had clearly been cumming for a while and still acted as if you hadn't been touched at all?

You couldn't see anything but there was a faint smell of weld smoke and oil. "Kid?" Judging from the feel of his hand, it was definitely Kid. He had the roughest palm since he only had the one to work with. You heard the jingle and felt the tug of your collar. "Kid!" Your wrists were held back from trying to grab him. "Oh fuck please, Kid. Please." You couldn't articulate anything past that. In the time that you had been in this room, something happened to you. The part of your brain that controlled lust was uninhibited, running rampant. The thing about sex with strangers is that it didn't matter how they perceived you because you would never see them again. When you were with one of your crewmates, part of you was preoccupied with keeping up your prideful, tough girl front. But now, you couldn't give any less of a shit how Kid saw you. You felt like you would combust if you didn't cum soon. Whatever they had given you made it impossible to be satisfied. Even when they made you cum over and over again without ever touching any of your erogenous zones, it wasn't enough. You needed to get fucked and you needed it now. 

A chuckle rumbled in his throat. You were so cute begging without any pride holding you back. It was raw lust controlling you. "Don't ya worry, doll. Yer captain will take care of ya." 

You whined at his promising words, toes curling in anticipation. A breath was shakily sucked through your teeth as you felt his hand slide up your thigh to the silk tie that was still around your middle and untie it. His hand was splayed over your stomach and dragged up to your throat, pausing to squeeze before continuing to cup your cheek. You turned your head, chasing his thumb with your mouth. He let you suck on his thumb before switching it with his index and middle fingers. You swiped your tongue against them and your cheeks were hollow as you sucked your saliva off them. Kid pressed them further past your lips until you gagged. 

Kid took your saliva and used it to pump himself, not that he really needed to since he had been rock hard the second he stepped in the room. He got on top of you and seemed to change his mind about what he was going to do, turning around so that his cock loomed over your face. He positioned it against your lips and you opened wide. Kid's girth was hard to take. He moved slowly at first so you could get used to the feeling, at the same time bending down to lick a stripe down your cunt, tasting all the times you'd cum without him. There was a vibration around his cock as you moaned.

You didn't even care that Kid tasted like another woman's pussy, or that he was fucking your face, one of your least favorite things to do, especially with him because his cock was suffocatingly big. All you cared about was getting to your climax. More tears fell from your eyes and saliva leaked from the corners of your mouth as Kid moved faster. You were hardly aware of yourself gagging on him because a few strokes of his tongue were sending you to the moon. You felt the brush of teeth against your clit and that was your undoing. His cock muffled your cry of release. The restraints tugged against your skin as your body attempted to contort. Your muscles were beginning to get sore with the amount of times they had clenched during your orgasms. Without warning, salty, thick cum poured down your throat.

"Oh fuck!" Kid came much faster than he thought. He got off on how only a few of his touches turned you into a writhing mess. He took his cock from your mouth and watched you cough, choking on his seed. "What's wrong, doll? Couldn't take it?" He turned around to wipe the cum from the edges of your mouth and stuff those fingers back between your lips so you could clean them off.

"Need more." Your back arched off the bed again. You hadn't stopped moving, trying to gain more friction between your legs. "Captain, fuck my pussy please," you begged. "Touch me."

Kid was definitely going to ask for a to go sample of whatever they gave you. He trailed his fingers from your mouth to the apex of your slit, where he rubbed in slow, lazy circles. He could already feel you trembling against his touch. "What if I want yer ass?"

You shivered and groaned. "Take whatever you want. Just m-make me cum some more." It was confusing to want to stop cumming because it was beginning to exhaust you, yet still crave the release. You couldn't see because of the blindfold, but you could tell Kid was grinning by the inflection of his voice.

The girls who were in the room had mostly dissipated, though a few were still left in case anyone needed anything, or wanted them to jump back in. Kid asked one of them for lube. He spread a decent amount on his fingers.

You could hear some adjusting of position and feel the weight shift on the bed. There was a wet squelch of lube being squirted from the bottle. Then a cool sensation of the liquid touching your asshole. You bit your lip as Kid slipped his index finger in easily. He pushed in and out a few times before adding his middle finger. With that came a mild burning with the stretch. The third finger was when you started to squirm. It danced the line between pleasure and pain. There was another cold sensation as Kid pressed his metal thumb to your bud. A low vibration was added with the fourth finger to ease the painful stretch. 

By this time, Kid was fully hard again. He removed his hand from your ass and transferred the lubricant to his cock, adding more as well. He admired the small gape before pushing his cock in. Even with four fingers, there was still some stretching to be done. 

The feeling of being entered made your pussy clench around nothing. You were full and yet empty at the same time. You felt Kid release the restraints on your ankles and you greedily wrapped your legs around him, pushing against his ass to make him move.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you against his own until he bottomed out. Fuck, he loved seeing your hole stuffed, and he loved being stuffed in it. He loved seeing how open and pink and wet your greedy pussy was, just begging for another cock. For now, his finger would have to do. 

You groaned when you felt him press his metal finger against your entrance. He couldn't go past the joint for safety reasons, but the cold sensation and something to grip against was good enough. He moved his finger and his hips at the same time, building that release yet again in the pit of your belly. You were getting closer with every movement, even if it wasn't a full thrust. Kid removed his finger and focused on pounding into you, sensing that you want more. 

"F-fuck. K-keep go-nghhh." You threw your head back and came hard on his cock. 

Kid couldn't resist letting himself cum again. Your ass was so tight around him, and like a vice when you came. The way you were slowly coming undone turned him on. You didn't want to stop and neither did he until you were fucked silly and stupid. Even now, right after you had cum, you were already grinding on his softening cock, still in your ass. 

"Girlie, stop squirmin' or I'm gonna get Wire to tie ya up."

"Oh fuck yes. Please."

Kid was very much used to you resisting everything he said and was taken aback.

"Tell him to gimme that monster cock, too."  

Kid untied the rest of your restraints and flipped you over his lap, giving your ass a hard spank. "Mine ain't good enough?" 

Thoughts were difficult to form when every word and every touch went straight to the nerves connected to your cunt. "I n-need more."  

Kid spread your cheeks to watch his cum leak from your stretched hole. "Little slut wants all her holes filled." Kid saw your pussy clench. 

You nodded. Getting fucked by all of them at once would fix you, probably. 

Kid beckoned one of the girls to fetch Wire and another to get rope. He would get the others when the time came, but he figured Wire might have some fun with you first. The tall man walked through the door a few minutes later, looking bewildered, glancing between you and Kid. Then a dark grin appeared on his face. There was noticeable rope burn in symmetric lines across his body that Kid didn't comment on. 

"Look what we have here." He liked what he saw. You looked like a bitch in heat, melted across Kid's lap and literally begging to get fucked. 

"She won't keep her ass still." He nodded to the various ropes that were piled on the bed. "Ya know I'm not patient enough for that shit." 

Wire was all too eager to grab you from Kid's lap and throw you on the bed, facedown. He had wanted to bind and gag you since you came on board, mostly for practical reasons. He grabbed both of your hands and placed them behind your back, starting from there, he tied your forearms together horizontally. He wanted to create a harness around you so they could manhandle you however they liked by grabbing it. 

You felt your arms become more and more immobilized as Wire tied you up. The large man had his knee on your back, firmly keeping you in place. The pressure pressed your pelvis into the sheets and if you wiggled your hips you could achieve som friction. You moaned as Wire pressed you down harder. Wire slapped your ass, making you stop. When the sting wore off, you couldn't help but do it again, earning another smack. The cycle repeated enough that by the time Wire had finished, your ass was full of bright red handprints. 

Wire flipped you over again so you were face up. "You're being a brat." 

Still blindfolded, you could tell where Wire was based on the way the bed shifted. You stretched your foot out to find Wire's cock, rubbing the underside with the sole of your foot, lightly pressing it to his abdomen. "Give it to me," you whined. You pulled your ankles up to the back of your thighs and let your knees fall open. 

"Needy little brat. You're dripping for me. Tell me how badly you want it." Wire loomed over you, bringing his fingers to your entrance, touching you so lightly you wouldn't be able to feel it normally.

"Wire, please. I h-have to have it. I h-have to c-cum on it." Your hips bucked against his fingertips.

"Will you be a good fuck toy and take everything I give you?"

You nodded vigorously. "I'll do whatever you w-want." 

"Don't cum until I say you can. Understand?" 

You nodded again, legs shaking with need as he pressed his fingers into you. He worked you open to make sure you could handle him. You didn't know if you could actually keep yourself from finishing in this state, so you hoped he would go easy on you. He withdrew his fingers, satisfied. The continuous orgasms helped you stay wet and ready. Wire pressed the tip of his cock into you. You held your breath, trying not to cum just from that. He couldn't sheath his entire cock into you due to its length, but you took more of him than he thought you could. 

Kid stroked himself at a lazy pace watching the scene before him. He twitched seeing your cunt at its limit and he swore he could see a slight bulge in your stomach whenever Wire went all the way in. Your increasingly needy voice brought his erection back to life in no time at all. 

"Fuck. You're gripping me so tight. Don't you dare cum yet." He felt your walls twitch around him. 

The threats coming from Wire were only making it harder for you to contain your orgasm. You could feel your thighs shaking, trying to hold it off. "I'm c-can't hold it." Wire fucked into you at a fast pace, bumping into your cervix with every thrust. 

"You can. Your slutty pussy is just being greedy." He could tell you really were on the edge with how sloppy his thrusts sounded when his hips slammed into yours. He could barely pull out you were clenched so hard around him. 

"P-please." You were gritting your teeth and tears fell from behind the fabric covering your eyes trying to hold out. 

"Take all my cum first and then you can."

There were no more words coming out so you nodded. All your thinking power went to your focus on not finishing. It was like he was dangling you over the edge but not letting you go over. 

"Fuck!" Wire released his cum inside, more spurting out with every stroke, much of it spilling out around his shaft as it disappeared in your hole. 

When you felt the twitch of his cock and the sticky sensation on your thighs, you finally let go. Screaming as your walls tried to milk more cum out of Wire. Without a second to spare, Wire lifted your torso from the bed so you were in a sitting position and you felt his hot, sticky member on your cheek. 

"Clean it off."

You were still blindfolded, and you couldn't use your hands, so you used your mouth to feel what you were doing. You licked all the juices from him until it was only you saliva coating it. And even there, you didn't stop. Finding the tip, you sucked on it, getting the last salty drops from his slit, and taking as much of him as you could in your mouth to make him hard again. You felt his hand in your hair. 

"Good girl. Keep doing that." Wire pressed your face into him until you were gagging. He grabbed you by the ropes and laid you down before getting on top of you again, this time his legs were on either side of your chest.

You could feel his heavy member sitting between your breasts. His hands were big enough to take one breast in each, which was saying something since your chest wasn't small. The tip of his cock pressed against your lips and you opened your mouth letting him in. You heard him spit and felt him squish your tits around his shaft. He was big enough that he could tittyfuck you and you could suck him off at the same time. 

This was the scene that Heat walked into. He was told he was needed here, but it looked like you had been well taken care of. Kid held a finger up to his lips, indicating to Heat not to reveal himself. He walked around to get a better view. Your knees were pressed together, though the mess on your thighs and how wet the sheets were betrayed the amount of times you or someone else had cum. 

"Clean my cum out of her." Wire didn't have to say it twice. 

You assumed it was Kid who parted your legs. You quivered at the feeling of hot breath against your thighs and then against your exposed pussy. Your mouth was too stuffed to say anything. All you could do was moan as lips moved against your overstimulated clit, then licked down your center. A tongue slowly lapped at your folds, teasing your entrance as it got closer. This didn't feel like Kid. This felt like someone making out with your pussy, not bullying it. So it could either be Heat or Killer, though you hadn't heard anyone come in. The tongue moved in and out of you, dipping deep to reach all of Wire's mess. The next pass of the tongue lingered on your clit, where lips stayed to suck at it. Wire's weight prevented your back from coming off the bed, though your hips could still move to grind. 

You felt one hand come off your breast before you felt a slap across the face. 

"Don't pay attention to him. Suck my cock."

You moved your head as much as you could to please Wire. You flicked your tongue along the edge of his glans, swirled it around the tip, pressed it into his slit. 

You felt another slap on the opposite side. 

"Too slow." 

It hurt, yet you wanted more of it. And you again, were so close to another release, clit aching in someone's mouth. You tried to go faster and couldn't do much more than you were already doing. You felt both of Wire's hands leave your breasts and his weight shift. Then suddenly his hands were gripping your hair, tilting your head up slightly. 

"If you can't listen to instruction, I'm gonna teach you how." Wire used his grip as leverage and pulled you along his shaft while he fucked your throat. 

The juxtaposition of the rough treatment on one end and gentle on the other was confusing to your horny brain. It hurt your throat when Wire forced his way deeper, and you tried your best not to gag. You very much enjoyed the way he was roughly tugging your hair though and it made you groan around his shaft. It was hard to breathe with Wire's cock taking up all the space in your throat. Black tugged at the edges of your vision as you teetered on the edge of both passing out and climaxing. With a gasp, you could breathe again and you felt warm spurts hit your face and chest. The rush of oxygen sent fire through your lungs and pushed you over the edge. Your thighs squeezed around the source of pleasure between your legs, which must have been Heat, judging by the hair texture. Killer's was softer. You shrieked with the intensity of the orgasm, irritating your now sore throat.

Wire grabbed Heat from between your thighs by his hair and shoved him into your chest. "Clean that up too, dog."

You felt Heat lick and suck at different parts of your chest, lingering around your nipples to play with them a little. He moved up to your neck, burying his face in its crook to bite, earning a whine from you. 

Wire's eyes narrowed. "Heat, are you fucking around or are you doing as I told you?" 

A whimper came from Heat above you and he went back to licking up the dots of cum on your face. 

"Heat," you whined. "Kiss me." Your legs wrapped around him, pinning him place. "Fuck me." 

"You want to get fucked by this mongrel?" You were startled by how close Wire was to your ear. "Fine. You want to be fucked by an animal then you can get fucked like one." Wire shoved Heat off you and flipped you on your stomach, pulling your ass up in the air. 

You felt Heat behind you. Your cunt was slick enough he slid right in, causing you both to moan. Heat grabbed your arms and used them like a handle to pull you backwards onto him. His ground his cock up into you, reaching for the spot he knew would make you cum. 

Wire's voice was in your ear again. "Tell him what you want."

"P-please make me cum, H-Heat."

"No, tell him what you really want." Wire prompted. "You're a bitch in heat aren't you? Tell me you want to get bred." 

"I-" It was hard to think of anything when Heat was purposefully trying to make you cum quickly. 

"Tell him or I'll make him stop." 

"B-breed me, Heat. Fuck!" Saying it out loud made your cunt clench. "Fucking breed me!"

Kid had walked back in with Killer at the right time because hearing that tear from your lips made them both hard.

It was too much. Heat finally got you to your climax without a moment to spare. Those words had an instant effect of him. You were faintly aware of his dick twitching inside you as you pressed your face int the sheets and cried out. You couldn't even hold yourself up anymore, sinking down with your legs splayed as soon as Heat pulled out. There was a hand on your back.

"Look at you, breadcrumb. I guess you're more of a glazed donut now. You did so well taking everyone." Killer cooed, leaning down to be closer to you. "Do you think you could go one more round? For me?"

You nodded. The effects of the shot were wearing off and exhaustion was setting in. 

"That's our girl." He kissed the top of your head and pulled you to sit upright, holding on so you didn't fall over. He admired how pink and puffy your pussy was after hours of orgasms. It was still so wet and glistening, partially with your own fluids and partially Heat's cum. 

You felt the weight shift on the mattress again, in front of you and behind you. You were pulled into a lap, an erection rubbing your lower stomach. Then you were lifted and placed on it, as hips thrusting into you slowly, before you were settled into a lap. You had to lean forward and rest against him. You leaned up slightly to kiss his neck, but were met with helmet after a few seconds kissing upward. You made a noise of disappointment. 

Kid's voice came from behind you. "Sorry, doll. There's company." 

You felt him kiss up your back and bite the back of your neck, sending a shiver up your spine. Killer's hand grabbed your asscheeks and spread them apart, using them to stroke himself a few times before stopping to steady you. Again, you felt the cool sensation of lube being applied to your asshole. You expected one of them to lay back, but they both stayed on their knees, sandwiching you between them. You bit down on Killer's shoulder and groaned as Kid pushed his way into you with his dick. Killer held your hips and helped you ride both of them at once. You were doubled over, leaned against Killer's shoulder and drooling on it in a matter of minutes. You were so weak and so close to climaxing again. 

"Y-you both f-feel so g-good. So b-big." 

"That's it, bunny. Cum for us."

"Let it out."

You clenched around both of them, moaning wantonly with your orgasm, feeling your slick coat Killer and run down your thighs. Panting, you fell backward onto Kid's shoulder. He trailed a metal finger up your center and made a weak spark against your nipple, making you gasp. He caught it with his own mouth, placed over yours. He wanted to taste the sweet noises coming from your mouth. Your tongues mingled and his grunts were exchanged for your moans. With kiss-swollen lips, you pulled away.

"Killer, p-please. I want t-to kiss you." 

He made a noise. 

You don't know when she got here, but you heard Jade's voice, "Girls, l-leave us." 

Why did it sound like...? 

Suddenly, you could see. Wire grabbed the blindfold from you and tied it around Jade's eyes instead. Jade who was in very much the same position as you, though with Heat and Wire. "O-oh." You supposed you didn't hear her over yourself even though they were right next to you. Your eyes were glued to where Wire's dick was fully buried in her ass. Impressive. 

"Do you like watching, too?" Killer teased. "She liked watching you so much she had to come try it." 

You looked back at him to see that he had removed his helmet, and promptly attacked his lips with your own. Slowly, you felt your arms becoming more free. Killer's hands had left your hips to untie you. When you were freed, you stretched your arms, leaning back again and lacing them around Kid's thick neck. The change in angle had Killer hard-pressed against your clit from the inside. Kid pushed his mouth against yours again, panting. With your own noises stifled by him, you could hear Jade's pleasure tumbling from her lips. Her noises went straight to your pussy. The urge struck to break from Kid and pull Jade to your mouth instead. She tasted sweet, and even sweeter were the high-pitched cries coming from her mouth.

"C-cumming," she wailed and leaned on Heat, twitching. 

"Oh fuck. I'm- g-onna..." Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt your walls flutter around Killer and your ass clench around Kid. Your cry almost sounded pained. You were starting to cramp and your throat was sore from all the panting, screaming, and Wire. You were aching and you wanted to be done, but your body was still ready for another.

Killer could tell you were about used up. "It's ok. You're doing great." He held you against his chest with a hand on your back.

"O-one more." You panted. "Gotta c-cum one more t-time." You pushed yourself up. "L-let me do it."

"Are ya sure, bunny? Ya look fucked out." 

As an answer, you moved yourself up and down, grinding your hips against both of them. They let you do the work, but they helped support you, Killer with his hands on your hips, and Kid with his hands slightly higher. If this wasn't an orgy in a brothel with other people present, it might have been romantic. You swapped between kissing Killer and Kid. Your eyes were half-lidded, and you were basically on autopilot with a singular goal in mind. 

"K-Kid can you do t-that thing?"

He had no idea what you were referring to and you didn't appear to be in a state where you could coherently answer. So he guessed. In the background, it sounded like the others were wrapping up too.

As you rode them, Kid pressed his metal finger against your clit, vibrating the metal. A stream of curses left your mouth as you approached your orgasm. You felt the molten hot core within your belly burn brighter with every drag of their cocks inside you. "W-want you t-to c-um first." Your legs were starting to feel like jelly. "Wan to f-f-feel it." Kid pressed his finger more firmly to your core and laughed darkly, making your legs shake. He had no intentions of finishing first. Killer pushed you onto his cock and thrusted into your sweet spot, having you burying your face into his chest to moan. Kid pulled you back so Killer could see your face. There was the slightest, tinging spark, like what Kid had done to your nipple earlier, causing the little bundle of nerves to be set off. You were pressed into Kid's chest with your back arching, eyes rolled back, mouth open without noise coming out because you couldn't release your breath. You heard a moan from Killer as your cunt milked him dry, seed spilling from between your thighs. A flood of warmth spread over your body as endorphins rushed through your blood. Kid's dick was buried in your ass and the way you tightened around him made it hard to move.

Kid made a few more pumps into your ass before falling over the edge himself, muttering into your ear, almost a whisper, "Ah fuck! I love ya." 

Next

Tag list: @bbnbhm @nocturnalrorobin

[ofheroesandvillains]

New Purpose

Halbrand x elf!reader

Words: 4k

Request: by anon – “I have a Halbrand x reader request/idea. Where the reader is an elf and she and Sauron fell in love in the really early days of middle earth. Because of this Morgoth killed her because she made Sauron soft. She then goes through the whole elf reincarnation thing and reincarnated to be alive during the rings of power. She’s now Galadriel’s friend and jumps off the ship to Valinor with her, meaning she ends up on the raft and numenor with Halbrand and Galadriel. She doesn’t remember her previous life but falls for Halbrand still. The rest is up to you 👀”

Thanks for the request, anon! ❤️

Warnings: Mentions of death. Injury and blood (nothing major). Lots of pining. Maybe a little ooc, but he’s in love, and she makes him soft.

I have almost finished the second (and final) part of this. This one was getting too long, and it felt right to split them. Been a while since I’ve done this much writing, so hopefully it’s not completely awful. Also, not my gif – credit to the creator!

You do not anticipate returning to Aman so soon. Námo had been clear when you awoke in his Halls – you have a greater role to play in the shaping of Middle Earth. For whatever reason, the fate of the one they call Sauron is inextricably tied to your own, and it is that fact that brings you and Galadriel together in the beginning and keeps you together long afterwards.

Galadriel herself is a guiding light in this unfamiliar world. Beleriand, you learn, now rests beneath the sea, and your home along with it. Your memories of the place have yet to return – after all this time, you doubt they ever will – but the thought brings with it a sense of longing for all you have lost. Even if you don’t remember what that is, you know it is much.

Having perished early in the First Age, you also know little of Middle Earth and its peoples, but the elves of Lindon are still quick to welcome you as a herald of the Valar. Though the lands are foreign, there are people there who knew you once, and it isn’t long before you find your footing in this curious new world.

The High King Gil-galad doesn’t object when you choose to accompany Galadriel to the Undying Lands – in his eyes, the evil has passed and your work on Middle Earth is done. While you know this to be false, it is an easy decision to make. It feels right, and your instincts very rarely lead you astray. For reasons you can’t explain, you know you must follow Galadriel on this final voyage.

She is quiet when the ship leaves the dock, offering only a curt nod to the elves of Lindon when they bid her farewell, but behind her eyes is a maelstrom. It worsens the further you sail into the open sea, until there is finally a palpable shift in the air, an otherworldly radiance that can only mean you have reached the threshold.

The clouds part, and down shines the inimitable light of Aman, its golden rays warm and welcoming. To your left stands Galadriel, her crystalline eyes wide with wonder as she stares at the spectacle. And yet, despite her awe, despite her longing, there is also a great sorrow etched into her brow. It reflects a truth she has known since you departed from Lindon – she will not return to Aman until her own work is done. Seeing its light has not swayed her mind, only strengthened her resolve to return when she finally deems herself worthy.

She turns slowly, catches your knowing gaze, and with one look communicates all her words cannot.

You send her a reassuring smile. “To whatever end, my friend.”

The ship nears its destination, the light shines brighter than ever, she takes your hand into her own, and you leap into the water – into the unknown – together.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The Sundering Seas are unforgiving. Your limbs slowly lose their grace from cold and fatigue, and you know as well as Galadriel does, that your chances of survival are dwindling. These seas are too vast, and your only hope of making landfall once more is if you are carried there by ship. Through nightfall and daybreak you have yet to see one on the horizon.

You don’t speak, opting to conserve energy, but Galadriel’s guilt and doubt are palpable and rising with the tide. They have plagued her mind for months now, and Elrond’s words surely echo in her ears when she casts searching glances at you from over her shoulder.

Will you lead more elves to die in far-off lands?

The thought isn’t as daunting to you as it is to her. You have, after all, died before, but you would not have such a thing rest on her conscious if you could help it.  

The skies darken once more, but not with night. A fog descends on the water and grey clouds converge to hide the sun. Despite the unease that suddenly broils in your stomach, you swim towards the coming storm and pray Ulmo shows your mercy.

When salvation finally arrives, Galadriel is the first to see it, and you stop to float beside her as it draws near.

It’s a foreboding sight – a heap of broken beams that protrude like the prongs of a dark crown. But as it approaches, the sky seems to lighten, and you share another look. Anything is better than nothing, it says.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A strong hand grasps your forearm and hauls you up onto the raft. You rest there a moment, on your hands and knees, limbs shaking from exertion and breath ragged. When you look up at your saviour you can’t help but smile in a mix of relief and exhaustion.

“Thank you,” you say, voice thick with gratitude.

You must look a sight, because he stares, eyes wide and lips parted, for what seems like an eternity. Then his hands are on you again, wrapping gently around your elbows and helping you to your feet.

Distantly, you can hear Galadriel conversing with the others – you hope she remembers her tact – but you find yourself transfixed by this strange man who has yet to say a word, who has yet to even blink, whose breath is growing increasingly shorter the longer he stares at you. You wonder if perhaps the sun has made him ill, if dehydration has addled his mind, because he looks at you as if you are some illusion.

You flush under his unrelenting gaze.

“I–I’m alright to stand now,” you say gently to avoid startling him – or worse, offending him. You know little of these people, and there is no reason to believe they are your allies in this.

His brow twitches downward, but his fingers slowly, reluctantly, slip away. At last, he blinks, and it’s as if a veil has been lifted from his mind. Despite his damp hair, tattered clothing, scraped cheek, and possible insanity, he looks quite handsome when he smiles at you.

“Name’s Halbrand,” he says, and his eyes seem to soften when you give him your own.

You think to ask Halbrand just how he came to be stranded on this raft, adrift in the Sundering Seas, but you find out soon enough.

You are old; old enough to sense danger before it appears. It prickles at your senses. Was this the calm before the storm? The raft rocks beneath your feet as large ripples crash into it, and something moves through the fog, something you have never before seen.

When the sea serpent comes, you find yourself thrown into the waters once more.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

When the sea serpent comes, it brings with it a storm.

There one moment, gone the next.

With his heart in his throat, he can only watch as you lose your footing. It is almost unheard of for an elf, but your limbs still tremble with exhaustion, and the raft rocks treacherously beneath your feet. You slip on its slick surface, your head strikes the boards with a resounding crack, and though he scrambles to catch you, you tumble into the frothing waves before he can.  

A blur of white dives in after you.

His mind reels, it has been ever since you looked up at him with those unmistakably kind eyes – eyes he would recognise anywhere. For a moment he thought he’d strayed into another of his vivid dreams, and even now he is not entirely convinced he hasn’t.

But there is little time to waste on speculation. If it is real, if you are here, then there is a very high chance he might lose you again in the space of mere minutes. And that is not an option.  

He has a choice to make when neither you nor your friend resurface after an agonisingly long moment. Does he abandon the raft and retrieve you himself, or does he trust that the elleth won’t get the both of you killed?

He doesn’t like relinquishing control, least of all when the fate of something so significant hangs in the balance, but what hope does he have of returning you to shore if he loses the raft to the storm?

Thankfully, It is a decision he does not have to make. A golden head breaks through the waves with a loud gasp, and the tension rushes out of him in a shuddering exhale when he sees she is not alone.

When he pulls you from the water a second time, your body is limp and there is a bleeding cut on your brow that will need tending.

“She isn’t breathing,” your friend pants, collapsing onto the raft beside you.

It’s not the way he imagines feeling your lips against his after so long apart, but she is right, and propriety is the least of his concerns as he puts his mouth to yours and breathes air into your lungs.

Your body quickly jerks beneath him, and he turns you onto your side as you hack up a mouthful of water.

“Easy,” he soothes, pressing a reassuring hand between your shoulder blades. You look so small and frail like this – two things he knows you are not – and his protective instinct surges. 

He pulls gently at your shoulder to help guide you onto your back once more, and you catch his hand before it withdraws. Your skin is icy cold to the touch, and your bleary eyes blink up at him sluggishly.

“Halbrand…” you manage to mumble before your eyes flutter shut and your fingers slip away.

He smothers an irritated huff as he glances at your friend. Were you alone, he’d rid you of your soaked smock and let his heat warm you, but even now, as her eyes droop and glaze over in exhaustion, your friend watches him warily. He’s almost grateful for her protective nature – it is a relief to know you have found an ally willing to risk her life for you. But it also grates. He is not a threat, not to you, and he is far more capable of protecting you than she is. She will learn as much, in time.

Sleep slowly but inevitably overpowers her, and the moment it does, he lies down beside you and draws you into his arms. 

It has been a long time since he’s held you this way – too long – and it reminds him of all he has taken for granted. It reminds of the times you would kiss the hollow of his neck and trace soft circles into the skin of his sternum; the way you would press your ear to his chest and let his heartbeat lull you to sleep. Sometimes the warmth of you, the comfort of your presence, would coax him into the dreamworld as well, and other times it would keep him awake long into the night, so he could marvel at his own good fortune.

He holds your trembling body tight to his chest, careless of the sea water that drips from your clothes and seeps into his own. He is fire, in the end, and nothing has made him burn quite so brightly as you have. So, he guides your face into the warm crook of his neck and wills warmth into your bones as day fades to dusk and dusk to dawn. 

That is how the Númenóreans find him. And while they lift your friend from the raft and carry her below deck, they know not to touch you. It may be the look in his eye or the greedy way he clings to you still, but they make no attempt to part you from him and for that he is grateful.

In truth, he fears what he might do if they so much as try.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He’s barely had a day to come to terms with your appearance, or rather your reappearance, but he has plenty of time to think as he waits for you to wake.

Upon boarding the ship, the Númenóreans led him below deck and offered a spare hammock for your rest.

You lie there now, slightly swaying with each rock of the ship, and he just can’t take his eyes off you. Memories are never enough. They are ephemeral, and in the time it takes him to remember the curve of your jaw, he has forgotten the slant of your nose. You are never quite whole in his mind, not like you are now, and he is never quite whole without you.

Millennia have passed, and yet here you are. Why? And why now? Part of him doesn’t care for the answer, but the other part knows he must ask the question. The Valar never do anything without reason, and this is no small thing – not to him.

There is only one conclusion he draws that truly makes sense.

You are a sign; a peace offering. Stranded at sea with his ship besieged by a sea serpent, his path to repentance may have been hindered, but he had tried to do the right thing by returning to Aman, and perhaps that had been the sign they needed to show him mercy.

Your return is beyond mercy. It is a dream, a fantasy, a reward he doesn’t deserve but cherishes nonetheless.

But, he thinks.

There had been no hint of recognition in your eyes. No sign of the adoration you once gazed at him with. And though it hurts, he reminds himself that this human guise is not the fair form he donned in the First Age. It is not the form you had fallen in love with, and that brings new doubts to his mind.

Perhaps your return isn’t a reward at all, but a punishment. Perhaps you will never love him as you once did, and he will be destined to admire you only from afar, to pine and yearn and ache for you, and never be able to have you. Could he survive such a thing twice?

Even now, as he watches you sleep, face soft in rest, his fingers itch to hold you again, to stroke your hair, to trace your cheek. The last time he’d seen you, your body had been bathed in the fiery glow of a red dawn, broken and bloodied and empty of its soul. His Master’s mark carved into your flesh.

He forces the image from his mind with a clenched jaw. While he tells himself that the past no longer matters – that Melkor is all but dead, and you are very much alive – he has harboured this rage and agony and despair within him for millennia, and he will never truly be free of them.

He is pulled mercifully from his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps. They come to a slow stop beside him, and he tears his eyes away from you for a moment to glance up at the Captain – Elendil, he recalls. There is clear nostalgia in Elendil’s eyes as he looks at you, a mingling of tenderness and grief that makes it clear this is a man who has loved and lost – and that is a pain Halbrand knows intimately.

“For your lady,” the Captain says softly, holding out a pouch and waterskin. This too feels like a peace offering, one Halbrand accepts with a grateful nod and murmured thanks.

The cut on your brow is still tender and open, but it no longer bleeds. You will heal well, as all elves do, but he flips the pouch open anyway. He wets a clean cloth and dabs gently at the crusted blood on your brow as Elendil’s footsteps slowly retreat.

You don’t react to his ministrations, and he’s almost grateful to have a reason to touch you again – there’s no telling if he will ever be welcome to do so again.

No, he thinks stubbornly, that will not be his fate. He has not spent an eternity praying for this chance only to squander it. The familiar spark of ambition was lit the moment he laid eyes on you, and it is exhilarating. An old challenge; a new purpose. For the first time in a long time, he is not content to simply roam without direction. He can see his destination. What he doesn’t know, is how to reach it.

And so, he spends the next several hours imagining how he will woo his wife once more.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

It doesn’t go entirely to plan.

He is forced from your side when your friend wakes. Galadriel, as he learns her name is.

She watches him with thinly veiled suspicion and asks more questions than he knows to answer about the ship, the crew, its Captain, and their destination. What’s more, there is no subtlety in the way her eyes dart between your still form and his, perched on the stool beside you. He is too close for her liking and too far for his own. A stalemate, one he has a feeling will become all too common from this moment onward. This time, he will concede.

He hides his irritation with an innocuous smile.

“I need to stretch my legs, and the Captain doesn’t want her left alone overlong,” he lies. “Would you mind?”

His words have the desired effect. The tension leaves her shoulders, and she gives him a nod.

He wants to be there when you wake, wants to be the first thing you see, but the need to worm his way into Galadriel’s good graces outweighs his desire – it must if he hopes to worm his way into your good graces as well.

So, he stands and retreats into the cool night air.  

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You dream of a man – the same man as always, but this time the image of him is clearer in your mind. Not by much, but enough for you to realise he is tall, his arms are strong, and his hair resembles silken strands of white gold. His face, however, remains a mystery.

You try to discern his features; the smile you hear in his voice, and the eyes you feel lingering on your form. But they are just beyond your grasp and obscured by a light that rivals that of Aman. He must be so beautiful.  

If not in face, then in soul, because you have never felt this way before. It is only in these dreams that you know love, and joy, and peace, and comfort. The waking world is for everything else, and much of the time you rue returning to it.

How you wish you could remember him. How you wish you could learn of his fate and perhaps find him once more.

Would he remember you? Would it please him to see you again? Or had too much time passed?

Gentle fingers grasp your chin. A gold band glitters on the index finger of his right hand. It is beautifully crafted, by what must have been the greatest of smiths. You know what it signifies, and so, you aren’t entirely surprised to find a matching band on your own finger – somehow, it even eclipses his in splendour.  

“You are troubled, my love.”

You can’t help but huff a soft laugh, it’s watery and distressed, and enough to prompt him into action. He pulls you into his embrace, one hand cupping the back of your head, and the other tracing soothing lines along your spine.  

“I fear I’ve lost you,” you mumble into his chest and feel it vibrate beneath your ear as he hums.

“Then I will just have to find you again, won’t I?” He says it so simply, so absolutely, as if there is no doubt in his mind he will do so.  

“Would you?”

“Would I?” Now it is his turn to laugh. Your eyes slip shut at the press of soft lips to your crown, and you wish to hold onto this moment forever. “Always.”

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

He’s reluctant to admit it, but the fresh air does him good. Thoughts of you still swirl in his mind – they have done from the moment he met you, so that’s hardly new – but he’s regained some of his composure. It wouldn’t do to be so obvious around the Captain, around Galadriel, as he has already been, so he pulls himself together in this brief moment of respite.

For now, he must pretend – pretend he doesn’t know you, pretend he doesn’t love you, pretend he is okay with pretending.

It’s something he’s come to be quite good at over the years.

He heaves a deep breath and braces his hands against the gunwale as he stares out across the seemingly endless horizon. The waves have calmed, lapping gently at the ship’s hull, and they reflect the pale light of the stars and moon.

He’s paid the night sky more attention in recent millennia than he ever has before. The stars seem to shine brighter than usual this night, and he suspects he knows why. He swallows thickly – his pride is a heavy thing – and his lips curve in a small and humble smile. Gratitude costs you nothing.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into the night.

The stars twinkle, and he clears his throat uncomfortably. The sudden sound of muffled voices comes as a relief.

“—costs you nothing. If you won’t thank him, I will.”

He peers over his shoulder in time to see you emerge from below deck. There is a disapproving frown on your weary face he is all too familiar with – and glad to not be on the receiving end of for once.

Galadriel walks at your side, her lips set in a thin and equally disapproving line. You communicate without words when you realise you’re not alone – a pointed look, a raised brow, an exasperated huff.

He tries to ignore the swell of envy he feels at your familiarity with each other but takes solace in the fact that he still knows you better than she does. You have not changed, as he has, in your time apart. Unfortunately, that only makes him crave you even more – makes him yearn for that same familiarity, that sense of belonging and completeness he’s gone so long without.

He feels more like himself when he’s with you.

But one thing he has always been – then and now – is patient.

Your face brightens when you meet his eye, and he greets you with a charming smile as you approach him. “Awake at long last.”

“Yes,” you laugh lightly. “Galadriel tells me I owe you great thanks for overseeing my recovery.”

“Does she?” He can’t help but glance over at Galadriel dubiously before meeting your eye. She hovers in the background, fists clenched and jaw tight, and he almost smirks at the sight. If she is this unsettled by mere gratitude, she’ll surely be furious when you come to him with love instead.

“Well,” you smile, and it's wide and knowing and achingly familiar. “Not in so many words. But I am grateful nonetheless. Thank you.”

You give his forearm a gentle squeeze. It’s nothing to look into, a subconscious move to emphasise your appreciation, but his fingers still tighten around the gunwale at your touch.

Patience, he reminds himself.

“Happy to be of service,” he quips light-heartedly, and you share a smile.

No, he thinks, admiring the light in your eyes and the warmth in your smile. Whether you were reborn for his benefit or merely your own, it did not matter.

This could never be a punishment.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Almost done with the other requests too, so I’ll probably be posting them within the week! Anyway, I hope this was okay – let me know what you think!

[thesummerestsolstice]

Headcanon Crafts for Everyone I Missed Last Time:

Idril: a sculptor. She worked with every kind of stone imaginable, and often went looking for new material in Gondolin’s mines with Maeglin. (Look my Maeglin head canons are complicated but they should get to be friends the narrative has hurt them too much already) She actually preferred not to make elvish figures, instead focusing on strangely beautiful stone landscapes and various animal-like figures. She was actually responsible for Middle-Earth’s version of the gargoyle, having carved several to stand guard over Gondolin. Several elves swore that the statues moved, but she never addressed those rumors. She also liked to paint her work with bright colors, which would’ve been seen as odd back in Valinor, but fit right in in First Age Middle-Earth.

Maeglin: a smith, but his craft was more in-line with Avarin practice than Noldor practice; with much less focus on the idea of making gems and heavier focus on understanding natural geology and the properties of various gems and metals. He knew the mines of Gondolin better than anyone, and wrote plenty about the the earth under the earth. His work also had fairly significant Dwarfish influences. He liked to make mechanically complex pieces, with moving parts or even some internal gear work.

Finduilas: a hunter. Her and her father were both nature people, just in very different ways. She was silent, with all the grace of a dancer, and quick enough to outrun most of what she hunted. She preferred to go after more aggressive animals– wild boar, wolves, bears, even wargs– and leave the deer and rabbits be. She was born in Beleriand, and had never met the Valar, but sometimes, privately, offered up prayers to Orome. She liked to imagine she could’ve been in his hunt, if things had turned out a bit differently.

Celebrimbor: a smith, in the very traditional Noldor sense. Gemworker, specialized in jewelry, made various famously beautiful pieces, etc. Was never quite happy sticking to hairpins and necklaces. Longed to try his hand at imbuing his work with real power, but always talked himself out of it. A whole binder of concepts for works of power sat locked away in a chest in his workshop for centuries. He never talked to anyone about it. He was as ashamed of his feelings for his craft as he was of his feelings for his family. By the end of his life, he’d made peace with only one of those things.

Earendil: a mariner? Alright, he was definitely a mariner, and he loved the ship life– he even built a few boats of his own, in a similar fantastic style to Turgon’s architecture– but he also had a longstanding fascination with the natural world, and filled volumes and volumes of journals with information on various plants, animals, and minerals. But natural lore isn’t a recognized Noldor craft, since it involves learning but doesn’t really produce tangible results. Still, it was a passion he got from afternoons spent learning about geology with “Uncle Mole,” and one he shared with Elrond. Researching the beauty and wonder of nature gave Earendil something to do with his immortal life, and was a big part of the reason Elrond chose to be immortal at all.

Gil-Galad: a king. No, really, he’d been the high-king of the Noldor since he was a child, and hadn’t really had time for trivialities like “finding a life purpose” or “having fun.” He was too busy learning how to stay alive in late stage Beleriand (read: hell) and learning to rule the least cooperative group of elves imaginable. He wanted to be a painter, and while he found enough practice time to get good at his chosen craft; because of how long detailed paintings can take, he almost never had time to actually make anything. He tried not to let it bother him too much. He didn’t always succeed at that.

Elrond: in a bit of a weird spot. Elrond is most associated with lore and healing; but, as discussed, “lore” isn’t considered a craft. And, well. Healing had to be Elrond’s craft, right? He’d been doing it since he was seven, and just about the only person in Amon Ereb who could still use healing powers. And it was good work, and it was rewarding, even if it often left him feeling so burned out and worried that he forgot to eat or sleep. It took him a long time to admit to himself that healing for him was what fighting was to many other elves: a necessity. Truth be told, he’d rather be gardener, working with the earth to create a place of peace and beauty. Also, Elrond is basically a nature spirit. So. It was something he began to explore in the peace of the early Second Age. He found that his Ainuric powers had all sorts of interesting effects on plant life. He also learned how to breed new varieties of fruits, vegetables, and flowers. Still, he never really considered that it could be a proper craft for him. At least, not until he first saw the valley that would one day become Rivendell.

Headcanon Crafts for Finwe and his Children, the House of Feanor, the House of Fingolfin, and the House of Finarfin.

[kiri-tatsu]

The words I wish to have spoken

you have found out the one you have loved for years; being there through thick and thin, when a person dear to them have passed, when they shared shy words with you, made you countless promises that they broke, and made you feel loved and adored, has fallen in love with the notorious blonde traveler (Lumine or Aether)

TW- angst, hurt no comfort, gn!reader, heavily implied traveler x Zhongli, Diluc, Ayato, Al-Haitham x Kaveh (Kaveh x Haitham is best ship fight me), told in first person pov as a letter, heavily implied immortal reader in Zhongli's part

Zhongli

Dear Zhongli,

I’m sorry to tell you this way, but I think it’s for the best. I’m unsure of to tell you this, but do you remember when I told you I would be there for you through thick and thin when Guizhong had passed? I promised myself that no matter what had happened or would happen, but this time... I would no be able to do that.  

 I thought I would be able to push through with my unrequited feelings, and keep it all to myself, but I’m not strong enough for this anymore. When I worked up the courage to tell you, I went to find you during the Lantern Rite, but instead of being with the young director of the Funeral Parlor, I found you with someone else.  

A beautiful//handsome blonde with a floating child at their side, you had the same look you had back when Guizhong was still alive, and right then and there, I knew I stood no chance. Your somewhat stoic face was softened at their laughs, a smile full adoration, and your eyes looking at them as if no one else in the world had existed.  

That night we were supposed to meet, but I supposed you had a different plan that didn’t include me, so that night I went back home. And the next day you gave me a half sincere apology and said you had work, but I knew better.  

When this letter reaches you, or whenever you read this, I will have gone back to my homeland, and I wish you happiness with your newfound love. I’m sorry that I’ll be leaving, but it seems like I really won’t be needed dear.  

When you and that traveler figure out your feelings for them. Please do not find me Zhongli, I don’t think I will be able to handle you again for a third time, so I wish you the best for all your years to come.  

If we are to ever meet again, just know, I’ll still love you with all my heart, but I will do my best to forget you. And if it wasn’t clear then, then I’ll write it to you. Zhongli, Morax, Rex Lapis, I loved you then and I’ll love you now.  

My friend, my best friends, my love, and my dear, I’m sorry for the words I couldn’t say, and what I should’ve said back then.   

Sincerely,  

Y/n L/n 

Diluc Ragnvindr

Dear Diluc, 

I wish I had the courage to tell you this to your face, really, but my heart won’t be able to stand the thought of speaking to you as of now. When I promised you on that night of your father’s passing, I promised myself that I would be by your side no matter what.  

And when you left Monstadt for those years, I knew that you would come back a whole different person, and I went back to you like an idiot in love. No matter what words you said whether you meant them or not, I was so foolish with my love for you, I ignored everything in my power to worm my way into your sheltered heart.  

I did everything to make myself believe that you had feelings for me, but I knew I was just lying to myself because I wanted to stay by your side without it hurting so much, but after a bit, I decided to take a break and go with Varka away from this city.  

When I came back from an expedition, I was told by Katheryne there was a new person in town, the honorary knight, and they were with you at Angel’s share, so I decided to try to surprise you by coming in from the upstairs entrance. When I seen you and them chatting, I knew I had lost to them; you had a small smile gracing your lips, your ruby eyes were soft while talking with them. 

You never looked at anyone like that, and I never experienced that look either, so when this letter finds you, I have fled the city of freedom to go back home to my family. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to say it to your face, but I love you so much Diluc, so, so, so, so much. I wish I could’ve told you to your face, but I would’ve probably broken down in front of you.  

So, when this reaches you, please know, me leaving is not your fault, I just need to finally go home after so long, so please don’t blame yourself. And tell the Traveler I’m sorry that I couldn’t personally meet them. 

My apologies, 

Y/n L/n 

Kamisato Ayato

Dear Kamisato Ayato, 

When I first met you when we were children, I had come from Sumeru with my family, I was scared, terrified, and curious of being in a new place. When our parents introduced us, I knew we would be friends forever.  

When we were teenagers, and your parents passed, I told you I would be there for you no matter the time or day, I told you that you meant the world to me, and soon you got busy with overtaken your father’s job as the Tri-Commissioner. And I would got to the estate to only ever see Ayaka or Thoma, but never you, you were always busy with work.  

The one time I ever did see you, outside away from work, was when the Itadori Festival was held in Ritou. A blonde person stood by you and I knew it wasn’t Thoma, because this person was mjch shorter. They had a pretty face, lively honey colored eyes, your that were usually sharp and coy, was much softer as they laughed at something you said.  

In that moment, I knew, that your heart belonged to them, and I was too naïve to believe I could’ve won your heart, but I was too late. I wish I was able to say it to your face telling you how much I love you. How much I wanted your hand in marriage.  

I would tell Ayaka and Thoma that I would ask you out one day, and they would constantly tease me about. But once I had went to the estate to go see Ayaka after the festival, she brought me into a hug and I cried like a baby that night.  

I won’t be able to handle hearing your name or seeing you ever again, so I decided to go back home to Sumeru. My family had been wanting me back home for a few months now, so I supposed I just needed a little push.  

I’m sorry to say that when this letter finds you I will have already left. I wish you all the best, and I hope you settle down with them seeing as they have your love. I’m sorry I’m a coward, but I love you Kamisato Ayato, and goodbye.  

From,  

Y/n L/n 

Al-Haitham

Dear Al-Haitham, 

I’m such an idiot for ever thinking that I could catch your eye, I’ve known you since our Akedemiya days, you caught my eye, but I didn’t catch your eye. Instead, our senior Kaveh caught your eye, you two were nice to each other at first, then came the bickering.  

I always thought that I was third wheeling whenever we all hung out together, I just figured I should just skip out on our hangouts. But there were times I caught you looking at Kaveh with your eyes softened for a moment before the same hardness returned when you looked at anyone else.  

Now that I think about it, I should’ve known I stood no chance against him, he is pretty, brilliant, and just overall just a big sweetheart, I could never be mad at him, so I just turned all that anger into hatred, not for you or him, no; for myself.  

I could’ve been better, I should’ve realized, I shouldn’t have been such an idiot, even when I went to Dehya of all people to talk with she said that I should take the chance to tell you before it’s too late, but it was just embarrassing to think about so I just ignore her advice and my feelings.  

But I knew back in the moment in the Akademiya, I knew I couldn’t capture your heart because of the most beautiful student, the nicest person, the most caring human being, Kaveh.  

But with my feelings, I can no longer stay in Sumeru, so I’m going back home because I can’t take it anymore. I don’t think I can handle seeing you two together, my heart won’t be able to bare it. But I love you Al-Haitham, and I’m sorry.  

Til next time,  

Y/n L/n 

[duchezss]

All my favorite moments in blue beetle: a very long and silly list because this is my new fav movie ever (latinos on top fr)

The fact that the entire movie is low key a representation of how lost people can feel after they finish college and don't know what to do with their life.

How celebrated it is that Jaime is a first gen college student

As much as I loved him being from el paso, I love that he now gets his own city that it still deeply rooted in latino culture

How despite the fact that everything is going bad for the family, Jaime still tries to keep moral up and be positive

Jaime stands up for Jenny without thinking

How his persistence is what ends him landing up with the scarab, and subsequently keeping it out of victorias hands

Am I allowed to say his entire family? The scene where they're all pushing him to open to the box was so funny. Their dynamic felt so real, and it makes even more sense because apparently any time they were bickering it was improv.

How well the movie handled micro-aggressions against latinos. Like the receptionist didn't even attempt Jaime name, and how Victoria would never get her scientist's name right. They are subtle, but very real problems.

Maybe this was just me, but from the trailers I thought Jenny and Jaime already new each other, but I liked that they just met. It made their story more interesting.

The body horror route they decided to take with the suit was so cool.

The suit in general. I missed practical suits so much, and it just looked so amazing.

Another thing, that has already been talked about a lot but idc, is that I still am so in love that his family knows from the get go. Of course it wasn't really his choice, but I love how there is never any big secret, and they are constantly in the picture.

I know the Khaji-Da doesn't have as much personality compared to the comics, but the whole sequence where Jaime first gets the suit was so funny.

Notoriously in the comics the beetles were sent out to worlds to be the harbingers for their creator species to invade said world. I loved the small detail in the intro of the blue beetle crashing into the green beetle and then having a flash of electricity. I wonder if that was to hint at a malfunction, since the Khaji-Da never goes to evil with Jaime.

I love Rudy's truck. It's stupid but that's why it's so good.

The whole family debrief was was funnier than it should've been, and the beetle on Jaime spine looked wicked as well.

I thought it was interesting how much of a presence Ted Kord had on the movie, mainly because. of Jenny, but it was still there.

Every. Single. Latino. Reference. I could barely keep up there were so many good ones omg, the details were amazing.

For Jenny being an original character I thought she was done very well

I love how Rudy was useful and basically got them into kord industries.

I love the way we only see Jaime eyes in the suit. It's a different approach to what we've seen with masked heroes so far and I love it

How much they talked about the first two blue beetles, I thought adding that context made it better

They made it very evident how lonely Jenny feels, and I think her small emotional moments really paid off in the end.

I love how Jaime was so openly affectionate with both Rudy and his father, it's something uncommon with men in latino cultures and I loved seeing it.

The entire sequence where Jaime's house was being raided was so uncomfortable. And it was in moments like this were I thought Soto did a great job of weaving real world problems latinos face within a superhero movie.

The moment when Jaime's father had a heart attack, and Jaime was being dragged away, and his sister was screaming was just so heartbreaking and powerful. All of them were hurting so much.

I loved how active his family was, and how all of them immediately went to go rescue him.

Side note: the bug ship looked so cool and goofy and I loved it so much

How Jose was actually very curious about Jaime's connection to the beetle, but Victoria didn't care

The whole dream scene with Jaime and his father. I thought it perfectly mirrored their conversation from the beginning of the movie, and I thought it was incredibly moving. Not to mention I loved the detail of Jaime wearing the last outfit he saw his father in.

I loved that Jaime saved himself, but that his family greatly aided him. I thought it was a great metaphor for the fact that you can do things on your own, but having support can really make the difference

I thought it was so funny that Jaime absolutely refused to kill, and his family members did it was a smile on their face lmaoo.

I know it's cheesy, but I always love it in superhero movies when the main character finally accepts their destiny and it was a very cool moment for Jaime too. But I will say I think they did it with an interesting approach. For most superhero movies the big moment is the superhero finally deciding to go out of their way and fight the big bad, but in this movie he just finally fights what's right in front of him.

How once Jaime accepted himself as the Blue Beetle, Khaji-Da started speaking to him in spanish and adopted his ideologies, further proving their relationship is a two way street.

I loved that Khaji-Da stopped Jaime from killing Carapax, because he was justifiable angry, but he would've regretted it at some point

The low key plot twist of the locket Carapax had not being his wife and child, but being him and his mother. That was genius tbh.

I loved that Jaime had the iconic 2000s superhero half masked fight. This movie felt so 2000's but in the best way possible.

How the entire final act was circling back to the point of loving his family making him weak, but throughout everything we've seen, it's clearly the opposite.

I liked how once Jaime bonded with Khaji his mask would come on and off on command.

How Jaime started wearing his father's necklace in the ending :(

I loved the entire score so much, the synth wave vibe they decided to take was fantastic. I also love how iconic and recognizable they made blue beetle's main theme. Like the bum bum bummm that kept showing up was so good.

I really loved how they aged Jaime up to 22 as a newly college grad. I feel like superheros are always either 16 or 40 and there's never any in between, so it was nice to see.

And for my last point to a very long list: I loved that in the end Carapax helped Jaime and Jenny. Because the real villain was Victoria making them fight each other, and in my opinion that was such a powerful metaphor for latinos and any pocs