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rosemaryhoney27 · 3 months ago

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Tiny Blades and Big Chaos”

aka: Danny vs. Damian: Politeness vs. Precision, Featuring Ghost Tricks and Sibling Rivalry

It was Alfred’s idea, of course.

“Master Daniel seems rather adept at handling himself,” he said, very reasonably. “A joint sparring session with Master Damian might help them… bond.”

Vlad had sputtered. “Bond? Bond over what? Hidden knives and bloodlust?!”

“Yes,” said Alfred, calm as ever. “Precisely.”

Wayne Manor Training Room, 9:00 AM

The Batkids lined the edges of the mat like kids waiting for recess drama. Jason brought popcorn. Tim had his tablet recording. Steph was live-texting Cass with updates. Dick had his camera ready and a big brother grin on his face like this is gonna be great.

Damian stood at the center of the mat, wooden sword in hand, the sharpness in his eyes making up for the lack of steel. “You are not a trained assassin,” he said flatly, glaring at Danny. “This will not be gentle.”

Danny smiled, still in his hoodie and sweats, holding a practice staff Alfred handed him. “That’s okay. I’m kinda hard to kill.”

Damian narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see.”

Bruce, from the sidelines, muttered to Vlad, “This’ll go fine.”

Vlad whispered back, “This is a war crime waiting to happen.”

Round One: Damian Attacks First

Damian moved like lightning—precise, deadly, fast. His wooden sword swung for Danny’s side, a feint to the legs, followed by a spinning strike meant to knock him off balance.

Danny vanished.

Literally. Vanished. A shimmer of light and he phased right through the blade like a friendly ghost playing tag.

“What—?!” Damian turned, just in time to catch Danny gently tapping his shoulder with the staff. “Tag.”

Steph: “OH MY GOD HE GHOSTED THROUGH IT—”

Jason: “Ten bucks says he phases through the floor next.”

Vlad: weeping in the corner “He does this all the time. You’re all just ENCOURAGING HIM.”

Round Two: Damian Gets Serious

“You are not using proper rules of engagement,” Damian growled.

“I’m literally just floating,” Danny said, upside down mid-air. “Not my fault physics loves me.”

“Fight me like a warrior!”

“Okay,” Danny said—and then let the staff drop.

He raised his hands, and a soft, eerie glow covered them. His feet touched the ground. The temperature dipped just a little. Shadows crept a little too long.

“Wanna go full-power?” he asked, still smiling, but something in his voice had changed.

Everyone shut up.

Damian grinned like a tiny feral goblin. “Yes.”

What Followed Could Not Be Legally Described As Training

To summarize:

Danny dodged a flying kick by phasing through a wall and reappearing behind Damian like a horror movie jump scare.

Damian managed to tag Danny across the ribs, earning a respectful, “Nice hit!”

Danny retaliated by sliding through the floor, then popping up behind Damian to ruffle his hair, making him scream in rage.

Cass showed up halfway through, said nothing, and started rating their moves out of 10.

Alfred brought out lemon water and towels like this was completely normal.

Bruce was watching with an expression that said, I need to update our supernatural sparring protocols.

At one point, Danny caught Damian mid-air (after a parkour wall run), gently set him down, and said, “I’m only going easy because Vlad said if I break a Wayne he loses custody.”

“Fight me properly or I will THROW YOU,” Damian roared, red-faced.

Danny giggled.

He giggled.

Afterwards

They were both sweaty, bruised, and grinning like maniacs. Damian sat on the bench, panting, sipping water with a glare that could melt titanium.

“That was acceptable,” he muttered. “You are chaotic and dishonorable. I approve.”

Danny wiped his face with a towel. “Thanks! You fight like my sister’s evil clone. High praise.”

“Can you teach me to phase through walls?”

“Only if you promise not to sneak up on people during 2 AM snack runs.”

“…No promises.”

Jason tossed Danny a granola bar. “Welcome to the family, baby ghost.”

Danny blinked. “Wait, you mean I passed?”

“You suplexed a grown man and survived Damian. You’re in.”

“Officially a Wayne now,” Steph said, taking a picture. “Smile!”

Danny grinned just as Vlad walked in with a cup of tea and despair on his face.

“I leave you alone for one hour. One! What happened?!”

Damian pointed dramatically. “He cheats.”

“He used no blade.”

“He walked through a wall!”

“He told the shadows to ‘wait their turn.’”

Vlad blinked. “That last one actually is new.”

Danny smiled. “It’s a learning environment, Uncle Vlad.”

#dpxdc #jason todd #danny fenton #danny phantom #vlad plasmius #batman #vlad is tired #damian wayne #jason todd is a little shit #timothy drake wayne #danny fenton is a little shit #alfred pennyworth

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g1rld1ary · 27 days ago

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high stakes & high seas - pirate!james potter x princess!reader

wc: 3111 summary: you get kidnapped by a pirate crew as political leverage and meet the ship's charming captain me: a late addition to fantasy/mythology au for @acourtofchaos festival! took me a little longer than expected as i have a few assignments still going on but wanted to get this out!!! i have many more ideas for this pairing so they will probably pop up again soon...

The sun was all encompassing, warming your skin as you sat on the bow of the ship, feet dangling in the air. The waves occasionally brushed your uncovered feet, but you were in too good of a mood to mind. You could see dark clouds out in the distance, threatening to ruin your afternoon, but you’d deal with that when they arrived.

You looked back over your shoulder to the crew working on the ship, members of your family, of course, nowhere to be seen, too afraid to ‘ruin their complexion’. You shared no such worries.

You were, to be fair, a bit of a black sheep in your family. The only sibling who wasn’t vying for the crown, the only child who didn’t believe in the same ideology as your parents, the only one not utterly obsessed with your outward appearance. You assumed that all of your family members were currently hiding away in the dark, musing on their own alleged superiority.

When you looked back out to the horizon, the storm clouds were significantly closer, along with the outline of a ship headed straight towards you. It was unusual for ships to come straight at you — typically, when they saw your kingdom’s flag, they gave you space out of respect for your family. This ship, though, seemed not only unafraid but to be heading straight towards you.

Shit.

It seemed everyone on board put the pieces together at the same time, the crew springing into action. The helmsman tried to steer your ship out of the other’s course whilst a deckhand pulled you onto your feet, ushering you back towards your quarters.

The other ship was close approaching, if you looked back over your shoulder, you were sure you’d see the figures on the foreign deck, but you didn’t have time for that. Rain was already sprinkling over you, and you could tell you were in for a much wilder storm.

You stumbled over the hem of your gown, falling onto your hands and knees with an emphatic thud, scrambling to get back up and keep going. You were desperately trying to open the door to the cabins and quarters, rattling the handle with trembling hands.

“Everybody stop,” A booming voice made everyone freeze, your blood running cold, hand still lingering on the brass door handle. You turned slowly, eyes wide as you took in the sight in front of you.

The other ship had pulled up right next to yours, no doubt scratching the expensive paint and detailing that would have your parents moaning and whining for days — never mind the fact that someone could very well die in the next few moments.

Standing up on the railing of the deck was a pirate, illuminated by a dramatic thunder crack and lightning strike, making him appear a looming figure over the rest of the ship.

“What do you want?” The captain pushed through the crowd of skittish crew members, “If it’s money, just name a price. We’ll happily comply to ensure everybody’s safety.” You noticed how he purposefully avoided mentioning the royal family.

The man waved him off with a far-too-casual air, the flimsy hand gesture almost insulting. How could he not want money? He was a pirate, and this was a royal ship; it was probably the grand prize of pillaging on the ocean!

“Money’s not our object,” The man said, landing lightly on the wood floor of the deck, making hardly a noise considering his thick brown boots. The rest of the crew took an involuntary step back, intimidated by the man’s unnerving calmness.

“Then… what is?” The captain stuttered, hand hovering nervously over his sword.

“Her.” The man looked squarely at you, long finger raised at the point between your eyes. You gasped quietly, backing yourself flat against the wall in an attempt to shrink into nothing.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you have that, sir.” The air became thick on deck, unperturbed by the rain pouring over you all. The crew were all on edge now, seemingly preparing for a fight. The man’s cool expression hadn’t changed, save for one raised eyebrow.

“Shame,” He said, looking around at the circle your crew had made around him, “I’m not quite used to not getting what I want.” Then he whistled, long and crystal clear even through the rain.

Suddenly, figures came from all directions, swinging from their masts, climbing up the side of the boat. You didn’t know what to do, you weren’t equipped for combat! Plus, the door was clearly jammed, and you didn’t think there were any other ways to get off the deck.

The fight was dynamic but surprisingly clean. The pirates seemed hesitant to cause any injuries, merely tying most of the crew up against the mast or deck railing, clearing their path to you. You didn’t think you were a freeze kind of girl, you’d expected flight at the very least. But there you were, stuck in your place, feet sinking into the rough wood below you.

Through the chaos, you saw the pirate captain set his eyes on you again, the hint of a smile on his lips. As if in slow motion, he all but strutted toward you, direct path unperturbed by the fighting going on around him. Another lightning strike hit as if on cue, illuminating him so you could see the glowing amber flecks in his eyes, otherwise shadowed by his tricorn hat, drooping in a roguish way, no doubt weighed down by the heavy rain. You could feel your own hair plastered to your face and neck from the same cause.

The man didn’t waver as he stepped into your personal space, his eyes saying everything his mouth didn’t need to. You stared up at him with wide eyes, chest heaving from adrenaline and anxiety, lips slightly agape. Your hands stayed stuck to the timber wall behind you, like it was going to save you.

It seemed like an age that you stayed like that, you too scared and he too intense to move. Finally, finally, he spoke.

“You’re prettier than your portrait,” He said, eyes raking over your figure. You shrank further under his gaze, suddenly self-conscious. That wasn’t what you expected.

“What do you want from me?” You managed, searching his eyes for any deeper meaning. You didn’t sense malice or bloodlust, which at least soothed you a little.

“Just your company, your highness. See if you’re as sweet as you look.” He smiled, revealing blinding teeth. Then, like an afterthought, added “And the leverage you give me over your parents, but that’s secondary, of course.”

“You won’t get anything out of my parents,” You said through gritted teeth, body finally catching up to your terrified mind. You moved to run, but the man caught you before you could take a step, gripping both your shoulders in his large hands.

“I thought we were going to be friends,” He pouted, voice dripping with sarcastic upset, “We can do this the hard way, but remember it was your own choice.” The captain hoisted you up over his shoulder with strong arms. You’d long lost your panic response and were thrashing, kicking and demanding him to put you down, using every trick in your book. Nothing worked.

“I don’t even have shoes on, you animal!” You yelled, smacking your hands against his back. The man didn’t so much as flinch, but you felt his head move against your hip, looking for someone.

“Moony!” He yelled, and a tall man tying rope knots around the helmsman looked up. “Go get the girl some shoes, will you?” ‘Moony’ sighed and rolled his eyes, but moved nonetheless, and you heard the distinct sound of a door being kicked in as the man carrying you laughed.

You stopped by the edge of the boat, where the man hesitated before setting you down. His hand remained around your waist, not painful but a reminder that you had nowhere to run.

“Get on,” He said, gesturing down to his ship, a metre or two below. The jump worried you, you weren’t exactly known for your athleticism — which princess was?

“No.” You crossed your arms petulantly, planting your feet into the wooden planks of the deck.

“Get on,” He repeated, voice hardening as you resisted.

“No!” You exclaimed, trying your best to shrug yourself out of his grip, to no avail.

“Now.” The captain’s voice was hard, irritation present. Good, you thought, the man kidnapping you deserved some annoyance at the very least.

“Make m—” The hand resting firmly on your waist span you so you were facing the captain, his hand covering your mouth.

“Trust me, love. You don’t want to finish that sentence.” You were pressed up against his body, practically moulding together in your soaked clothes. Fear coursed through your body at his authoritative tone, looking up at him through your lashes, heart beating out of your chest.

The captain, too, seemed affected by the proximity, grip on you loosening momentarily as he stared down at you. Being put in your place had reduced your bravery, though, and you dutifully followed down into the other ship, heart sinking into your feet as reality began to set in.

The ship was nice, though not nearly as lavish as your own. You were shown to a small, simple room, with just one bed, an empty chest and a window.

You were left to your own devices for what felt like hours, but really could have been mere minutes. There was nothing to do. The window only opened a sliver, so you couldn’t have escaped if you tried, though climbing out of it would surely lead to an untimely death; nothing but rough waters below.

You’d been deeply engaged in staring at the plain wall when your first visitor came, the tall scarred man from before, his hands full.

“I brought you some things,” He said, making sure he closed the door behind him as he approached. “Shoes, of course, but I thought you might want to get out of your wet dress.”

“Thank you,” You said earnestly, but you couldn’t help the shakiness in your voice. You were one more act of kindness away from bursting into tears. “Who are you?”

“You can call me Moony.” He gave you a polite smile, the scar that ran across his upper lip contorting. “Our crew are called the Marauders. They’re really nice blokes once you get to know them. I know they seem scary.”

“And the brute that hauled me over his shoulder?” Moony laughed, shaking his head in exasperation.

“That would be our captain. Prongs. Goes about things in interesting ways sometimes, but he’s a good man. I don’t reckon he’d want to hurt you.”

“Fills me with confidence,” You spat, throwing yourself back into the mattress. Not as soft as your own, but that wasn’t uncommon.

“I should go,” He said, already halfway out the door, “I don’t think Prongs’ll be happy if he knows I’m talking to his asset.”

“Pardon?” You yelled after him, utterly affronted. An asset? You were worth much more than that.

A few hours later, you were visited again. The prettiest man you’d ever seen in your life was at the door, raking his eyes over you hungrily.

“What?” You snapped, upset when the man laughed.

“Fiesty, hey? Just how we like them. C’mon, princess: dinner time.” He dragged you by your arm out into the corridor, not giving you any time to adjust to the change in light.

“Who are you?” You struggled against his hold, brushing yourself off with self-importance as he finally relented, keeping close enough to grab you if you ran.

“I’m Padfoot, better get used to this face, darling. You’ll be here a while.”

“What is wrong with this ship? Do you all have such ridiculous names?” You huffed, stumbling as Padfoot pulled you around a corner.

“Hope you don’t bring this attitude to dinner, Prongs doesn’t tolerate disrespect.” He was laughing, but there was a shade of warning present in his words.

“You seriously expect me to dine with a pirate?” Your eyes blew wide into saucers, the idea the definition of ridiculous. You were a princess! Princesses simply did not dine with pirates, not ever.

“You might be a princess, but that means nothing here. You’re nothing here.” You got the distinct impression that Padfoot had a personal problem with royalty. “So call it dinner, or call it kindness that we aren’t required to extend. Call it your only chance to stay alive until morning.”

“I would rather starve,” You spat, wrenching your arm out of his grip again. Of the few pirates you’d met today, you were sure Padfoot was your least favourite.

Turning into the door Padfoot had led you to, the captain, Prongs, was waiting for you, already invading your personal space again.

“Then you’ll starve beside me, Princess. I’m not hungry either.”

It was just the two of you in the room; you thought it might have been his office, but the lighting was dim, and it was hard to make out the details.

Two plates of food sat between you, but neither of you moved. Clearly, you matched him for stubbornness.

“What’s your name?” You asked, keeping intense eye contact, “Your real name. Not the bullshit nicknames I keep getting.” Prongs huffed a laugh, amused at your bad mood.

“Captain James Potter, at your service.” He tipped his goblet of wine toward you in a lazy toast.

“And what do you want from me, James Potter?”

“What I want from you isn’t appropriate to discuss over a nice dinner,” He said, eyes giving you another once over. A shiver shot up your spine. “But what I need from you, princess, is your leverage. I want things your parents can give, but they won’t give them unless they receive something in return.”

“Smart, I suppose,” You mumbled, eyes catching on the actually delicious-looking meal, “But what could you want that would warrant you kidnapping me for it?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little mind about that, princess. I expect the king and queen will arrange for my demands to be met by the time we get to port.” James gave you a smile, one that felt real, and your outlook changed on him. Just a little.

“And how long will that be?”

“About a week or so, if all goes to plan,” He replied, messing with his hair, drawing your eyes up to examine the unruly curls.

“Do things typically go to plan?” You cocked your head to the side and James didn’t know if you were being genuine or not.

“Do you always ask this many questions?” He mocked your cadence, “And almost unfailingly.” You got the distinct impression he was lying to you, but his smile was so charming you didn’t think it was too terrible.

In a moment of silence, your stomach rumbled, and James’ eyes lit up with amusement.

“Come on, princess, eat with me. Is it really so terrible to dine with a pirate?” You hesitated for a moment, examining James thoroughly.

“I suppose not,” You conceded, shyly picking a first bite.

You and James ate in mostly silence, the mood scarily intimate with the singular candle between you.

“Is it nice?” He broke the silence first, and you were surprised at the genuine tone.

“Yes, yes!” You added a touch more enthusiasm than came naturally, unsure why you cared about how James felt, “It’s really delicious.” You weren’t lying, it really was good. Your family never ate anything comforting. Food was purely for show or for nutrition, perfectly portioned plates with the exact amount of sustenance you each required. Of course, it was prepared well by royal chefs, but it was nothing compared to the plate piled high in front of you, with food that warmed you as you swallowed.

When both your plates were empty, James stood.

“You’ve had a hard day, you must be exhausted. I’ll accompany you back to your quarters.”

“What, to make sure I don’t kill myself?” You joked, but James looked at you seriously.

“Precisely. Or kill one of my mates. You might have a pretty face, but I know there’s some darkness in there, princess.” You only smiled once James did, sure it was at least a half-joke.

You followed James closely, the shadows all looking scarier in the darkness of night.

“Is your room okay? Do you need anything?” James asked, looking down at you with hazel eyes.

“It’s fine, thank you.” You moved to turn away, but he caught you by your waist, pulling you back to him. You stumbled with the surprise, hand flying up against James’ chest to stabilise yourself. You both froze, feeling the other in much closer quarters than was appropriate for a princess and a pirate.

“I just — I was just going to say… This isn’t about you, I hope you know. I don’t want this to be painful, so let me know if I can do anything to make it better for you. I need you here to make things better for a lot of people.” You looked at James for a long moment, changing before your eyes again. You couldn’t decide whether he was terrible or lovely. He kidnapped you, yet seemed like he really cared about how you felt.

The boat rocked, throwing you against the door and James towards you, accidentally caging you in with his forearms. You gasped quietly, eyes wide again as you gazed up at him.

Slowly, silently, he brought a hand down, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers follow the strands down to where they finished.

“Are you planning on sleeping over, captain?” You teased in an attempt to diffuse the tension. James sighed, running a hand down his face as he pushed himself away from you.

“I’ll leave you to your beauty sleep, princess.”

With that he was off, leaving an electrifying buzz in your chest and the simultaneous realisation that you were all alone in the middle of the ocean. The combination made for turbulent sleep.

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beforetimes · 4 months ago

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Foaming at the mouth at the mere mention of role reversal Binghe and Yuan, don't mind me

Also don't mind me just spitballing here, you can take this as a prompt or not! But can you imagine Binghe's reaction to seeing Shen Yuan years in the future, probably still at Jinlan city? Not only is he taking in how different Shen Yuan looks, either in regards to how the abyss changed him or just how he's grown, but Binghe doesn't have prior knowledge that Shen Yuan would live through the abyss.

Can you imagine the shock? The misunderstanding as Binghe doesn't react to anything because he's still processing that his beloved disciple is THERE, he's ALIVE. He was though to be dead for years, but somehow he survived the abyss.

heyyyy anon so glad that i’ve managed to inspire the same obsession in you that’s spawned in me seemingly overnight. anddd i didn’t even consider the possibility of this scene when i came up with this scenario but let me try my hand at what it’d look like… also i know i wrote his name all as shen yuan in this but i only noticed after i finished and i don't want to rewrite. smile. enjoy!!

[og au post here!]

…

Jinlan city carries with it a chilled breeze, curled up quietly against Luo Binghe’s skin under the edges of his robe, where flesh meets air. Face impassive, mouth a straight line and eyes heavy with poison-bourne-exhaustion only a few hours into the trip, everything spells out the path to his inevitable turning in for the night soon. The sun’s joined in his lulling to slumber, touching the horizon as the sky turns orange from blue.

Luo Binghe drifts, a reed swaying in the wind by the riverside as he investigates the town, slipping away from Liu Qingge and Mu Qingfang to survey the ghost town in his lonesome.

Everything is par for the course, almost mundane enough that Luo Binghe feels a muted frustration grab at the epicentre of his chest, wrapped around the raw meat of his heart. Always muted, desaturated and less than every sensation could be, as though Shen Yuan took with him a shred of Luo Binghe. If he were an artist, then Shen Yuan wasn’t just his muse but every hue of colour, enshrined in Luo Binghe’s memory in smudges of peach, white, green, and rosy pinks.

Of course, Luo Binghe hasn’t felt like much of anything in a long time. Every day feels like going through familiar, pre-determined motions, drifitng in and out of classes with a commitment inspired in him that never possessed him before the Immortal Alliance Conference. Even this mission, a slight deviation from the norm, feels easy enough to slot into a quiet part of his mind, where everything mundane gathers dust. Months, almost years worth of memories tucked away in a damp corner.

This should be more of the same. Luo Binghe is anticipating nothing else.

Then—a figure bumps into him, bringing him to a stumbling halt.

He’s practiced; the figure picks up speed when his gaze passes over them, so Luo Binghe pursues, numbness clenching at the hollow of his chest like a bird nipping fingers. Short bursts of static aimed at his hummingbird heart as he ducks into shadowy alleyways, a maze bringing him eventually to the second story of a seemingly-abandoned home.

Hand resting on his sword, Luo Binghe creeps up the stairs. Opening to a room, his gaze skips over the furniture in his first sweep before he stills at the sight of the balcony. Silhouette traced against the setting sun, the figure lowers their hood as Luo Binghe unsheaths his spiritual weapon. Its hardly silent, and the figure’s face snaps over to meet Luo Binghe’s eyes.

Lightning strikes, a shock to the heart.

Shen Yuan exhales a moment later, and it hurts almost twice as bad.

“Shizun…” He says, words so quiet he’s almost mouthing them to himself. Cultivation pulled from the equation, Luo Binghe doesn’t think he would have heard them. Here, however, they twist a blade into his palpating, trembling chest. “It’s really you here?”

He opens his mouth but words loathe to creep past his throat and spill over his teeth. Luo Binghe can only stare, drinking in details he never dared imagine, his disciple last remembered bloodied and sobbing at the ridge of a gorge touched by years Luo Binghe thought Shen Yuan had lost because of his Shizun’s incompetence.

Gone are the gentle greens and whites of Qing Jing Peak, replaced with navy blue, near black, and charcoal gray robes that layer over themselves thrice over, as though Shen Yuan tries to keep himself warm. His face lost its last vestiges of baby fat, severe green eyes dulled yet still imbued with life. Hair shiny, longer, left in a simple updo unbefitting of Qing Jing Peak’s strict standards. Luo Binghe’s mind wanders back to hazy mornings spent brushing his disciple’s hair before he’s forcefully yanked back to the present.

“I suppose Shizun suspects this lowly demon to be responsible for the plague?” Shen Yuan asks, unsurprised yet words saddled with inexplicable defeat. “With word from Qing Jing Peak’s immortal master against this one, I suppose there’s no point in dragging out the inevitable trial, though Shizun can decide if this one should dare show his face to the other Peak Lords Shizun’s brought with him.”

“Shen Yuan,” Luo Binghe manages to croak, mind speeding to such an extent that forcing words out feels like fighting past a hot charcoal shoved down his throat.

“Or,” Shen Yuan continues, as though uninterrupted, starting to pace in a way so familiar and practiced that any imagined excuses of possession or imitation vanish themselves from Luo Binghe’s mind, “Or maybe Shizun wants to bring this stupid evil demon to the Sect Leader himself before executing him—maybe he wants to claim the glory of becoming Jinlan’s saviour, maybe—maybe Shizun wants this disciples head on a spike, or—“

Shen Yuan whips around, eyes burning into Luo Binghe’s with intensity that would unwaver him if he wasn’t already off-balance. Hazy and near-floating, feeling his heart beat outside his frail body. Despite the weight of it, there’s a vulnerable desperation that robs him of breath, too reminiscent of days Shen Yuan spent at the end of Luo Binghe’s bed on days where the world pinned him to the sheets without mercy. Violent and fervent hope seems to overtake Shen Yuan.

“Or maybe Shizun just—? WIll—this one knows that Shizun wants… But everything else has changed, I can— This one—Maybe Shizun wants me to live?”

“You’re supposed to be dead,” Luo Binghe manages to say, and watches Shen Yuan’s expression freeze before shuttering, scrubbed away from a too-pale face and replaced with a jade-like twist to his lips so cold it feels as though it cuts at Luo Binghe’s skin.

He reaches out and Shen Yuan flinches.

You’re supposed to be dead, Luo Binghe thinks, standing days away from home yet able to feel the press of grass and stone under his knees as he stares at a solitary grave in Qing Jing Peak’s bamboo forest.

You’re supposed to be dead, he thinks, watching Shen Yuan turn from disciple to stranger, any hope in his former student's shoulders deflating until Shen Yuan’s taking up very little space, completely unaware he’s done it at all.

You’re supposed to be dead, Luo Binghe thinks, remembering every single conversation with Liu Qingge where they both quietly tell themselves there’s no body, there’s always a chance. They both knew they were lying to each other. I mourned you. I mourned you I mourned you I mourned you.

In the same room, Shen Yuan retreats, and despite being closer than they have been in years, Luo Binghe can feel the channel of one-sided hatred between the two of them grow ever-deeper.

masterpost

#svsss #svsss au #svsss headcanon #svsss fic #scum villain #scum villain au #scum villain's self saving system #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen yuan #bingqiu #shizun luo binghe #disciple shen yuan #milez writing #milez asks!#milez's role swap au

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lscullzthegreat · 7 months ago

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Of Course all the Sons of Fëanor are beautiful but

Maedhros is beautiful like a fire. bright and warm at his best, but hopelessly uncontrollable at his worst, capable of so much destruction and yet so necessary to sustain life, he is a source of comfort, a burning log in the fireplace, and source of despair like the roar of forest fire.

Maglor is beautiful like a bird. with the voice, and melodic ability of a songbird, the sharp eyes and hair of a raven, and every bit as hopelessly stuck as a canary in a cage doomed to sing heedlessly until its little heart gives out.

Celegorm is beautiful in the way poisonous things often are. He is the bright red berry against a green bush, he is the sheen on a snakes scales. the flash of yellow against the blue of the sky of a hornet. the bright bud on milkweed. Everything about him draws you in everything about him screams for you to leave him alone.

Caranthir is beautiful like a bolt of lightning. There and then gone, unseen until it strikes in a moment of brilliance. Unthought of until it's far too late.

Curufin is beautiful like a sword, Sharp and piercing and cold. a reflective weapon that often reminds people of his father, the inlay of stones and jews on the hilt does nothing to hide the swords purpose, the engraving of flowers on the sheath does nothing to hide the danger, cleaning it does nothing to hide the blood

The Ambrussar are beautiful like a comet: blazing, and bright, a phenomena to spark hope, something to make a wish on, something to draw people together. something that burns out in an instant, something that's gone before you can give it its own name

#tolkien #silmarillion #maedhros #maglor #celegorm #caranthir #curufin #amrod and amras #the silmarillion

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inknopewetrust · 1 year ago

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𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞, 𝐈 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝.

Summary: After days of uncertainty, you catch Aemond in the throne room and envision the future of what power can hold. [Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader] [WC: 2.8k]

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, oral (f receiving), public sex, exhibitionism, overstimulation, enemies to lovers dynamic.

Quick Links: Masterlist | gif by @vizual-demon

“Knee deep in the [throne room] and you’re eating me out… is it casual now?”

“Do you always look so smug after killing your own blood?”

In your shadows, Aemond Targaryen stared at the Iron Throne in the storm.

Thunder eclipsed the skies over the castle. In the late evening, you could feel the shocks of lightning beneath your fingertips as they grazed the columns of marble that flanked the room. Each scream of anger echoed through the stones, you could hear it so clearly.

You could see him in the shadows of the throne.

Aemond Targaryen had returned from battle two days ago.

In those two days, the world had changed drastically compared to the one that it was before. A King incapacitated, a legend buried in the rubble of a fallen house, and two sides burning as bright as the cascading terror above.

The tide was shifting and the power in the halls was striking.

Aemond’s arms hung limp at his sides. For someone so thirsty for the power the room held, his apathetic nature would bury him. He could see the darkness of the swords; twisting and bleeding each person dry for their aspirations.

He wanted to be someone who was remembered.

Aemond Targaryen did not want to be immortalized in history as a weak member of the greatest family to ever exist in this world. In his dreams he saw a man of profound strength and terror—someone who reigned a fearsome government with unyielding standards.

In his cruelty, he wanted people to see a person who would not sacrifice his name for peace.

So yes, he was a bit smug at Rhaenys’ demise and ultimately Aegon’s injury. He would not be in this position now had he not done what was asked of him.

But he didn’t answer you—Aemond did not feel the need to acknowledge it because he knew you understood. Even if you were to be cutting and cynical, Aemond knew you rationalized his beliefs in a similar fashion.

And that enticed him.

You had always enticed him. So simple yet cunning, an outsider amongst the other ladies in your class. You were not a whore, you were not a mother, and yet he wanted to know what it felt like to be a feign of your touch.

How would your hands feel on his body? Your delicate fingers wrapped around him?

“Ah,” you ticked at him, pushing off the stone pillar and moving in his direction. “You see, My Prince, when you allow a dragon’s head to be paraded for the city to see, people are going to notice.”

“Power is power. We needn’t parade it unless it was necessary to remind them who they should bend the knee to.”

“At the ill will of a sacred creature?”

Meleys was once a beautiful dragon. It was such a shame that the second time you were able to witness her beauty it was in the butchered attempt of showing off. The grandstanding sickened the soil.

“It does not take a Targaryen to understand that.”

“What would you know of Targaryen customs?” He spoke back. His voice was thin and dry. “You will never know.”

“I apologize… for my lowly status is not on par with such a great house. I am sure my Lord Father would appreciate the sentiment.”

You have a coy, playful smile that he could feel in his bones. The kind that would chide him, never take him too seriously, and one that rarely doubted him.

It was an uneasy feeling. One he would never quite get used to.

“His ambitions are not unknown. How people without power seek it.”

“Is that not why there are whispers of what you have done?” You questioned and his hands turned to fists quickly. “Small folk talk, Aemond. Power is power but when you misuse it, the omen may come true.”

The omen hovered like the storm above. The God’s were battling in the realm in the sky; giants of proportions unfathomable in their richness of blood. They scorched and rattled in the sky as cracks of thunder rumbled throughout the Keep.

“Yet I speak nothing of it,” he eyed you solemnly. “You talk of rumors and fallacies as if they hold truth. Perhaps it is I who should ask where your loyalties preside? Does war scare you?”

Aemond approached you with long strides. His hands lingered at his sides but never held onto his hilt, threatening you with violence or harm for your disagreements.

He could see you did not fear war. Your father would have called on your return if the prospect of war scared a house with the name of your own. A prominent family in the Vale—to the Greens you were a key.

And he could play you a fiddle if you let him.

“No,” you replied, keeping your head tall. “I live in a gilded tower.”

“That has been infiltrated before. It has seen death before.”

“They do not seek me,” your eyes ran along his face as the sky illuminated his sharp features. “But you know that.”

Aemond hummed and in a moment of faulted want, his right hand reached to brush your own. The electricity of shock pulsing through your veins as though it was as important as blood itself.

You swallowed the nervousness that built in your throat at his actions. He was so sure of himself, so different from the man you had known before.

He took his sins and bathed in them. Aemond let the water dry in confidence of himself as Prince Regent. If he was going to rule in his brother’s stead, he needed the reverie of power to seep inside of him.

“Men will seek anything if they are given the chance.”

You traced the direction of his eyes to your hand, how he ghostly itched to touch you again.

“And what is it that you seek?” You questioned quietly. “Is being a ruler not enough?”

In the lull, your ears filled themselves with the sound of your heartbeat. Pumping and beating to the thrills of anticipation you sought in the sordid walls of an ugly Keep. To please a King, well… It was a dangerous thing.

Aemond’s hand touched yours loosely again. His fingers gently grazed yours with a profound intent that was something he sought.

“No,” he admitted. “It is not.”

His hand bypassed yours and rested lowly on your hip. The touch stilled you. In the darkness of the hall, the world stopped moving and your vision tunneled. His hand moved higher to rest upon the crux of your hip and stomach, thumb caressing the fabric of your dress. He stepped closer.

Without thinking, you took a step back out of the chills that erupted on your skin, not out of want. He took the space you created and closed it again but followed you as you moved backwards and backwards until your back hit one of the marble columns you had hid behind not twenty minutes earlier.

One of your hands caught yourself on the column and the other wove itself around a post. The wings of the throne room were elevated for spectators that were nonexistent now.

Aemond’s other hand mirrored the other and he held you there.

“If someone came looking for you,” he huffed, tilting his head to the side which allowed his eye to narrow. “What would you let them do to you?”

You furrowed your brows yet the feel of his hands burning through your dress allowed your mouth to run dry.

Nothing. You would let them do nothing to you. You would fight to the death to defend yourself but if it were Aemond, you would let him devour you.

“What about me, hm?” There was a faint smile on his lips. “What would you let me, your Prince Regent, do to you while the Gods watched over us?”

His hands slithered up your torso, drawing a staggered breath from you as he cupped your breasts over your dress and groped hard to feel the flesh. Aemond saw your chest stutter under his touch.

“Tell me,” he whispered, pulling his head in close to yours. His lips became a mere centimeter from yours; breath lingering in the space between you heavy and taught.

“I-I-I,” your nerves got the better of you. Stumbling over your words like a dolt, his hands moved back down and began to gather your dress in his hands.

“Poised to stick pins where the plans now lie but a stuttering fool now.”

“I am not a fool,” you huffed as the cool night air began to make itself known against your ankles, then your shins. “I know what I want.”

Aemond leaned in, knocking his nose gently with yours.

“Tell me,” he repeated.

“I want you to touch me,” you instructed him. “I want to feel the mouth of a King on my lips and under the Gods I do sin, but I wish to feel his lips elsewhere.”

“Oh?” Aemond hummed as his hands continued their path. “I may not hold the title of King-”

“You are a King, Aemond,” you said assertively and his hands stopped.

“You rule in the place of Aegon’s incapacity and by all law and rules, you are the one to carry the heavy sword. You speak the actions and see them true.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed at the reality.

Aemond’s power lingered. It lingered in this great hall but it was a shell. The Aemond he felt in his bones was still as scared as the one who killed Lucerys.

“I wish to feel your lips elsewhere,” you whispered, breath fanning his face. He tilted his head upwards and for a split second, his lips touched yours.

Intoxicating; you would have fallen to your knees had you not already wished to see him on his.

“I want to see a King on his knees.”

Aemond could only smirk. He planted a quick, brief kiss on your lips before bunching up the skirt of your dress as he knelt down to the floor. A beckoning, ethereal call from above led him to his knees to worship. With his hands collecting the material of your dress, Aemond’s hands met yours and opened them the best he could for you to grab onto it. He used the leverage of your assistance to bring down your stockings, clear the way of his alter as the thunder roared from above.

You let your head fall back against the pillar as his hands roamed your thighs, inching higher and higher but still skimming past the now unguarded temple.

You could not help but look at the exits in view as though someone would walk through them at this hour.

This late hour when all of the good, pious Lord and Ladies, Prince and Princesses, laid in their beds asleep—sans the King he would never fault himself for burning.

“Aemond,” you spoke with a voice that shook. “What if someone were to see us?”

He stopped his hands, gazing up at you from the ground on which he knelt.

“Let them see then,” he kissed the front of your thighs. “If they see, then I will marry you.”

Fuck. It made your heart leap in your chest. A frog in your throat, the honesty in his eye was enough for your anxieties to settle but your excitement to grow.

He would marry you. What a world you wished you lived in.

If all were true, it would have happened the first time he touched you.

“Drop your dress,” he ordered.

Without hesitation, you dropped the skirt of your dress and he vanished before your eyes.

But you could feel him.

You could feel the breath of his body releasing itself just beyond where you ached for him the most. His grip on your thighs was bruising. Aemond used his position to prop one of your legs on his shoulder, sending you off balance and into the bannister behind you.

But then his hot breath met where you wanted him and the feeling melted you from the inside. Aemond peppered kisses on your mound, waiting until the perfect moment to lick a stripe through your folds and with it, you folded yourself.

Daydreams of his hands on yours was not enough. The feel of your hand in the solitude of night where the sins of pleasure were trapped behind heavy doors could not compare. Aemond attached himself to your flesh and sucked, hard, before lapping again in a more gentle fashion. He repeated it again and again until the wetness began to gather more audibly.

There was no stopping the breathless pants escaping your lips.

You gripped hard on the marbled post. If you were the strongest woman in the Seven Kingdoms, you could have crushed it beneath your fingertips. Aemond’s tongue laded the wetness and gathered it in a lewd slurping noise to your clit only to run his tongue over it in brisk movements.

“Aemond-” you swallowed your moan. Knees threatening to buckle, you wanted to grip onto him. Your hands sought his shoulders, his head or hair, and a soft bed.

The Iron Throne was taunting you in the background. Power so divine, so close yet a million miles away.

Aemond wouldn’t marry you, but in the moment, you would live sinfully until the Gods caught you in truth.

He let out a low hum that made your senses tingle. He too was enjoying the pleasure he could bring, growing his own in his trousers that begged for its own mercy. Aemond could feel you palm at his head from the fabric that fell over his head—a delicacy; the rapture of someone he could love one day if he let himself.

Your helpless want forced you to roll your hips against his face as though his tongue was not enough. Aemond gripped your hips tightly to guide you against his mouth.

“Shit.” The words fell from your lips freely.

“Aemond, I don’t think I will fare much longer,” you admitted to him and felt yourself burn from the inside. His accommodations to your wants, the fluidity of his tongue against you in need was sending you barreling toward the edge.

Your mewls became whines that rivaled the thunder.

In an instant, he removed his mouth from yours and appeared from under your skirts. Your clit throbbed as the blood began to rush downwards and a sickening wetness that was not your finish began to trickle down your leg.

“Wha-”

You could not speak before his lips met yours aggressively. You could taste yourself on his lips and for a second, you wanted to recoil at the thought but his hands cupped the back of your head softly and everything melted into you.

You wished he would marry you.

“I am not done,” he broke the kiss and admitted. “But I could not hold that in any longer.”

His sentiment took you aback. Your eyes searched for a lie; begging for a fallacy to come true and reveal itself in the ugly colors of night but there was nothing. There was nothing but truth and in it, it broke your heart in the slightest.

Aemond wanted to kiss you. He wanted to please you, pleasure you, hold you tightly as a husband would do but he wouldn’t marry you.

He couldn’t marry you.

But he would love you in the depths of darkness as his power soared for a brief moment in time and the hands of a fair lady, opposed by his mother, warmed his bed in the evening. May the throne be his witness, Aemond Targaryen was a sinner.

He kissed you again before falling to his knees once more.

As promised, he worked in quick licks to ignite the spark. It lit up the room brighter than the sky as the Gods boomed in discontent but they worked to drown out the sounds of your elation the closer you became. Aemond let you gather the dress back in your hands so you could see him as his tongue circled your clit and he pierced your cunt with two fingers sliding in the wetness easily. Your legs trembled. His other hand ran soft strokes along the muscle to sooth you but it was fruitless.

His fingers curved inside of you, massaging your walls as they clenched around him and swore to the heavens for a release.

“Fuck, Aemond.”

He enjoyed hearing the words no Queen would dare mutter. It dared him to move faster, to move more heavy against your walls, against your lips as he continued to lap the juices that made the ghosts in the halls look away in a blush.

It was building to a precipice inside of you. As though a volcano was erupting, you let out sounds he had never heard. You were not trying to be quiet. You were letting the castle hear your pleasure that would send you to a horrible fate.

And you begged him to bring you to the end. His name lost its true meaning as it became lost in the night, falling from your lips breathlessly and your eyes shut tightly as the chills in your spin sent you spiraling.

He was no God, but Aemond Targaryen gave what he had as a God should.

“Darling,” he murmured from below. “Let them all see what a King can do.”

And you did.

A/N: thanks for reading! As always comments, reblog, and likes are always appreciated. I love hearing from all of you and thanks for letting me write this little self indulgent fic.

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arixella · 5 months ago

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Unyielding Protection

╰┈➤ pairing: Luffy x gn! reader

a/n: : hey guys ik its been a minute, Ive been doing a lot of school and extracurriculars so ive had no time to write, plus I also just got sick sooo yeah but im trying to become active again!

Summary: In the midst of a fierce battle, you fight beside Luffy, only to be gravely injured. As Luffy's rage and guilt consume him, he confesses his love for you, and with the crew’s help, you are stabilized, promising that he will never let you go.

wc: 1.0k

contains: angst

The battlefield was chaos. The crew was scattered, fighting off waves of enemies with relentless determination. The island’s terrain was uneven and treacherous, with jagged rocks and dense vegetation that seemed to trip you up at every turn. You stood alongside Luffy, dodging blows and striking back with everything you had.

"Luffy, behind you!" you shouted, barely deflecting an incoming attack aimed at his blind spot.

He turned, grinning confidently. "Thanks, (Y/N)!"

You couldn’t help but smile at his unwavering enthusiasm. Even in the heat of battle, he was a beacon of hope, his confidence contagious. But there was no time to bask in his energy. Another wave of enemies surged forward, and you jumped back into the fray.

You fought valiantly, taking down as many foes as you could, but exhaustion was setting in. You weren’t as durable as Luffy or as strong as Zoro. Your body ached, your movements slowed, and you didn’t notice the enemy creeping up behind you until it was too late.

A sharp pain exploded in your side, and you gasped as a blade slashed deep into your flesh. Blood seeped through your fingers as you clutched the wound, stumbling backward.

"(Y/N)!" Luffy’s voice rang out, sharp and panicked.

Your knees buckled, and you collapsed to the ground. The world around you blurred, the sounds of battle fading into a dull roar. You tried to stand, but the pain was overwhelming.

"(Y/N)!" Luffy’s shadow loomed over you, and you barely registered the fury in his voice. "You hurt her," he growled, his tone low and dangerous.

Luffy’s usual carefree demeanor was gone, replaced by a rage so intense it was palpable. His body stretched as he launched himself at your attackers, his fists flying with brutal precision.

The battlefield became a whirlwind of Luffy’s attacks. His punches landed with bone-crushing force, and his movements were faster and more aggressive than you’d ever seen. The enemies stood no chance against him, their numbers dwindling rapidly as the rest of the crew joined the fray.

Zoro cut down anyone who got too close, his swords flashing in the dim light. Sanji kicked his way through the crowd with practiced ease, and Nami’s lightning strikes cleared entire sections of the battlefield.

But Luffy was a force of nature. His focus was unyielding, his rage boiling over as he fought to protect you.

When the last of the enemies fell, Luffy sprinted back to your side, dropping to his knees. His hands hovered over you, unsure where to touch without hurting you further.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice trembling. "You’re bleeding... You’re hurt..."

You forced a weak smile, though the pain made it difficult. "I’m okay... I’ll be fine..."

"No, you’re not!" he snapped, his voice cracking. "Don’t say that! You’re not okay!"

His hands found yours, clutching them tightly as if holding on to you physically would keep you from slipping away. His straw hat, hanging by its string, swung lightly with the movement.

"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice raw with guilt. "I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should’ve been faster. I should’ve protected you better."

"Luffy..."

"I love you," he blurted out, his eyes wide and filled with panic. "I love you so much, and I— I can’t lose you. You hear me? You’re not allowed to leave me!"

You reached up, your fingers brushing against his cheek. "Luffy, I’m not going anywhere," you murmured, your voice as steady as you could manage.

His eyes softened, but the fear lingered. "You promise?"

"Promise," you whispered, a faint smile tugging at your lips despite the pain.

Chopper appeared, his face set with determination as he opened his medical bag. "Luffy, I need space!" the reindeer said urgently, gently pushing the captain aside.

Reluctantly, Luffy moved back, but he didn’t go far. He sat close enough to hold your hand, his grip firm and unwavering. His eyes never left your face, watching every wince and flinch as Chopper worked to stabilize you.

As the pain dulled under Chopper’s care, you managed to smile faintly at Luffy. "I love you too, you know," you said softly.

He blinked, his expression softening further. A small, relieved smile broke through the worry on his face. "You’d better," he said, his tone teasing but still laced with concern.

After Chopper bandaged your wound, he declared that you’d be fine with some rest and proper care. Luffy’s shoulders sagged with relief, but his eyes didn’t lose their intensity.

He leaned closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I’m sorry," he said again, his voice low and earnest. "I won’t let this happen again. I’ll protect you, no matter what."

You squeezed his hand, your heart swelling despite the exhaustion. "I know you will."

As the crew began preparing to return to the Sunny, Luffy stayed at your side, refusing to leave you even for a moment. His whispered apologies and affirmations of love were a constant reminder of how much you meant to him—and how much he meant to you.

♡♡♡

#anime #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece luffy #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy angst #monkey d luffy angst

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dudedidujust · 1 year ago

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can't stop thinking about that joke about Jason having to ask for every bolt of lightning he uses, but what if- what if that was true.

just imagine Jupiter giving a restricted amount of bolts he can use in a set time and not renewing them until the time limit has passed. just imagine Jason in battle counting off every lightning strike and trying to save them for later. just imagine that the only way to get more is begging to a father who does not care to listen. sometimes the count varies and he's in the middle of a fight and suddenly the lightning he's summoning puffs into smoke in his hands and he's left scrambling even though he's sure he hasn't run out. Jason learns to manipulate the winds, to fly, to fight and win without lightning ever sparking between his fingertips because there's always a chance that he may need it later, that a greater emergency could occur. He's fighting Krios, furious and fast when there's suddenly smoke where there should be lightning and he grits his teeth, raises his sword, and keeps going. He wins.

#Thalia flings lightning without care #Jason watches her and counts off the strikes #He reaches double his amount before he realises that there's no limit.#That she uses the lightning freely #watches her and wonders how badly he must have failed for Jupiter to refuse him his power #jason grace #pjo #hoo #percy jackon and the olympians #heroes of olympus #having Jason feels rn #jason grace deserved better

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fangirlmermaid · 1 year ago

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Please Princess

Summary: You were kidnapped by Kronos goons, and just when you thought it couldn't get any worse, a familiar face proved you wrong

Pairing: Luke Castellan x daughterofPoseidon!reader

warning: Angst!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Also kind of long (Sorry)

(This scene was inspired by Euphoria)

You’ve lost count of how many days since you’ve been in this cell. You don’t remember how one of Kronos’s goons managed to sneak up on you, one minute you were walking to the Poseidon Cabin late at night and the next you were in this small ass cell that only had a crappy spring mattress.

You were expecting Kronos’s goons to rough you up, but they haven’t. They’ve only come in once a day to give you food and water which you end up throwing back in the goon's faces. They still never laid a finger on you, you were starting to believe that you were leverage for whatever the hell your brother Percy was doing.

The next day you just sit Chris cross applesauce on the ground and face the wall when you hear footsteps. “Heard you were being stubborn” A familiar voice announced, your eyes widened No not him Luke was the last person you wanted to see. You touched the scar that laid across your cheekbone, something you got from that night.

You went to find Luke and Percy because they were taking a while and you wanted to enjoy the fireworks with them. You find them pointing their swords at each other, Luke tried to explain how Percy lied about not being the lightning thief but of course, you didn’t believe him which led to you and Percy trying to take Luke down. Luke swung backbiter intending to strike at Percy but he dodged and ended up cutting you.

You were heartbroken, Luke was the love of your life! You didn’t care about glory or getting the god's attention, as long as Luke was with you. You believed Luke cared about you too, he was your biggest supporter! This made you wonder if he was only dating you so you would be more willing to join Kronos.

Luke placed the tray on the small meal table on the cell door, “Come on please eat something” Luke’s voice laced with concern. You tried to blink away the tears, gods he’s still acting like he cares about you. You still sat with your back facing the man you once loved, even if you knew what you wanted to say, your voice couldn’t be found.

“You need to eat…please princess” Luke begged, when he called you his old nickname for you the memories that you tried to shut out came rushing back, all the campfires, sneaking to the lake at night, movie night on your phone. You couldn’t hold the tears back anymore, “don’t call me that” your voice cracked, Luke was relieved to hear her voice oh how he missed it.

He wanted to hear your voice more “Princess please, you have to understand” Luke tried to explain, and for the first time you looked at him filled with rage “Understand?” you mumbled, and you stood up “Understand?!” you yelled storming towards the cell door, words couldn’t describe how enraged you were “you betrayed us!” you yelled shoving the food tray back at Luke. The traitor didn’t flinch, “Y/N” Luke’s voice was soft, it felt weird that he was saying your real name “The gods don’t care about us, they have ignored us for too long. We’re just pawns to their game” Luke explained his eyes that only known kindness now replaced with spite and hatred, you glared at the man you once loved “So that’s supposed to make it okay for you to try to kill my brother?! He’s a kid!” You yelled white-knuckling the cell bars “I’m sorry for that Y/N, I am, but I need to make sure Kronos will rise” Luke explained, you felt your heart ripping once again.

You took a few steps back and looked at this monster who looked like the man you used to love. Your eyes darkened, You never thought he would kill a kid “That dragon should’ve fucking killed you” your voice laced with venom, that was a punch in the gut for Luke “You don’t mean that” Luke whispered his eyes glossed, “I do mean it!” you muttered at Luke who remained silent “You fucking betrayed us, Luke! You betrayed Annabeth! You betrayed me! And it fucking hurts Luke!” You shouted tears running down your face. Luke mumbled “I love you” You couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to say that “No you don’t!” your voice cracked, Luke nodded his head “I love you” he mumbled once again, Gods will he stop saying that “No you don’t! Stop saying that! You don’t love me!” You shouted, clapping your hands with the last sentence.

Luke has never seen you this angry especially at him, you guys have arguments but they were never this bad. You leaned into the cell bars wanting to look Luke in the eyes “I have a lot of regrets in my life, but I have to say that meeting you has to be on the top of my fucking list” You explained in a malicious tone, Luke's eyebrows raised. A tear ran down Luke's cheek “You don’t mean that princess” Luke mumbled, you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a little bit satisfied by making him cry “I.mean.every.fucking.word” you spat at him. Luke grabbed your hand before you could walk away to catch your breath “Stop” you mumbled trying to pull away but Luke tightened his grip, he turned your hand over, exposing your palm. You studied Luke who looked at you with love before giving your palm a soft kiss something he used to do all the time, your eyes glossed at the sight. Luke gave it a final kiss before letting go, you cradled it into your chest “Y/N, none of this was supposed to betray you. I love you, I’m doing this for us” Luke explained calmly, you looked at Luke with murderous eyes “We could’ve left, Luke. We could’ve lived in a cottage in the middle of nowhere, just like we used to talk about” You reminded in a low tone your throat was dry and sore from the screaming, Luke shook his head “You know it’s not that simple, not for us” Luke explained, you knew it was true there would be monsters knocking on your door every five minutes but you wouldn’t have cared. You started to laugh “You know you're no different than them” You stated looking up at your ceiling, Luke raised an eyebrow “The gods” you continued, you were walking side to side in your cell “That’s not true” Luke grumbled, you laughed one again “but you are. You’re no better than Zeus, you’re no better than Ares…you’re no better than your father” you muttered, you smiled in satisfaction when Luked at you with rage in his eyes “I am nothing like them,” Luke told his voice laced with venom, you nodded your head not believing him “you’re a fucking vampire. Just like them” you muttered, Luke stood there in disbelief “You just go around sucking the fucking spirit out of everyone!” You yelled pressing your face into the cell bars and looking him dead in the eyes, Luke shook his head “You know that’s not true” he reminded, your murderous eyes staring him down “It is fucking true!” you yelled before walking away from the bars.

Then Luke had the nerve to say the three words again “Y/N, please! I love you!” he shouted, you wished he would stop lying “No you love being loved! You love being needed and being awed at like your some whimsical fucking creature!” You yelled wishing the bars weren’t here so you could leave, Luke sighed before looking at you “I love you! What will it take for you to believe me?!” Luke shouted in frustration, you wiped away your old tears “If you want me to believe you then stay away from me” You muttered, Luke shook his head making you sigh in frustration “Then let Kronos’s goons kill me because looking at you makes me physically fucking ill!” you spat at him before walking into a corner with your back facing him, telling him that you are done talking to him.

You stood there until you heard the main door slammed, you turned around and he was gone. You felt like an idiot for dating him, you should’ve seen it coming. You should’ve killed him that night, he was no longer the man you loved. It’s all your fault, out of anyone in camp you should’ve been the one to know that he was up to something.

You slid down against the wall, you brought your knees into your chest, and you were hysterical crying into your knees. Even though with everything that is happening, deep down you still loved him and you wished you didn’t.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan fanfic #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson x reader

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sh4nksslvt · 2 months ago

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Hello beautiful. Can I please ask you for a reader x Law? The battle between Blackbeard and Law was in full swing. Law was losing when a denden in Beppo's pocket grabbed the denden. I'll open the way for you, just for a moment. Take that idiot with you. Beppo knew who the woman was who loved his captain and gave him her heart. Blackbeard attacked, but the girl intercepted the attack. Meanwhile, several explosions on the ship alerted Blackbeard. You?!! The young woman reflected the blow, and countless lightning bolts fell on Blackbeard and his men. Beppo had taken his captain. Law recognized the lightning attack. He didn't want to leave. Days later in the New World, The girl watched over Law day and night. Law woke up from a nightmare, seeing her asleep in the chair next to his bed.

tis not much but hope u like itt><

Voltage in Veins

As the battle between Law and Blackbeard rages, a long-lost ally unleashes a storm of reckoning to save the man who once stole her heart.

Law X fem! reader | ONE SHOT tags: slight angst, sfw, hurt/comfort, near-death recovery a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only, so expect this ffs a bit cringe word count: 1.4k

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

The Polar Tang surfaced amidst chaos. Under relentless assault from Blackbeard's crew, the Heart Pirates had no choice but to make landfall on Winner Island. The situation worsened when Doc Q unleashed his Sick-Sick Fruit, infecting the crew with a feminization disease. Law, drawing upon his Haki, managed to neutralize the effects, restoring himself and his crew to normal.

As they regrouped, Van Augur and Burgess teleported onto the island using the Warp-Warp Fruit. Burgess, empowered by the Strong-Strong Fruit, hurled a massive mountain towards them. Law swiftly countered, slicing the mountain into fragments with his Room and Amputate techniques.

Blackbeard descended upon the battlefield, declaring his intent to seize Law's Road Poneglyph copies. The confrontation escalated as Blackbeard utilized his Quake-Quake Fruit, causing the ground to tremble. Law retaliated with a K-Room-enhanced sword strike, piercing Blackbeard and delivering a shockwave. However, Blackbeard absorbed the attack and countered with his Dark-Dark Fruit, enveloping Law in darkness.

Amidst the turmoil, Beppo's Den Den Mushi crackled to life. "Beppo," a familiar voice resonated. "I'll open a path. Just for a moment. Take that idiot with you."

Recognizing the voice, Beppo's eyes widened. "Y/N!?"

His chest ached.

He remembered you—of course he did. The woman who’d once smiled like a sunrise when Law walked into a room. The one who wore danger like perfume and threw herself between enemies and those she loved without hesitation.

The one who had given Trafalgar Law her heart—and disappeared.

He didn’t ask how you knew where they were. Or why you’d come back now. He only nodded, eyes shining, because of course you would come. Because even after everything, you still loved him.

Beppo tucked the den-den mushi back into his pocket.

A moment was all he needed.

"Now!" you commanded.

Blackbeard loomed over Law, twisted grin slicing through his beard. Blood dripped from his arm as he raised it for the final blow.

“Zehahaha! Looks like your luck ran out, Surgeon.”

But the blow never landed.

Suddenly, the sky darkened as storm clouds gathered. A bolt of lightning struck between the combatants, momentarily blinding everyone. The sky howled. Thunder split the heavens open and slammed into the sea with a fury that shook ships and souls alike.

And then—her.

Your body collided with Blackbeard’s Haki-coated fist, intercepting it, teeth gritted, blood trickling down the corner of your mouth. The force should’ve crushed your ribs. Maybe it did.

But you didn’t stop.

You reflected it.

Blackbeard stumbled back, eyes wide.

“You?!”

The sky shattered again, this time at your command. Lightning lanced down in furious arcs, engulfing the enemy’s ship in glowing chaos. Your power was raw, electric, like nature itself bending to your rage. Bolts cracked the mast, exploded cannons, knocked men overboard.

You didn’t stop to see if it was enough.

You turned, hand outstretched.

“Go!” you shouted at Beppo.

He didn’t argue. He grabbed Law, bloodied and unconscious, and vanished into the shadows like a loyal ghost.

You stayed behind, a storm in human skin.

Channeling your powers, lightning surged from your fingertips, targeting Blackbeard and his crew. The Heart Pirates seized the opportunity, with Beppo grabbing the unconscious Law and retreating to the Polar Tang.

Blackbeard, momentarily stunned, roared in frustration as you continued your assault, ensuring the Heart Pirates' escape.

Days later, somewhere deep in the New World, Law’s eyes fluttered open.

The world was dim, bathed in flickering candlelight. Pain lanced through his side. He hissed softly, hand twitching toward his wound—but someone caught it first.

“Don’t,” you murmured.

He turned his head sharply.

You sat next to the bed, face pale, shadows under your eyes, strands of hair clinging to your face with sweat. Your arm was bandaged, blood seeping through the gauze. You looked… exhausted. Hurt.

Real.

“…You,” he rasped.

“I’m here.”

He stared at you in disbelief.

“I saw you.”

“I know.”

“I thought—”

“I know.”

The silence stretched. Tense. Fragile.

“You shouldn’t have done it,” he said quietly.

“I had to.”

“You could’ve died.”

“You would’ve died.”

Law swallowed hard.

There were so many things he could say. Should say. Things that had burned in his chest since the day you left.

But all he managed was: “You’re hurt.”

“I’ve had worse.”

His jaw clenched. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why’d you vanish?”

You looked down at your hands. “Because I loved you too much. And I knew I was a distraction.”

Law stared at you, stormy eyes unreadable.

“I couldn’t be the reason you lost focus. Not with what you’re trying to do. Not with D’s Will. You had too much on your shoulders already.”

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

You flinched.

“I know,” you said.

Another silence. Softer, sadder.

“I thought I could handle it,” you admitted. “Staying away. Letting you go. But the second I heard Blackbeard had you cornered, I couldn’t breathe.”

Law closed his eyes.

“I panicked. I begged whoever was listening to let me get there in time. I knew I only had one shot. I thought… if I could just save you, it would be enough.”

He opened his eyes again. “And after?”

“I was going to disappear again.”

Law’s lips curled into a humorless smile. “Tch, coward.”

You laughed once, bitter and breathless. “Yeah.”

Silence again.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you whispered.

He reached for your hand, slow but sure. Fingers curled around yours.

“I’d rather see you bleeding beside me than buried somewhere I’ll never find.”

You blinked, stunned.

Law’s grip tightened slightly. “You’re not just a part of my life. You’re the part that makes it worth living.”

You looked away quickly, eyes burning. “You’re still delirious.”

“I’m not.”

You chuckled weakly, wiping at your eyes with your sleeve.

“…I stayed,” you said. “I couldn’t make myself leave again.”

“Good.”

You glanced at him.

“Stay longer.”

You met his gaze. “How long?”

Law let out a slow breath.

“As long as it takes to make you believe I still love you.”

You laughed through your tears. “So… forever?”

He nodded once, solemn.

“Forever’s fine.”

The next morning, Beppo walked in with breakfast and paused at the doorway.

Law was asleep again, but you were curled up in the chair beside him, forehead resting against the edge of the bed, fingers still entwined with his.

He smiled softly to himself and closed the door without a word.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #idk man #idk what im doing #trafalgar law #law #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader

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zarithial · 1 year ago

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Reblog for sample size!

#zari rambles #tumblr polls #i just thought this would be fun to do.

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milotraflgkl · 2 months ago

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.☘︎ ݁˖ Rage and Rescue

.ᐟ WHO: Shanks / Mihawk, One Piece

.ᐟ CONTENT: REQUEST!

.ᐟ WORD COUNT: 791

.ᐟ AUTHORS NOTE: holy shit i’m actually cranking out requests and shit, hope you guys enjoy this one!!

Mihawk wasn’t the type of man to get upset, at least because you can’t see it. There were times you could feel it, just in the way that his presence seemed tense, causing you to feel uneasy, and at times, you would feel sweaty just being next to him, with worries that even if you dared take a breath of air, he would snap at you. Well, not that he would ever, he had a certain thing with you that he would never snap at you, and if he did, it was immediately stopped by himself as he apologized to you immediately.

But to others? He didn’t give anyone else the chance of his soft side, so when he found out that someone had hurt you and taken you from him? It was almost crazy how the sky got dark and the rain began to pour down, thundering and lightning striking closely nearby to the place that these random lowlife pirates had taken you. You knew, your husband was on his way with the way that the air had shifted, and it almost became suffocating. You sat with your arms chained behind you on your knees in a cage in this stupid little dungeon. You had tried to warn them that you wouldn’t be here long, and they wouldn’t get anything from this. They didn’t believe you, laughing in your face and throwing you into the dungeon.

Who was laughing now? You. They were frantically running around their base trying to prepare for the arrival of your husband, who had stormed onto the island angrily asking people who these pirates were and where they were keeping you. When he arrived, he wasted no time taking them all out the instant he set foot inside their base. He didn’t use Yoru on these pirates, opting to use Kogatana, which he would still wipe them out in the same amount of time it would take for him to take out an entire Marine ship. When he found you, he would unlock the door to your dungeon, walking over and undoing the chains around your wrist and kissing them softly because they were red and hurt from how tightly the pirates had put the chains on.

“How dare they treat such a perfect person with such a lack of care?” He would whisper against your wrist before he moved to pick you up, carrying you all the rest of the way back to his ship and heading home to his castle.

Shanks, on the other hand, you touch what’s his? He didn’t waste a second grabbing you back and showing everyone exactly what was his. He likes to show you off and let people know that he is the one who pleases you at night and is the only one to whom you give even an ounce of your attention. (At least in his eyes, he’s the only one who deserves it.)

When he found out some lowlife had taken you to hold you hostage, cause they thought they could keep you to bargain with Shanks and or beat Shanks? He was surprisingly calm. He showed up at their base with his usual smirk on his face, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. His hand was gripped tightly around his sword as he followed the orders that he was the only person who was allowed to go inside; none of the rest of the crew was allowed to come in, so it would be a fair 1v1 against Shanks and this random. It didn’t end up being a fair fight, Shanks knocking down the other guy instantly and then leaving him to bleed out on the floor..

When backups came, he would kill them without even glancing in their direction, his eyes directed at you only faltering when one almost got him nicking his cheek slightly, causing him to chuckle and turn his focus onto this person who somehow managed to slip past him and draw a bit of blood. He would return the favour to the stranger, except more so in the fact that he just… cut their face in half. No mercy for the people who mess with his person. As he finished them off, he would finally come to you, removing the ropes and picking you up instantly, holding you tightly in his arm.

“You are not allowed to go anywhere without me.” He says gruffly against your neck, before he moves to pull back and let his eyes wash over your body to see if they have done any bodily harm to you. When he thought you were good, he would carry you back to the ship. You now can’t go anywhere without him, not even to the bathroom.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #milotraflgkl #one piece strawhats #with: shanks #dracule mihawk #shanks x you #shanks x reader #mihawk x reader #x you #x reader

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akeaaan · 2 days ago

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A Voice Across Times

Jinu X Fem.Reader

Synopsis:

╰┈➤ In a world where demons hide behind charm and shadow, and hunters cloak their pain in rhythm and steel, a voice—forgotten by history—rises once more. You're a fresh graduate trying to survive Seoul's chaos, drawn to music for reasons you can't explain. When you're unexpectedly chosen as the fourth member of an elite demon-hunting team, your quiet life unravels into one laced with monsters, secrets, and echoes of a past that doesn't seem to belong to you. And then there's him. Jinu—mysterious, distant, and impossibly familiar—stares at you like he's seen a ghost. But ghosts don’t bleed. Ghosts don’t weep. And ghosts don’t remember love. Some voices don’t fade with time. Some betrayals don’t stay buried. And some souls are meant to meet again… even if it means breaking the world to do so.

PROLOGUE

Four Hundred Years Ago Joseon Dynasty

The earth groaned before it split.

Cracks—veins of glowing pink light—ran like lightning bolts across the ground, fracturing the land as if the very bones of the world were snapping under pressure. From these wounds in the earth, they came.

Demons.

They spilled out like a nightmare set free—some as small as stray dogs, others towering like twisted trees, their limbs jagged, eyes glowing with hunger. No two were alike, but all shared one thing in common: they reeked of death and fed on fear.

Panic erupted.

Men sprinted through the dirt roads of the village, their feet pounding against the cracking earth. One of them stumbled—just a pebble, no larger than a coin, but enough to send him sprawling. He screamed, arms thrown over his head in a desperate, useless shield.

The demon hovered over him, its grin stretching impossibly wide. A sickening slurp echoed as a ghostly blue mist—the man's soul—was sucked from his body. He jerked once, then stilled.

Eyes open. Mouth agape. Dead.

For centuries, demons have stalked the shadows of our world—stealing souls to strengthen the one who rules them all.

Gwi Ma. The Demon King.

Back then, humanity stood no chance. The strongest warriors had no weapon that could pierce demon hide. Villagers locked their doors, huddled in corners, whispering desperate prayers to their forgotten gods, hoping the darkness would pass over their homes.

On the outskirts of one such village, a woman—weathered with age but not broken—stood trembling before a beast. She clutched a crude rake, hands shaking, shielding the small child behind her. Her daughter's tiny fingers clung to her skirt, tears silently trailing down her cheeks.

The demon snarled, crouching low, ready to pounce.

But before it could strike—

Swish.

A blur of light sliced through the air, followed by the demon's shriek. Its body split in two before dissolving into ash, carried away by the wind.

Where it once stood, a woman appeared.

Silks of pale blue and soft pink flowed around her like smoke. Her armor shimmered in the moonlight, and a sword—still humming with power—was clenched tightly in her hand. She was not just a warrior.

She was a protector.

The child's eyes widened. A gasp escaped her lips, then bloomed into a smile.

"Unnie..."

The warrior knelt beside her, placing a warm, gloved hand atop the child's head before turning to the mother.

"It's not safe here, eomeonim," she said gently, but firmly.

Then she turned back to the child, brushing her hair away from her face. Her eyes, sharp yet soft, searched the girl's face before she cupped her cheek.

"I'll protect you. No matter what," she whispered, voice thick with emotion. "That is my promise... to your brother."

A tender kiss to the child's forehead sealed the vow. She rose, her silhouette framed by smoke and ash.

"Get inside. Lock your doors. Do not open them until the village is safe."

The mother nodded, holding back tears, and hurried her daughter into the small home. The door closed with a soft thud behind them.

Alone once more, the warrior turned. Her gaze swept across the burning village, locking onto the wave of demons descending from the hills.

She gripped her sword tighter. Her eyes narrowed.

And then, without hesitation— She ran toward the chaos.

a/n: HELLO I am happy to announce that I was blessed by a magnificent idea when I was listening to Dimple by BTS AND honestly we need MORE jinu fanfics yall so I'm giving you a full course meal with this one. Buckle up buttercup this one will be a SERIES. I'm not exactly sure how many chapters this will take BUT I'll really try to make the chapters longer. Actually, this is a pretty nice prologue a little short, but ill try to make the first chapter longer, but also not adding too much information. Do drop theories and notes, I love reading them. <3

AVAILABLE ON WATTPAD

#jinu x reader #kpop demon hunters #kpdh #fem reader #kpdh x reader #jinu kpdh #saja boys x reader #x reader #jinu kdh #kpop demon hunters au

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