#'character is handed something and asks 'whats this?' and the question is explicitly answered and described'

[ozzgin]

Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff

Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!

Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats

Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea

[Main Story] | [General Headcanons]

Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.

"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.

"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."

"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"

The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.

"I see. That's good."

"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."

"That's good."

Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.

"You okay?"

Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.

They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.

The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.

The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.

***

You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.

It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”

You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.

“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.

He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”

You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.

“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.

Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.

To hell with it.

“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”

“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.

“N-no?”

“Would you mind staying over?”

“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.

“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.

He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.

“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”

Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.

“What wrong idea?”

Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.

“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.

“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.

The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.

“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”

You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.

“I’m dead serious.”

He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.

“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.

Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.

As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.

“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”

“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.

He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.

“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”

You nod erratically.

The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.

“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”

He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.

“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.

In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”

He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.

Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.

***

“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”

You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.

“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”

The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.

Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.

“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”

“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”

“What?” You ask, baffled.

“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.

“Are you out of your mind?”

He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.

“I’m only going to ask once.”

You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.

“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”

“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”

He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.

“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”

From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.

His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.

“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”

You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.

“Go ahead.” You finally confess.

He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.

One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.

“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”

He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.

“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”

You glare at him, feverish.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”

Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”

Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.

“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”

“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”

Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.

“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.

His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.

“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”

“I’m just…” your words trail off.

“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”

Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He sighs loudly.

“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”

Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.

“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”

“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.

[gyuswhore]

Never Shall We Die (3; final)

«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »» 

PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader

PLAYLIST: right here!

pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)

SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool? The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows. Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.

GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk

WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k

Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3 [final] : 15.8k

@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman

masterlist

WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tags: hoshi loves thighs, corruption kink to the mAX, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), breast play, p in v sex (unprotected, 1800s contraception will make you prefer it but pls dont do this irl), making out

[AN]: final part oh my god if youve read the other parts up till now, THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU i hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as i loved writing it, im really proud of this fic and im so happy so many of you have enjoyed it so far. @highvern betaing as always ty for not giving up on me. AS ALWAYS, PLS TELL ME YOUR THOTS IN THE RBS OR THE REPLIES OR SEND ME AN ASK LITERALLY WTV MUAH MUAH HAPPY READING <3

THIS IS THE NICEST PRISON Hoshi has ever been in, which was saying something, because he had been in quite a lot of prisons. 

But it was uncomfortable nonetheless, six grown men tied up and shoved into a crouching space to be done with as the men that prowled above pleased. 

Hoshi would be lying if he said he hadn’t had to restrain from pushing some of those sorry soldiers into the ice waters beyond the glaciers. He had resisted, the crew had resisted, but just enough to convince them of their unwillingness. 

Hoshi had realised early on that there was no possible way of getting aboard Tigress without somehow climbing aboard the King’s boat first. The king wasn’t about to simply hand Hoshi’s ship over, and there was no indication that they'd wait till after nightfall to depart. 

Hoshi also knew that the King would refuse to have him die so easily in the waters of the Green Islands, his pride depended on it. He imagines the man drawing up the specifics of the most gruesome execution the Kingdom would ever see. Hoshi was counting on it. 

The bounds could’ve been broken out of and the locks somehow picked, but Hoshi also knew that he had to wait. Wait for you to find him first. 

“What’s taking her so long?” Jun asks. He’d been the most anxious out of all, the shaking feet and restless moving making it clear. 

“The bomb won’t…go off still strapped to her, will it?” Minghao asks and Hoshi isn’t quite sure he wants to know the answer. 

“It shouldn’t. Not until she pulls the tab. But…”

“But?” Hoshi whips around. “Why is there a but? You were supposed to make sure there was no but!”

“Big bomb, more boom, less predictable!” 

“Are you sure we can’t break out and look for her ourselves?” Mingyu grumbles, the most compromised with his longer limbs folded in uncomfortable positions.

“The minute they know we’re loose they’ll swarm her. There won’t be a way to get to her, not without fighting off every last bastard on this ship. They’ve taken our stuff too, we don’t stand a chance.”

They did, actually, stand a chance. But that was only if they were to break away and head straight for Tigress that was empty and standing right beside this very ship. But they couldn’t. Hoshi couldn’t. Not without taking you with him. 

Nobody dares to suggest the easier route, and he doubts it’s just because of what he wants. 

But panic was beginning to trickle into Hoshi’s veins anyway, the closed off brig refusing to give him any indication of the time of day. 

The sun was only beginning to set when they were taken to the ship, and he knew they were near done for if they didn’t finish what they started before nightfall. He can’t tell how long it’s been, and it eats away at his insides. 

Please be okay. 

And then he hears it, the sound of a body hitting the floors with a loud thud, a chortle of air before it’s knocked out. He finds himself sitting up straighter, pressing his hands to bars of the prison, trying to peer out the narrow walkway that leads to the doors. 

And then you appear in the lamplight, haphazard and ruffled up beyond measure. 

The knife in your hand drips with blood, your shirt torn at the arms, your hands bloodied and bruised. 

When Hoshi sees your face he almost doesn’t recognise you. 

There’s angry blooming marks of red and purple all across your neck and collarbone, your eyes bloodshot and red, watering like you’d been swimming in salt water. 

“Who did this?” he asks before anything else, watching you drop to your knees in front of the prison, unanswering as you fumbled with a giant ring of keys in your hand. 

You jam each key into the lock, twisting it to no avail. Your hands are shaking. 

The crew finally twist out of their loose bonds, Minghao lurching forward immediately, swatting your hands away. He picks out a few skinny pins from his boot, picking the rusty lock. Despite the strange angle, the bars creak open within seconds. 

“There’s…There’s ropes hooked onto the ship on the main deck.” 

Your voice sounds like you’re speaking through sandpaper, talking while struggling to emerge with the bomb you had. 

Hoshi doesn’t know what to do when he crawls out of the space. 

He’d had it all figured out in his head, what would happen in every possible outcome. You getting hurt wasn’t in any of his universal conclusions; especially not on this ship. They’d kill his crew, they might even kill the King with themselves, but you were meant to remain unscathed. 

“Why–why do you look like that? What happened?” Nothing registers in his head, not even when Jun is pushing him out into the hall. 

“Get up to the deck and get out across the lines!” Jun gruffs in his ears. “That bomb’s gonna go off with us still on here.”

He sees the canister that lies in the same prison they had just exited, he sees your mouth moving without sound. All he can think of are the distinct fingerprints around your throat and how it looked like somebody tried to kill you before they tried to kill him. 

“Soonyoung,” he hears you say in a broken voice and that’s all it takes for him to snap out of it. 

His crew is looking at him expectantly. He looks back at the door and sees the crumpled bodies of the prison guards. 

So much for leaving quietly. 

The minute Hoshi is out the door of the brig, he finds a chest next to the collapsed, bleeding soldiers. Kicking it open, he can only scoff as he finds the entire crew’s weapons in such close vicinity. 

He feels better with his dagger at his hip, along with the rest of his knives that he slips into the loops. Even more so with the rest of his crew armed and ready. 

“We know where the deck is.” He swallows, eyeing his crew’s weapons in their ready hands. He knew they’d agreed to ensure the clean sinking of the ship, but the fallen bodies on the floor were an ode to a different route they’d have to take. “Don’t hesitate if someone gets in your way.”

Taking cautious steps to the upper decks, he finds more bodies collapsed onto the floor, bleeding and unconscious. He opts to ask you the details later, wondering how you were able to take down all these guards by yourself. 

It isn’t until they reach the stairs that lead to the main deck that he comes across a guard. 

Before the witness can raise any alarm, Hoshi’s slamming the butt of his dagger into the side of his head, knocking him clean unconscious as he falls off the side of the short railing. 

Clambering up the steps as quietly as possible, he raises a hand behind him to signal his crew to halt, peering into the main deck first. 

The sun is still out, but low in the sky as it dips in the sky. There’s a few people on the deck, pacing and moving about in preparation for departure. Angling his gaze, he finds ropes suspended over the edge of the railing, parallel to the water. 

He can’t see Tigress, but he knows that’s what the ropes are hooked on to. 

“Jun,” he beckons. “How long till the bomb on the other ship goes off?”

The bomb Jun had planted in the first ship they had arrived in should be going off any time now, and Hoshi finds himself needing it to go off now. 

Jun barely opened his mouth to reply when the ship shuddered. 

For a moment, Hoshi thinks the bomb in the brigs had gone off, but when he finds the clambering of boots to one side of the ship, opposite to where the ropes tied to Tigress, he realises their surrogate ship had given its last gift to the crew. 

The rest of the ship would be bounding to the main deck to inspect the noise soon, so he shoots a quick, “Hurry!” behind him before stepping onto the main deck. 

The entire deck is occupied with the ship that lies a ways away across the expanse of sea, the beginnings that would soon lead the entire ship to be engulfed in flames. It’s tilting at a dangerous angle. 

Hoshi stands as he uses the crew straight towards the ropes that lead to Tigress. Glancing, he finds Mingyu and Chan already hanging on the suspended ropes, making their way towards the empty deck of their ship. 

Hoshi keeps his eyes on the occupied men on board, still staring at the lightshow that was their old ship. It isn’t until one of them turns, eyes towards the stairs that lead to the lower decks, that his eyes dart to the unfamiliar men on the deck. 

“Fuck,” Hoshi curses, before lunging, grabbing the man by the shoulders and covering his mouth, dragging him wordlessly to the edge before throwing him off the ship and into the icy waters below. 

“Go!” he hears you rasp brom behind him, ushering him to the ropes. 

The crew is gone, Jun making the last jump to land on the deck. They’re running around, pulling ropes and fastening the sails to push the ship off into open waters as soon as possible. 

There’s two ropes that tie the two ships together, and Hoshi ushers you onto one of them, pushing you to suspend yourself before he follows. 

“There’s not enough time, go to the other one!” you tell him, pushing him to hold onto the other tattered rope. 

Soonyoung eyes your state, “Are you sure you can—”

“Yes! I promise I can, please, before they cut both the ropes.”

So he trusts you, eyes straight ahead to the railing of his ship, gripping the rough, frayed rope to push himself towards the deck. His hands burn, but he finds himself moving ever closer to his final destination. 

His hand grabs hold of the wooden railing of his Tigress at long last, pulling himself onto the deck of his beloved ship. Immediately whipping his head to his right, he tries to find you reaching the ship with him. The crew is preoccupied in attempting to get the ship ready for departure, he finds your form nowhere. 

When he looks back, the rope he had climbed was gone, leaving gaping space in its absence. He trails the second rope, from the hook that had dug into the railing of Tigress’s wood, trailing it to the naval ship’s deck. 

What he sees puts his heart in his throat. 

You stand on the deck of your father’s ship, swarmed by now alert guards and soldiers who swarm you, yelling profanities and orders as they watch their prisoners get away right in front of them. 

Hoshi watches as you lift your dagger, and cut the last rope that ties you together, free to fall and hit against the hull of his ship.

He calls out your name in what could only be described as a guttural scream. 

His crew halts whatever it was they were doing, taking the steps to realise what had just happened. 

Hoshi’s boot meets the top of the railing, ready to take the plunge into the water. He’d climb back up the ship and get you out. He doesn’t know what you were thinking, what he was thinking when he left you there, but he’d get you out. 

Arms pulling him, he’s yanked back and positively thrown onto the deck.

“What is wrong with you?” Minghao yells, pushing his captain back as he springs up. 

“She—”

Your father emerges from the crowd of guards and soldiers that run rampant on the deck, approaching you at the railing of the main deck. 

Hoshi sees the hand that remains on his shoulder, the blood that covers the still bleeding wound, the effort it takes him to simply walk. 

The bruises on your neck, the wound at his shoulder that looks like it was slashed through by a knife. 

And then it clicks in Hoshi’s head, what had truly happened in the hours that you were out of his sight. And all he sees is red.

WITH THE WAY THE words on the pages seem to double, you would’ve thought you were going mad. 

You’re a child, barely grown into your own body as you sit in the dimly lit library of the palace, utterly exhausted, wishing to be anywhere but sitting at the wooden desk with your name on it. The moon barely shone through the window, your only source of light the fireplace that burned in the corner and your lamplight. 

It was a time where you felt like you could prove yourself, that perhaps, the reason your father refused you his approval was because you were simply not working hard enough. And now, at an hour where you should be fast asleep in your four poster bed, you attempt to understand diplomatic structures and everything that made your country what it was. 

It was late, and there was nothing you would’ve liked more than to put your head on the table and rest your eyes for a few tantalising seconds, which you do, right over the book you were reading. 

You awoke in the same place, shaken awake by a panicked looking servant, the sun shining through the great windows of the palace library.

It seems your disappearance from your bedchambers had put the entire palace in disarray, not realising the princess was fast asleep behind the giant pile of books other servants had already skimmed past thrice. 

Not only were you unable to recite the rankings of the constitutions with the vigour your father required, but you were unable to give him a reason as to why you were absent for both breakfast and morning lessons. 

He made the servants kneel in the throne room for hours, and did not fail to tell you that it was all your fault.

And now, in the ice cold of the Green Islands, old and wise enough to know that your father simply needed a reason to despise his heir, you accept the hands around your throat as his final act of terror. 

Red faced and arms shaking, your father does not speak to you as he presses down on your windpipe with all his might. Your vision is going dark and splotchy, and you decide, for a moment, to let him have this moment. 

He’s too preoccupied in applying his pressure to realise that you’ve raised your right foot enough for your hands to fish out your knife from its place, taking positivity in the handle of your knife that fits in your hand. 

Before you can lose consciousness, you raise your arm high, and plunge it directly into his neck. 

Howling, he releases you from his hold, both of you dropping to the floor of the ship with a resonating thud. You cough, sputter and hack, cold hands finding your now warm neck. 

Your father lays clutching his shoulder as he remains in agony on the floor, and you realise you missed the crucial plunge in your own disarray. 

It was good enough, rendering the old man incapable of finding his bearings. 

You watch as he writhes on the floor of the quarters that almost became your figurative deathbed, the same hands that wrapped around his own daughter’s throat now clutching the shallow wound that renders him useless. 

Standing over him, throwing your own shadow on his body, you feel a surge of power, a rush of adrenaline that shoots straight to your head. Perhaps this was your circulation returning from the deprivation, but you let the feeling imprint in your soul, let your father’s broken figure bring you satisfaction.

You leave him there, writhing in pain, digging your knife under the lock of the quarters, pulling back to break it away from the door. The guards stationed outside do nothing as you leave, and it isn’t until you’ve taken to lower decks that you hear the distinct yell of, “Your Majesty!”

Two more guards, who don’t expect an altercation from their princess, simply buffer as you send your knife plunging into them both. You do it deep this time. 

Nobody was innocent, you knew these people as your father’s closest men, and knew that all of them were to remain silent as their King murdered his daughter. And when the remorse doesn’t do that thing where it trickles in after doing a bad thing, you decide you weren’t part of the innocents either.

It’s easier than you would’ve expected to get to the crew in the brig, letting out a sigh of relief as you appreciate the familiarity of people on your side. 

And when Hoshi took his place to guide everyone out and into the open space of the main deck, you let your racing mind rest and decide to trust the man in whatever decision he made to lead you all out. And he did, he led himself and his crew right into the ship that was theirs, safe and where they would have the upper hand. 

Hoshi didn’t know it when he climbed onto the ropes that lead to his boat that he wouldn’t have made it if you hadn’t stayed, hadn’t used your voice of authority to keep the soldiers from attempting to shoot at the escapees, cut the rope while Hoshi remained suspended from it, still only halfway there. 

You didn’t look at him when you sliced both ropes before either party could pull back, didn’t register him screaming your name across the void, pretending it wasn’t taking everything out of your strength.

But you couldn’t jump into the water, not now when a dozen of the royal guards remained ready to take the plunge to save their princess as their duty. The same guards that would comply with their king when told the princess was dead for reasons they all knew but were to forget. 

The bomb had to go off first, and you had to keep them away from hooking another line to the ship in the meantime. You were operating on a flawed plan and an overenthusiastic crowd of guards that were moments away from shooting a canon straight into the side of the disconnected pirate ship.  

The distraction comes in the form of your father parting the crowd of soldiers like the red sea, swatting every soldier that attempts to help his bleeding form for anything it was worth. He approaches you at the railing, and for once, you don’t look at the ground in his presence. 

“Bold,” he heaves, the effort in his voice apparent. “Bold of you to think you could slip away.”

“I haven’t tried to slip away, father,” you correct. “I’ve stayed right here, even after you failed to kill me. And I, you.” 

“Nobody is going to listen to you, child. Give in. This is the easy way out,” he says. 

As if on cue, Jun’s bomb goes off for the second time, but this time the ship shudders with more force. It has your father unbalance and fall, along with multiple other soldier’s stumbling. You grip the railing tight, counting on your father’s need to live. 

Despite your horrid throat and the ache in your body, you announce as loud as you can. “The bomb is in the brig, this ship is sinking.”

The fallen king trembles in a rage you had never quite seen before. Any other time of your life, you would’ve wished for the ground to swallow you whole to be the subject of such anger. 

Except, in the setting sun, a burning ship in the background, a pirate ship that awaits you, and the ground beneath your feet that was actively sinking into the freezing water; you smile at your doomed King. 

“Get to the brig! Secure the lower decks, do not let this ship sink or so help me God!” His voice rings across the deck, spittle blowing from his mouth at the situation. 

And just like that, your father gives you the final gift of clearing the main deck out for you, leaving but a few straggling soldiers that are too preoccupied with either the sinking ship or their bleeding sovereign. 

Looking back, you find the crew of Tigress standing at the railing, you find Hoshi already half over the edge and send him a slow nod. 

Turning back to your father that remains on the floor of the ship that would become his coffin, you utter your next words; for yourself, and the girl that was every second before this, all the way to her first ever memory of sad:

“You’ve taught me to be a ruler fit to be the best for our Kingdom. Consider your death my first act of service for the Crown.”

And then you jumped into the darkening void of the waters below. 

THE COLD FEELS LIKE every nerve in your body ceased to work. 

It was nothing at first, the temperature so intense it had your body numb in the face of shock. And then it grew, to a striking cold, and then a feeling that pricked every inch of your skin like a million needles plunging into your body. It was only getting worse with each passing second, before it was so painful it was hot, going from cold to searing and blistering like you’d plunged into the licks of flames. 

Nowhere in your body did you find a rational sense of mind, something to tell you to kick, flail or float. The warped sky was an orange through the green, only more vibrant. Like there were two ships actively burning on the surface of this water. 

Hoshi’s face appears behind your closing eyelids, like a mirage or a taunt. Like he was there with you when he wasn’t. 

Would he come for you? Would he take the plunge for the girl he held in his arms, promising her something to fill the gap of a companion, right before she killed her own? 

You’d given him what he wanted; your father, his worst enemy, dying as he sank slowly into the bottom of the ocean. You’d run your course of use, and if he was as smart as people claimed, he’d leave you to suffer the same fate as your father. 

He could find his freedom elsewhere. 

And you would find your freedom in the close of your eyes, and the sinking feeling of nothingness. 

Except, you feel a hardness against your body, stronger even than the current of the waters. Moving impossibly upwards, you remember opening your eyes to find a leather cord suspended in the float of the water, before you remember nothing. 

THE GREEN ISLANDS WERE on fire.  

But as unnatural as it seemed, Hoshi had no inclination to register anything but the way the ship in front of him tilts so far out it's already half submerged in the waters. He’d assumed they might have to ready the cannons, but with the way debris and hollowed wood floats in the waters below, they would not need to. 

The King was about to be introduced to Davy Jones’ Locker at the hands of his enemy and successor, but Hoshi could not care enough right now to relish in it. 

Right now, he stares at the direct circumference of water your body had made contact with and disappeared into, like the world would explode if he lost his place. 

“Should I jump as well?” Mingyu asks, already half taking his boots off. However, when the man turns to find his captain gone, he lurches over the railing to find his captain diving into the water through all the debris.

Hoshi lets the momentum of his dive take him as further down as possible, whipping his head around as soon as his eyes open into the abyss. The water ripples and erupts in showers of bubbles as broken pieces of ship come apart to fall into the water. It blurs his vision immensely, any ripple that could be you in the water coming out to be yet another piece of wasted wood. 

The deeper he goes, the more the water presses into his ears. He was a good swimmer, good at holding his breath when needed, but even he had limits. 

When he cannot see any sign of you, he begins to feel the churning of something skin to panic brew. Panic was never good, not this deep in the water. 

Twisting and turning, flailing about in place, moving dangerously closer to the burning ship that continued to drop flaming bits of killing slabs, he finds no sign of you in the water. 

Instead, he watches men in uniform sink deeper and deeper in their failed attempts to stay afloat. 

All he can think about is if they were losing the battle for air, then so were you, somewhere deeper in the void than he was. He prays that he’s looking aimlessly, that you’ve already somehow made your way to the surface by yourself, and you were safe on the deck. 

The beaded bracelet that remained on his wrist, but belonged to you. 

“A reason for you to come out of this alive.”

Even without the encasing on his wrist, you had given him more than enough reason to want to come out of this alive, to want to live beyond just for himself and his duty to the crew he’d taken in. 

He chose the life of a pirate because it was his only out, and every member of his crew that he recruited in succession, he acted as the hand he had needed so desperately in that awful brothel where his mother despised him and his father, a faceless man of Port Ash. 

Amphitrite was not kind, it was a lesson he learned quickly in his first ventures out at sea. So he too, had to learn to be unkind, to survive in the horrid bellies of ships that weren’t his own. And when Tigress came into his life like a vessel of hope, he found a home in her merciful wood, in the ship that he could call his very own. 

Hoshi lived as a free man on his ship, with his crew that had become his brothers in ways beyond what the thick of blood could offer. He did not care if he lived or died after that, as long as it was on his ship, in the waters that held no quarter for anyone, but gave him everything that nothing else could give him. 

And so when you approached him with a proposal so bizarre yet so apt for a man like him, he could not refuse. It may have been the way he saw himself in you, terrified of the prospects  but thirsting for an escape more than the fear that came with it. 

Besides, the king was a nuisance that needed to go, and he found himself agreeing to play the hand too complicated for you. 

What he did not expect was to end up here, in the depths of the ocean in the most uninhabitable part of the earth, trying to pull you out of the cold, unrelenting sea. 

Hoshi realises in that moment that this might ruin him, the possibility of breaking the surface without you. 

He decides that if the heavens do not let him find you, he would simply drown in the same waters that gave him purpose, and find peace with the idea that he would lay rest in the same waters as the person who might have given him something more. 

Kwon Soonyoung, the deadliest pirate to cleave the seas, was in love with you. A princess, so undeserving of a man like him; a bastard, a rogue, a good for nothing criminal. 

And when he spots the all too familiar build of your form, the linen shirt under the corset he had tied for you just hours ago, the dark brown trousers that signified the change he’d brought into your life, he swore to leave everything he’d ever known to thank the skies and seas for bringing him to you.

His burning lungs, screaming and searing for air, grabbing for your suspended arm that looked as defeated as your closed eyes. Tugging you towards him, he wraps his arm around you to press you to him as tight as he could. 

Relief. And with the warm sting in his eyes that he doubted was from the salt in the water, he’s sure of everything he’s felt with the feeling of you in his arms. 

With the bruising on your neck, the bleeding wound in your father’s shoulder, he finds it within his breaking body to begin kicking upwards. 

Every limb, every cell, every hint of life in his body shrieked with its efforts to make him stop. There was no air in his lungs and he’d lost track of time in his search for you, he doesn’t know how long he has. 

But if the blots of nothingness in his eyes were anything to go with, he doesn’t presume he has much. In a last ditch effort, he attempts to kick his boots off to weigh him down a little less, holding your dead weight tighter than anything. 

He was so close, he could feel the warmth of the upper levels of the water change in its temperature on his skin. The glow was near blinding as the orange refracted on the disrupted surface of the ocean, so close yet so far. 

Inch by inch, kick by kick, memory by memory, he does everything left in his drained power to touch the surface. 

And he does, breaking out hand first into the burning air of the world above, taking the longest gasp of air he ever has in his life. Once he’s sure he knows where he is, he pushes you up further on his chest, your head resting against his collarbone, still unconscious. 

“Stay with me, princess,” he pants into your ear, hoping you could hear. “I’ve got you.”

Chan and Mingyu are in the water beside him, pushing him towards the pulley that awaited them. 

Mingyu makes an attempt to take your weight of his already struggling captain, but Hoshi finds himself holding on to you tighter, simply urging him to help him back on the deck. 

The minute your head hits the wood of the deck, he’s checking your pulse. There’s no regard for the chaos that ensues around Tigress, both him and his crew too preoccupied with the way you were not breathing. 

“I–I can’t feel anything,” he stutters his words as Seungkwan places a less panicked hand at your neck, under your nose. 

“It’s weak, she’s taken in too much water.”

In an instant, he reaches for his knife at his hip, only to realise it was gone, lost somewhere in his rescue. 

“Knife,” he rasps before repeating louder. “Someone give me a knife!” 

The minute a hilt is in his hands, he’s pushing you over, to reach the back of your constricting corset, pushing his knife into the complicated sailing knot he’d tied it into before, breaking it free. With both hands, he takes hold of the top of the corset and rips it clean in half. 

Turning you back over, he presses his hands over your clothed stomach, pushing into it with all his strength in an attempt to get the water out of your system. He keeps his eyes on your face, and when he sees no sign of you coming round, he feels another set of hands pushing him off. 

Seungkwan takes over for his weakened captain, pushing into your stomach harder, attempting to get a break out of you. 

“Why isn’t she coming around, what’s going on?” He throws the question aimlessly as he takes your unmoving face in his hands, trembling from everything. 

Only a moment later, he hears the glorious sound of you sputtering like something was stuck in your throat, promptly spilling out an ungodly amount of water onto the deck as you retch loudly. 

Sitting up from the force, your hands clamp onto the deck as you cough and heave, Hoshi’s hand coming behind you to thump your back hard, pushing you to throw up any remaining seawater from your body. 

The sight of your back moving up and down, the audible sound of you taking in air; it was enough for Hoshi to simply lay on the deck and pass out. 

You rear your head and look up at him, both of you still breathing heavily. 

“You’re okay,” he assures, gulping. He takes your face in hands cupping it very gently as he speaks to you. “Go with Seungkwan, you’re okay, you’re safe.”

Nodding, you let yourself be helped up by the rest of the crew, watching as you’re led to the lower decks of the ship. 

“Open your shirt, let me see the wound,” Mingyu says, and Hoshi doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Looking down, he sees his shirt soaked in red, sticking to a wound on the right side of his torso. He didn’t even know where he got it. 

It looks like a shallow gash, but enough to leave a scar. He takes it better to have it tended to while he was still high on adrenaline and he couldn’t feel much of the pain. 

By the time Mingyu and Minghao are done cleaning him up and Hoshi’s standing upright with wobbly legs, he finds the two burning ships beyond his own mere floating structures of wood that were in slow flame. There’s too much debris, too many bits of everything that bob in the large expanse of water to make out any bodies. 

“There’s nobody,” Mingyu tells him. “Most of them were in lower decks when it all went down. Trapped themselves.”

“And…?” he asks in silence. 

“He stayed on the deck until it sank,” Minghao informs. “Yelling about how he…about how he should’ve finished her when he had the chance.”

“Horrible king and somehow an even worse father,” Mingyu scoffs. “Made it better to watch him die.”

“He didn’t suffer enough,” Hoshi croaks as the marks on your throat dot his vision. 

Just then, floating in the water, illuminated by the final streaks of setting light, Hoshi sees it. A darkened purple cloth right next to the hull.

“That,” he points out. “Get that out of the water.”

The late king’s purple cape laid on the deck of Tigress, darkened with water, but also with his blood.

To the Kingdom, this cape would be the last piece of their King that was gone too soon. But for every person on this ship, it would forever be their spoils of war.

Hoshi makes sure the cape will be dried and stored, ordering his crew to begin their slow journey out of the Green Islands, before he too crumples onto the deck unconscious. 

IT WAS A SPECTACLE to see Hoshi in his element. 

Something about how he seemed to beam, like this ship was charging him a different kind of energy. It was infectious, the rest of the ship decreasingly sour as they put on musical performances on the main deck while they cleaned the floors. 

As relieved as you felt, the tight ball of anxiety refused to leave the pit of your stomach as you grew closer to the Kingdom. Nothing could prepare you for the shitstorm you’d have to deal with the moment you’d step onto the soil off a pirate ship of all things—let alone as Queen. 

The first few days following the ship's exit from the Green Islands were difficult, if that was all you had to describe it. You took to your hammock for most of the day, curled up as you pretended to sleep, only waking up when one of the crew would come down to force feed you and to make sure you hadn’t died. 

You knew they were doing all this to make you feel better, and somehow it was working. More than halfway through your journey, you began to feel more like yourself, emerging from your cave to visit the deck on times other than the nights. 

Even now, as you sit on the floor of the deck with Seungkwan, who hands you an all too familiar stack of parchment, you feel nothing as you take them into your hands. As you read his handwriting scrawled in ink, you appreciate your past self for having the sense to keep them all. 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better now,” he says to you. “Had us worried for a while there.”

“Sorry.” You smile weakly. “But thank you for…everything. I don’t think I could ever express how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. All of you.”

“I’d like to think we’ve gone past the status of mere business partners,” Seungkwan chuckles. “Lion befriends the bear? Whatever it is. But know we’d do it again.”

Blinking back the sting of tears and doing your very best to not let the warm feeling in your chest overwhelm you, you place the letters on the floor next to your folded legs. When you look up, Seungkwan's eyes are on your neck.

“They’re taking their time to fade, aren’t they?” you say. 

Seungkwan has a hard look in his eye, “I guess you didn’t need your letters to remind you of anything after all.”

Your mind wanders, drifting past how easily this crew could have been forgotten in the unforgiving elements. Perhaps you would have let the man that wrapped his hands around your neck finish his job.

“Was getting captured part of your grand plan?” you ask Seungkwan. 

“Hm?” It takes a moment to realise what you may be questioning him about, smiling slightly. “What makes you think we went in with a plan?”

“I thought I asked you to man the wheel?” Hoshi stands above the both of you.

“Not to batten down the hatches,” he side-eyed his captain. “Clear waters ahead, the wheel does not need manning.” 

You zone out as they squabble over nothing, not finding the heart to be entertained by their back and forth. Seungkwan either loses or forfeits, because you feel him rise from next to you, only for his captain to take his place. 

“What are you thinking about?” Hoshi asks. 

“Everything,” you sigh. 

“How come Seungkwan gets a thank you for your service and I don’t? Need I remind you who jumped for you and who didn’t?”

Rolling your eyes, you answer him, “Thank you, Captain Hoshi Kwon, I am forever indebted to your service.”

He chuckles in exaggeration, “Oh please, all in a day's work.”

“I mean it.”

“Hm?”

“I never did say thank you. But you did jump for me when you didn’t have to.”

“Who said I didn’t have to?”

“Our deal was done.”

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Our deal was to get you out when you jumped. I merely honoured that promise!”

“Merely?” you raise a brow. “Was it all merely a matter of conscience?”

His gaze locks with yours. “Don’t ask questions you know the answers for. I would’ve jumped even if you asked me to rope myself to the mast.”

“Please. I have enough blood on my hands and I haven’t even sat on my throne yet.”

“Blood is only on your hands if you tell a soul of what you’ve done,” Hoshi utters. “You’re the only living soul who knows.”

“And you are…?”

“Pirate. Our word means nothing.” Hoshi smiles. 

The thought hangs in the air as you take in the man in front of you. He’s changed an era’s worth, yet all the same. His hair is longer, going from his initial shorter crop to curling around his ears, shielding his eyes. It makes him look younger, like a boy with much to live for. 

That, and the multitude of notable scars he’s added to his collection, many of which have somehow been because of you. The wound at his torso is doing better, but far to go in its quest to heal. 

Hoshi senses something amiss even after his sermon. Breaking his gaze, he turns to look straight ahead at the raised bow of the ship instead. 

“Do you know how I got my splendid reputation for being the filthiest pirate on the seas?”

You can only stare, “I have a few guesses.”

He chortles, “Other than my criminal status.”

“Tell me.”

“Unnamed sailors have the odds of a peanut facing its inevitable fate of being crushed under a straggling boot. Pirates don’t see the government as their enemy when they’re own supposed brothers are more likely to jam a cannon in their mouths.”

He lets out a heavy sigh before continuing, “My mistake wasn’t that I was on the losing side in my early days, but more about how I was leaving nothing behind when I was done.”

“How humble,” you hum. 

“Dead men tell no tales. When it’s worth it, it might be better to leave a straggler or two to live to tell the tale. A routine stab in the jugular can turn you into somewhat of a myth.”

“Am I a survivor?” you question. 

“You may be sovereign on land, but you’re also an unnamed pirate,” he responds, turning back to lock eyes with you. “And you’ve left nobody to tell the tale.”

No one listens to a pirate, and everyone listens to a Queen. 

“This isn’t to say there won’t be a legend that follows you.” He quirks a brow as he speaks. “Shows up and claims her father and his entire ship and crew sank at sea, only to befriend his sworn enemies in the aftermath. And then it evolves; she sent a cannon through her fathers ship, he died at the end of his own daughter's sword, she cursed him to captain a crew of the undead for eternity.”

“Have I planted the seeds for yet another ghost story?” It’s difficult to not giggle at the thought, despite how morbid. 

“You’ve given yourself substance,” he says, a little stronger than before. His eyes too, wander to your neck and the bruises that refuse to budge. “Beyond just a royal or even a pirate. You did it for your honour as a human being, and that may be braver than anything I have ever conquered.”

In your anxiety ridden, feeble mind, your thoughts had convinced your conscience that everything would be over the minute your father’s heart stopped beating. That it would bring you peace at last. 

And it did, especially when it felt like you’d gotten rid of this constant monster under the bed that had followed you far into adulthood. But from the bleeding heart of the creature emerged yet another one of its brethren, and then another and then another. 

Smaller albeit, but monsters nonetheless. Problems nonetheless. 

Weeks of this, and in one short interaction, Hoshi seemed to have given you the key to turn this monster into a pet. 

On instinct, you feel your hand reach up, brushing against the skin of his cheek. It’s an all too familiar setting, seated on the deck of a ship too close for anybody but yours’ comfort. But without the rum and resentment, of course. And how you doubt he’d pull away this time. 

Very lightly, you brush your lips against his. It was nothing but to simply feel him again, to feel a semblance of familiarity. 

You feel him take your hand that rests on his cheek to place a kiss on your palm, nuzzling his nose into the concave of your hand. 

Everything that was to come seemed a little more possible in that very moment. 

Even more so when his fingers found the sensitive areas of your coloured throat, when his lips closed against your jaw, only to trail lower and to press into the marks his fingers continue to trail tucked into your neck. 

That night, when slipping into your hammock felt like the most unbearable prospect in your near future, it couldn’t possibly be worse than uttering your next question to the man that seems to fix it all.  

“Will you stay with me?”

With nothing but the light snores of the rest of the crew and the creaking of the ship, both you and Soonyoung laid in a hammock most definitely not meant for two. Head on his chest, ear pressed against where his heart beats under his scar, it’s bliss. 

The feeling of his warm body against yours and the scent of him settling in your lungs, you decide that this was enough. At least for now. 

IT WAS DIFFICULT TO give yourself the full list for obvious reasons, but it does seem to help when you tick off all the possible reasons why your patience has run as thin as it has. 

Sitting at the decorated seat at the convened court of old men appointed by your father, you briefly wonder if you should finish them off too amidst your flash of anger. The men continue to squabble and babble about the next course of action, slamming their wrinkled hands on the pristine table and sending their own daggers of threats to the other inhabitants of the table. 

“If you’d like to send a search party for the King’s body, be my guest,” you finally speak, having had quite enough when the throb in your temple worsens. “But remind me what troops you’ll be sending to the North if your best men will be gone for months attempting to find a body they never will.”

The dispute in the North side of the Kingdom was taking up most of the conversation anyway, and you doubt they’d put customary burial rites over their own glory of victory the North would bring. 

“Your Majesty—”

“I would happily jump on the next search ship for my father,” you lie through your teeth. “But I watched him drown in front of my own two eyes, and as the next sovereign I cannot let you waste our resources for something that will both risk our soldier’s lives and have them come back home empty handed.”

Perhaps you had come off slightly more heartless than you intended, so you quickly add, “Please, let my father rest in peace.”

That seems to end the conversation easier than you had expected, but they’re quick to jump to the next issue not long after. 

“The court would also like to bring light upon the palace guests.”

Tightening your jaw, you slump against your seat slightly. “What about them?”

They remain silent as their mouthpiece attempts to form the right words for the following question, mostly because you’ve addressed this multiple times beforehand but they continue to sit restless. 

“Allow me to help you, Lord Bridge,” you sit up straighter, intending to put this matter to rest. “My guests will remain here for as long as they do, and if you have any more arising issues towards my guests I will only take it as your collective issues towards me.” 

In the moment of silence, you continue, “The Kingdom is in a place of instability as we are all well aware. I find it most appalling that you remain fixated on trivial matters of the palace’s domestic code of conduct than you do for the wellbeing of this country!”

Silence yet again as you wait for their forcibly rehearsed chorus of apologies. 

“Our greatest apologies, your Majesty.”

The pain in your temples becomes near unbearable as you dismiss the table after that, screeching your chair as you push it back as loud as you possibly can to do nothing but spite the men. 

Turning the corner out of the room, you catch the open gates that lead to the paved gardens outside, the sun seeping into the marble floors indoors. Taking an instinctive step towards the gardens, you find most of the crew sprawled onto the grass as they soak in the sun. 

Chan and Seungkwan look like they’re wrestling, their laughter ringing throughout the open court while their captain snaps at them to cut it out, only to get roped under one of their headlocks all the same. 

There’s a call of your name and a giant wave from Mingyu, who spots you from beyond the flower beds. Still leaning against the gates, you smile and wave back. 

Years the halls of the palace had gone, never hearing laughter in its walls. And something about watching them let themselves ruin the petunias and laugh so loud it echoes, heals you just a bit. 

Even that night, when you find yourself in your giant four poster bed you’ve slept in since you were a child, this time dozing under the arm of another, you feel the itch of a healing wound somewhere in your heart. 

Soonyoung laid with you for every night on the ship since that night, and stayed even here where the space was big enough to host the ghosts of your worries if not distracted. 

He had found you on that first night in the palace still awake, haunting the library fireplace with another stack of papers to keep you company. 

“Can’t sleep?” he’d asked as he picked up some of your documents. 

“Clearly not,” you huff. The papers were mere decorations as you attempted to find an excuse to leave your rooms. 

“You realise you won’t be much of an effective monarch if you exhaust yourself to death?”  

There was no answer to that, especially when you were absorbing nothing of your new duties. You’d expected to fall asleep on the armrest of the uncomfortable settee whenever it was that you exhausted your brain of thoughts, even then refusing to sleep in that large bed. 

He’s awfully persuasive, because as he tucks you into those very sheets, about to leave but not before placing a kiss on your forehead You stop him. 

“Stay. Please.”

True as he has always been, he does.

THE CROWN IS HEAVIER than you had expected, even more so when it remains on your head for longer than your previously practised sessions walking around the throne room. The crew was exceptionally good at giving you things to train with, including fraudulent rodent scares to ensure the crown would not topple from your own head the minute you rise from your coronation.

And now, as you finally remove the decorative piece from your head after your actual coronation to replace it with something lighter for the following ball, you find relief in the fact that you’d only ever have to wear the actual thing only a few times in your life. 

Everything moves as smoothly as it could, the decorated pirates that saved their Queen from a horrid shipwreck taking up most of the attendees attention as they either question inquisitively or send snarky remarks to the men who are well versed in how to rebut in true informal manner. 

The past months had taken up more of your time than you had anticipated, and during the latter half of the still twinkling party, you attempted to spot the person you’ve been trying to corner all night. 

Soonyoung stands at the edges of the gathering, empty handed as you watch him reject yet another offer for a drink from the trays that float about. His attire is the most formal you had ever seen, his face scrubbed and hair pushed back for the glorious occasion. 

Approaching him from the sidelines, you take hold of his wrists and pull him towards one of the many doors in the ballroom and into a hallway you knew for a fact was rarely ever frequented. 

“I feel I haven’t seen you ages,” you say once you’re sure you’re alone. 

“Probably best for you to keep busy,” he replies with the smallest smile. 

“Have the wrappings on your wound come off?”

Looking at his covered torso, he runs an instinctive hand over where the wound was. “Just a smaller patch now, but it’s nearly there. Disappointed it won’t scar too much.”

“Disappointed?” 

“These are my spoils of war, miss princess,” he adds with a smirk, before correcting himself. “Ah, miss queen?”

“Doesn’t have the same ring,” you comment. 

“The crown suits you.” His voice is soft and sincere.

Scoffing a little, you answer, “I would hope it did.”

“Although, I do prefer you in trousers and a knife.”

Laughing, you can only agree. Especially in your heavier than yourself dress and jewels. “I think I prefer them too.”

At the mention of your new status, he asks, “Shouldn’t you be milling between your new subjects?” 

Keeping your eyes on his face, you wait until he meets your gaze. “I have more important things to attend to.”

He breaks eye contact first, and you can feel the distance grow further. One reach and you could take his hand in yours. 

But you don’t. 

“I know I’ve been quite busy, but…” you trail off as you attempt to find the words. “Is something the matter? What’s going on?”

With a long sigh, he runs a hand through his kept hair, effectively tousling it a little. “I was going to wait until after the ball to tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He makes no moves to look at you when he utters his next words. “The crew and I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. We’ve taken up enough of your space and it’s best if we don’t intrude any further.”

It’s like you’ve taken a blow to the chest, the air knocked out of your lungs as you register what he’s just said. “You’re….you’re leaving?”

“I would think we’ve both gotten what we wanted. We had a deal.”

Deal? Why was he mentioning that now?

“Are you going to abandon me too?”

His head snaps up to finally meet your eye, mouth opening closing as words betray him. 

“What happened to what you said about gaining you? All of you?” There’s a blatant accusation in your words.

“And you have! We’ll visit. Assuming the state doesn’t want my head on a pike anymore,” he chuckles uncomfortably. 

In a moment of desperation, you take his hand in both of yours; his scarred, gnarled hands that tell you even in the dark who’s warmth it is that you feel every night next to you. 

“Stay. Stay with me, please,” you plead. “I can’t live in this place alone, I despised it when I was young and I’ll only despise it even more now.”

Soonyoung brings his other hand to clasp over both of your own, eyes closing as you hear him take a somewhat shaky breath. “I’m doing this for the both of us.”

“So am I! I can’t possibly rule a kingdom by myself.”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone—”

“I don’t want someone! I want you!”

He begins to whisper your name, moving his face away to blink rapidly. 

“How do you feel about becoming a pirate king? I can never forbid you from the waters, that’s your home, and you will have it.”

He does not look at you, but you know he’s listening more intently than ever before.

“But I ask you as someone who loves you more than I have ever anything else, will you stay and marry me?”

Soonyoung falters as he absorbs the fact that you’ve just proposed to him. 

“I—” he stutters. “The court—”

“The court wouldn’t dare to deny me the man that saved my life.”

You squeeze his hand tighter, moving impossibly closer. 

“And even if they do, I'm ready to fight for the man who fought for me. So answer me as a man and not a pirate, Kwon Soonyoung, will you marry me?”

Soonyoungs mouth enclosing over your own is all the answer you need as you feel him break free of your hands to let them find your waist instead. Amidst the pile of fabric he pushes himself into you as close as possible, letting your hands guide his head to move against your mouth. 

It’s everything, as you grip onto the back of his shoulder, pressing unforgettably into his open mouth. He takes in your bottom lip between his own, sucking before letting go, only to engulf your mouth once again. 

“We’ll figure it out,” you whisper against his lips, feeling the nuzzle of his nose against the apple of your cheek, hot tears spilling from your eyes. “I promise, we’ll figure everything out.”

He shushes you when he feels you shudder in his hold, pulling away to rest his forehead against yours. “No need to torment your pretty head. Not right now.”

For once, you listen to your pirate captain without a fight, simply feeling the stretch of your lips as he moves down to capture them once more. 

The pressure of his hands isn’t nearly as strong as it would’ve felt without the layers upon layers of fabric that cover your form, but standing in this desolate hallway, you swear his fingers might as well be caressing your bare skin underneath. 

The thought sends your mind into a dazzling spin, letting go of his mouth with a gasp, suddenly needing to take a step back. 

“I have to—I have to go back inside,” you breathe into his slick mouth. “Meet me outside my quarters at midnight.”

As scandalous as it was, you could not deny how alive it made you feel to be like this, meeting in darker corners in the dead of night. But for now, you allow him to fix the bits of your ensemble you could not see. With the bad of his thumb, he blends in the smudges of your rouge, swiping at your lips ever so delicately to ensure he leaves no trace of himself. Tucking the loose strands of hair back behind your ears, and finally, fixing the encrusted crown on your head, a flash of one of the diamond’s gleams reflecting onto his perfect face. 

“You’re beautiful.” There’s a dazed look that graces him. “Beyond beautiful.”

With one last innocent press of your smiling mouth onto his, you promise him your midnight. 

BY THE TIME IT was finally an appropriate hour for you to excuse yourself for the evening, you were near to exploding entirely. 

Whispers of “Are you alright, your Majesty?” plaguing you through your already racing mind. It was beyond difficult to keep the constant shaking of your foot unobvious, however you could not simply up and leave whenever you wanted—at least not yet. The monarch would remain in an unstable authoritative position for quite some time after ascension, and with the unorthodox situation at hand, you assume you’d really have to push yourself if you were to be of any use as sovereign. 

But when the time finally came and you were escorted out of the grand ballroom, only mere ticks away from the resounding bells of midnight, you were holding back from breaking into a sprint. Outside your quarters it was empty, but you remain steadfast in your refusal for your ladies in waiting tonight, promising you could dress yourself for bed on your own. 

Standing at the double doors of your rooms, still the princess’ quarters as you refuse to move into the Queen’s rooms, you stand waiting. The two guards remain staring straight ahead, and you wait for the clicking of your ladies to go muffled before you ask. 

“Has the Captain approached?” 

“No, your Majesty.”

You try not to feel disappointed, despite knowing the midnight bells were yet to sound. “If he does, allow him in, please.” 

Opening the double doors, you half wish you had let your ladies help you out of the god awful dress, tight and loose in all the wrong places. The jewels are thrown haphazardly on your vanity, needing the heavyweight of them off of your body. 

Perhaps months of little to no bedazzling had rendered you incapable of wearing anything mildly less comfortable than linen and leather, but you suppose you’d slip back into the habit just as easily as you slipped out of it. Your nightgown feels like heaven on your tired, tired body, and the dimly lit interior of your bedchamber is only encouraging you to slip under your covers and fall deep into sleep. 

That was one thing about the ship you doubt you’d ever miss. 

Three rapt knocks outside of the heavy double doors have you sitting rapt at attention, hastily making your way to the door from your vanity. Pressing the front of your nightgown down, you open the door slightly and poke your head out. 

Soonyoung stands at the door, nervous of all things, still clad in his full suit. You smile as you let him in, closing the door to turn the lock. 

“Your guards mortify me.” 

“Oh? So they’re doing their job right?” You walk up to him and grasp onto his lapels, pulling him down to meet the lips you’ve missed so much despite only being hours apart. “Why? Has this big bad pirate found his match in the palace guards of all places?”

“Hmm,” he’s humming against your lips. “I could take them both.”

Giggling like you were in love, you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close. 

“I hope you weren’t bothered too much,” you say. “The aristocracy seem to have being a pain in the ass written in their birthrights.”

“I think they were too scared to approach, probably thought I’d start swearing and snatching the pearls right off their necks. Some of them were bearable, asked me how long my sword was.”

It’s difficult to not laugh at that, “Well?”

He raises his brows unceremoniously, “Won’t you like to know?”

Taking the opportunity while you giggled uncontrollably at the situation, he goes back placing never ending kisses to your mouth. Sighing involuntarily, you melt into him once again, infinitely more relaxed than in the hallway. 

Soonyoung’s eyelashes brush against yours in a whisper of their own, only reminding you how close you were to him in the moment. His kisses go from soft and fleeting to something with a little more vigour. The warmth of his mouth goes back to overtaking the lower half of your face, sucking and licking into your mouth like his life depended on it. 

If your mind was reeling when his hands were merely ghosts of pressure over your heavy dress, the feeling of his palms and fingers so distinct over your nightgown, the only thing separating you two, is enough to have your knees begin to buckle. 

From your waist, they move to your back, before caressing back to the sides of your waist, thumb running in circles. Gentle handfuls of your flesh, bunching and letting go of the material of your nightgown. Very soon, his mouth leaves yours and instead moves to your jaw, the air in the room letting you feel the wetness that he leaves behind as a passionate trail.

He soon reaches the junction of your jaw and neck, leaving a particularly long suck in the area that has a gasp leaving your mouth. Remaining in that area, you feel the pleasant graze of his tongue on your skin, only making you tilt your head farther out to let him carry out his loving. 

Your mind wanders back to the hands that grope you in ways that would defame you, the unseemly palms that have you needing to feel him all the same.

With grazing hands, you slip your fingers underneath his jacket, pushing it off one shoulder. He understands the message, flicking it off of his frame before loosening his cravat and throwing it somewhere behind him. 

Unlatching from your neck, he comes round to face you to find your face the epitome of disconnected and dazed. 

“Can you wait for me on the bed, my love?”

“But—” The thought of him being even an inch away was most aggravating, but he cuts you off before you can refute. 

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” Soonyoung rests his forehead against your own, taking your hands in his. “I’m right here. I just need to take this awful suit off.”

Your face must have been peculiar because he’s immediately jumping, panicked. “Uh—do you not want me to, we don’t have to, I just thought—”

“No!” you yelp, wide eyed. “I, um, I’ll wait. On the bed, I mean.”

He lets you walk over to the giant four poster bed, pushing the flow of your gown down when you realise how high it had ridden, cheeks burning scarlet at the thought of exposing so much. 

Hearing ruffles from behind you, you cannot bring yourself to look back at him, already extremely lightheaded and afraid that the sight might make you faint altogether. 

Perhaps you were experiencing a delayed case of sea legs, because it’s more difficult than usual to make yourself comfortable on the soft beddings. You make a futile attempt at slowing your breathing. 

By the time Soonyoung is done, meeting you in the middle, you keep your eyes on his face as he’s immediately climbing over to kiss you softly. Hand on the back of your head, he guides you to lay flat, adjacent to the headboard so you’re laying on the breadth of the bed. 

He handles you like you were made of glass, and it only makes the strange ache between your legs increasingly present and uncomfortable. 

Noting a cool feeling on the base of your throat, you open your eyes and catch the leather cord that dangles from his neck, the letter opener charm that’s attached to the end of it connecting you two as your lips part. Just beyond, through the dip of his collarbones and the valley to his chest, you catch the scar  that curls above his heart. Even lower, you find the smaller wrappings of his scarring wound. 

You trace over the edges of the new addition, shaking hands as you try your best to not brush over the wound. 

On the other side, Soonyoung has his hands on shin as his body hovers over you between your legs. Curling around, he caresses the skin of your bare calf, drifting to the back of your knees. He takes the opportunity to lift your leg, urging you to wrap it around his waist. 

The action has gravity doing what it does best, the hem of your nightgown dropping to bunch over the junction of your leg, your entire thigh exposed for the air. 

Soonyoung takes no time to let his hands wander higher, taking light handfuls of the flesh of thighs, dragging his grip further and further up. 

“Nearly tipped the ship over when I saw you in those fucking trousers,” he says, eyes closed as he drags his mouth over the inner part of your thigh. 

The sound that leaves your mouth is breathy, mind preoccupied with how quickly he was making his way towards the apex of your thighs. He’s using his mouth like he used it on your own lips, nipping at the flesh before biting down hard. 

“Soonyoung!” 

Tongue running over the patch, he sucks on the area to sooth the bite. It’s taking everything out of you to not twitch uncontrollably in his hold, the heat in your core reaching temperatures you’ve never experienced. 

Unlatching himself from your thigh, Soonyoung rears his head slightly. The sight has your head rolling back, mind drifting to the face of the man who’d visited you in your dreams, the same man that had now made home between your legs. 

Before you realise it, the bunched hem of your nightgown is flown upwards entirely, fluttering as the fabric lands on your stomach. 

Your heat is bare underneath, evident with the way Soonyoung keeps his eyes on the now fully exposed part of you. Your chest continues to rise and fall as you lift your head to look at him, eyes half closed and mind muddled.

“What…What’re you doing?” 

Soonyoung looks like you’ve disturbed him from a trance, snapping up to look at you as you ask him your question. 

It hardly registers in his mind. What was he doing? Was it not obvious—

Ah. 

If the mere sight of your bare thighs weren’t enough for him to release his load onto the sheets untouched, your unawareness might just end up doing it for him. 

Of course you didn’t know why he was at eye level with your cunt; women from this world were not supposed to know. 

The buzz in his mind renders him useless for a few moments as his vision blurs, the pain in his lower region unbearable. The thought of him being the first person to do this to you, to pleasure you like this; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it till the end of the night alive. 

Screwing his eyes shut, his palms full of your thighs, he drops his head and counts to ten. 

“Will you let me show you how a Queen is meant to be worshipped?” 

Wet mouthed and unhinged eyes, your arousal was doing nothing but multiplying at the sight of him. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks. “I promise I’ll make you feel good.” 

It takes you less than a moment to nod your head, eyes locked with his. 

Bringing a hand closer, he dips one finger into the beginnings of your hole. Bringing some of the glisten onto his fingers. Your lips are parted and he brings a second finger to gather your arousal, rubbing over your entrance ever so slowly. 

The motion makes you let out a heavy exhale, gripping onto the bunched fabric at your stomach till your knuckles turn white. 

With little warning, you feel his fingertips push and drag upwards, right over the sensitive bundle of nerves. Immediately, he’s rubbing your arousal all over the area, rubbing your clit in rhythmic circles with both fingers. 

You can’t stop it when you throw your head back and let out a slight whimper, relishing in the feeling that overtakes every last sense and capability, anticipating the next surge of pleasure that courses through your entire body like you've been struck by a bolt of something.

Vision obscured, you loll your head to the side when you feel his fingers retract, confused. 

All you catch is the outstretched nature of his tongue, and how it lands directly where his fingers were. 

You let out the loudest moan yet, back arching off the bed as he licks a forceful drag up your cunt before moving back down your clit, circling your hole with the tip of his tongue, right before repeating. He flicks your nub right where he’s found you twitch the most, back and forth as your hips begin to fail at your suppressed stutters, his hands needing to pin you down onto the sheets to continue. 

He becomes more generous, laying his tongue flat now as he massages your nub so good. Your thighs are closing around his ears and he does nothing to stop you, nearly suffocating between them. Hips going from their stutters to a grind, you find your hands flying to his hair, grip tighter than you thought you’d come down with. It doesn’t help that he’s now taken a finger to circle your entrance while his lips suck on your clit. 

“Soonyoung.” It’s all you can say, throat incapable of forcing anything but his name, the burn behind your eyes only making it harder to not say it louder. 

When he pushes the finger in, it has you letting out a moan, the foreign feeling against your walls only forcing them to clamp onto his digit. Gradually, you feel his pace quicken as he slides his finger in and out of your hole, his mouth still doing beautiful things to your cunt. 

It doesn’t take long for him to shove in another finger, stretching your hole as you let out a constant string of noises through the pleasure, ever-building as every passing moment only scrambles your brain further. 

And then you feel him groan, a vibration throbbing through your system. 

It’s suddenly all too much, and before you can tell him what’s going on, you’re rendered incapable. You don’t know where your limbs fly, but all you feel is white hot and overwhelming to an unbelievable degree. 

“Oh–ungh—” Your body is telling Soonyoung all he needs to know as he only pushes into your pussy even further, letting you ride out your high as you claw at him in every way possible. 

Inevitably, the feeling subsides and you realise you’ve been reduced to sobs, tears streaking the sides of your face. Laying flat with your head still on the sheets, you stare at the ceiling of your four poster, trying to remember where you were. 

Barely noticing the man that now hover above you, you hear him whisper. “Are you alright?”

Nodding weakly, you don’t even try to lift a finger in the remaining aftermath. 

“I need words, my love.”

Swallowing thickly, you give him a breathy, “Yes.”

The lower half of his face glistens in the light like unorthodox diamonds, and all you can think about is how you need him closer to you. 

You make an attempt with your nightgown, your trembling arms, still coursing with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Soonyoung decides to help, hands pushing your spine into an arch as he pulls the slip up and over your head, now entirely bare in front of him. 

You watch as instead of throwing the fabric away, he brings it to his mouth to wipe the slick off, tainting the gown with your essence. 

Mouth over yours in a salty kiss, you pull him into you as close as humanly possible, needing to feel his heat, his weight, his scent as close as possible. His mouth reaches your throat again, lips brushing over the expanse as he places open mouthed kisses over the nearly faded marks. 

His hands are lingering once again as they ghost the sides of your breasts, thumbs coming close to your nipples before retracting in a caress. He takes them in handfuls as he goes back to busy your lips with his own, massaging the mounds with a pressure just enough to have you reeling. 

Flicking your nipple lightly, he goes back to circle the bud with thumb again. Making himself further familiar, his fingers begin to pinch and pull at them, pressing down to get a noise out of you, one that you sound as you breathe into his mouth. 

Trailing over your stomach, he pushes himself off of you. On his knees, he takes the distance as his chance to look at you in your entirety for the first time. Your fucked out expression and your lack of words is doing nothing but fueling him, your loud breaths somehow more sinful than anything he could ever do to you. 

In one swift motion, he’s slipping his arms beneath you, pulling you up so he can lay you against the headboards and pillows. You barely register what’s happening, having given yourself up to him long before. 

Grabbing one of the millions of cushions on the bed, he swings one over. Using no strength of your own, he lifts your hips and places it down beneath you, effectively propping you up. 

And then he’s meeting you at eye level, hands cupping your face. “I need you to listen to me, darling.”

He waits for confirmation, of which you can only nod, still seeing mild stars. “Do you want to stop?” 

It's a visceral reaction; the violent shaking of your head, the hand that flies to his bicep. “N–no!”

You pause as he grips onto your upper arms tight, right as you continue. “I just—a moment. Don’t stop, please.”

Leaning down, he places a long kiss on the corner of your mouth before moving his head to fit into the crook of your neck. He nuzzles his nose against the skin below your ear. 

“I’m right here,” he whispers. “For as long as you want me.”

His kisses go from desperate to something with a little more intent, pressing his lips into your neck consistently. Oh so gently, it begins to feel like a draught. He turns into calm just as he could become chaos, bringing you down from the after effects of his own actions. 

The hum that leaves you is unthinking, fingers remaining deep in the roots of his hair. Your own nose is pressed against his hair, his scent mixed with sweat infiltrating your nostrils. It fills your head with a pleasant buzz, one that you feel force a pull at the corners of your mouth. 

“I meant it when I said it,” you murmur into his hair. “I don’t want anyone but you.”

Raising his head, he meets your eye, smiling slightly. “I believe you. Forgive me for making you believe I was trying to leave you.”

“You weren’t?” 

He presses his lips into a line, exhaling as he drops his chin to his chest. “I’ve needed to be selfish my whole life just to survive. Leaving…I wasn’t sure how I would’ve gotten on that boat in the morning without taking you with me somehow.”

Moving back to look at you, you realise very quickly there’s more to the mere glassy look in his eye. “For once, I wished to be anything but a pirate, to be anywhere but near the sea. Not when you wouldn’t be there with me.” 

Taking one of his beautifully decorated hands to your mouth, you kiss the soft of his palm. “You’ve done more than anyone ever has to protect me.” 

You laugh against his hand, “This is my turf, captain. Let me protect you… protect us.”

Something injects you with a dose of bold, and you find yourself wrapping your arms around his raised shoulders. “But…I believe we were in the middle of something. I’d hate to ruin the mood.”

The smirk that graces his lips is immediate, pushing you back down onto the sheets as you let a laugh escape you. 

And then you feel something warm graze your bottom lip, pointed in the way it pushes inwards. He’s brought the glinting letter opener charm up to your lips, the trinket pinched between his fingers as he continues to keep it on your mouth. He kisses you deep as the metal remains between you two, your hands run across the expanse of his back, feeling the muscles ripple as he props himself between you. 

“I love you,” he cuts between the kiss to groan, the charm dropping from between your mouths to your chest. 

“I love you, mmh—” His fingers have found your clit mid confession, rubbing quickly as he attempts to get you all hot and withered again. 

Your legs raise on instinct, back arching as he rubs you mercilessly, the pressure building quicker than it had before. 

“I–I think—” you start to tell him, and it seems it’s all he needs to remove his fingers entirely. 

“Soonyoung!” you yelp, landing on the bed with a thud. 

Looking down, you find his hands wrapped around the length between his own legs, and you realise this was your first time seeing it. Past the white-oozing slit, his tip is a painful looking red. If his hands weren’t already pumping and he hadn’t already lined himself up to your hole, you would’ve taken him into your own palms, done exactly with your mouth that he’d done with his own. 

But you can’t find it within yourself to stop him when you feel the initial push of his bulbous tip against your hole, the stretch causing you to drop your mouth open. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse, and when you look up you find his own eyes screwed shut. His hands grip the plush of the pillow beside your head as tight as ever, face askew like he was holding himself back from combusting entirely. 

Slowly, you feel the stretch turn into something akin to a burn, a sting in the back of your eyes. You let him push himself into you at his own pace, the never ending battle between your mind and your refrained hips ever present as you attempt to keep them at bay. 

He keeps his pelvis flush against yours ince he’s sheathed himself inside you entirely. BOth of your pants fill the thick air of the room, the throb of your walls around his shaft leaving a tremble in his forearm despite your forsake. 

Hand somewhere above your head, you feel Soonyoung pull out ever so slightly before pushing back in. Just like this, in shallow thrusts, he pumps himself in an out of your walls in a slow pattern. 

It begins with a simmering tremble of pleasure that prolongs as he drags his cock in and out, and then in and out, and then—

Your eyes fly open when you feel his hips slam against yours with a resounding sound, fingers gripping his arm as he does it again, your moans penetrating the air. Before you know it, he’s hiked your legs up to wrap around his waist, ankles locking as he goes back to snapping his hips into you. 

“Oh, Soonyoung.”

Your nails are digging into his bicep like it was the only thing tying you to this earth, the only thing keeping you from passing out entirely. He’s taken up a brutal pace, pistoning into your clamped walls with a vigour unmatched. 

All Soonyoung can hear is the stretch of your moans and groans directly in his ear, the obscene squelch of both of your fluids mixing at your middles. Your hands have migrated to his back, clawing at the skin like you’ve been utterly possessed. 

He can’t seem to mind, not when they’ll simply become reopening wounds every time he’ll have you like this, all to himself and no one else. He wonders vaguely if your guards outside can hear the way you’re losing yourself in him just as he is in you, wonders if it appalls them that a filthy pirate gets to have their Queen in his arms as her vindictive pleasure. 

One hand rubbing over your slick clit, he pulls back to sit on his heels, the angle allowing him to keep ever part of you occupied, his spare hand coming up to toy with the pillow of your breast. 

It’s all too much, for the both of you as your collective noises become increasingly frequent and high pitched.

And then he’s pushed you over the edge, the shake of your thighs electrifying as you nearly scream out in the bliss of your high. Hands moving every which way to find a grip as you let the feeling crash into you over and over again. 

“Oh, that’s so good, so good, oh my goodness.”

You’re still in the middle of your climax when Soonyoung can’t take it anymore, letting himself release his load inside of you like a mark. It’s a mess of force and pleasure as the both of you lose sight of your strengths and weaknesses, the feeling of his hot cum shooting into your walls only prolonging your orgasm even further. 

He continues to thrust, continues to play with your nub, continues to flick at your nipples despite the orgasm subsiding. It’s all suddenly too much all at once, the sharp jerk of your body and your voice asking him to stop. 

“Soon—Soonyoung, it’s too much.”

Hands coming to a halt and his thrusts slowing, you feel him ease himself out of you. 

It’s a sight Soonyoung doubts he could ever forget even if he tried, your still pulsating walls doing everything but keeping the milky white of his load inside you, globs of the liquid spilling out as you shudder near lifeless on the bed. His hands grope at the inside of your thighs, pulling your lips apart to take in the mess he’s made. 

He can’t help himself when he pushes two fingers into your hole, feeding his cum back into your hole right where it belongs. 

You’ve only barely started to come round when he meets you at eye level, plopping next to you on the bed. 

“Hi,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you breathe back, hands coming up to touch his face. 

He lets you breathe for a few moments as he finds himself getting off the bed to find your tainted nightgown, moving back to you to spread your legs and wipe you clean as best as he could. 

You find it within yourself to allow him to pull you into a sitting position, a cup of water from the nightstand pressing against your tired mouth. 

“Come on, just one,” he urges as you slump against his chest. 

You take a few sips as he coaxes you into drinking the full cup and half of the second helping. 

He gives up as he holds you against his chest, brushing his fingers through your tangled hair to push past your face. 

“Are you alright?” he asks you. Your eyes are closed when he leans down to place a peck on the apple of your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you muffle. “Want to sleep.

“I’d let you, but…”

“Soonyoung, I can’t go again,” you whine. 

He chuckles, “I meant to ask where we could find some sugar around here. You barely ate anything at the ball.”

“The kitchens?” you answer with a floating question mark. 

Soonyoung can’t help it when he squeezes you so tight it has you complaining loudly, not being able to sustain the love just in the tiny expanse of his heart. 

“Come on, let’s get you some cake before both our hearts give out.”

BUNDLED UP IN WARMER clothes, the only thing the palace walls hear is the tiny whispers and giggles of you and your lover as you make your way to the kitchens. 

It’s empty at this time of night, the dying embers of the fireplace the only source of light. Soonyoung uses every last bit of his thievery to manage to find a basket of dough balls, the syrup more readily available at the table in the centre.

The tingling in your brain can’t seem to decipher the overwhelming happiness that floods you from the ends of your hair to the tips of your toes. Especially when you call out his name amidst his shuffling, your heart can’t take the grin on his face as he hurries to join on the floor in front of the fireplace. 

Arm looped through his own and your head on his shoulder, you decide you’d be quite okay dying like this. 

The dough balls are cold and the syrup is probably a little too sweet, but you can’t possibly complain when it warms you just the same. 

“I’ve despised my name my entire life,” Soonyoung starts in the silence, picking at the insides of his treat. “Some old merchant sailor was giving his ship away in exchange that the taker would take care of it. He’d built his Tigress from the first board to the last sail, but the years had made their mark. It was practically falling apart when I took it off his hands.”

He pushes the remaining bit of the pastry into his mouth, muffled as he continues, “He had a strange name, said it was given to him by his crew when they realised he was born without a name. Hoshi. I liked it well enough so I kept it.”

“Soonyoung—”

“That one. I wanted to replace the name I loathed, the one my own mother gave me.” You watch as his throat bobs as he swallows. “Ash is my birthplace, my mother worked in the brothels where I was born only because she couldn’t get rid of me.”

Taking one of the hands that wrap around his arm, he brings your fingers to your mouth, kissing the tips of each one. “I despised that name, until I heard it from your lips.” 

“Soonyoung.” It felt right on your tongue, like you were destined to say his name. 

“Yes, my love?” He smiles softly. 

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” he says as he kisses you again. “Thank you for keeping my name, thank you for giving it life.”

You take the opportunity to grab one of the syrup soaked dough balls from the basket and stuff them into his mouth. “Enough, don’t tell me all this luxury’s made you soft.” 

It was a jab but a lighthearted one in any case, you loved to see this side of him and you doubt you would ever get enough of seeing him like this. Vulnerable with his softer smiles and squinted eyes. 

Bringing one of your digits to your mouth, you suck the remaining syrup off your fingers. 

Soonyoung is quick to take notice as he takes your hand and brings your fingers up to his mouth, running his tongue over the pads of your fingers to take in the remaining sugar left on your fingers. 

He keeps his eyes locked onto yours as he sucks on the tips of your fingers, making sure every last hint of sweetness is gone. 

And then he’s kissing you, tongue in your mouth as he moves against your lips slowly. 

Breaking apart, you whisper, “As much as I’d love to, the bakers will be coming in any minute now.”

Soonyoung’s grin is dangerous, and you find out why the minute you feel his arms loop around your waist and under your thighs, lifting you clean off the floor of the kitchens. 

You squeal before you can help it, his lips finding home in your neck as you laugh as loud as your chest would allow. 

You could get used to this. And you will. 

THE SERVANTS CARRYING THE giant stack of plates nearly topple over when you sprint past them, yelling a loud apology over your shoulder as you do nothing but hasten your pace. 

The paper in your hands is clutched tight in your fists as you run to where your carriage awaits, near yelling at the driver to make it to the docks before the streets would be full of the early morning merchants and bakers, slowing the gallops of the decorated horses. 

The town is waking as your carriage races past, the beginnings of the new day making itself known as the sun peers through the gaps of the houses. You’re incapable of sitting still, your heels tapping against the floors of your cabin incessantly as the docks grow nearer and nearer. 

And then you see it, the rush of dock handlers that see the royal carriage slow to a stop in front of the boardwalk. You slam the door open before any of the tens could do it for you, breaking into a sprint as you find the distinct flag of the royal crest wave high on the other end of the docks. 

You had already seen Soonyoung off in the dark of the night as he made his way to the ship that was near ready to depart as you slide to stop in front of the anchored ship. 

There was nothing sane about what you were doing, the chortles and shocked noises of sailors and merchants deaf to ears as you finally spot him near the prow. 

His eyes meet yours and he has to do a double take. 

Panting and needing to hold onto your knees for support, you peer up as you watch him run towards the ramp that leads down to the docks to see you, to ask why you were here when he’d kissed you goodbye mere hours ago. 

By the time he meets you at the wobbly boardwalk, you’ve somewhat recovered.

“Are you alright?” he asks you as soon as you’re within earshot, hands grasping onto your upper arms in evident concern. 

“I had to tell you, this came in right after you left.” You brandish the paper clutched into your fist, smoothing it over as the light catches the red stamp at the bottom. 

It takes him less than a minute to realise what it said, eyes blinking rapidly and mouth gaping like a fish. “They…They said yes?” 

“They said yes,” you repeat, nodding furiously as you break into a smile. “We can get married, Soonyoung, they said yes.”

His arms are crushing you before you know it, wrapped around you so tight as he buries his face into your neck, repeating it like a mantra, “They said yes…”

By the time you part, he keeps his arms around you, still embracing you in front of the entire port. You take hold of his face bringing it closer to you. 

“Three months, and then you come home,” you breathe. “And I get to marry you, in front of everyone.”

Soonyoung lets his lips meet your own in a chaste kiss as he corrects you, “I get to marry you in front of everyone.” 

There’s a thud of something nearby, and you look up to find the crew of the Tigress hanging over the railings of the newly appointed naval ship that looked suspiciously like a pirate’s. 

“He can’t come back home, if he doesn’t leave!” Seungkwan yells over cupped hands. 

You’d like to send him an affectionate gesture involving your middle finger, but choose to save him in front of the crowded port. 

“You’ll miss me, Seungkwan, just you wait,” you send him a pointed glare that he simply scoffs at. 

He might miss you, but you’ll definitely miss the lot of them when you return to a significantly emptier palace. 

“Don’t let the royal snobs walk over you, you’re a better sailor anyway,” you tell Soonyoung. “Not that I needed to tell you, anyway.”

“I promise on our future wedding to be a complete menace.” He grins at the declaration as you admire him in the morning light. 

One last time, you memorise the dips and hills of his features, pressing your final kiss into his lips as the voices telling him to hurry it up grow louder. 

He blows you a kiss from the railings as the anchor is hoisted, and you send him one right back. 

As your carriage trudges its path back to the palace, at a pace more acceptable for both the stamina of the horses and the integrity of the structure, your eyes remain glued to the shrinking ship that fades into the distant horizon. 

There’s a pang in your chest, one that brings a tear to your eyes. It’s all very dramatic, the way the melancholy makes a home in your heart. An inkling tells you how you’ll probably become quite used to the feeling, learn to greet it like a friend. 

For now you enter the lighter palace, and take your place on the chair in your study and find solace in the ideas your mind brings. 

That no matter how long Soonyoung will remain far from you, he will always come back home to you. 

Always. 

[AN]: ty for joining my babies on their journey, i cannot thank you all enough for reading all 48fuckingK words of this i love you guys truly!!! thank you for all the reblogs and comments on the other parts, it makes me genuinely so happy to see you guys enjoy this universe that i've built. I read every single comment and know i appreciate all of it so so much <3

[cosmerelists]

Superpowers That Other Cosmere Fans Seem To Have (That I Do Not)

Inspired by this post, which is also #1 below. :D Basically, this is a post about amazing powers that I've noticed OTHER Cosmere fans seem to have, which I definitely & absolutely do not possess.

1. A Powerful Lack of Secondhand Embarrassment

I start with @lerelene's superpower, which is that they don't get secondhand embarrassment from the "And for MY boon" scene. That is VERY powerful indeed. I can barely reread that scene, and my brain is hiding behind a very large fan the whole time.

2. Recognizing Worldhoppers

I feel like some fans are reading along, when suddenly a character who is "kind of short, really" or who uses some slightly odd idiom is mentioned, and they say, "Ah HA! I see you, Worldhopper!" That could not be me. Unless the Worldhopper is, like, a major character in another book or is explicitly named, I've never recognized one in my life.

3. Understanding the Physics of Investiture

I'm not even sure physics is the right term? But, like, I know that there are underlying principles governing investiture and how it manifests cosmere-wide and I, uh, do not understand much of anything about that. I'm picking up on the fact that investiture turns black and oily (?) when it's wonky, but that's all I got.

4. Asking Sanderson Amazing Questions at Cons

Closely related is the superpower that some fans seem to have of coming up with really wild questions about the inner workings of investiture: like what happens if Nightblood drinks the Dor or how Hemalurgy can steal a Bond or....stuff. Interesting stuff that makes Sanderson hand out a RAFO card or just give a delightedly nerdy answer. I dream sometimes of asking one of those questions but frankly, I wouldn't even know where to begin.

5. Reading Everything Sanderson

I consider myself a pretty serious Sanderson fan, but I haven't even finished the Cosmere! Just missing White Sand, which I feel like isn't super uncommon, but still. There are people who've read all of the Cosmere AND the non-Cosmere books and probably Wheel of Time too. I think that is incredibly impressive. I will probably never do it all.

6. Keeping up with the WOBs

I'm actually not sure if this is a superpower that few have or just something that everyone else is doing that I don't, but....I can't keep up-to-date with all of the Words of Brandon. I don't watch the videos really and I've never been to a con. Every now and then people say things on the internet about, like, a Worldhopper Ball or MLM Renarin Day or something and I gradually pick stuff up. But I am definitely not on top of any of that.

7. Keeping the Timeline Straight

People who can even keep the in-book timelines straight impress me, but even more impressive are people who can keep the Cosmere-wide timeline straight. If you gave me two Cosmere series and asked me which is earlier chronologically, I'd probably shout "OH MY GOD IT'S HOID" and run for it.

So...what's YOUR Cosmere Superpower?

[chocolatetittymilk]

“I’m in love with you!” Series

Alhaitham x reader Summary — Alhaitham has never been one for social interactions - in fact, neither of you knew each other in the first place. His pride never allowed anyone to befriend him fully. Until you decide to confess your love to him bluntly one morning, ultimately changing his perspective about you. TW : angst-comfort, unrequited love, strangers to enemies to lovers, smut, aged-up characters word count : 2.8k

pt. 5 - "I'm sorry."

pt. one | pt. two | pt. three | pt. four

"I'm sorry."

The abrupt confession silences the air around the both of you. You under Alhaitham and all his glory, and glory being him shirtless --rippled abs and muscular forearms. The gem of his glowing, almost asking you to stay. And my, did it take all of you, mind and body, to have said what you did.

"I'm sorry but I just can't-" you say again, making it loud and clear that whatever you were about to do with him, you just can't. And it's not like you didn't want him. Oh, to the Gods, you did. All the fooling around you've done with him has been fun, but it had been nagging at you.

Alhaitham, on the other hand, looked confused - inwardly. On the outside, he seemed as cool as can be, just a raise of an eyebrow of interest.

"Oh? Why's that." He said plainly, getting ready to get off of you and perhaps put his shirt back on. "Did I do something to upset you?"

The whole thing had given you a headache already. You wonder why you let it get this far. Why you let your emotions and lust get ahead of who you actually are. A rational and successful adult who needs to think like one.

Not a horny college student.

You sigh deeply as you sit up, biting your lip slightly while he gets his shirt on; almost wishing you hadn't ruined the moment.

"We shouldn't have done any of... this." Motioning with your hand the both of you. Alhaitham raised his eyebrow once again at you, crossing his arms almost defensively.

"And what do you mean by... 'this'." Bored. That was his tone.

The question took you back a bit. '"this"? Did he mean...'

"Do you not think we have a thing going on?" You questioned quickly, knowing you should've thought it through. But you couldn't help it. The thought itched your head in a place you couldn't get out. Because if he didn't think you two have something - anything - then why was he doing all this?

Alhaitham sighed deeply, almost as if he was getting annoyed. Almost like it was obvious what his answer was and you were playing stupid. "Why would that be the case? Did I explicitly say that?" He questioned, and it was a valid question. An obvious answer. You two hadn't put labels on anything. Nothing whatsoever.

It was almost like a dumbbell dropped on your gut, a deeply wretched feeling stirred in you. 'oh.'

"Right. How silly of me." You looked down at the floor for a second to give yourself time to think. "How silly of me since, well, we've been doing quite a bit more than just what we usually have done." Anger flashed brightly like an alert sign in your head. As if to tell you to stop now, that this wasn't worth it.

"Like maybe the kissing, we've done a lot of that." You start, standing up, running your fingers through your hair anxiously. Your voice getting more prominent. Loud.

"Or, or maybe it was the under-skirt activities- if you remember those, of course."

"Listen-" Alhaitham started, but no. You weren't even letting him have a single second. It wasn't fair in your eyes.

"No, no you listen. You have been treating me as if I was something more. Like I mattered." Heaving you get closer to him. A fire in your eyes.

"Helping me when I'm sick, watching me with other men, pinning me up, kissing me, touching me." Closer to his face your lips begin to tremble. As if you've finally lost it; the fire watered out.

"And, here I was. Giving in because I thought the Stoic Sumeru Scholar wasn't half as bad as they've said. That the whispers and claims of heartlessness were just a facade." Tears slip just a second before you quickly wipe them. You could've sworn you saw the downturn of his lips, but all that was there was a stilled face Alhaitham.

"Hm? Is it?" Questioning him with a hope shining just under the surface. Because you had realized you were in love with the stupid scholar.

Silence hung in the air as Alhaitham stares down at your heart-opened form. Eyes darting from both of your eyes as if searching for the truth; if you are the truth.

He opens his lips, then suddenly furrowing his brows. Debating. Asking. Hesitating.

"...I have nothing to say." Alhaitham says lowly, eyes shifting to another place. Avoiding.

You scoff as if his ignorance was almost blissful to himself.

"Yeah?" You mock a bit, raising your hands to his face for his eyes to look at you. You wanted him to be truthful, and honest. Like the scholar always seeks out in his job and studies. "Then look at me and tell me that it didn't mean anything to you. That it was all lust to you, that I didn't mean something to you, Alhaitham."

You stare into his teal eyes, almost like they're brimming with adoration. Until they're not.

"It didn't mean anything to me." Blunt, to the point. But he couldn't stop.

"It was all lust," He takes your hands off his face abruptly. His face was clearly agitated.

"You, out of all people," He gets closer to you, causing you to back up quickly.

"Piss me off to no end. Cause you can never just enjoy things. There always has to be a deeper meaning." He scoffs and picks up his jacket. "When maybe all people want is some attention for a night." He walks out the door, slamming it.

And maybe that should've been the end.

Vacations were supposed to be relaxing, soul-seeking, and well, full of fun. From sightseeing to drinking and food enjoying to activities brimming. Everything everyone came for. Except what's a little vacation without some good old friendship fighting?

That's exactly what Kaveh noticed when Alhaitham and you sat widely apart from each other during dinner. Cautious glances, no conversations. Except from everyone but the two of you.

It was a nice little place as well, popular enough to know the food, drinks, and services were good but also not popular enough for it to be too expensive or crowded. Angel's Share was the name.

There was Alhaitham, still the tight-lipped and nonchalant type. But this time, it was like there was a bit of shame hanging from his shoulders. I mean he was actually drinking this time, and he hardly ever does that. Plus his usual small talk was even smaller tonight.

Then there was you, hammered already and dinner only started 45 minutes ago. Not even paying attention to when Candance or Dehya was trying to put water in your line of view. And speaking nonsense any time they asked what the fuck was going on with you.

It didn't take a genius to put one and two together.

"I'm pretty sure they got into a fight." Tighnari said lowly to Kaveh. Tighnari had been fighting for his life next to you, trying to be as kind and patient with you as possible, but it was slowly but surely slipping.

"No shit, I'd be surprised if the both of them weren't hooking up already." Cyno suddenly blurts out, already over how the two of you were acting. Kaveh coughs up his drink a bit, catching him off guard. Dehya snickers at the conversation from the side as Layla was mumbling Alhaitham's ears off from the side.

You suddenly put your head on Tighnari's shoulders, humming slightly. "Are you always this warm because you're like a fox thing?" You ask, genuinely interested in his species. Kaveh laughed a little at the question. Tighnari on the other hand heated up more from the close proximity.

That was the start of the two of you discussing his species and how he came to Sumeru. It was a genuine conversation, even with you very drunk and slumped on his shoulder. Then the Bartender came around again, and oh boy did you have something to say.

"Sir, sir what's your name?" you suddenly lifted yourself up from Tighnari's shoulder, blinking at the redhead.

"Diluc, would you guys like some water?" he asked, trying to be polite as he sightly laughed at your form.

"Yes please, thank you sir." Kaveh said quickly.

"Oh! Could I also have something else!" You quickly said, leaning in towards the redhead. Alhaitham quickly glanced and narrowed his eyes at your actions. 'What the hell is this idiot doing this time? Can she be any more of a drunk?'

Diluc bent down to where you sat, amusement set in his eyes, "And what would you like young lady?"

"Your number, actually." You smirked, clearly trying to seem flirtatious but very much failing. Cyno actually laughed and tried to cover it with a cough, while Dehya shot him a look. Candace shaking her head and Tighnari almost looking... disappointed?

Alhaitham, well... He looked baffled. Almost hurt, as if he hadn't been a total dick to you a few hours ago.

Diluc on the other hand went a shade red as he clears his throat. "How about I go get you some water and I'll answer that after you drink a few glasses." He blushes a little before leaving to get the water.

You close your eyes and smile, crossing your arms on the table and laying your head in them. "He's so pretty.." you mumble, thinking about the stoic bartender. Candace's eyes soften at your little moment, while Dehya laughs at how oblivious you are.

Oblivious to how drunk you are, clearly going to puke any moment from how much alcohol you've consumed. Oblivious to Tighnari, who looked like a wounded puppy. Oblivious to what all Kaveh knew about Alhaitham and you. Obvilvious to what all of you knew at this point about the two of you.

And especially oblivious to how Alhaitham looked like he wanted to strangle the redhead for even entertaining your ideas.

After a few glasses of water and a sober attitude, it was time to head back to the hotel you were all staying at. Needless to say, it had been an eventful dinner and night. Perhaps even an eventful day.

Hours have passed by with laughter and banter, the night was coming to an end. But at last, the night was young, and so were you.

"I'll catch up with you guys, I got to handle something here real quick." You said outside of Angel Shares, clearly sober enough to get home.

"Are you sure? We can wait for you if you want?" Candace asks hesitantly. Dehya smirks a little at you.

"We don't mind, I promise." Cyno says.

"Well.... maybe I could nap on the bench over there..." Layla says slowly and tiredly, clearly just about to doze off where she's standing. Alhaitham helps her stand in place, hand on her shoulders.

Your eyes twitch a little watching. "Yeah it's fine, you guys can go. Mondstat is one of the safest places. I'll send a text if I need anything." You smile at them, trying to come off as sober as ever. "Now go, you guys look tired."

Each of them said their goodbyes (except the little shithead Alhaitham) and left.

While you went back in.

You go straight to the counter, sitting down and slightly leaning in. Looking at the redhead's back as he busies himself. You take a breath of courage before talking.

"Hey, Diluc was it?" Heart beating loudly. You were never this nervous with Alhaitham, nor any other guy you liked. But then again, they didn't just see you goofy drunk with your friends.

He had turned around, leaning towards you a bit. "Yeah, it is, and yours?" Diluc comes off as friendly, cheeky, and a bit hesitant. You liked it and told him your name. Your name rolling off his tongue sounded like a friendly bee buzzing around you. You liked it, again.

"I just wanted to say sorry about earlier, usually I don't drink that much... I guess I was just having a rough day." You smiled a bit embarrassed at the confession. But it was true, you weren't normally like this. After Alhaitham had basically admitted to just playing with you for months, you couldn't help but take the edge off a bit.

And maybe that wasn't a bad idea.

Diluc laughs a little at your apology, "No need to be sorry, I see it a lot here. Besides, I found it cute when you asked for my number." He leaned in closer, a cheeky smile on his face, "Very bold."

Heat rushes to your face at his words. "Yeah, I hope you know I don't go asking any cute bartender for their numbers when I'm drunk... If that helps with anything." you laughed a bit, biting your lip. Enticing him, inviting him. Diluc chuckles a bit, looking at your lips. Intrigued by your teasing.

"It helps with a lot actually, since I was about to give you my number. If you still want it, that is." He gets out his business card, his personal number already written in cursive on it. Your heart jumps a little.

You think about Alhaitham for a second. How much you wanted him yet he gave barely any indication he wanted you. Not in a lustful way but in an intimate way...

That's when you grabbed the card and stood up. Smiling up at the handsome redhead. "Of course, just because I'm sober doesn't make you any less pretty."

Diluc blushes a bit as you lean over the counter, getting closer. "And I wouldn't mind seeing more of you." You whisper as you give him a kiss on the corner of his mouth, lipstick marking his red hot face.

You turn around and walk towards the door, "Wait, let me walk you home." He touches where you kissed him, a bit dazed getting his jacket to leave.

He walks you towards your hotel, talking the whole way. About where you are from, your goals, and your aspirations. Studies, friends, and family. And it felt nice. Nice to know someone actually wanted to know every detail about you. To feel wanted, and cared about. Even if it was only just for tonight, and Diluc could forget about you the next day.

But maybe it was worth it, just for a night.

"Really? You have any siblings?"

The air suddenly gets thin.

"It's, uh, complicated you could say." You said, rubbing your arms as a way to comfort yourself. It wasn't bad nor good, a common middle ground of too complicated but not complicated enough to complain. Ah yes, the luxury of family.

"Yeah? I get that. More than you think actually." Diluc looks at the ground, hands in his pockets. A tinge of bitterness in his voice.

"I think that no matter what happens with one's own family, you can always make a better one in life." You smile slightly, holding his arm. "Whether it be friends or whoever you share the rest of your life with... There's always something you can make better."

Maybe you were just blabbering on at this point, but it was almost like Diluc had fallen in love on the spot. He took his hand out of his pocket and suddenly held your hand tightly. "Thank you."

You smile and squeeze his hand. Looking at his smile and swinging interlocked hands. Knowing everything will be fine, for both of you.

Finally, at your hotel, he walks you to your room. Standing in front of it, ready to say goodbye. Even if the warm feeling in your chest wouldn't go away even after this trip, it would all be worth it in your eyes.

"Thank you for walking me home... It was sweet and nice. Better than other companies."

Diluc chucked a little while still holding your hand, "No need to thank me, it was the least I could do for making your friends leave without you." You smile up at his dark red eyes. He was sweet, thoughtful, and a little stoic at times but still sweet.

You liked that.

"I'll be here for another week or two so we should definitely hang out more." You offer, almost asking him out. Key word, almost.

"Yeah, I'd like that a lot... Thank you for the conversation, also. I haven't had one like that in years." He leaned in, licking his lips a little.

"Me too, actually." You whispered getting close to him.

You wanted to kiss him. No, you want to kiss him. He's sweet, charming, and understanding. You want to kiss him and be around him and possibly even sleep with him. Maybe you're getting ahead of yourself, but you most definitely want to kiss him. Until you heard the annoying voice of an asshole.

"Hope I'm not interrupting something."

'This stupid fucking oaf.'

pt. six here | "I'm in love with you!" Series M!list

notes : hello Hunnies, I've come bearing gifts! I honestly don't know whether or not to let Diluc or Alhaitham have you, cause Alhaitha's such a dick in this, unfortunately. Let me know if I should redeem him or not honestly. Thank you all for the support, truly, love you all lots <3 remember to just dm or comment to be part of the tag list!

tag list :

@sn1perz @cheezzyshhh @cuppy20 @thatanimewriter @kittywagun @ichorstainedskin @tigerpriestess @k1xn4a @aphxdea @marchsfreakshow @monamourbladie-mb @monamourbladie @mumeimei @dainsleif-when-playable @boomie-123 @whiskey-19 @annoyingprofessorroadmaker-blog @rlcno @yuunarei @dreamlessnight @kyon-cherri @r-1-mas

[baldval]

Can you do a Vox x reader where we comfort Vox after Valentino broke his screen?

please and thank you!

TO BE HUNTED!₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox x gn!reader (stablished relationship)

warnings: implied violence from valentino (not mentioned explicitly)

wc: 608

a/n: tried to make this short and sweet, also i don't know how to fix screens??? i just talked about it as if it was average human skin.

"sit down." your tone is crisp, an order, not a request.

you walk not towards him but to the freezer as you speak, and when you turn around, there is a bag of frozen peas in your hand.

"i'm okay," he tells you, but he can't stop the hiss of pain that emerges when you press the bag of peas - gently, and wrapped in a paper towel - against the left side of his screen.

there's a slight sting too, enough to make him think that the glass might be broken.

"sure you are." your voice is dry and when he chances a glance up at you, you're actually rolling her eyes. "that's why you're going to have a black eye the size of Jupiter in the morning." you lift the bag a little, pursing your lips at what you see: a huge line going from his right eye towards the left part of his mouth. "i have some paper stitches upstairs in my med bag; you might need them."

when you press the bag back down, there's another sting. his screen was definitely broken. he's expecting the pain this time so he keeps the hiss back. his hand is warm against yours when you take him by the wrist.

it's not romantic , you're just checking his pulse, however, you can't help but feel certain butterflies in your stomach as you feel the contact of his skin against your fingers.

"where else?"

it's on the tip of his tongue to tell you that he's absolutely fine but the look that you give him has him rethinking that notion.

"ribs," he admits. "left side. i'm pretty sure they're only bruised…"

"let me be the judge of that." you kneel down beside him, fingers making short work of the buttons of his shirt, lips pursing again when you see the livid red marks shaped like someone's boot.

your hands run across the marks, probing and pressing and it's hard for vox not to squirm because not only are your hands cold but also because usually when your hands are moving across his skin like this, it's very much not in a medical capacity. which is something that his body doesn't seem to recognise, even if he is in pain.

as you straighten up, you look back into his eyes, a relieved look on your face. "nothing broken," you confirm. "but I wouldn't be doing anything strenuous if I was you."

he can't help himself. he reaches out his free hand, cupping your cheek. "aw… shame."

he's not actually being serious, but amusement flickers across your face. "you cannot possibly be turned on by this scenario." you tease.

vox drops the bag of peas on the kitchen table, pulling you onto his lap. you go easily, looping your arms around his neck.

"i think you seriously need to reconsider the effect that you have on me at all times," he tells you, bringing his lips towards you for a kiss.

it doesn't last as long as he would like, his own hiss of pain being the main cause of that, and your reaction is half resigned, half 'i told you so'

"so, doctor," he asks as you drop your forehead against his, "what's the prescription?"

"bed rest." your reply is prompt as your hands slide towards his, threading your fingers through his and pulling him up.

"lots of lots of bed rest…" there's a twinkle in your eyes that he's very familiar with and loves to see. "while i see what it takes to kiss you better."

vox thinks that the answer to that particular question is 'not much'.

[multifandomlover01]

Baby Fever

Spencer Reid x Female!Reader (use of the word girlfriend; AFAB is heavily implied bc I based it on myself, sorry)

Established Relationship

WC: 1k

Warnings: talks of pregnancy and child rearing and anxiety surrounding it (not explicit but there’s like one tiny suggestive comment) (pregnancy and parenthood is viewed as something both characters want so if you don’t believe that…just pretend or don’t read?) (also this discussion is happening between two people who are in a committed relationship but are not (as of yet) married but it is not explicitly stated that marriage will come before the children or that it will not)

Summary: Reader sees how Spencer is with Henry and realizes she really wants a kid with him

Key: Y/F/N = Your First Name

Eps: 4x6, 4x7

Spencer was looking back at JJ. She was pregnant and eagerly anticipating the birth of her child. Spencer realized that he had been in a relationship with his girlfriend longer than the father of the child (Will) had been in a relationship with JJ. He wondered about his future with me.

“You considering it?”

Emily’s voice snapped him back to reality and he turned to face her.

“Considering what?” He asked for clarification although he was already fairly certain he knew what she meant.

“Having baby geniuses one day….presumably with Y/F/N…”

Spencer was just briefly considering it just then, yes, but upon being asked about it point blank like that, his brain short circuited. Luckily he was saved from answering when the phone rang.

“Hello?” He asked and he knew that his nervousness could be heard in his voice.

You had stayed with Spencer in Las Vegas along with Rossi and Morgan and you’d all gotten back in time to see Henry. JJ, Spencer and you remained in the room. Spencer was asked to be Henry’s godfather and the instant demeanor change when he held his godson gave you whiplash. He was so pure and precious with Henry. Emily had asked you the same question after her interesting interaction with Spencer. And you told her that you’d love to have children with Spencer but that you were concerned about pregnancy and child rearing. She told you that Spencer would be with you every step of the way and that you shouldn’t let your anxiety make you feel like you wouldn’t be a good mother, which gave you some peace about it.

You had to excuse yourself from the room quickly as a wave of emotions hit you as you watched Spencer with Henry. JJ and Spencer immediately became concerned with your behavior. Spencer handed Henry back to JJ and quickly left the room after you.

The others went back into the room and Spencer caught up with you halfway down the hall (damn his long legs). He gently reached out to touch your elbow.

“Y/F/N, hey, wait.” He said so softly that you had to stop and turn to face him to be met with the sweetest face of concern. “Are you ok?”

After what this man had just been through with his family, he was asking you if you were ok.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” You manage a small smile. You really were ok but you just didn’t know how to bring up your feelings to Spencer.

“Was I…too friendly with JJ?” He averted his gaze to the ground briefly.

Your heart broke. Spencer thought that that was the issue? You had been a bit…jealous of JJ in the past and of their friendship…but you were past that now.

“N-no…it’s not that…”

“Then what is it? Please tell me.” He was looking at you with those damn puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t refuse.

“It’s…kind of…hard to…um…” you trailed off. Should you be blunt or ease into it? You thought.

“Take your time.” Spencer smiled at you sweetly as he placed his hand that was at your elbow on your upper arm.

“How you were with Henry in there…it…sparked something in me…god, that’s a bad word for it…” you chuckle and shake you head.

“Sparked something?” He asked curiously.

“I uh I don’t really know how to explain it…” you became somewhat embarrassed, averting your gaze now from him to the floor.

“Y/F/N…look at me, please.” Spencer said in a tone that compelled you to and you were met with a slight smirk.

“Did you catch baby fever from JJ?”

Your face tinged pink.

“Maybe…I dunno…” you muttered as you averted your gaze to the floor again.

“It’s ok if you did.”

Your eyes snapped back to him, a more genuine smile now having replaced the smirk.

“What?” You asked, confused. You didn’t think Spencer wanted kids. You’d never talked about it before but you were now.

“Did…Emily happen to ask you anything?”

You nodded. “Yeah. She did.”

“And…what did you say?”

“That I had considered it…but that I was a bit scared of pregnancy and child rearing but she reminded me that you’d be with me every step of the way and that my anxiety does not mean I won’t be a good mother.”

His smile widened.

“You’d be a great mother.”

“Really? You think so?”

He took your hands in his, bringing them up to his lips to kiss.

“I know so.”

“So do you um…”

“Emily asked me earlier if I was considering it and I never answered her…I think the prospect was just too overwhelming for me to even think about in the moment but now that I’ve had some time to think…I think I’d like that…”

“How have you had time to think with all that’s been happening with you?”

“Well…I dunno, I’ve just…I know it’s not the best example but I’ve seen what people will do for their children, their loved ones and what people won’t do and…I know that I love you and I know that I want a life with you and…I think I might want that life with you to include children.” Spencer says, vocalizing it for the first time and feeling even more sure about it now that he has said it out loud and realizes it truly is what he wants. “Plus…with JJ having been pregnant…I can’t say the thought of you like that hadn’t crossed my mind at least once or twice.”

“Oh? Like PG thoughts or…MA?”

“Definitely both…” Spencer’s cheeks tinged pink.

“Well…if that’s something you want…I think that’s something I want too.” You say and like Spencer, you are more sure of it as you vocalize it to him.

“Really? You’re sure? I don’t want to make you feel pressured or anything, you’re the one who is going to be carrying the child, after all.”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

He wraps his arms around your waist and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“I love you so much.” He whispers in your ear.

“I love you too.”

“So, what do you want, hon?”

“What?”

“Do you want to have a boy or girl?”

“Oh um…a girl, I guess…”

“Perfect. I’m so gonna spoil her. She’s gonna be such a Daddy’s Girl. Do you just want one or do you want more?”

“Oh I don’t think I’d be able to handle more than two…three would be pushing it.”

“Two or three beautiful Reid children it is, then. What about names?”

“Spencer…we don’t have to figure this all out today.”

“You’re right.” He pulled away from nuzzling your neck to kiss your forehead. “I’m sorry. I just got excited.”

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

"It's my birthday and I'll write what I want to \o/"

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: cisfem Character: Roronoa Zoro & Kaku Vibe: Writer's Choice (NSFW consensual) AU: Monster AU Prompt: Only One Bed Gift Giver: @zoros-sheath

Summary: You'd wanted two rooms for your trip with your were-beast lovers, instead you didn't even get two beds.

Content Notes: double penetration, knotting, little prep, established relationship, cream pie, gods give credit to this bed where it's due.

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, we can all fit.” Kaku says as he and Zoro carry the luggage up to the hotel room. “Even with two beds, someone was going to be doubling up.”

“Two rooms, Kaku.” You correct, sighing a little as you reach the last room left at the hotel. There’d been a booking error and your glorious plan to leave Kaku and Zoro snoring in their own room was completely ruined.

Not that you didn’t love and appreciate your monsters dearly, but you’d wanted a little space during this trip. Not much. Just a little.

“Ah, sorry then, filly.” He kisses the top of your head. “We’ll do our best.”

“Humph.” Zoro grunts as you open the door for the two of them.

“Oh no.” You hear Kaku before you get into the room, but you have a feeling you already know the problem.

“Not two beds, huh?” You can’t help the groan.

“Ah… well, we’ll make it work.” He says, setting the suitcase down and stepping back so you can see.

A single. The only bed in the room was a single. Not a double, not a queen, and certainly not a king. At this point you were almost relieved to see it on a frame.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You let out a breath, trying not to lose your temper over something you couldn’t do anything about at this point. “Does the couch have a pullout?”

Zoro lifts the cushions on the small love seat in the room and shakes his head. It was, at least, a place someone could sleep, but at this rate someone was going to be on the floor.

“I suppose we can roshambo for it.” You offer, poking your head into the attached bathroom. Of all the things this room didn’t have, somehow it had a whirlpool tub. “Though at this point, throwing the bedding in the bathtub might actually be enough room for all of us.”

“We can fit.” Zoro asserts and you look at him like he’s grown a second head. Monster that he and Kaku were, that wasn’t one of the things they did as far as you knew.

“Can you turn into a small cat?” You question and Kaku laughs, effectively answering your question.

His brows furrow and you know you’ve irritated him at least a little. “No.” He says curtly.

“Well, then I don’t see-.” You start, but Zoro disrobes and pulls the covers aside. By himself he filled most of the bed. If he slept on his side, Kaku could probably join him, the giraffe being slender and almost lanky by comparison.

Kaku pulls your sun dress off in an easy motion, causing you to yelp a little in surprise. Long fingers move against your body and his fingers are already against your clit before you can even ask him what he’s doing. A sweet moan is the only sound that passes your lips and you hold onto his arm to steady yourself.

Pressing soft kisses in the crook of your neck, he slips your panties down with his free hand, and you can feel two sets of eyes on you, devouring every shiver. Despite the near constant bickering between the two shifters, they worked remarkably well when it came to you.

Cool gel presses into your ass, giving Kaku’s finger access easily. You’ve long since stopped trying to figure out how they managed such tricks. Zoro’s gaze grabs yours and you see his tongue slip across his lips as Kaku works you into a frenzy with his fingers.

“Please,” you gasp, legs trembling. You couldn’t keep your feet much longer and you weren’t even sure what it was they were going to prove by doing this. “I’m gonna - haaa, more, please, I want more.”

“Want?” Zoro prompts, raising a brow.

Your body throbs at the tone of that single word and you press against Kaku’s hand. “Need, need!” You cry, as Kaku pulls his fingers out of you. “I need more, please.”

Zoro motions, and Kaku helps you, lifting you up and straddling you over the feline were-beast’s cock. He was already hard, red at the tip, precum glistening as it twitched, knot already thick and swollen at the base. Zoro helps steady you, holding onto your hands and helping you stay upright as you settled onto his shaft.

The sweet stretch, the dull ache that left you desperate to have his knot buried inside you, was a relief you didn’t know you needed. A striped tail, soft fur tickling against your skin, pushes your bra up, leaving the lace at your collarbone as your breasts were laid bare. The fur against your skin is warm, and a little ticklish.

You settle against the knot and Zoro leans you forward as you feel Kaku get on the bed with the two of you.

“We’re - the bed… the noise.” Your voice is shaking, dripping with need even before the tapered tip of Kaku’s cock pushes against your tight, well lubricated ass.

“No one will hear us, little sheath.” Zoro promises.

Kaku’s hands are on your shoulder, and Zoro helps him angle you until the giraffe is deep in your ass, his own knot pressing against you. They’re already grinning at the shivering twitches ravaging your body. You swear they delight in the anticipation more than the orgasms.

Kaku’s hands slip down your arms, gripping them just above your elbow and holding you off Zoro’s chest at and angle that was good for both of them. Zoro’s hands grip your tits, teasing your nipples between his fingers, hunger scrawled on his face. He twists them a little and when you cry out his tail pushes into your mouth.

It wasn’t the first time he’s gagged you this way, but it was always a surprise. Any concerns you had about the furry tail were pushed out of your mind as Kaku and Zoro begin to move inside you, pistoning in and out in perfect time with one another. Leaving you little room to do anything else but drown in the pleasure.

Zoro’s cock tickled your g-spot as Kaku pulled out, and Kaku hit some sweet spot in your ass as Zoro made room for him. Your moans are well-muffled, body shaking and curling in the grip of the two beasts who had laid claim to you. Ravenous and sweet, and insistent that it was you who had them in the palm of your hand.

As your body warmed and your vision went hazy, Zoro pulled his tail from your mouth, letting the rough, dribbling gasps of pleasure drip from your chin.

“Already too far gone, huh?” He grins and you can’t even argue.

“More,” you huff, body covered in sweat. “Please.”

“As though we would ever deny you, little filly.” Kaku responds, voice heavier than usual. You can feel his tongue against your back, licking against the shimmer of your skin and sending electricity through your muscles.

“Focus,” Zoro warns as they begin to pick up speed. “Breathe.” He commands as they race you to your high.

Tears prick your eyes as you practically pant from the assault. You can’t help squirming in their grasp, but nothing you can do is going to let you get away from the growing pleasure. Nothing you do will allow you to move enough to accidentally hurt yourself either.

It’s not just the impending orgasm, making your heart pound in your chest like the bass at a rave, it’s the knowledge that they’re going to fill you beyond anything anyone else could. Being knotted at the same time was intense, and you’d passed out the first time they did it, but nothing else could compare.

It was addicting. They were addicting. Addicting like air. Like water. Things you couldn’t live without. Core pieces of your very existence and life.

Something almost beyond love.

Their grips shift. Zoro holds your shoulders, and Kaku covers your mouth. The knots push into your body, the overwhelming stretch hurling you over the peak and driving the pleasure of orgasm into your bones. Your breath freezes in your lungs, and your body goes taut as steel. Your eyes roll back and you can feel thick, hot sperm fills your insides as the sensations stutter every response you have.

Soft fur brushes your nipples and you scream into Kaku’s hands, the gentle caress being enough to shatter the freeze in your overloaded body. His hands move enough you can gulp in big gasps of air, sobbing moans falling from your lips with each exhale, and shaky whimpers escorting air back into your lungs.

“There’s a good girl,” Zoro praises you. “Breathe.”

“How well you always take us,” Kaku adds, hugging your back to his chest as he and Zoro roll their hips and squeeze a few more soft babbling sounds of pleasure from your lips.

Holding onto Kaku’s arms, you regain enough of your senses to form the few important words you realize were missing from the start of the conversation. “Sleep,” you say in a shaky voice. “I meant room enough… to sleep.”

You can feel them both flinch.

“Oh.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

of course

***Spoilers for the Stitch summer event below the cut!***

Of coooourse Azul and Floyd jump on the opportunity to extort their classmates while they’re stranded on a deserted island 😭 Such an Ursula moment when Azul asks the group what they’re willing to do to be rescued… 😭 Not Floyd suggesting they all be Octa’s errand boys until the end of time 😭 AnD NOT hIM CALLiNG AzUL NICE FOR LOWERInG iT TO “just” A WEEk???? 😭 Why are fish like this—

This is even funnier when you look back at Birthday Union/Jacket vignettes, where some characters are asked “If you could bring one person with you on a deserted island, who would you choose?”. Of the 6 characters featured in Lost in the Book with Stitch, Jack is the only one who was asked this question. He at first says he can survive on his own, and though he eventually provides Epel as his answer. BUT YOU KNOW WHAT??? Jack also states in the interview that he would not want to be stuck with anyone in Octavinelle because “they seem like the types to ask for compensation whenever they have to do something” 🤡 Which. Isn’t far from the reality they’re now experiencing…

Addendum: In Jack’s Labwear vignettes, Floyd asks Azul if they can “keep him”, as though Jack were a stray dog. Again, Floyd’s affinity for dogs reappears in the Stitch event, where he doesn’t want to hand Stitch over to Gantu.

Other related points from Union Birthday/Birthday Jacket vignettes (the other 5 were asked “if you could pick any student from NRC to be your sibling, who would you choose?”): Ace would pick Azul to essentially get free stuff I bet he’s regretting his decision right about now, eh, Floyd would pick Ace so Ace can take the fall for him in sticky situations why do I suddenly have a bad feeling for what’s to come, and Lilia would pick… FLOYD 😂 because Floyd is mischievous, challenges people, and keeps surprising him with unexpected things… Oh, don’t worry, I’m sure plenty of “unexpected things” are going to happen, whether the boys like it or not 💦

On a more serious note, I do find it interesting that we get formal confirmation that merpeople in human forms need to remove their clothes before returning to their true forms. (This was always assumed before, but was never explicitly brought up in scenes where they actually had to revert back, such as book 4, Vargas Camp, and the first Halloween event.) However, Azul and Floyd say that the Beachwear clothes must be magic because they can’t be removed. I’m assuming either it’s unsafe to revert while still wearing clothes or the magical clothes just prevent them from bursting out of it a la Vanessa to Ursula in The Little Mermaid:

It’s also implied that their human forms are not suited for swimming long distances (or at least they are not used to swimming long distances in human forms yet)?? Which makes me think their anatomy and physiology must become entirely human when they drink their usual transformation potion??? Like, I’m assuming there aren’t gills on their human forms (because they’d serve zero purpose) which could hinder swimming as a human. (For that one scene in book 3 where Azul joins the group at the Atlantica Museum, I always assumed he just drank one of those “breathing underwater” potions he gave out earlier in the book!)

Side note: thanks to this event for gatekeeping us from potentially getting a peak at Azul’s non-OB octomer form/j 🙄

[rjalker]

I haven't watched Gravity Falls but I really do wish Bill Cipher wasn't an Equilateral Triangle. That has clearly held back some people's understanding of Flatland and what it has to say about systems of inequality.

Editing on August 26 2024 to add the larger reblog here:

#Would love to hear an explanation.

Here you go:

Bill Cipher from Gravity Falls –

(aka this dude)

[ID: A screenshot of Bill Cipher from the show Gravity Falls, floating in the air in front of grey trees. Bill is an Equilateral triangle with a single large eye in the middle of his body, a brick-like pattern on his lower side, a tophat, bowtie, and simple black legs and arms. He has his legs out in front of him as though sitting, with one hand on his hip and the other pointing at something offscreen. End ID.]

–was at some point revealed to have come from a world like Flatland, in an in-character Questions and Answer session, when asked about his home dimension, he said something along the lines of “Edwin Abbott has the right idea”.

This led to a bunch of people looking up Flatland, and looking at it through a gaze influenced by their love of Bill Cipher and whatever else Gravity Falls has to say about him / his backstory / his home dimension. (IDK, I haven’t watched it)

This becomes a problem when people who like Bill and sympathize with him for his (apparently?) tragic backstory then fail to understand what Flatland has to say about society.

In Flatland, different shapes represent different social classes.

Equilateral Triangles are the explicit Middle Class. Which means Bill Cipher, before he left his home dimension, was part of the Middle Class.

The book is very explicit about the fact that the only reason the Middle Class exists is to keep the lower classes in line, by being an unobtainable promise of “reward” if they just work hard enough and don’t cause problems.

The lower classes, who *quite literally do not have a single human right*, are told that if they just keep working hard and be the best workers they can be, then maybe some day they’ll get lucky and their *kids* could be born Equilateral and get to have a better life and get basic human rights. Which I cannot stress enough the lower classes do not have.

The middle class, aka Equilaterals, explicitly only exist to prevent the lower classes from violently revolting against the rich, by giving them a hope to cling to that if they just keep working their kids might have a better future.

But people who are only reading Flatland *because* they like Bill Cipher and already sympathize with him, don’t want to see him as part of a privileged class at all, so they ignore what the book actually has to say about the middle class, and insist that Bill Cipher is actually extremely oppressed and isn’t privileged in any way, because he’s not a billionaire, so that’s the same thing as not having any rights at all.

Which is just completely untrue, for both reality, and the society we see in Flatland.

There is a huge, huge, huge difference in the quality of life between someone in the middle class, and someone in the lower classes. Especially in Flatland, where things are taken to the extreme to illustrate why they’re bad in real life.

But because people don’t want to think badly of their favorite character, they don’t want to understand the ways he was privileged and oppressed others while living in Flatland, so they throw out all understanding of classism and instead just go with the idea that “anyone who’s not a billionaire is all equally poor”, when that’s just not true, and actively erases the struggles of people who are not privileged enough to be in the middle class, and never will be.

in summary:

Bill Cipher being an Equilateral Triangle unintentionally impedes a lot of people’s understanding of class struggles between poor people and the middle class, because they already sympathize with him and don’t want to see him as having a privileged position in society that actively oppresses those under him.

So they instead pretend there’s absolutely no difference between someone who owns multiple homes and goes on multiple paid vacations a year and has full health insurance versus someone who can’t even afford to rent a 1 bedroom appartment.

Because if you compare them both to billionaires, they’re both poor in comparison, so these people want to pretend that means that they’re both equally poor, and the middle class aren’t actually privileged at all and shouldn��t be held accountable, so that they don’t have to think critically about their favorite character and his privileged and oppressive position in a classist society.

Editing August 26 2024 to add a link to a post with many ways to read / listen to Flatland in many formats and styles all for free.

[outrunningthedark]

regarding ryan clearly stating multiple times that eddie is heterosexual, do you know if that has ever happened before? was he ever this unambiguous? and what about oliver? has he ever talked about buck's sexuality in definite terms? i know he agreed with the view that buck is bisexual but i wonder if he ever said in an interview or somewhere that buck is heterosexual.

This question got me going on a deep dive (and having fun). SO. With the caveat that I ofc have not uncovered every EARLY interview in print, the short answer is: No. But I brought context! Oliver, interestingly, (from what I can find) did not have to deal with much Buddie speculation from journalists in season two and even early season three during the tsunami arc. Here's a TVInsider article about Buck, Actually that calls Buddie a bromance. Oliver says something we heard when he was doing promo in March - supporting Buddie means people care about the characters and the show, so was happy know the fans are so invested in the story. Here are three articles about the tsunami arc that focus on the Buck and Christopher dynamic instead of Buddie. Here's an article previewing the the second half of season 3 in which Buck and Christoper are once again mentioned, and Oliver gave this response that I have NEVER seen mentioned (👀): "I'm just waiting for Buck to be called [Christopher's] godfather." I did find ONE TVInsider interview for the 3B premiere where Oliver said Buddie was a "friendship, bromance, whatever you want to call it" BUT also allowed for the possibility of it being romantic in the future after discussing the Buddie edits he and Ryan find on social media. (He was definitely not looking at his character as fully hetero just from edits/clips because that RS article we've all decided to ignore said season four was when Tim first brought it to Oliver as a possibility.) As for Ryan. Like I said, I can't find anything atm where he *explicitly* refers to his character as straight or heterosexual, but his answers have never offered room for SERIOUS speculation. Interview with Anthem Magazine from spring 2019 in which Ryan first (? I think) brought up two men having emotional ties to each other being a "taboo quality". (And we can see his mind hasn't changed, understandably.) Here's another with TheWrap on Eddie Begins where he says Buck's reaction to thinking he lost Eddie would be the same for anyone who thought they lost a brother. Bonus: This is also the interview where he mentions having assumed Lena was going to be set up as LI and was surprised it didn't happen. Ryan was asked about the Buck/Abby reunion to close season 3, calls Buck Eddie's "wingman". Just for comparison. I'm also gonna include a link to a Hello Mag interview (with the well-known Buddie shipper) where she REALLY took advantage of the Buckley-Diaz story line after the shooting. (And where I *personally* think Buddie started getting out of hand with the media because of the online reaction. If people on instagram and twitter and tumblr didn't know what Buddie was before, they definitely did after 4x14.) I'm still keeping my eyes peeled, so if I spot anything else to add that I think would be of interest, I will be sure to do that. :)

[plscallmeeren]

O H , H A R R Y

Hermione Jean Granger x Luna Lovegood x Reader

Request: yes

Summary: you have been friends with the trio since first year and you've always been enthralled by Hermione and Luna, but only now in sixth year (for legal reasons everyone's an adult) are confessions made...... btw it's potions class and Harry has a crush on you (potions facts r all correct)

Warnings: Swearing; nipple play; magic strap-on/fake p; fisting; finger f; face f; power dynamics; bondage; top!reader; biting; anatomy ig; dirty talk of all kinds; threesome; anal; semi-public sex; porn with hardly any plot; out of character Hermione; damn idk stuff

Word Count: 3.6K+

You stared miserably at your cauldron in lieu of Snape's arrival. Luna sat next to you, doodling something in a notebook, completely unaware of your thoughts entangling with her.

In front of you, Harry and Ron were placed side by side, whispering about something. Hermione sat a way off, poring over her potions book as if she needed preparation for the lesson. Your heart nestled into your stomach mockingly as Ron looked her way adoringly.

What were you thinking? How could you be into two girls? Wasn't one bad enough? And what on Earth possessed you to think you had a chance?

But you had to tell them. At some point. For your own sake. So that you could move on. At least Luna, because Hermione would be harder to escape if things went south, considering you were in the same group of friends.

Your gaze wandered helplessly toward the Ravenclaw girl, searching her profile for something that might comfort you. Whatever that meant, you found it, because the sheer sight of her brought some joy to you - every single time.

Eventually Snape strode in, dramatic as always, impatiently beginning his lesson void of introduction, as if he weren't the one who had come too late.

"Valerian - recognising it. How tall-"

"One to two meters, sir," Hermione cut in enthusiastically, recoiling at the look he sent her in return.

"And are the blossoms or the leaves edible?" he continued, ignoring her. Apparently his gaze lingered on Luna for too long, however, because she answered easily: "Both. The leaves are harvested between May and June, the blossoms between June and July."

"That's not what I asked," he snarled, "and I don't recall calling on you, could that be, Miss Lovegood?" She held his stare better than anyone.

"Right. (Y/l/n), is the root dried before the common tincture is derived from its essence?" Snape sounded smug. Usually that was bad.

"No, it's not. And the tincture is said to be repellent of cruel spirits and similar." For a second you felt smug yourself. Then you remembered it was still bad.

"Also not my question. Now; who can tell me what real potion Valerian roots are essentially to-"

Hermione's hand was raised. Snape stared at her, looking almost surprised that she should suddenly be present and also have the nerve to remind him of this. She withered under his scrutiny, finally choosing to answer as he wasn't moving: "Draught of the living death, sir. I think, sir."

"I don't think I like your attitude, Miss Granger. Or yours, for that matter," he added meaningfully, glaring at you and Luna in turn. "Detention. All three of you. You'll be cleaning up the doubtless mess that will arise this lesson due to the jumping beans. No leaving after class."

You wished you could protest with the fact that you had a lesson the next period, but you didn't have one, just this once, and by the looks of it, neither did your friends. Harry and Ron looked at you pitifully.

This is the time. This is the day, a surprisingly loud voice inside you said. You gulped. Maybe it was. 

The lesson dragged as fitful bursts of imagination illustrated to you exactly which ways you could be explicitly shunned and exiled, while others portrayed perfect scenarios of reciprocation that partly led to some crazy classroom threesome. You felt almost guilty for thinking about them that way, but you were the last one encouraging these thoughts after all.

Finally, not that you had noticed, the two hours of anticipation faded away with the distant coaster of students packing their things. Snape loomed over Hermione, supposedly giving instructions. She winced at something he said and you were overcome with a strange sort of second-hand rage. Not the kind that made you move out your blood boil, but the kind that twisted some vital organ you couldn't place, deep down inside your gut.

He left, cape swooshing, and there you were.

You. Hermione. Luna.

You all looked at each other for a moment before Hermione began relaying Snape's tricks for catching the beans. They sounded awfully implausible. You all suspected they were only supposed to mistake it harder, but quiet prevailed as you got to work.

It was awkward silence. And you had no idea why.

This was not as usual. The three of you were quite close, or at least you were with both of them, and there was never any tension unless Luna brought up an unusual creature and stubbornly disallowed anyone from changing the subject.

Eventually you couldn't stand it any longer. "I have something to tell you. Both of you. To get off my chest."

They looked at you expectantly, abandoning the hopeless search for bouncing legumes.

"What is it?" Hermione, oh clever Hermione, with wit and smarts and pride.

"Yes?" Luna, lovely Luna, with daydreams and understanding and interest.

"I don't expect you to react to this," you continued uneasily, watching them exchange an unreadable look. "I really don't. I don't want it to change. Us. Anything. But it's not getting better, so this is the only way I can think of."

You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes for a second to regain your composure. "I like you. Both of you. And I know that's weird. I know we're friends and I shouldn't but I really do. It's only become more with time, so... I don't know what else to do but tell you and..."

Hermione beamed. Luna laughed. Your brow furrowed.

"Oh, but that's wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed, flinging herself at you so that you had to half catch her, not letting you finish.

"Wait- What do you mean, that's wonderful?" You asked, confused.

Luna smiled. "(Y/n), you can't imagine how wonderful this is," she started, approaching the part of the room where Hermione leaned against your frame. "Recently I admitted to Hermione that I felt for you also, and at first she was disturbed, because she had the same feelings, but then we realized that if you hypothetically felt back, there was no reason we couldn't share you. Or, more likely, that whoever you liked should have total allowance to act on their wishes."

You stared at her. This was a dream, right? Sure, Luna could be direct, but still...

You pinched your arm, simultaneously ecstatic and disturbed when it hurt. You looked at them both in turn again, Hermione pulling away a little from her impractical position. "So... the three of us? Together?"

"Yes."

"If you can handle both."

"Right." You clicked your tongue, eyes involuntarily roaming Hermione's body as she stood so close to you. "I don't know what to say now."

"What were you going to say?" Luna asked slyly, siding up to you as well.

"Well... I'm always thinking of you. In the library, when we study together," you lock eyes with Hermione, "and when we hang out. You're just never absent from my mind."

Hermione giggled, and your brows rose when you realized what she was thinking. Luna smiled coyly also, making you smirk. "Not really what I meant, but sure."

"Don't you think we should celebrate? Instead of moderately awkward sexual tension, I mean," Luna asked, keeping an entirely straight face.

"Oh, yes," Hermione agreed, grinning, lighting up as if she had just arrived at a spectacular idea. "I think I'll just pick up that bean."

She paced about two steps before leaning over slowly in a way that would never be suitable for catching something, showing off the perfect silhouette of her ass and legs. "Oops," she murmured when it jumped away.

You bit your lip, turning to Luna instead. Your hand found the nape of her neck where your fingers could reach the roots of her hair, your other securing her waist as you leaned in, kissing her slowly.

It was better than you had imagined it. More natural, more believable. It felt like melting into her. Your heart sunk between your legs.

Hermione, looking almost jealous, swung her hips as she walked, wrapping an arm around your waist and the other through your hair as if to drag you away.

You pulled back, eyeing her playfully before moving the hand that had resided on Luna's hip to the other girl's side, slowly finding your way to cup her ass. She gasped.

You couldn't believe this was happening. Each arm around a beautiful girl.

"You can do her first," the Ravenclaw whispered. "I don't mind watching."

"I wouldn't want to keep you out of the fun," you smiled wickedly. "Why don't you sit on that desk there, love?"

She obeyed easily, leaving a panting Hermione before you to focus on. "Sweet girl... why don't you cast a silencing and locking charm, will you?"

She nodded frantically, quickly pulling out her wand to do just that. Before she could, however, your mouth was on her neck, inducing a moan - more surprised than anything.

"S-Silencio," she stuttered, chest rising and falling fast as you slid the robe off her shoulders onto the floor.

You kissed her on the mouth then, her wand arm faltering as you muffled her groans, pulling off her jumper and top in one. Her wand clattered on the ground.

Next came her skirt and tights, ripped off her without a second thought, leaving her in black lacy underwear. You grinned. "Luna, honey, I'll need you to undress, too."

She nodded from the desk, immediately setting to work. You looked back at Hermione as she stared up at you, practically awaiting judgement. "Pretty girl," you cooed, "if only I had known you'd been hiding this under all those clothes." She blushed. Blue and purple spots were already taking form on her neck.

You cupped her breasts carefully, massaging them with the palms of your hands until you could see her hardened nipples through the fabric. You unclasped the lingerie, diving down to her cleavage, sucking and biting and eliciting guttural moans and whimpers from her. A distant whining came from the direction of the desk also.

"P-Please, mommy, I want more-"

"Mommy, huh? Interesting," you interrupted her. "And what exactly would that entail?"

She only whined, resulting in a shrewd pinch of her left nipple. "I- I, uh... down there..."

"Use your big girl words, darling."

"I- I want you to f-fuck me."

"That's more like it," you purred. "But you'll have to wait a moment."

Turning to Luna, you raised your wand, catching her off guard as charmed ropes snaked around her wrists and ankles, finally grasping the table legs with considerable force. She panted in anticipation.

"Bet you're wondering where I learned that trick," you cooed, but didn't elaborate as you led Hermione with a hand on the small of her back towards Luna, gently applying pressure to her shoulders until she caught on, sliding to her knees before her friend's bare cunt with wide eyes.

"I'm gonna need you to eat her out, kitten. Can you do that for mommy?" You tilted your head mockingly.

"I, I've never done that before," she stuttered, "but I'll try..." Her mouth collided with Luna's pussy, ass naturally drifting upwards as she elicited soft moans from the blonde, who writhed against her magical bindings with a flawlessly arched spine.

You rounded on Luna, licking your lips at the sight of her plush breasts and perked nipples. You touched her right with the tip of your wand experimentally, relishing her passionate gasps as its cold effect startled her. You continued for about a minute, maybe more, playing with irregular hot and cold touches all over her cleavage.

She was moaning and whining more and more, hips bucking up into Hermione's face more often than not.

You returned to Hermione, standing behind her calmly before running a finger up one thigh, then the other. She groaned into Luna, causing a chain reaction. The same finger roamed around her pussy, poking at her lips once or twice before venturing up to her ass, circling her other hole. She whined as you pushed into her carefully, curling and uncurling a few times before retracting again, leaving her pussy heaving, longing. "Such a good girl."

"Please," she whimpered, muffled by the Ravenclaw's folds. You wanted to tease her, but couldn't find it in you to delay.

"You're so wet for me, it's adorable." Two of your fingers rubbed sidelong up her cunt, slowly edging deeper and deeper until you were inside her, searching for her g-spot, finding it, pounding against it so that she had to come away from Luna to breathe, whine, moan. The sinful sounds were so high they sounded fake, but the movements of her needy hips proved otherwise.

"Quiet, now, kitten," you mocked, only thrusting into her harder as Luna groaned from afar. "Or do you need more?"

She nodded quickly, but you weren't going to let her get away so easily.

"I need to hear you say it. C'mon, use that pretty voice of yours."

"I need more," she whimpered, hardly able to catch a breath long enough to speak. You grinned, groaning a guttural 'good girl' that sent Hermione over the edge. Her juices flowed freely over your fingers, but you didn't stop, merely slowing down a second before adding another finger, then another, so that the majority of your hand thrust in and out of her with every frantic intake of breath.

"You ready?" you purred, smiling as she nodded. The remaining thumb glided into her, your entire fist now hitting all the right places in her cunt.

"Oh, Merlyn, please-"

She slumped forwards into Luna's pussy, sending vibrations through the blonde girl. With one guttural moan, clenching around nothing, she came again, writhing in her bindings as Hermione's face remained attached to her slick, almost sliding away at any given time, swaying back and forth with every push of your joined digits.

You could feel her gripping your hand harder and harder, threatening to spill, to arrive-

You drew your fist out, eliciting a pathetic whine from the Gryffindor. "Good girl," you said softly, presenting your hand to her face, which she eagerly licked clean of her own juices. "I'm gonna need you to..." You leaned in close, whispering in her ear so that Luna could only strain to hear you. Hermione nodded eagerly, still breathing hard.

You held up your wand, closing your eyes in concentration to remember some of the charms your cousin (oh, the irony) had showed you a while ago. Finally, pointing down, you muttered the words, watching as an unfamiliar bulge formed in your pants. You pulled the trousers down, letting it spring up, ignoring the girls as you set to work again, finally managing to have the wand vibrate heavily in your hand.

When you turned back around, Hermione was obeying your first ask, tickling Luna all over her body as her already aroused cunt pulsated and clenched, her nipples going stiff. She jerked and spasmed on the very desk she had just before contemplated potions class.

You handed the brunette your buzzing wand, letting her place it on the Ravenclaw's clit. She shuddered, struggling to hold still. Your fingers ran over her middle, tracing the outline of her beautiful face and the roots of her silver hair. Thumbs gliding to the corners of her mouth where her head hung over the edge, gently prompting her to open up, meaningfully catching her eye. An endless string of whines and moans poured from her now that her lips were parted.

Slowly, she took your fake dick, gagging on it in a way that brought immense pleasure to you through this unreal sequence of nerves. Luna started sliding up and down it with those voluptuous lips, and before you knew it, it was you who was pushing down her throat again and again, the blonde giddy with stimulation and slight lack of air.

"You can come now, honey. Come from mommy fucking your face like the sweet girl you are," you said sweetly, and then she was gasping, her face better than any pornographic scenery, and then Hermione was whimpering at the sheer jealousy of another's orgasm, and you were so impossibly turned on that you couldn't stop yourself. Your own orgasm exploded in Luna's mouth, some leaking out onto her face as you pulled away, sorry you hadn't asked, but she looked so ecstatic you could have come again.

The angelic image; Luna, wise Luna, white flecks dripping down her cleavage and face, swallowing the same as she licked her perfect lips. Hair a mess, spread-eagle on the table where she would have to sit and learn the next day, mildly cross-eyed, pussy and breasts on full, parted display, a blunt portrait of pleasure.

You took the wand from Hermione, Luna sagging at the loss of stimulation. A simple flick and those gentle but stubborn ropes snaked back into the air, vanishing as their deed was done. "Why don't you get dressed, love? We'll go to my dorm and get comfortable," you suggested, but your grin was too curious to be innocent.

She reached for her wand on the neighboring desk among her discarded clothes, but you interrupted her actions. "Don't clean up here. Put your clothes on over it all." She glanced down at her dripping wet thighs, soaked pussy, thought of the cum on her face and cleavage - then smiled just as wickedly.

Your lips crashed against hers before she could proceed, however, removing her more obvious decor as they travelled to her chin, her cheeks, cleaning her up in a way so inherently harmless she laughed. You had always loved her laugh. "Go ahead."

You held out a hand to Hermione, who was resting on the stone floor, helping her up and sitting down on the next table before Luna. She intuitively sat down on your lap, groaning as she slipped onto your cock. She sat there, 'adjusting', as you both watched Luna get dressed.

"See her legs? All wet under her stockings, even as she'll walk through the castle. Think how many other people will see her like that, unaware of all the dirty things my girls have been up to," you murmur in her ear, earning a groan of frustration. She lifted herself up as if to fuck herself on your lap, but you pushed her back down again. "Don't tell me you still haven't had enough of being fucked, sweet girl? You still want more?"

She whimpered, bucking her hips against you as you rested your head on her shoulder carefully, kissing the side of her neck. Luna pulled up her skirt, awkwardly setting bra over wet skin.

"What would other students say, knowing you're so needy? That you and Luna both have drenched cunts and wanna be fucked? Have been fucked?"

Apparently movement wasn't necessary, because that was the moment Hermione squirted for the first time in her life.

"Good girl," you whispered one more time, one last shudder of approval, before lifting her off of you and charming away your helpful illusion.

She started getting dressed over her post-sex anatomy, managing to clasp on a bra and stockings. You were just buttoning up your trousers when the door creaked open. Hermione yelped, scurrying behind you automatically, Luna standing sagely, now fully dressed.

Harry and Ron stood paralyzed by the wooden door, staring. The former looked livid.

"How dare you? I thought you were my friends!" he yelled, glaring at Hermione and Luna in turn, noting the slick around the Gryffindor's face as well. "(Y/n) was mine! You knew I liked her, didn't you? How could you take her from me?"

"Oh, Harry," you sighed, effectively inaudible over his ongoing accusations and claims.

"Please, Harry," you said louder, making him stop, "I didn't realize. I'm sorry for hurting you. But I was never yours, or only as a friend. I'm sorry. But I can be with who I want, and that's nothing to take up with Hermione or Luna, either."

He was practically quivering with... what? Rage? Sadness? Frustration? Envy?

"Well, I think it's great, y'know," Ron intervened awkwardly. "The whole... being-with-you-want-thing. Real good. You should all be happy, is what I'm saying, I suppose. Although I do find that hard to say in the dungeons, but y'know. 'Is what it is."

He wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders, turning him around slowly. "C'mon, mate. Uh, he's sorry and all, I think is fair to say. Just outta sorts, is all."

Harry seemed unable to withstand his friend's kind tug, dragging his feet over the dark stone in the opposite direction.

Hermione emerged from behind you, hand clapped over her mouth. "I can't believe I forgot to do a locking spell."

"Maybe you've forgotten, but that wasn't entirely your fault."

"Anyway," Luna interrupted as the Gryffindor appeared to be searching her memory, "let's hope nothing will go out of its way to stand between us anymore. Not even our friends."

"We won't let them either way," Hermione added, smiling brightly.

"Good to know." You grinned. This detention was certainly worth it.

[amber-laughs]

Hii!

I was thinking here and had nobody to share, so what do you think Jon's relationship with his siblings, or rather, cousins ahaha, will be like after they reunite? Do you have any headcanons? Arya and Jon? Click right away as before or nah? Bran and Jon? Jon and Sansa? Jon and Rickon (at some point)?

Sorry for the ask, I'm just like bored :)

Please come to me with all your bored questions I love answering them! I wanna start off by saying I don't think Jon will be as devoid of emotion as some people theorize he will be. We have two cases of resurrection but they are very different scenarios than Jon's. First Catelyn to Lady Stoneheart: Cat went mad before she was killed, her mind was already heavily altered in her final moments then her spirit was seemingly sifting about aimlessly until Beric brought her back. Beric has been resurrected six times and he says it take a toll on him every time and theres less of himself each time, meaning his memory was nowhere near as bad the first time it happened. But most importantly neither of these characters are wargs like Jon is. Jon's spirit will be in Ghost who is spiritually and mentally linked to him which I think will be a saving grace. I don't mean to say Jon will have no change but he most certainly will not be a walking zombie, he will still be able to have heartfelt connections with the people around him in my opinion. So:

Arya and Jon: I think that Arya will hear about Jon's death before she gets back to Westeros and it will absolutely devastate her which will make their reunion all the more touching. Jon thought she was dead until ADWD and I assume will think she's dead again if he learns about the Jeyne Pool switch so I think their reunion will be one of relief. I've made a post about this before but Arya thinks she knows who Jon's mother is right now, Edric Dayne told her it was Wylla the Wetnurse and she explicitly says she can't wait to tell Jon. I think this will go one of two ways: Jon will finally be at peace to know the truth and then BOOM! he finds out the The Truth or he'll know about Rhaegar and Lyanna before hand and have to decide if he's going to lie to Arya and the rest of his siblings. I think the R+L=J situation will create a bit of a rift between them because it will feel like a severed bond but I imagine they'll heal that by the end.

Sansa and Jon: I think Littlefinger is going to massively get in the way of this dynamic. Littlefinger wants Sansa to have the North. Jon is Robb's named heir which throws a wrench in those plans. Not only that but George has said Littlefinger gets confused when it comes to Sansa, sometimes she's his daughter with Cat he never had and sometimes she is Catelyn. Grrm called Sansa Petyr's teenage fantasy that's come back and when you have mini Ned Stark walking around the halls that will cause problems on top of the fact that LF will definitely be sniffing around trying to find out who Jon's mother is. He'll try to cause as many problems as possible for them I think. That being said I think Jon and Sansa are a now more alike than ever not only has Sansa experienced being a bastard but Jon has experienced his first love and having that torn away from him. Jon went North essentially wanting to be a great knight and finding out Castle Black is not what he heard in the songs and stories just like Sansa when she went South. I think LF will be their main issue along with some tension over Sansa feeling like Robb sidelined her for Jon and I'm not exactly sure how or where it'll end up but I'm excited (I do not under any circumstances believe that they'll be romantically involved)

Jon and Bran: I know this is gonna sound weird because Bran is only 9 but I see their relationship becoming a little co-worker like. Bran will know all about the Others by the time they meet up and Jon and him will spend a good chunk of time trading information I think. On top of that I think Bran will end up becoming something of a warging teacher to Jon the way Jojen was to him. I don't think I believe that Bran will be the one to reveal R+L=J to him, I think that'll be left to Howland.

Jon and Rickon: Personally I see Rickon dying before he reunites with Jon. If that doesn't happen I'll be curious to know if Rickon remembers him. There's a section in the Cushings Draft of Feast for Crows where Ghost can sense Rickon and Shaggydog in Skagos I know it was deleted so that sort of nullifies it but we know Summer senses the other wolves and like I said with Jon's memories staying safe in Ghost I wonder if the direwolves' connections will have an effect on Rickon being able to remember his siblings despite his age. I personally think that he will remember them if he lives because narratively I don't really see a reason for him to not, I mean I know logically he was 3 when Jon left but he's only 5 now its not much of a stretch.

But to give an overall base answer yes, I think all of them will click right away with love, relief and familiarity but that the problems above will come down the line and can't be swept under the rug

[pinkeoni]

So I lost the original draft, but I got an anon asking me what I thought rainbows represented in ST. My answer looked a little like this:

I put off answering this question because this is actually a rather tough question that I didn’t have a quick answer to and did have to do some thinking on.

I feel like it’s easy to say “Gay,” and yes this is part of it, but this answer might actually be reductive and innacurate to what is actually happening in the show.

I think when considering period-accurate clothing, you have to consider the context of that time period. Rainbows being on clothes in the 1980’s is a little different then say, rainbows on clothes in the 2020’s.

It is true that the rainbow pride flag did exist in the 80’s, and rainbow pride gear did exist, however this was pre-rainbow capitalism and before we had the overabundance of rainbow merchandising. Rainbows were a symbol of pride in the 80s, but it also existed well outside of that. Now, it’s almost impossible to find clothing with rainbows on it that isn’t associated with pride. (Or even if it’s not the manufacturer’s intention, that correlation will still be made.)

On the left is a bts photo of Robin Buckley, and on the right is Mindy Meeks from Scream VI. Both of these characters are lesbians, and both include clues in their costuming that point toward their sexualities. Robin has rainbow shapes and triangles on her shirt, while Mindy wear’s a shirt that says “Lavender Menace” on it and has a rainbow pride flag patch sewn onto her jacket.

Considering the personalities and context of these two characters is important when deciding their costumes. Robin is a closeted lesbian, living in a conservative small town in the 1980’s. Any indications towards her queerness are going to have to made incredibly subtly. Rainbow pride gear did exist in the 80’s, but it wouldn’t make sense for Robin to be wearing that openly.

Mindy, on the other hand, is out and proud and living in 2020’s NYC, so her wearing more overt pride gear makes sense for her character and the time that her character lives in. The rainbow patch serves as a reminder to the audience of her sexuality. When Mindy was first introduced Scream V, her sexuality was not explicitly stated, but the costume department instead gave her a rainbow pin as visual shorthand to communicate her identity.

So, with all that in mind, rainbows on clothes of a character in ST—

—may not in itself be indicative of their sexuality.

But then again, this is a show created in the modern day for the modern audience who would have that association with gay pride, so it shouldn’t be ruled out.

I don’t think that Lucas having rainbows on his shirt means that he’s queer, but then when we have this—

A rainbow being squarely placed behind Will, a character we know to be gay, who in a later season did a whole project on Alan Turing, the gay inventor of computers, it would be ignorant of me to say that rainbows in the show had no correlation with gay pride.

So then, I tried to approach the meaning of rainbows from a more broad sense. Maybe the meaning behind rainbows is something that could encapsulate gay pride while speaking to a larger meaning. So I decided to simplify it, and go back to rainbows in nature.

When do rainbows appear? After the rain.

Let’s go back to Lucas’ rainbow shirt that I pointed out before. Lucas wears this when he realizes that he’s in way over his head with his basketball crew and he returns to his friends. Lucas is getting out of the rainstorm and back into the light. He’s seeing the rainbow.

We can also apply this to his relationship with other characters, especially Max. Max has been in the dark for so long, but thanks to her friends, thanks to Lucas, she’s able to see some of that light again. Lucas is like her personal rainbow.

Max also wears rainbows in season 3 to the same affect, except here I believe she is meant to be El’s rainbow. El has been kept in the dark but Max is the one that shows her the light.

I think rainbows can also be misleading, though.

The Rainbow Room was the reward that Papa gave the kids for doing well in their lessons. “Whoever wins will win an extra hour in the rainbow room.” It was supposed to be their light after the dark, but really it was another symbol of their entrapment. No matter how much extra time you get in the Rainbow Room, you are still a prisoner.

I wanted to talk about the Rainbow Room in regards to when we see rainbows on El’s letter that she sent to Mike.

And yes, Mike reading a letter with rainbows on it in his Freddie Mercury tank while in front of his closet does seem like rainbows are being used as queercoding here, and that might be part of it, but considering that this scene comes right after we see the massacre in the Rainbow Room at the beginning of the episode, leading me to believe that the rainbows here are meant to correspond with the rainbows there.

Because Mike is like the Rainbow Room, he is supposed to be El’s light in the dark, he is supposed to be her reward after being in the rain for so long, but just like the Rainbow Room, it’s all false hope.

The Rainbow Room is where El has her showdown with One though, which represents another aspect of the light after the dark, clarity and truth.

El has learned the truth and she even gains a new power in this moment. In a way, One has also reached a light in this moment. He had Soteria removed, he is seeing new possibilities, but it’s twisted, it’s upside down, hence why his rainbow is flipped.

And now I bring it back to the screenshot I showed earlier of the rainbow behind Will, which yes lends itself to some queercoding, but this is also the same scene where Will reveals the truth to the gang about D’Art. He’s bringing new infortmation into the light, and thus there is a rainbow behind him.

So, when we talk about rainbows and costuming, I think it’s significant that Robin and Will, are two confirmed queer characters, do not wear rainbows on their clothes. And if they do, it’s only very subtly. Will’s most colorful outfit is probably the one he get’s taken in, and after that both Will and Robin wear pretty muted and monochromatic outfits. They are hiding in the dark, they aren’t able to show their truths, their rainbows, just yet.

So, to the nice anon whose ask I lost about what rainbows represent in ST, my answer is: Clarity, truth, and the light after the rainstorm.

[tmntstorycomp]

A Gift from Me to You

Massy huffed as he fiddled with the small pen in his hands. He glanced back at the turtles that were still milling about the sewer tunnel. This was all coming to an end, the game would be over soon. 

And he would send them home… Hopefully. He wanted to send them home. His thumb flicked against the gem along the top of the pen, his gaze turning downwards to look it over. Maybe.. Maybe he should talk to some of the Donatello’s here. That would.. Well, it would be better than nothing. 

But he knew how they worked. You want information, you give information. It’s like when Massy was a child and he tried to figure out when his dad’s birthday was. He had no idea, so he asked Uncle Donnie because he knew everything. But then Massy had to tell him that Leo was planning a big prank.

He would admit, the retaliation was pretty funny.

But the point stood, Massy wasn’t.. Sure what he was doing. He wasn’t even sure all these people were real. He didn’t know anything, and it was becoming abundantly clear. He was in over his head. 

But, he still led the way. Not explicitly, but as he walked through the sewer tunnels, he found that the people behind him seemed to just follow him. The closer he got to his destination, the darker the water seemed to get. How it dripped and lines became unstable. The musky scent of the sewer was slowly shifting to something akin to chemicals. 

But Massy stopped himself right outside the door. 

A large, metal door that was embedded into the concrete wall. His hand came up to the keypad, the numbers 3, 1, 4, 5,and 9 had faded after years of use. But before he could press any of the buttons, he turned on his heel and faced the crowd behind him. 

“So.. I’ve been hearing that you guys want some.. Erm.. Answers? About things and um-” Massy’s hands fumble the pen, nearly dropping it before he tucks it into his belt. 

“Well, um, now is your chance. Ask away.”

Rules for the Q&A:

While you can send asks whenever, the official Q&A will last 48 hours. We might not get to everyone, but we will try!

Massy might not be open to answering personal questions or questions with content that upsets him. (Or our mod team)

Feel free to send your own in-character asks! Just be sure to make them distinct in some way if thats your intent (ie, signing them as the character speaking, etc)

Keep in mind this fictional turtle child doesn't know you. He might get a little snarky and whatever comes out of his mouth might not reflect the views or opinions of the mod team.

[aiodenhunt]

Isle dreamer.

Where the Hook siblings assume CJ died. Set during wicked world, before D2

! TW!

-Character death (Let's pretend CJ is dead and not in Auradon for the sadsies)

-Depictions of grief.

——————————

Harriet went to sleep without thinking a lot about CJ being out for the night. Her sister was that way, she would never come back home in the estimated time. CJ would always come back one hour after her curfew, just to mess around with them.

Plus, she was with Freddie. If someone could put some reason into Calista’s head that was definitely Freddie.

So there was apparently nothing to worry about.

She stopped worrying about CJ coming home to sleep when the latter was around 11, ever since then CJ would sleep ‘Wherever the night caught her’ and take turns sleeping in the Jolly Roger, The lost revenge, Freddie’s house or Harriet’s ship; The crimson zephyr. She had that bad habit.

Her sister was just that careless.

And Harriet had given up with her a long time ago. Once she found CJ eating breakfast in her ship’s kitchen, which would’ve been normal if her sister had slept in her ship the previous night.

Harriet honestly didn’t care about that. She had learned to leave one window open and extra food just for CJ. It was better if her sister slept there than on the streets like the other children on the Isle.

Uma also didn’t mind CJ’s random presence on her ship, the pirate had just adopted her as ‘Harry’s annoying little sister that crashes here without warning’ and rolled along with it.

Captain Hook? He was sometimes delighted to see his daughter come back to her home and spend the night there, sometimes he would make it clear he didn’t want her there.

So, yeah. CJ spending the night out while she had explicitly told Harriet she would sleep in her ship wasn’t that much of a big deal. Maybe the Faciliers made something CJ likes for dinner and so she decided to spend the night there.

Oh well, she would just scold her little sister when she got home and that’s it.

Cj will be fine. She can fetch for herself.

So the following night, Harriet Hook woke up without too many worries inside of her head, half of those worries weren’t really related to her sister. They were mostly about her crew or the fact that they lived on a jail-island, nothing too bad or out of the ordinary.

She walked out of her cabin, heading to the kitchen. Greeting some of her crewmates in the process.

Claudine Frollo was already up, making breakfast for her crew. She was probably the only member of the crew who got up at the unholy hour that 5am was.“Good morning, Captain.” She said, serving some crepes for Harriet.

“ ‘Morning, have you seen Calista around the ship?” The captain asked, sitting down to eat what had been just served to her.

Claudine shook her head no.

“Are you sure?” Harriet insisted.

“If she had slept inside of the ship, I would’ve heard her entering it. You know I have quite the sensitive ear.”

“Hm.True.” Harriet hummed, taking some last bites out of her breakfast. “She must’ve spent the night with Harry or Freddie. She’ll probably be back in a day or two.”

“May the lord be with her.” Claudine made the cross gesture.

Harriet just let out a sigh. “Yeah let the religious stuff from your dad for an actually dangerous situation, We’ve got raids to do.”

And so, the next two days passed by normally for Harriet Hook.

Her rutinary raids, antics, some robbery and someone being stabbed, whatever was normal for her.

But, during those days. CJ was nowhere to be seen. At least inside of her ship.

She woke up with a little of a hangover from drinking last night, walking to the kitchen with one of her hands holding an ice pack on her head to calm down the migraine.

Harriet barely opened her mouth, and Claudine already had an answer for her question. “CJ still isn’t here. And no, Sammy hasn’t seen her either.”

The captain sighed. “Don’t serve me any breakfast, give it to Sammy or whoever needs it. I’m going to the Lost revenge to drag that brat back home.”

Harriet could hear a small giggle before leaving. “Good luck with that rascal.”

The way to the Lost revenge wasn’t too far from her. The isle was quite small, so it was just around two blocks away from her own ship. The port was way too small.

She knocked three times on the wooden of the ship, some of Uma’s pirates looking at her with fear, and some others with respect.

Uma looked at her from the deck, looking like she wanted to cuss her out of there at first; but once she realized it was Harriet she only sighed. “Ah, it 's you.”

“Harry! Your sister’s here!” The fellow captain screamed so loud it could probably be heard on all of the ship.

“The crazy one or the normal one?”

“The normal one!”

And so, Harry could soon be heard walking towards the deck, then he jumped out of the ship. “What up?”

“Has CJ been sleeping here for the last three days?” Harriet asked, straightforward.

Her brother bit his lip, frowning. “I was actually going to ask you if she had been sleeping in the Crimson zephyr. Haven’t seen that polliwog around in a while.”

Harriet took a deep breath. “So she hasn’t!”

Harry shook his head no. “Might be at dad’s.”

The captain shrugged, wanting to not look lowkey frustrated. “Wanna search for her with me? Maybe Hook’s got her hostage thinking she’s Peter pan or something. She never stays with him for that long.”

“Oh I had forgotten she’s that guy’s age already.” Harry mumbled. “Count me in. Uma ain’t doing anything interesting today.”

And so, The oldest sibling nodded, walking across the port along with her brother.

The Jolly roger being so close to the Lost revenge it was almost comical it took them around three minutes to get there

Once they were close enough, Harry yelled. “Oh Dad! Would you mind talking to your children?”

Hook looked down at them, making some gestures with his fake hand. “I do it every once in a while. What do you want now?”

“Have you seen Calista? Or, a child resembling Peter Pan lately?” Harriet asked, her arms crossed.

Their father frowned at the mention of that boy. “My little girl? Nope, and I wish I don’t see that hellish boy or anyone who resembles him again.”

Harriet sighed, turning around and walking away from the port (Dragging Harry along with her), refusing to listen to Hook any longer. “I believe him. If he had lost his mind he wouldn’t make it clear that Cj’s his favorite child.”

Harry decided to not argue any longer. Walking to wherever Harriet was going to.

Which seemed to be… The arcade the Facilier’s run?

How odd.

Harriet entered almost kicking the door open, her presence being ominous enough to startle most people inside of the arcade. She looked straight into Dr.Facilier’s eyes as soon as she spotted him.

“Has CJ slept here the last three days, Shadowman?”

“Easy there, Hook. I could ask you the exact same question about Freddie.” The older man answered, something in his voice made the phrase look like a threat. “Unlike your little sister she has some manners. She never sleeps outside of her home, much less uninvited. Where is my daughter?”

Harry almost walks up to Facilier, hook in hand. Yet Harriet stopped him.

“Where is my sister? They should be together. I’m not looking for a fight.” The pirate dropped her sword, and made her brother drop his hook. (Although he rolled his eyes when she did.) “Kidnapping your daughter would only make CJ hate me.”

The shadowman seemed a little more relaxed, less menacing. Yet he still looked stressed. “I’m serious. I don’t know where both of them are. Celia has been worried, so am I. We figured maybe CJ was keeping her hidden, or rather hiding with her.”

Harriet growled in frustration, picking up her sword and passing the hook to her brother.

“Whatever. Those two must be hiding anywhere waiting for us to lose our minds searching for them. I’ll tell you when I find them, so you can also ground Freddie for life for letting CJ do that.”

Facilier nodded, with a heavy sigh. Then the siblings left the arcade.

Harriet kicked a stone in frustration.

Harry didn’t know quite what to do. Looking worried was not a choice, though. “Maybe she is okay. Just playing hide and seek anywhere, just to toy around with us.”

Harriet bit one of her nails, not wanting to seem worried either. She could not show weakness in public. “Tell Uma and her crew to look out for her literally everywhere. My crew will do the same. No stone must remain unturned.”

Harry let out a laugh. “That polliwog will be so grounded when you get her.”

“She will not see the sunlight until she turns eighteen.”

And so, the day passed by.

All the raids planified for that day came to a halt. For both Uma and Harriet’s crew. The pirates looked for every street inside in the isle, every alley. Every business that could be a possible hideout.

Harriet’s crew even had to swallow down whatever fear they had left and enter Maleficent’s now abandoned castle. Still, no trace of CJ nearby. It seemed like her most probable hideout but there wasn’t a single trail of her or Freddie in there.

The search went on for two weeks.

Uma’s had looked inside of the Hell hall but even there, there was not a single trace of the missing girls.

Every alley had been temporarily invaded by the pirates in search for the girl, and no one was there.

Harriet had screamed her sister’s name time and again, and nobody answered.

During the second week, they had stopped searching and began raiding more often, in case somebody had the guts to hold hostage the youngest Hook child.

The hopes of Cj’s older siblings were high when the raids began, and they had in fact found some of the missing children of the isle who would then be sent back to their parent’s arms.

Nonetheless there was not a single trace of CJ or Freddie in any of those raids. When interrogating people, they claimed that they knew that kidnapping CJ Hook was technically suicide.

So, during the third week of Cj’s disappearance, Harriet and Harry stopped looking for someone living.

Harriet shivered, her voice trembled a little when she asked what might be the hardest question she had ever asked. “I need Uma to ask Ursula if she has seen any remains of CJ in the depths of the sea.”

CJ never learned how to swim unlike her siblings. Maybe she stepped on rotten wood whilst walking on the port and drowned.

Or maybe someone had killed her and dropped her remains into the sea.

They knew the villains were immortal, as she herself accidentally killed her father once. (In self defense.) But they also knew that VK’s could die. Everyone who wasn’t deemed as a dangerous villain was not immortal. How charming. Thank you, King Beast.

Whatever, Harriet needed a coat, her sister’s headband, anything. She needed to know what happened to her baby sister.

Neither of the siblings had the strength to tell their father that they thought CJ was dead. They just knew that he was probably drinking himself blind thanks to her daughter’s disappearance.

Harriet also wanted to do that.

Yet she needed to be sober to keep on looking.

She was angry at first.

Angry at the world who set this godforsaken barrier on them. Angry at herself for not looking out for her sister earlier. Angry at her father, for neglecting them in that way.

She screamed, smashed a couple bottles against the floor and punched a wall, yet the people in her crew knew it was best to let Harriet be.

Sammy told them that it was her captain’s way to go through grief.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed more maniacal than never. Whenever they attacked he laughed more than usual, he was more prone to burst out laughing after any inconvenience happened to him. He lashed out when someone mentioned CJ, too.

Uma was there to hold Harry whenever he broke down. She was there to at least tell him that his sister was probably in a better place now. There was someone to be Harry’s support.

Harriet did have Ginny to hold her down while she lashed out, and unlike Harry and Uma, she was not enough to calm her down completely.

Of course she appreciated her partner, but no romantical love could fill the hole her sister left in her heart.

Harriet had raised that girl. She saw her grow up, she taught her how to read and how to count, she taught her how to defend herself.

Had she done something wrong? Had she forgotten to look somewhere else?

Oh.

She did.

The underworld.

All the dead went there, and the god of the underworld was there, on the Isle. Maybe she could give her an answer.

Nonetheless when Harriet sat down to speak with Hades, all she got was disappointment.

Hades was no longer the ruler of the underworld during his imprisonment, the ones ruling it were Persephone and Nyx. Some other goddesses, or demi-gods. Harriet didn’t gave a single fuck about whatever divine status they had.

Persephone was the only one who could tell her if her sister was dead or not.

And Persephone could only come to the island during the winter. It is currently the beginning of autumn.

Great.

So she had to wait months to know if her sister was alive or not.

Harriet did her best to not break down when she reunited with Harry a couple of days later.

They picked up a couple of the few flowers that could be found across the isle, and some shiny stuff CJ would have wanted.

Since cameras weren’t a thing on the isle and they didn’t have a picture of the deceased girls, Harriet painted a small portrait of CJ and Freddie, although it wasn’t her main hobby or a sustainable one on the isle, she was quite good at it.

They made a makeshift altar on the Crimson zephyr, inside of the cabin where their little sister used to sleep in.

Neither Harriet nor Harry cried during Claudine’s memorial speech, all her time with Frollo had prepared her to host funerals; at last. Celia did cry for Freddie.

Claudine lit up a small candle on the altar for the two souls.

Harry didn’t have the strength to speak during the makeshift funeral.

Neither did Harriet, but she spoke anyway.

She swallowed down a tear while standing in front of the portrait of her little sister. “Calista was not a saint. Hell, she stole from us more times than I can count on my two hands.”

“Yet she never had ill intentions. I dare to say my sister was the closest we will have to someone being genuinely kind on this Godforsaken isle. I hope she is happy and in peace along with her best friend, away from this living hell. I hope that this is a reminder of the cruelty of King Beast. And I hope one day we will be able to break this down, so no more innocents will die with misery and pain being all of what they knew during their short lives. Calista Jane Hook, I hope you forgive your siblings for not being able to save you.”

Maybe she teared up while speaking, yet no one pointed it out.

Harriet doesn’t remember anything else that happened during that funeral. She zoned out, just thinking.

Thinking about how CJ used to tell Harriet about her dreams of navigating and seeing the world beyond the barrier she was born into.

She thought about how that little dreamer never got to see anything more than misery, and thinking about how they don’t even have a body to mourn her properly.

Did she suffer?

Did she go in peace? Did she thought about them while leaving?

What a waste…

Ginny had to drag Harriet to bed that night. She drank until she passed out, mumbling something about not being able to save her.

Maybe one day, the memory of the youngest Hook child will stop being painful.

It won’t be today.

[amarias-yandere-blog]

Can i get yandere inazuma character of your choice if that okay? Anyway they confessed and unfortunately s/o is already dating the traveler. Like, HELL no ain't no way they can win. This mf beat ei herself and they think they HAVE a CHANCE?! HELL no!!! Hahahah i love to see their reaction lmaooo

And I oop~ This is quite the interesting request. I'll be doing: Heizou and Ei Enjoy~

Warning: Yandere themes, gaslighting/Manipulation, other uncomfortable themes

Note: Aether and Lumine are not explicitly mentioned. This is very spur of the moment, has not been read over, and will not be edited after posting.

Shikanoin Heizou:

"Y/n... I have feelings for you." The confession from the detective was shocking and flattering, but extremely offensive.

He knew that you were in a relationship! He knew that you were not interested in him in the least.

And yet he had said this to you. Despite the genuine way he had said it, how he'd been careful to make sure you felt safe; you didn't trust him. You were shaking with anger, but also something deeper.

"Y/n? Is everything alright?" Heizou clearly noticed this. Nothing went past him, especially when it came to body langauge, tone of voice, and more. He was a trained detective, and a brilliant one.

But despite that, he could not compare to your sweet Traveler. You took a deep breath, giving a soft smile.

"Heizou, I'm honored, really. But I'm afraid that I don't feel the same way that you do about me." You paused to gather your thoughts, noting how his eyes narrowed at the response. You could not keep the hints of abhorrence from your voice as you continued. "You very well know that I am already in a relationship with the traveler. I'm sorry, but unfortunately, I don't love you as I love them."

Heizou smiled sweetly. He understood, of course. Who wouldn't understand? Well, you had assumed he understood. "Y/n, dearest, do you really think that they love you?" Heizou's question was purely innocent.

"What?" you could not keep the bite out of your voice as you glared at him.

"Come on, Y/n, any caring S/O would ensure that they knew where you were before letting you meet a friend- especially one who is a potential threat to them- before letting you leave. But the Traveler didn't, right?" Heizou asked the question as though he was explaining how to count to a two-year-old. As though you were stupid.

"No... they just trust me to take care of myself! Besides, they know you! You wouldn't hurt me, or anyone for that matter!" You found yourself spewing out the words before you could stop yourself. "You're the greatest detective Inazuma has seen!"

"...And yet you don't acknowledge me as such." Heizou sighed, rolling his shoulders. They cracked loudly. "You don't think of me as a threat, and that... was a mistake." Raiden Ei

You shuffled, looking at the woman uncomfortably. "I... I'm honored, Raiden, truly, but..." Before you could finish, the archon cuts you off.

"Ei, please."

"Huh?"

"My name. It is Ei." She explains swiftly. "Please call me Ei." The woman has a wide smile gracing her lips, turning the room a bit more light-hearted. You nod, trying to keep your gulp of nervousness from being too obvious. "Are you thirsty, Y/n?"

"No... I'm fine." You answer.

"Then please, give your answer. I am aware that you have budding relations with the Traveler, but surely...?" Her question is left open-ended.

"Ei..." You take a deep breath to settle your nerves. She hums, eyes closed, as though enjoying the way you said her name. "I am truly honored that you feel that way for me, but I'm afraid that I don't feel the same. I really do love the traveler, and they love me back." You pause, noticing her hand twitch. "We have plans to travel this world together, and eventually other worlds with their sibling. Surely you can understand?"

"..." Ei sighs, shaking her head. "I see." She sits back on her throne, looking colder than ever. "It seems that you have been manipulated into believing that this traveler loves you. I will have to fix that. I am sorry that I had not realized sooner, Little Light." The woman's purple eyes fix back on you, who shrinks back in fear.

"It is fortutous that the Traveler is not with you. If I were to face them in a fight again, I would surely lose, and Inazuma would suffer for it. But if they believed that you chose me willingly, then they will move on to Sumeru, not looking back." She waves her hand gracefully, standing up after. "This, too, is a form of eternity."

____________________

Hey everyone! Sorry for dipping for so long. I can't guarantee that I'm back, though, because unfortunately for a lot of Mobile Players, we're slowly being choked out of room for Genshin updates, and this problem (as well as my own burn out) had caused me to be unable to play for quite a while.

I even missed the opportunity to pull for Cyno because of this. But I am saving up for Kusinali, because archons are amazing, and also she's absolutely adorable. I also got a C1 Albedo! (I only pulled on his banner once, and he came home that ten pull) No Nilou, though, because her kit is very special and I don't have any built dendro characters. (RIP Collei)

Who're you saving/pulling for this next update? Are you planning on building any characters, or saving most of your materials for future characters?

Thanks for all of the follows, everyone! And thank you especially for the ask, @harukisakisblog!

The reason why I did two charas is because I've recently been building and playing Heizou's event (He is illegally fun wtf) and Ei has had my heart ever since I first learned her backstory.