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reikorun · 7 months

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KlubOutside Q&A 201-300 [Translation]

Translated by @reikorun

Q201.

2021.09.20

I like Luppi. I was absolutely overjoyed when Luppi made an appearance as a playable character in Blade Battlers 2nd which was released on PS2. In this game, Luppi's arms transform into tentacles and he could extend them to attack. I was surprised because there was no such depiction in the original work. Did sensei also supervise the settings for attacks in this game?

A201.

I can't recall so I probably didn't touch it. Luppi fighting with outstretched arms is so entertaining to me. I think that outlaw kind of feeling is one of the greatest qualities about games back then.

Q202.

2021.09.20

Of all the characters you have drawn, which one did sensei consider the most difficult to design?

A202.

Shun Shun Rikka, or rather the image of Orihime's abilities is the one thing which changed the most without quite clicking together. Initially, the story was that Orihime herself would grow Horns and sprout a tail, becoming sort of like a dragon girl.

Q203.

2021.09.20

Sensei, is there any character that you have drawn who makes you think "this guy is insufferable"?

A203.

There isn't. I draw while thinking “this is so scummy, that's the best thing about it.”

Q204.

2021.09.20

Does Kubo-sensei have any fetish? When I look at sensei's drawings, I can't help but speculate that you like slender wrists and long fingers, regardless of gender.

A204.

I don't have any particular fetish. I think it's because I draw illustrations using my own hands as reference.

Q205.

2021.09.20

Regarding Ichimaru Gin's eye color, I believe it was red around the early days of the anime, and then changed to blue in the latter half. What does Kubo-sensei think of his red eyes around this early stage? Also, as far as Kubo-sensei's canon is concerned, is it safe to assume Ichimaru Gin's eye color is blue?

A205.

In the early days, the checks were not being handed down to me so they ended up being red. For the record, the anime related mistakes were errors made by my editor at the time who didn't bring the checks to me. Because of this, I drew Gin with his eyes open on the cover of volume 20.

Q206.

2021.09.20

Rukia's visuals in the live-action adaptation has become quite a hot topic of conversation, but was the matter reviewed by Kubo-sensei?

A206.

I had made it clear from the beginning that I would not be involved with the live-action project, so basically the whole thing was given the okay. Even regarding Rukia's hair, there was a conversation where they said "we'd like to go ahead with this" so I assumed there was a clear vision but it turns out there wasn't. I don't dislike the movie itself. Renji was extremely good.

Q207.

2021.09.27

Kubo-sensei, to what extent do you supervise merchandise and so on? I'm very happy that a lot of BLEACH merch has been released recently.

A207.

I feel like I'm supervising the things my editor can't make a judgment call on. Speaking of editors, they try their best to avoid handing over supervision duties to authors so that they can allow authors to concentrate on their creations, but after the series had ended, I had some free time so my editor has started bringing me more supervision duties than before.

Q208.

2021.09.27

If it were to come true, would you ever wish for a BLEACH anime adaptation, which faithfully follows the original work, to be broadcast by way of a remake?

A208.

I think I would.

Q209.

2021.09.27

It seems that the 2021 art exhibition will only be held at one location in Tokyo, but would it be possible for you to consider holding it at a variety of other locations? I'm really looking forward to it, but I'm sure there are many people across the country who live a considerable distance away and can't make it. It's a wonderful opportunity, so I think it will be easier to visit if it is hosted in various locations. I think it's a really difficult task, but I would be grateful if you could consider it just once.

A209.

I also want to show the exhibit to my parents, so I hope it will be held in Hiroshima.

Q210.

2021.09.27

Even though Byakuya and Ichika-chan never interact in the original work, I can easily imagine Byakuya being an uncle. I wonder why that is?

A210.

I can imagine it too. Byakuya's face whenever he tells her "kamawanu*"…. (*It's fine/I don't mind)

Q211.

2021.09.27

In volume 58, chapter 518, when Grimmjow was trying to interrupt Urahara and Ichigo's communication, Urahara instructed Orihime and Sado to "use the you-know-what to chase him back outside the tent", but what exactly was the "you-know-what"? What in the world is it, that it can throw Grimmjow off balance to such a degree…? I've been wondering about this for a long time.

A211.

It's a device which emits a sound that Grimmjow dislikes.

Q212.

2021.09.27

Is Ninny-chan easier to draw than Noel-chan?? I was curious because there are more illustrations drawn of Ninny-chan!

A212.

This is because the clothes I want to draw tend to suit Ninny better. If you have big breasts, it's probably difficult to find clothes that suit you.

Q213.

2021.10.04

Ginrei is Byakuya's grandfather, but Kyōraku did not mention his name as a Shinigami who has been Captain for 100 years or more, so perhaps his career as a Captain was rather short?

A213.

I forgot to mention him! Let's just pretend it was Shunsui's blunder.

Q214.

2021.10.04

Do you find that characters of a certain age group are easy to draw, and conversely, characters of a different age group difficult to draw?

A214.

I'm not very good at drawing children or toddlers.

Q215.

2021.10.04

I have been curious about Tsubokura Rin-kun of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute. Rin-kun's hair wasn't filled in when he was in monochrome, I thought for certain he had pale blonde or white hair. However, in the anime his hair was dark brown … so as far as you are concerned sensei, what colors did you imagine when designing him?

A215.

Was that the color it turned out to be? The image I had in mind is a pale sepia-like color.

Q216.

2021.10.04

Isn't it too bothersome to draw Grimmjow's hairstyle??

A216.

It's too bothersome isn't it? I wonder if you could give him a stiff pompadour instead?

Q217.

2021.10.04

Do you remember the first game you ever played?

A217.

It's "GeGeGe no Kitarō - Yōkai Daimakyō" which was purchased for me together with the Famicom unit itself.

Q218.

2021.10.04

Do you get asked to draw portraits by acquaintances?

A218.

I have always refused all portrait requests from both friends and celebrities.

Q219.

2021.10.11

What is Kensei's specialty dish?

A219.

It's "Whole Pumpkin Gratin". The highlight for him is the part where he gets to use his bare hands.

Q220.

2021.10.11

When I saw the Playlist on KlubOutside, I was surprised at the wide scope of Sensei's music choices. How do you discover new music?

A220.

SoundHound is my recommendation.

Q221.

2021.10.11

Is the bellyband worn by the Shinigami Men's Association the same as the one worn by Kirinji Tenjirō?

A221.

It's different. The bellyband Tenjirō wears was made by Senjumaru.

Q222.

2021.10.11

Now that I think of it, what does "Whiskrs" mean? I looked into it, and although there are some existing terms, I couldn't find anything in particular with regard to its meaning. I don't know whether sensei came up with the name or not, but perhaps it envelopes some special meaning?

A222.

It's a modified spelling of the word "whiskers". I came up with the name, or to be more specific, it's originally the name of a store that exists within the BTW universe. Though, this still has yet to make an appearance in the story.

Q223.

2021.10.11

When you go out, have you ever had a fan recognize you as Kubo-sensei and then attempt to speak with you?

A223.

A long time ago, another author wound up uploading a photo of a drinking party I was with to Twitter in the middle of the get-together, the restaurant was identified from the photograph and I was ambushed. It was late at night and I was on my way home alone, so it was really scary. That was probably the one and only time I was approached on the street.

Q224.

2021.10.11

Sensei, have you ever felt negatively about your own work in the past? I am currently creating works with the goal of becoming a designer, but unfortunately I feel embarrassed to display even the things I have created very recently in front of others. How do you overcome this from your perspective, sensei?

A224.

When I first became a manga artist, I felt embarrassed when my editor read my draft right in front of me. If you are creating something that personally satisfies you, you're just not accustomed to showing it to the average person, so you have no choice but to show it to a bunch of people and get used to it.

Q225.

2021.10.11

Have you ever had a character Awakened in Brave Souls? If so, I would like to know which character it is.

A225.

It's Fierce Battle Aizen. Though, it's more like I just ended up Awakening him when I was targeting others.

Q226.

2021.10.18

In the work, it was never once stated from a reliable source that Tōshirō's Bankai comes undone once his petals dissipate, but what actually happened when his petals fell away during the period he had an imperfect Bankai?

A226.

Hitsugaya would injure himself after going through an imperfect growth.

Q227.

2021.10.18

When Rangiku had collapsed, Gin said "the fact that you passed out from hunger, it means that you have it too, right? Spiritual Power." and in Volume 11, there is a description from the exchange between Rukia and Renji that those with Spiritual Power feel hungry. But why didn't Hitsugaya realize he had powers until he dreamed of Hyōrinmaru?

A227.

Because his grandmother taught him that "only children get hungry.”

Q228.

2021.10.18

Why did Orihime's Rikka grow larger when Chad and Orihime returned from training in the final arc? I was curious because no one touched on the matter.

A228.

That's because Kisuke modified it to match her clothes (a cover was installed on the outside of the pins to make them difficult to break), but nobody said anything because they didn't think it was particularly worth mentioning.

Q229.

2021.10.18

When I was looking at "Hirako glasses" which was updated on the Gallery's Graffiti section, I became curious, what is that thing Hirako Shinji is holding in his mouth? Considering the hot drink in his left hand, maybe it's a cinnamon stick or something?

A229.

It's a cigarillo that he's holding in his mouth purely for fashion. I looked into it when I drew it but I couldn't find anything that matched the size I imagined.

Q230.

2021.10.25

Good evening! The work titled "maturity" in the gallery that was released on April 3, 2021, could that be Mayuri-sama?

A230.

It's Mayuri. When I tried to type the title "mayuri", I accidentally tapped on the wrong suggestion and entered that instead, I left it as it is because it's a pain to change it.

Q231.

2021.10.25

Did Ikkaku make the strap that Ichika has attached to her bag in JET?

A231.

That's right.

Q232.

2021.10.25

In BLEACH, how much influence did the ranking results of popularity polls have on a character's level of activity?

A232.

It's irrelevant. I'm the type who thinks "isn't that kind of thing discourteous to characters with few votes?"

Q233.

2021.10.25

Regarding the art exhibition, is it possible to increase the number of venues? I would absolutely love to participate, but due to the current situation, it is quite difficult to travel to Tokyo. Nevertheless, there are many fans of sensei and his work around the world. Although this is a very presumptuous request, I would be extremely grateful if you could consider it. Best regards.

A233.

I'll let my editor know! Murakoshi-saaan!!

Q234.

2021.10.25

Sensei, given that you play a lot of Dragon Quest, I was curious, is "Zaraki" - the district of Rukongai which Zaraki Kenpachi took as his name - based on the spell "Thwack" (*Zaraki in Japanese).

A234.

That's correct. Hold on, have I never mentioned this before?

Q235.

2021.11.01

Is there any reason why Kyōraku-san couldn't grace the cover of a tankōbon? I wanted him to have a cover.

A235.

It's just a coincidence. I wanted to draw it too.

Q236.

2021.11.01

Are Renji's tattoos only on the upper half of his body? Do they not continue down to his thighs?

A236.

They don't continue down. Wait? Have I never drawn his thighs before?

Q237.

2021.11.01

Is the double chant that Rukia recited during the fight against Aaroniero, simply the Sōren Sōkatsui chant split in two, with the Rikujōkōrō chant sandwiched in-between? Or does the substance of the chant change slightly depending on whether each is invoked independently or as a double chant?

A237.

It's a shortened version of Rikujōkōrō inserted between the full version of Sōren Sōkatsui. The effectiveness of the spells will increase if you perform both chants in full, but the time efficiency will decrease, so that would diminish the purpose of a two layered chant.

Q238.

2021.11.01

When a Zanpakutō is inherited from another person like in the case of Tōsen and Kenpachi, will the essence of its soul be overwritten? Or will it be made to mix with the essence of the previous owner?

A238.

Generally it is overwritten, but in some cases it may mix.

Q239.

2021.11.08

Were there any foreshadowing elements that made you go "ultimately, nobody noticed, huh?" up to the end of the BLEACH serialization? If so, is it likely there will be an opportunity to present it somewhere?

A239.

After I've finished playing a game or watching a movie, I like spending time alone thinking about what happened here and there or discussing with others about this and that. I want to create moments like that, so there are some parts where I try to depict things in a way that is not easily noticed, that's why unless someone correctly points it out, I try not to say much.

Q240.

2021.11.08

Why didn't Ryūken give Uryū the "ken" (弦) character in his name? ×[1]

A240.

Because he was thinking that he didn't want to let Uryū become Quincy.

Q241.

2021.11.08

How far have you progressed in Monster Hunter? If there is a monster that you like among the monsters that appear in this title, please tell me about it!

A241.

I haven't played in a while. In this title I like Goss Harag.

Q242.

2021.11.08

Can I post the photos from the gallery on social media??!?!?

A242.

I guess it's not allowed, going by the FC rules. You can post my dog from Deskside at least.

Q243.

2021.11.15

Have you ever had to change a scene you originally wanted in order to make the depiction more in line with Jump guidelines? If so, which scene is it and how did you truly want to draw it?

A243.

During the time Jump had a large circulation, extremely graphic depictions were not allowed, so I had to redraw some of the places where Mayuri appears. The first thing I fixed was the scene where his squad members die in an explosion.

Q244.

2021.11.15

There are characters for whom the theme music feels perfect, and on the other hand, others for whom the theme music is unexpected. By listening to each character's song, I feel like I am able to learn more about a character's inner being, it's so much fun! When deciding on a song, which does sensei place more importance on: the lyrics, or the melody?

A244.

It's only about the melody, sound and vocal quality. If it's the case that the lyrics also match, it's just a coincidence.

Q245.

2021.11.15

The market for e-books has grown larger, but when it comes to electronic and physical copy, people often say things like "you should buy the physical book!" What do you think?

A245.

Either one is fine. Even I read most of my manga electronically now. I like making paper books but I think physical paper copies will become more of a collector's item in the near future.

Q246.

2021.11.15

Kubo-sensei draws many animals, but are there any that you particularly enjoy drawing?

A246.

Right now it's dogs. Since owning a dog, I've started to grow fond of animals, so I feel like I may reach a point where I'm able to draw animals a little better now.

Q247.

2021.11.15

If there was an entrance song for Chad's boxing match, I wonder what kind of music it would be? If you have a song in mind that you can imagine for this scenario, please share the artist's name and song title with us.

A247.

It would be "Apache" by Michael Viner's Incredible Bongo Band.

Q248.

2021.11.22

An illustration of Tatsuki wearing a Shihakushō exists, did you originally plan to have her transform into a Shinigami?

A248.

The one I drew for Jump Festa a long time ago, right? That's just an illustration I drew for Jump Festa that one time.

Q249.

2021.11.22

It seems like Rukia often wears dresses in the Human World, is there some reason why? If you have any particular preferences regarding the clothing choices of the BLEACH cast, please by all means, tell us about it!

A249.

I'll give you three example reasons for why they wear what they wear:

Orihime's body type makes it difficult for her to wear a dress.

I wanted to make a physically active Rukia stand out by making her wear clothes that are ill suited for physical activity.

Rukia was wearing hakama in Soul Society, so she's not familiar with fitted clothes.

Q250.

2021.11.22

You may not remember this … but during an autograph signing session, I was the one who announced "I'm getting married to my boyfriend who I initially became friends with through BLEACH!" We broke up at lightning speed after that! (Peace sign.) But sometimes we hang out and are on good terms as friends. Now my question is, what is sensei's favorite color?

A250.

My condolences. It's orange.

Q251.

2021.11.22

In the JET Q&A segment, you replied that the Vice-Captains of the 13th Division ten years later would be Sentarō and Kiyone, but I believe Kiyone was also the Vice-Captain of the 4th Division, so does that mean that they are concurrently serving as Vice-Captains?

A251.

That would be a mistake. Sentarō is the only Vice-Captain of the 13th.

Q252.

2021.11.29

Please tell us how Unagiya Ikumi-san and Ichigo met in the first place.

A252.

Their meeting came about when Ichigo delivered Kaoru, a lost child (and Ikumi's son) back to his mother. (Ikumi encountered them en route.)

Q253.

2021.11.29

Ichigo remembers the time Orihime carried her older brother Sora to the Kurosaki Clinic, but does Orihime remember meeting Ichigo at this time? When Ichigo entered high school, he noticed that Orihime was the girl from back then, does Orihime realize that it was Ichigo who greeted her at that moment?

A253.

Ichigo is the only one who remembers. Ichigo remembers that scene clearly because he felt a strong sense of one-way sympathy for Orihime, who was on the verge of losing her family.

Q254.

2021.11.29

Sensei, what's the one thing that makes you think "I'm second to none when it comes to this!"?

A254.

My Mickey Mouse impression.

Q255.

2021.11.29

I got the impression that Aizen-sama was often drinking black tea at Las Noches, but I wonder if likewise he drank Japanese tea during the time he was in Soul Society in the role of a Shinigami? Or is it that Western style food and drink like black tea also exist in Soul Society, and he has been a black tea enthusiast since long ago?

A255.

I drew that because I wanted a scene where Aizen eats the same thing as the Espada, but when it came to eating, there were some characters (like Ulquiorra) who I didn't want to depict in a dining scene (at that point), so I merely chose black tea as a compromise, therefore it's not that I was paying any particular attention to tea itself.

Q256.

2021.12.06

Is it possible for a member of the Gotei 13 to transfer to another Squad at their own behest? Recruitment of Captains or Vice-Captains from other Squads has been portrayed, but what is the situation like for ordinary soldiers?

A256.

It is possible if they make an application and obtain permission through their superior officer all the way up to the Captain. However, If they don't have any accomplishments their superior will reject it so it's difficult for an ordinary soldier.

Q257.

2021.12.06

Do you have a favorite coffee shop?

A257.

The place I frequent the most is Hoshino Coffee. I want to go to Komeda but I haven't had the chance to go yet.

Q258.

2021.12.06

What kind of life did Ikkaku-san and Shino-chan lead in Rukongai? I'm not sure if they're related by blood or not, but are they still family?

A258.

They're ordinary relatives. The Madarame family are a distinguished family and Ikkaku is treated like an oddball.

Q259.

2021.12.06

What do you order when you use services like Uber Eats for delivery?

A259.

The thing I order the most is Starbucks' White Mocha. By the way, I don't use Uber because I had a scary experience in the past.

Q260.

2021.12.06

I would like a YouTube channel or something to be created for Uni-chan.

A260.

If I could get someone to do the editing for me, then I would like to make one to document my dog's growth, but I don't think I would update it often….

Q261.

2021.12.13

If you were to spend a day with any character from "BLEACH" or "BURN THE WITCH", who would you like to be with?

A261.

I seriously thought about it, but maybe being with Balgo would be the easiest….

Q262.

2021.12.13

Speaking in terms of BLEACH characters, who would you compare the breast sizes of Noel-chan and Cquntnire-san to?

A262.

It's more or less that I'm drawing Noel like Orihime and Cquntnire like Nel.

Q263.

2021.12.13

What is Kubo-sensei's favorite rock or metal band?

A263.

I haven't been listening to much metal lately…during my high school days, I liked ROYAL HUNT and IN FLAMES.

Q264.

2021.12.13

This is closer to a request than a question, but I would like for you to issue and sell, the currently trending, NFTs with BLEACH illustrations! If that were to happen, I would definitely buy them!

A264.

I'll let my editor know about this also. Murakoshi-saaan!

Q265.

2021.12.13

What is your favorite ice cream?

A265.

Lately, I've been liking HERSHEY'S Chocolate Ice Bars. It's also nice that each bar is small and just the right size.

Q266.

2021.12.20

I have a question regarding BTW Magic. In chapter 0.8 which is a one-shot, Noel-chan uses Absolute Dragon Shatter in Front London, but in chapter 1, numbered Pipers spells known as "Magic" made an appearance. As a premise, I believe that Magic and Absolute Dragon Shatter are alike (as they both use Witch Kits), I suspect that the reason why Noel-chan adopted this unnumbered attack method in Front London may be due to one of the following two points:

1. Magic is an attack method that utilizes the medium of Witch Kits to feed on a special energy similar to Reishi which exists only in Reverse London, on the other hand, Absolute Dragon Shatter is an attack method made for Front London, which does not require this special Reishi.

2. Given that it was an attack against a Disguiser Dragon who had remained hidden for ten odd years, Absolute Dragon Shatter was used as an arcane means and is considered the highest order of Magic or even a method surpassing Magic itself.

I'm really interested about the relationship between Magic and Absolute Dragon Shatter, will it be revealed within the story in the future!?

A266.

How insightful, I'm not sure whether or not I'll get to write about it in the future so I'll explain. In Front London, you can basically only use spells through items that are "charged" with magical power. The gun-pipe is not a rechargeable item, but Noel habitually fills it with magical power of her own accord, the release of that power is Absolute Dragon Shatter. Only Noel is able to use it.

Q267.

2021.12.20

The person Ichigo respects is Shakespeare. Given this fact, does it follow that this is a universe where eminent figures like Mozart and Napoleon existed?

A267.

Eminent figures certainly exist within the Soul Society too, but if I were to touch upon that, the manga would end up in a completely different place, so I didn't bring it up.

Q268.

2021.12.20

Do Szayelaporro's glasses have lenses? Since it's a mask, there should be no lenses so I assumed it was the frame alone. However in the anime, there were depictions of lenses reflecting the light and gleaming so I was confused!

A268.

There is no lens.

Q269.

2021.12.20

Were all the designs of the Zanpakutō which materialized in the Zanpakutō: The Alternate Tale arc, created by you, sensei?

A269.

I came up with some ideas and had an image in mind, Kudō-san designed them, I checked them. They pass for various reasons like being "just as I imagined!" or being "interesting because I wouldn't have come up with this design myself!"

Q270.

2021.12.27

Do you have a favorite character from Dragon Quest numbered titles or spin-off works?

A270.

It's King Grossner (Dragon Quest 10).

Q271.

2021.12.27

I heard that you like figure skating, Kubo-sensei, but do you have a favorite athlete?

A271.

It's Candeloro.

Q272.

2021.12.27

It is mentioned in the novel "WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU", that when Shiba Kaien died in battle, Isshin was the Captain of Squad 10. Why didn't Rukia, who was already serving as a member of the Gotei 13 at the time, realize that Ichigo's father was Shiba Isshin when she was freeloading off of the Kurosaki family?

A272.

There are two reasons for this: for one, his outward appearance was completely different. Secondly, he was a Captain from another Squad and she was a regular soldier, so they didn't have much point of contact in the first place. To go further, given that there is no way for a Shinigami to have children with a human (only Kisuke knows how), the idea that a "Shinigami may become human and produce children in the Human World" did not occur to Rukia.

Q273.

2022.01.03

I like the accessories (hats, sunglasses, etc.) and clothes that the characters are wearing in KlubOutside's Graffiti, they are exceedingly stylish. Is it possible to put them up for sale?

A273.

I will let the FC manager know about this. Totani-saaan!

Q274.

2022.01.03

Sensei, do you have any plans to publish, for instance, the yonkoma you drew for the magazine into a single book someday?

A274.

It might have been published in JET.

Q275.

2022.01.03

When you were writing BTW, who came to your mind first between Ninny and Noel?

A275.

Out of all the characters in BTW, Noel was the first.

Q276.

2022.01.03

When Rukia entered her name into the family register, it's assumed that she did not change her last name, but now that she has become a Captain, it means there will be two Captain Kuchiki, so how do the other troops distinguish between the two when addressing them? Is it possible that she will revert to the Abarai surname?

A276.

Many of the troops differentiate between them by calling them Captain Kuchiki and 13th Captain Kuchiki.

Q277.

2022.01.10

Did Zangetsu eventually return to being a single blade? The "Ten Years Later" version of Ichigo was implemented in the social game - Brave Souls, and he wielded the "Zangetsu which emerged from a broken Tensa Zangetsu" as seen in the final stages of the Thousand-Year Blood War arc. Zangetsu which was reforged into two swords for Hollow and Quincy, became one as Tensa Zangetsu in Bankai, so I thought for sure it would return to two swords once the Bankai is disengaged.

However, does this mean that Zangetsu did not return to two swords due to the fact that after activating Bankai, Ichigo's Hollow and Quincy powers were absorbed by Yhwach, and that his Bankai was damaged among other factors? Or is it that it's possible for Ichigo to wield both the dual swords and the single sword if he so desires?

It may just be game original staging to begin with, but I was intrigued.

A277.

Since I haven't described this in detail nor do I plan to portray the matter any further, I'll give you an answer. The two blades of Zangetsu are the "sword" and the "sheath". The correct form of a Zanpakutō is one that has a sheath, and there are only two swords without one: Sayafushi and Zangetsu. What fixed Zangetsu into its "correct form" is the dual swords state, and in Bankai Zangetsu is placed back in its sheath, what emerged after that sheath was shattered is the "True Zangetsu". The shattered sheath was absorbed by Ichigo, so I think he is also able to return to dual blades if he wants to, but I suppose that depends on Ichigo himself.

Q278.

2022.01.17

I've always wondered about this since reading volume 12, but was there a physical relationship between Aizen and Hinamori? I think it's more fitting for Aizen to not engage in this sort of thing, so I'm on the side that says it didn't happen.

A278.

I won't answer this because I think it'll be more fun to leave it unanswered.

Q279.

2022.01.17

Is Hōzukimaru a rare type of Zanpakutō which always requires the sheath for its Shikai.

A279.

That's right.

Q280.

2022.01.17

Kubo-sensei, when it comes to TVs, are you in favor of wall-mounted? Or do you prefer freestanding?

A280.

Mine is attached to a wall storage unit with an extendable arm.

Q281.

2022.01.24

Upon being granted a letter, does the Schrift allow abilities to manifest based on the nature of an individual? Or does His Majesty already know what they are before granting it at the epithet stage.

A281.

Yhwach can see words almost as if they were engraved on the individual's body. Those who are bestowed Schrifts, which were previously lost through death in battle and so on, are discovered from the words engraved on them and then given power.

Q282.

2022.01.24

Do Yōkai and Yōsei exist in the world of BLEACH?

A282.

It would be more fun if they did.

Q283.

2022.01.24

A color version of the BLEACH e-books exist, but does Kubo-sensei decide on the color scheme and such?

A283.

There are parts that I check and parts that I don't (I only check what my editor asks me to check), but even the parts that I do were decided upon rapidly in the intervals between my work schedule during serialization, so when I look at them afterwards, I often come to think "was this the kind of color I chose??”

Q284.

2022.01.31

Sensei, if you had the opportunity to be involved in a project in the future, what sort of creative work would you like to be involved in? (Live-action film, animated movies, manga, dramas, YouTube, etc.)

A284.

If I could get involved with the story aspect, then it would probably be a game.

Q285.

2022.01.31

If you could actually sell any kind of merchandise at the fan club shop, what kind of items would you want to sell?

A285.

Bracelets with the text from the opening poems.

Q286.

2022.01.31

Is the reason why Uryū was not affected by Auswählen connected to Uryū's grandfather?

A286.

There's a bit of a complicated setup regarding this, but it might appear in the anime adaptation of the Thousand-Year Blood War arc. (Depending on the composition.)

Q287.

2022.02.07

It has already been decided that the Thousand-Year Blood War arc is getting an anime adaptation, but will there also be an anime adaptation of the side story novels? I'd especially like to see "WE DO knot ALWAYS LOVE YOU" in the anime which depicts Rukia and Renji's marriage and the progress of Ichigo and Orihime's relationship.

A287.

Ah, I see. If there is enough room, then it may be possible.

Q288.

2022.02.07

Is it not true that Gigi is a girl? It kind of seems like Yumichika only said otherwise to provoke her.

A288.

Giselle is a man.

Q289.

2022.02.07

Who was the one to slash Rukia from behind during the first invasion by the Sternritter?

A289.

The plan is to depict this in the anime version.

Q290.

2022.02.14

Is the giant spoon used by Hikifune Kirio of Squad Zero actually her Zanpakutō?

A290.

That's correct.

Q291.

2022.02.14

During the performance of the ROCK MUSICAL BLEACH, Kubo-sensei personally talked to Tsuchiya-san, who played the role of Gin, about Gin's true intentions and purpose, as he was having a difficult time interpreting the character, and Gin's true intentions had not yet been revealed within the story at the time. I remember there was an episode which went something like that, but in so doing, did you also discuss everything which occurred with regard to Rangiku and Aizen? Also, did you not have any reluctance to divulge information which has not yet been revealed in the story?

A291.

I feel that we talked about things like how Gin viewed each character rather than the story itself. If it is necessary for the performance, then there is a possibility that I may also convey undisclosed information to the voice actors so it's not limited to this particular occasion.

Q292.

2022.02.14

Is the "table with English language BLEACH quotes suspended inside its transparent legs" which you wrote about in the cover flap comment of Volume 44, still being used? I would love to see photos of sensei's favorite furniture and more!

A292.

I use it when I'm composing my drafts at home. The tabletop is in disarray, so I hope a photo of the legs will do.

Q293.

2022.02.21

With regard to the role of a Shinigami, it involves cleansing Hollows of their sins by way of a Zanpakutō and sending them to Soul Society in peace, but was this role simply to extinguish Hollows until Nimaiya Ōetsu showed up?

A293.

It was only after the creation of the Gotei 13 that the role of a Shinigami was properly defined.

Q294.

2022.02.21

At what age did Chad get his tattoo? Was it when he moved to Mexico? Or did he get it inked in his own hometown in Okinawa? I would be grateful if you could tell us.

A294.

He got his tattoo in Mexico when he was 9 years old.

Q295.

2022.02.21

I heard that the Lost Agent of the Shinigami arc concluded earlier than planned, is that true? If so, I'd like you to tell us about the story you were actually planning to write.

A295.

You mean the rumor that I was planning to compose an episode for all the classmates but I got bored and decided against it? If so, then it's true. I feel like I mentioned that in a character book or something.

Q296.

2022.02.21

Have you ever wanted to draw Oiroke manga? (*Manga with light erotic content.)

A296.

I'm not confident that I'd be able to draw it well.

Q297.

2022.02.28

In the BLEACH PS2 game "Bleach: Erabareshi Tamashii", techniques such as "Hadō #20: Shōtenkyū" and "Hadō #26: Gōensai" made an appearance, but were these Kidō Kubo-sensei's ideas or the creations of the game staff? If it's the former, I'd also like to know how to write it in kanji!

A297.

I had no involvement with that so they're the creations of the game staff.

Q298.

2022.02.28

I really love the relationship between Ichigo and the store manager, Unagiya Ikumi, and you can sense in the air how Ichigo suddenly turns back into a child. Please tell us if there was anything you paid extra attention to when creating Ikumi-san.

A298.

Ikumi is a character that was born because I wanted to create a place for Ichigo where he could be himself outside the Kurosaki home due to a plot development, that is, the sudden loss of a place where he belongs in the Lost Agent arc.

Q299.

2022.02.28

In "BURN THE WITCH", it seems that each division is armed with a different type of weapon, but in the event that they change affiliations, like how Bruno encouraged the witches to do in the story, do they undergo training with new weapons?

A299.

They train with new weapons. It is also among the Director's faculties to ascertain an individual's suitability for a weapon and then offer an invitation to them.

Q300.

2022.03.07

Is the thing under Hisagi's left eye, tape? A tattoo perhaps?

A300.

It's a tattoo.

Translation Footnotes:

×1. 弦 means bowstring and is in both the names of Sōken (宗弦) and Ryūken (竜弦).

169 notes · View notes

separatist-apologist · 9 months

Text

My Whole Life Is Ruined

Summary: When you hold me, it holds me together, and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Surprise @talons-and-teeth! I'm sorry for the wait- I was not your original secret santa. I pulled this together based on what I know about you and I hope you like it! @acotargiftexchange

Big thanks to @octobers-veryown for making a moodboard with practically no instructions other than one Taylor Swift lyric and the description "Azriel has been hiding the fact he's Gwyn's mate and they have sex about it."

Insomnia was nothing new.

Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d fully slept through the night. The past chased the present, running in circles as she ran after her tail, almost grasping it before she woke covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Sometimes, bathed in nothing but moonlight, Gwyn wondered if there would ever come a time when she didn’t dream of her sister, of a life long gone.

It didn’t rattle her as badly as it used to. Sitting in the bed Nesta had so graciously offered up, Gwyn pushed the blankets from her legs to let the cool, winter air caress her overheated skin. Leaving the library still felt like a picked over wound. She didn’t want to go back, cloistered away from her friends and the life she’d begun to enjoy living. That didn’t mean she wasn’t scared.

Anxiety seemed to thrum beside her heartbeat, a constant presence she could only just shake if she was otherwise occupied. Right then, in the dead of night, Gwyn felt it snake around her until it was wrapped tight around her throat, choking a scream that always seemed so close to escaping.

She didn’t bother changing out of her thin nightdress, certain neither Cassian or Nesta would be up this late. If they were even back—they’d gone to Hewn City that evening for some meeting with a Day Court prince, giving Gwyn full run of the House of Wind. Not that she did anything terribly interesting with all that power—Gwyn got a book and some hot chocolate and spent the night curled in a chair reading until she finally dragged herself into bed.

Maybe she should have trained on the roof first. Really worn herself down so her brain was too exhausted to conjure up memories of the past, all the while whispering of how she might have prevented it, if she’d only been stronger, smarter, cleverer. Forcing her to relive it, to pick it apart to see what could have been different.

That was exhausting, too.

Cold air hit her the moment she pushed open the door, howling a greeting that might have scared someone else off. Gwyn liked the biting cold, the raucous yelling, the silhouette of the mountains looming like shadows in the distance. A half moon poured light over the rooftop, causing sleeping weapons to glint beneath. Maybe, she thought ruefully, she should have put on socks. Hair caught against her lips, and as Gwyn worked to push it out of her face, wishing for a hair tie, too.

It wasn’t too late and yet she was already here, wasn’t she? Might as well just power through, ignoring her discomfort like she was so accustomed to. The bite of cold was a reminder she’d survived—she was alive. So what if it burned a little? Sometimes Gwyn thought she fought better when she was in pain.

And more often than not, she suspected she deserved to feel it. That the curling peace was a mistake and everyone was going to realize what an imposter she was. They’d tell her she didn’t belong with them and cast her back out. Gwyn was always just waiting for it, a hammer that might fall at any given moment.

A blade just against her neck, never quite striking.

Gwyn pulled out a dagger, her favored weapon, and held it for a moment in her hand. Nesta was all brute strength, and Emerie terrifying yet easy grace, but Gwyn liked to be the shadow in the dark. The knife at someone's side rather than a screaming sword coming for a person's throat. While Nesta and Emeries radiated the kind of beauty that made men cower, Gwyn liked to think she was sweeter, more unassuming. People looked at Nesta, at Emerie, and were taken by their perfection.

They looked at Gwyn and wondered why she was with them. So Gwyn trained harder, made herself someone that couldn’t be ignored. Not forever, anyway. She was good at hiding, besides, taking to trees, blending into the background so often that on more than one occasion, Cassian and Nesta didn’t realize Gwyn was in the room until she cleared her throat.

Unbalanced, Gwyn took a second dagger and for a moment, was the wind itself. Recalling the movements Azriel had been teaching her, Gwyn stepped like a dance, twisting her body and slashing her blades against invisible foes.

A real ones, too. A shadow moved from the edge of the ring, catching her by surprise. Gwyn darted, and just as Azriel had taught her, grabbed them, slamming their body to the ground. It was thunder the way that massive, familiar form crashed against the world, a mighty god dragged from the heavens themselves.

Azriel groaned, eyes closed even as his hands grabbed her waist, holding her knee painfully against his ribs. “That was good,” he gasped, fingers curling into her skin.

“I’m so sorry,” she replied, dropping the blade she’d pressed to his throat. A thin line of blood snaked over golden, tattooed skin, staining the rather lovely black jacket he was wearing. Why was he up here, she wondered? Shouldn’t he be enjoying himself with his friends and family?

Azriel swallowed hard, opening hazel eyes that cut through the otherwise oppressive dark to look at her.

“I’m not.”

And then he released her, letting her scramble backwards, heart thumping in her chest. Azriel didn’t move, wings spread wide around against the ground. He looked like a fallen angel and Gwyn was awed at the sight, the realization that it had been her who’d felled him. He was looking right back at her, his expression clouded by shadow. Was he angry? He said he wasn’t, but surely he didn’t appreciate being assaulted in his own home.

Not that she saw much of him since she’d moved in. Azriel, who maintained a bedroom in the House of Wind, was suddenly gone and when Gwyn was really down, she sometimes thought it was because he didn’t like being around her. Here he was, though, clambering to his feet, his eyes sliding down her body. She could feel the heat of them like he was touching her skin and was grateful for a sudden burst of wind hitting her like a bucket of ice water.

Careful, she warned herself.

It was hard, though. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful Azriel was. She wasn’t stupid. It didn’t hurt that in her worst moment, Azriel’s had been the very first she’d seen. A savior—a dark angel, come to wreak bloody vengeance on her sister's behalf. It had been Morrigan who’d taken her away to safety, but when Gwyn thought about how she’d escaped, she always remembered Azriel’s curved, lethal blade, sliding cleanly through the bodies of the same males who had killed her sister.

She’d always been grateful to him for it, even if she’d never tell him. He’d never once looked at her like he remembered, had never betrayed an ounce of pity. She’d expected him to say something back when he’d first joined their training, wary and distant. And maybe he knew, because he kept his distance until it was safe, had held himself at an arm's length and let her decide how much or little of him she wanted.

The problem was Azriel himself. Outside of being the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, he was just nice. Not in the way Cassian was, with big smiles and silly jokes, but with serious eyes and a dagger in hand, forcing her to move again and again and again. Your steps are off, Gwyn—you’ll get yourself killed that way. Eyes on your opponent, don’t look away. Hold your breath, don’t let them know you’re there.

Because he knew it mattered to her. That she wouldn’t be caught off guard ever again, that Gwyn would never let someone hurt her. Often, she wondered if he didn’t understand that pain, if it didn’t mirror some tragedy of his own. They didn’t talk about it—they didn’t need to. It was an understanding between them, something so intimate she would never share it with another living soul.

She kept waiting for Azriel to step back, to tell her she’d done enough, that she should finish with Cassian. He never did. Even when he was gone, Gwyn practiced knowing he’d want to see the progress she’d made while he was gone. And when he returned, he’d wait on the roof even when she’d flippantly told him it would be easier to just send word via letter.

I don’t mind waiting.

Those words still felt so charged to her. Like he was trying to say something else, eyes glittering and bright like the stars overheard. Gwyn pulled herself from her thoughts to look up at Azriel looming overhead, his wings flared around him as if he was trying to make himself seem larger. It was working—he was massive, muscular and tall and just like before, half fallen angel, half terrifying god come to earth so he might reign.

“You look cold,” Azriel commented, caught looking at her.

Gwyn put her hands on her hips. So what if he was? “I’m not.”

“Bullshit.”

Smothering a smile, Gwyn asked with faux outrage, “Are you calling me a liar?”

She swore the corners of his lips twitched. “To your face, even.”

“The cold doesn’t bother me,” Gwyn said, shifting from one leg to another, a gesture he seemed to register with sharp-eyed interest. Proof, she realized as his fingers began making quick work of his jacket. “No, that’s not—”

“Suck it up,” was Azriel’s dark voiced response, draping the warm jacket against her shoulders, leaving himself only in a black shirt stretched over his muscular torso. His eyes slid back down to her legs, lips flattening as he realized she was without shoes, too. “You’ll catch your death out here.”

Gwyn could smell the heady, masculine scent of him coming from the fabric, her arms far too small for the large holes. Still, she didn’t protest, turning to look toward the outline of the mountains instead.

“Maybe. But what a way to go.”

“It’s hardly heroic to die from the cold,” Azriel murmured, turning to follow her gaze. Did he know what she was thinking? How they had nearly died in the blood rite, thrown in wearing only a thin night dress against well-armed warriors? She wondered if Azriel would have found that heroic, even if it had been the cold that had gotten them.

Gwyn blew out a breath, the steam of air curling between them as one of his shadows darted out, illuminated by starlight. It wasn’t the first time and she wondered if they thought she, too, had a shadow for them to interact with.

Or if it meant something else.

Something more.

“Inside,” Azriel finally said, a gust of wind ruffling his night dark hair.

“You’re fussy tonight,” she grumbled, not protesting when his fingers pressed against the small of her back, pushing her toward the door. Heat pulsated from the touch, settling low in her stomach. “Did something happen?”

Azriel pulled open the door with his free hand, his touch never quite leaving. “No. Hewn City is unchanging.”

She glanced up at him, the light softening the harsh lines of his face. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s predictable.”

“I want to see it,” Gwyn declared, though in truth she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Still, the corners of Azriel’s mouth twitched a bit, as if the whole thing amused him.

“You would devour them,” was his easy, good-natured response. “To their endless delight.”

“And yet I’ve been snubbed yet again,” she teased, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Do I file my complaint with you…or…?”

“You were spared the grating presence of Vanserra,” Azriel said, cocking his head with a half smile. “But I will pass along your discontent to the High Lord.”

“Be sure that you do,” Gwyn replied, grinning by the time Azriel deposited her into a chair in the study. He didn’t go far, sitting on the arm, his wings draped behind them. She could see the flexing muscle of his thigh beneath his well-tailored pants. If she’d wanted, she could have touched him.

It was obscene how badly she wanted to. How she had to clench her fingers to fists to keep from reaching out, well aware that Azriel would withdraw entirely and, perhaps, never speak to her again. He’d been nothing if not unfailingly polite, besides…though…he had been looking at her in the clingy, short nightdress, hadn’t he?

Just because you were cold, her mind reminded her. After all, she was still wearing his jacket. Gwyn shrugged out of it, heat blooming over her cheeks as she shoved it into his lap. There. She’d gotten to touch him without him knowing and give him back his jacket before she convinced herself to keep it.

And possibly sleep in it.

Azriel arched a dark brow, hazel eyes staring at the rumpled fabric now balled in his lap. “What did the jacket do to offend you?” he asked, taking it in broad, callused hands. He’d removed his siphons, leaving the scarred skin wholly on display. She wondered what had happened to him—and why.

If he’d ever gotten his revenge for it.

“It’s yours—that’s enough,” she replied flippantly. Holding her gaze, Azriel picked up the jacket and brought it to his nose. Time seemed to stop, frozen entirely as she watched him do this.

And he watched her, daring her to say something. She opened her mouth, gaping, only to close it.

And Azriel smiled. Broad and unrestrained, as if he were so delighted he couldn’t help himself. Tilting his head toward the roof, he murmured, “House—some tea, if you don’t mind.”

Of course the house didn’t mind. Two cups of steaming tea rattled on the coffee table before them, complete with sugar and honey, if either of them wanted it.

Gwyn didn’t think she could pick up a cup without betraying the rattle of her hands. Why? Azriel had discarded the jacket casually, tossing it to another chair like it was uninteresting to him. And was he closer, now? His thigh was, she was certain, but had his arm always been behind her. If she moved a few inches, he could have slid into the seat to join her.

He could pull you into his lap if he wanted.

Which, of course, he didn’t

Didn’t he?

“Why are you here?” she asked, hating that breathless quality of her voice. Azriel heard it, too, head snapping to the side, nose flared as though searching for something she couldn’t place.

“I like to be near you,” he replied. He could have thrown her across the room and surprised her less. Once again, Gwyn opened her mouth only for no sound to leave her throat.

“You—you’re never here,” she finally managed. Azriel leaned forward, the faelights gilding the dark ink of his tattoos scrawled over his biceps. He took one of the cups and handed it to her, fingers brushing her own.

“I can’t stand being around you,” was his maddening, level response.

Gwyn’s stomach sank. “What?”

She couldn’t drink—not when such a strange admission hung between them. Azriel, so unused to verbosity, was now forced to explain himself. It occurred to her just as he turned fully to look at her, some of the color drained from his otherwise beautiful face, that perhaps he wanted this confrontation. She didn’t, though, and wished she could have told him so. Things were fine between them—distant, maybe, and filled with a lopsided yearning on her end, but that was better than whatever he was about to do.

Gwyn had the distinct feeling Azriel was about to crush her. Emotionally ruin her. Destroy her so recklessly there would be no coming back.

“You still don’t feel it?” he asked instead, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “After all this time?”

A new fear speared through her gut. There was only one thing Azriel could possibly feel—and one thing she could possibly not. Gwyn had to set the shaking cup of tea down before bolting from her chair, arms wrapped around her chest.

“You don’t feel anything,” she declared, deciding if she felt nothing, neither did Azriel.

Pain lanced across his expression, replaced by grim determination. As he stood, Gwyn knew Azriel wasn’t going to let it go until they both felt exactly as he did—until she felt the mating bond.

Gwyn shook her head, backing away as he advanced. “Don’t do this, Azriel—”

“Is it that terrible, then?” he asked her, his low words filled with a familiar emotion. One she recognized all too well—the loathing, the self-hatred, the expectation that of course she would reject him.

“It’s—” Gwyn couldn’t breathe for the closeness of him, for the wanting to touch him. And maybe she did feel it, in her way. Had felt it the moment he’d strode into that cursed, wrecked room looking like the god of vengeance. She’d merely been too hurt to know it, too broken, too emotionally devastated. He should have frightened her and he never had.

Even then, towering over her with his muscular frame, Gwyn didn’t flinch away. She merely met his gaze with blazing defiance.

“You’re wrong,” she told him, keeping her voice light as she pushed at his chest so she could slip around him. “Or mistaken. There is no bond and I’m certain if you saw a healer, they’d—” Azriel grabbed her wrist, spinning her so her back was pressed to the floral papered wall behind her. Dipping his head, Azriel ran his nose the length of her neck.

“You’re no mistake, Gwyn.”

“I am,” she whispered without meaning to. Azriel could do so much better. Surely…surely he wanted better. What had that been like for him, she wondered, and before she could stop herself, she added, “When did you feel it?”

Something primal flared in those bright eyes of his. “Dinner with Nesta and Cassian. You touched my hand and I…” Holding up the offending hand, Azriel flexed his fingers in memory. “I felt the snap.”

That had been almost a year. It had been the last time Azriel had dinner with all of them, and right after she’d formally moved into the House of Wind. Gwyn still remembered that night—Azriel had bolted before dessert, murmuring something about needed to talk to Rhys. Gwyn had thought nothing of it—might never have thought about it again had he not pinned her against a wall to declare that had been the moment he’d felt a mating bond snap.

“We’ve been training together for months,” she replied with no small amount of outrage. He’d been keeping this secret for that long?

“I thought you’d feel it,” Azriel all but growled, eyes bouncing over her face. “And when you didn’t…”

“Rhys knows?”

“And Cassian—”

“So Nesta, too?!”

Gwyn shoved him again, harder this time. Azriel let her, she suspected, stepping back so she could have some breathing space. “They all know but I don’t.”

“And you’re taking the knowledge so well,” Azriel replied with a bite of sarcasm.

She whirled, wishing she had a dagger in hand even has the dried blood from his healed wound still taunted her. “I think I deserved to know before Cassian.”

“I needed his help,” Azriel admitted, running a hand over his mouth. “I needed to know how he managed it.”

“How difficult could it be,” she asked flippantly, intending to leave him there so she could think. Foolish to turn her back on a predator. Azriel had her again, wrapped in one strong arm, the other holding her jaw so she had to look at him.

“Hell,” he rasped, his anguish plain. “Every minute of it has been hell.”

In Gwyn’s defense, she managed one, final, protest. “It’s just—”

His mouth covered hers before she could finish that statement, could say what they both knew she’d been thinking. As if he found the words so abhorrent he wouldn’t hear them, would swallow them until he’d snuffed them from their very existence.

Gwyn forgot what she’d been about to say at all. She’d thought about what it might be like to kiss him. If his mouth would be soft or rough, if he kissed like he fought or if there was passion bubbling beneath his icy exterior. She hadn’t been prepared for what it would feel like or how desire would overtake her so thoroughly she didn’t care about anything else. Were those her hands cupping his neck? Her lips hungrily kissing him back like a crazed, desperate creature?

Her tongue meeting his own, her legs moving until he had her back against the wall so he could press the length of his body against hers?

There was only one thought in her name, an echo repeated over and over. Mate. Mate. Mate.

Maybe he should have just kissed her at that dinner. Skipped the yearning, the anguish, the uncertainty. At least they would have been kissing, anyway. Gwyn forgot herself entirely, nails digging against his shoulder until Azriel helpfully hoisted her into the air so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

“Don’t talk about my mate like that,” he panted, dragging his teeth against her neck. “I love her.”

Gwyn whimpered. What did she say to that? As it turned out—nothing. Azriel kissed her again, sparing them both whatever incoherent nonsense might have tumbled from her lips. She might have sworn she loved him too, if only to convince him to keep kissing her like he was.

Gwyn was certain Azriel’s kiss had ruined her life. How was she supposed to go back to things as they were before? It wasn't knowing that he was her mate, but knowing the way his hands felt cupped against her face and the way wildfire sparked in her blood when his tongue slid into her mouth?

The worst of it was when his hands left her ass, letting her slide down the hard slab of his body before she was ready. He pulled away, lips swollen and eyes wild, to take a healthy step away from her, though it seemed to take an immense amount of effort. For her part, she kept herself pressed to the wall, unsure what was happening.

“You know now,” Azriel managed, his voice hoarse, “and that’s…that’s all I wanted. I ah…I should go before—”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, strangely hurt by this new rejection. Gwyn knew all about mating bonds. What fae didn’t? Before she’d come here, she’d once dreamt of her own mate, giggling with her sister in their bunks as they imagined what that person might be like. If they existed at all, given the rarity of such a thing. It was almost funny that he’d been right here all along, close enough she could literally touch.

And he was going to leave? He didn’t want to accept it? Did she? It was all happening so fast but of course you didn’t reject a mate. She could see the wariness on his face, could watch in real time as he pulled up his defenses as she realized that yes. That was exactly his expectation.

Why? She knew from Nesta’s stories that Azriel was well sought after. And she wasn’t blind. What female didn’t dream of a male with his bone structure? He was powerful and close to the High Lord, and beyond all that, Azriel was kind. A genuinely good person, the sort of male one could spend centuries with if they wanted.

What could she even offer him? Gwyn’s thoughts raced, listing all the reasons he ought to have stopped, why keeping this a secret made so much sense. She didn’t notice Azriel creeping closer and closer until his fingers were under her chin, lifting her face so she had to look at him.

“You’re doing it again,” he murmured, his voice dark and dangerous. “Thinking unkind thoughts about my mate.”

“You can’t tell me what to think,” she shot back, her own voice trembling a little. He was so certain, so unbothered and in her entire life, had anyone ever immediately felt that way about her?

Nesta and Emerie. Catrin.

Azriel.

“You have it all wrong,” Azriel murmured and she wondered if perhaps he could read her mind. “It is you who could do so much better.”

His words drew a gust of laughter from her lips. The mother had certainly chosen well, putting the two of them together. What a pair—she wondered who would relent first? Her, or Azriel? Who would believe they deserved a mating bond first? It occurred to Gwyn, as she reached for his arm to pull him closer, that she was a shade too competitive—she wanted it to be him who broke first. Who relented first, who believed he was worthy, was deserving.

And she could see, from that golden glint burning in his own gaze, that he was thinking the exact same thing.

“You’re stupid,” she whispered, surging up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She could taste the smile spreading over his face, sweet against the warm heat of his mouth. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to realize he wasn’t smiling because she’d told him to stop talking, but because she was kissing him. Gwyn hadn’t even considered not kissing.

He was her mate, after all. He was hers. She felt that the way she felt her own heart, the possession, the desire, the heat. She didn’t feel the cord the way everyone spoke of, but perhaps that was mere metaphor. After all, Gwyn believed Azriel wouldn’t lie to her about something so life altering.

Besides. She liked kissing him, new as it was. Azriel was unhurried and thorough, just like every other task she’d ever seen him undertake. And for the first time in a long time, she wondered what it would be like if he paid her that sort of attention in the bedroom. They stood there like that, his arm keeping her on her toes, steady against his warm, solid body. Momentarily, Gwyn wondered what might happen if Nesta and Cassian were to come in and decided she didn’t care.

How many times had she walked in on them in far more compromising positions, besides?

Tiny steps had Gwyn flush against the wood wall, pressed against Azriel’s hard body and oh. He wanted her. Wanted her in a way that emptied her mind of all other thought beyond the desire to touch him.

And she was allowed, she realized with giddiness. He belonged to her. It was a possessive thought that overrode everything else, including all her good sense. He was hers.

“Mine,” she whispered into his mouth, not meaning to. Azriel groaned, tangling a hand in her hair to tilt back her head, his tongue delving back between her teeth to really taste her. Without the leathers he usually wore, it was surprisingly easy to find the golden buttons on his jacket, undoing them before Azriel’s own brain seemed to catch up with what was happening.

His wings flared, enveloping around them for a moment as he pulled back, his breathing heavy.

“Cassian will be home soon,” he whispered, holding her close against him as if he expected his friend to take her away. “Nesta too.” “You have a bedroom here, right?” Gwyn said with more daring than she felt. Azriel’s once half-lidded eyes flew open, those hazel eyes searching her own.

“I do,” he whispered, swallowing audibly. “There’s no rush—”

“Please?”

One moment she’d been standing there, her hand flat against the white, linen shirt Azriel wore beneath his jacket and the next her feet were in the air, her body cradled against him as he walked.

“I can’t think when you’re around,” Azriel was saying, his steps echoing against the wood. “Can’t think just looking at you. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and this will have all been a dream.”

“It’s real,” she replied, pressing her lips to his neck. “I’m real. We’re real.”

He shuddered, all but running up a flight of stairs. There was no reaction when his wing clipped a door frame nor did he say a word when he had to use his nice shoe to slam his bedroom door shut. Gwyn wasn’t given the opportunity to really look around his space, either—though it seemed sparse and filled with dark, moody colors.

Azriel had her on the bed, his own body over top her own before she could exhale the breath she’d just taken.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, the maddening male. She would have told him she didn’t want him to, but he was kissing her again, his burning lips all but bruising her own. Drawing a leg up, Gwyn could line up their otherwise mismatched bodies so he was pressed exactly where she wanted him.

They were going to do this. She wanted to do this. When she managed to take a breath, the taste of blood faint against her tongue, she rasped, “Take this off.”

Azriel was on his knees in a moment, shucking off his jacket before all but ripping off his shirt, too. There in the dark with nothing but silvery moonlight to illuminate him, Gwyn was allowed to really look at him.

He didn’t move, a lock of dark hair half obscuring the intensity of his gaze. “All of it,” she decided before she lost her nerve.

Azriel cocked his head, his lips pursed as though he’d tell her no.

“Please,” she added.

Azriel groaned again, softer this time. Somewhere in the house, a door slammed closed and a mingling of male and female voices rose like music, a soothing hum in the background as Azriel slid off the bed entirely.

Wings tucked tightly against his toned back, he quietly locked his door before turning back to her. “We don’t have to,” he said, his fingers hovering over the laces of his pants. Gwyn had a suspicion Azriel would spend the next century saying this and she’d spend the next century reassuring him that she wanted all of it. All of him.

Maybe he’d realize in the morning when she snuck into the kitchen and begged the house for his favorite meal. She had no idea what it was, but surely the magic that governed this place did? Would he eat it from her hands? Or would he balk, certain this was just another dream?

“I know,” she said, leaning up on her elbows. “Take it all off, anyway.”

Gwyn knew what Azriel was wondering but her past was murky—forgotten in the dark, the ugly replaced with his easy, unassuming beauty. Still, she held her breath as he undressed entirely, drinking in the sight of him. This was the male she’d knocked to the ground, the very same that could kill another person without a second thought.

Underneath the thick, armored leathers and weapons lay just a male made of skin and bone. Gwyn’s eyes traced the tattoos adorning his shoulders and chest, the intricate swirls snaking up his neck and vanishing behind his back. Every inch of him was muscled, softer now that he was relaxed and still present just below the warm brown of his flesh.

And between his legs…

Gwyn giggled. She couldn’t help herself. It was so big—surely they weren’t supposed to be that large? That thick? There was an air of male pride shimmering around him, his legs spread a little wider as if to say, drink it all in.

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, his voice a dark, teasing growl. Prowling forward, Gwyn’s heart spiked loud enough he must have heard.

“I wasn’t prepared for…” For what? For him? Azriel was so quiet, so unassuming…she just assumed if he had all that going on he’d brag a little more? Swagger about the way Cassian always was?

“I’d be a poor mate if I left you wanting,” he replied, his eyes glazed over once his knees hit the edge of the bed. Perhaps it was the sight of her, still dressed, scrambling on her hands and knees so she could crawl toward him. She just wanted to touch, to feel if his cock was as hard as it looked.

Azriel sucked in a breath when her fingers curled around the base of his shaft, just barely touching. Looking up, she murmured, “Is this what you like?”

“I like you,” he replied, scooping up her hair in his hands as Gwyn stroked him experimentally. He choked out a sound, his heartbeat thudding in her ears. She supposed that was her answer—he liked the way she touched him.

Pride filled her chest knowing she could please her mate, even with something as simple as touching him. Gwyn stroked again, letting her wrist twist at the end as her eyes refused to leave his face.

“Gods,” he whispered, his wings tightening against his back. “I’ve imagined…Gwyn…”

She was allowed a third pass before he pushed her back, her clothes pulled off her body so quickly all she managed was to lift her hips and raise her arms.

“Do you know how many nights I’ve laid in this exact bed and imagined you just like this?” Azriel began, his voice a dark, sultry whisper. “Splayed out…naked…undone?”

“No,” she squeaked out in response, half embarrassed to be undressed before him. Azriel’s gaze burned against her skin, warming a path from her collarbone to her thighs.

“Would you like to know what I dream about at night?” he questioned, sinking to his knees so he was eye level with the edge of the bed.

Arousal ribboned through her, making a fool out of her. “Yes,” she replied, strangely excited to be the object of this man’s fantasies.

Strong, scarred fingers curled around her thighs, pushing them wider before hooking them over his shoulders. He was staring at her cunt, now, studying her like she was some priceless piece of art.

“I dream of tasting you,” Azriel breathed, the warmth of his breath fanning against her. Gwyn squirmed when he kissed her inner thigh—the left, and then the right—before using his tongue to lightly take that first taste he’d been dreaming of. Gwyn might have asked him how he liked it had it not felt so good.

Besides, she knew he liked it—Azriel groaned loudly, spreading her apart wider with his fingers so he could taste her everywhere. Gone was his slow exploration, his desire to take his time. All of it had been replaced with the animal kneeling between her legs, licking and touching her cunt like his life depended on it.

All traces of her embarrassment evaporated, leaving only instinct behind. Gwyn surrendered to the urge, letting desire wash over her until it was all she knew. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, well aware he probably couldn’t.

Azriel pushed a finger into her gently, moaning at whatever he felt. Gwyn hadn’t considered what it would feel like to share space with him—to feel him inside her own body but now…

“Az,” she panted, her hips rolling against his mouth and hand. She wanted him to stop licking, to replace his fingers with his cock. Heat was building in her chest beyond simple arousal, heavy like a chain.

Unbreakable.

A bond. A real thread she could follow straight to the male between her legs. It reverberated and then snapped just as Azriel sucked her clit into his mouth, eliciting a scream that was half his name. Could he feel it too? No—his had snapped months ago and he’d just been living with it.

Gwyn couldn’t see how. If she didn’t have him right that second she might go insane. Reaching for his powerful biceps, Gwyn tried to pull him off her but the waves of pleasure made her hands shake.

“Az,” she tried again, his name a breathy moan against her lips. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against him in what must have seemed like encouragement to keep going. Maybe it was—she didn’t try very hard to get him off her.

Azriel managed a third finger, a whine slipping from his throat at the effort. Gwyn just barely registered any of it, her body jerking a second time from pleasure so bright and heady she could have died from it. It was too much—Gwyn was burning, was in free-fall with no one to catch her.

Digging her nails into his skin, she yanked at him. Azriel emerged, lips wet and eyes wild. “Please,” she heard herself saying, the magic words that, apparently, could convince him to do anything she wanted. “I need you.”

His fingers were wet as they skimmed the side of her body, palm grasping her breast before his lips found hers. He tasted sweet and she supposed it was herself, truly, she was tasting on his tongue. He was hurried, his desperation making him sloppy. When his teeth clashed with her own, nipping the sensitive skin of her bottom lip, Gwyn had enough.

“Az—”

“Don’t beg me,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against her own. Caressing her cheek, Azriel added, “I’ll do whatever you want. You don’t have to beg.”

“I feel it,” she replied, running her hand up and down his spine. “It’s a real thread.”

Azriel exhaled with relief, a smile ghosting his pretty face. Whispering something that sounded like gratitude toward the gods, he adjusted his body until she felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against her. How had he stood it? The waiting, the wanting, the utter need that Gwyn was all but drowning in. If they didn’t do this, she thought she might die from it.

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you.” It wasn’t a request, though Gwyn had no intention of telling him anything. She expected a little pain, expected little pleasure. Why else had he used his mouth first?

Gwyn had read enough books to know that there was blood and pain and so when Azriel slid himself an inch into her, she braced herself against him, her nails digging into his biceps. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for even a hint of discomfort. There was something reassuring about knowing he’d stop if she wanted. That he cared if she enjoyed herself.

Gwyn didn’t need a book to know not all males cared about such things.

Azriel took his time—like he knew he had eons of it, that he didn’t have to rush. Gwyn loved him for it, eyes burning with unshed tears at the thought. She’d tell him all this later, when they’d had a chance to breathe and eat and really talk about everything that had otherwise been left unsaid. Instead she dragged her lips down his neck and focused on the feeling of his cock in her body, pushing further and further without any of the accompanying pain she’d expected.

She was slick enough that he felt less like an intrusion and more like a welcomed guest, and once he’d seated himself entirely, it seemed as though they’d been made like two puzzle pieces destined to fit.

It took a moment to get used to the stretch, to breathe despite the feeling of fullness. Azriel gave it to her instinctively, as if he knew exactly what she both wanted and needed. There was that same sense of I have all the time in the world, despite her knowing he was desperate. A bead of sweat slid from his temple, rolling down his neck and his arms shook from restraint.

He didn’t move.

Not until her mouth made its way to his collarbone and she whispered, “Give me more.” He groaned loud enough to shatter the silence, pulling himself out with a slowness that bordered on madness.

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck. “I’m losing my mind.”

She couldn’t help the exhaled smile, raking her fingers through his hair. “Did you dream of this, too?”

“No,” he admitted with a grunt, sliding his cock back into her body. “I didn’t dare.”

“Why?”

“Couldn’t,” he managed, thrusting again with a little more intensity. “Would have gone crazy from wanting you. Surprised you couldn’t smell it on me.”

As if she would have known what she was smelling. There was no point in telling him so—not as Azriel confessed the depths of his devotion, the lengths he’d gone to give her time, space, and whatever else she’d wanted. Would he have continued to do so forever?

Gwyn kissed his cheek. “I want you. I want this.”

He groaned again, sliding his hand between their otherwise flushed bodies to rub at her still swollen clit. She’d been half distracted by his words to pay attention to her body but right then, when his thumb began making tight circles, Gwyn was pulled back under the depths of shadowed darkness, half consumed by the male laying on top of her.

Their mouths met, messy and unrestrained. Strange how kissing merely heightened the pleasure coiling through her—Gwyn wouldn’t have guessed that. In her books, everything was so neat and clinical. They kissed, they touched, they fucked with nothing in between. In real life, sex was messier, more fluid. Or maybe she and Azriel merely had more passion than the people in her stories.

Those love stories had once brought her such joy. Now they seemed dimmed in comparison to what was happening to her and her own feelings.

“I need to feel you come,” he whispered, betraying how close he must have been. Gwyn felt the same way. She needed to feel him, needed to see him wholly unraveled. All because of her—no one else was allowed to know what he sounded like, what he looked like. They got control, they got the ice but she got the heat, the impulsivity—everything he was, everything he’d ever been.

Gwyn came to the thought of that future, tightening around him as her back arched her into his chest, offering very little give. Azriel kissed her, swallowing the sound of her moans greedily. They belonged to him, anyway.

He came mere seconds later, his own noise of pleasure delightfully loud for a male that was so often silent. Gwyn kept herself wrapped tight around him, arms winding against his neck, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. His pumping was erratic, uncontrolled and a little desperate. Gwyn was obsessed with this side of him—wanted more of it.

Azriel didn’t withdraw when he was done, his heart thudding against her breast. “It’s not enough, is it?” she whispered, thinking they both ought to feel sated. She didn’t. In her books, the heroine was always spent, the hero falling asleep not long after. The pair would wake in each other's arms, content and glowing from the night before.

Gwyn wanted to shove him to the floor and climb atop him. Wanted to hear him beg, too—wanted more of the whimpering, the groaning and everything in between.

“It was never going to be,” he panted, kissing her softly.

“How long will it last?” she wondered, brushing a damp lock of hair from his face.

“Eternity, I imagine,” he replied, his eyes burning with that same unflinching intensity. “For me, at least.”

Gwyn’s heart exploded, racing in her throat. “Are you hungry?” she whispered, deciding she couldn’t wait for the morning. She wanted to do this right now. Wanted him to know that this meant something to her, even if she was scared, too.

Azriel went still. “There’s no rush—”

“That’s yes or no, Azriel.”

A smile broke over his face. “Starving,” he admitted in that dark, sultry voice.

“You have to get up,” she reminded him, pushing half-heartedly at his shoulder. Azriel lowered his mouth for another kiss.

“In a minute.”

Strange how a minute could stretch.

Into lifetimes, even.

#gwynriel #I DID IT

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thedelusionreaderbitch · 9 months

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Poly! Kanej x gn! Reader - Bound to one another

A/n: This was a fun one to write, and originally it was going to be longer (kaz and inej are barely in it lol) but my trail of thought for this one ended. Regardless, I hope you all still like it!

Summary: As an anniversary gift, Inej gifts the three of you matching knives with your titles on them. You are confused by yours.

Warnings: killing, swearing, kidnapping, slavers, the slave trade in the grishaverse, violence, not too graphic gore, I think that's it? You have been warned!

The three P's:

[Pov: 2nd person] [Pronouns used: you/your] [Pairings: (poly!) (romantic!) kanej x reader]

As always, not my gif

It had been a week before your anniversary and Inej (despite the three of you agreeing not to) had decided to gift each of you a knife. As she claimed she wasn't going to be back from the seas until the day after so she had to give it to you now.

They looked the same to the unassuming eye - cold, black, slick, grisha steel daggers. Yet every one of them had a name forged onto the blade that you could only see under certain lights.

Inej's inscribed Queen of Thieves, Kaz had Crow King, and yours was Ketterdam's Ruler.

At first yours had confused you, Inej's made sense, she really was the queen of thieves, and Kaz's was just bluntly obvious but yours seemed to always escape your mind any time you felt close to an answer. How could you be the ruler of Ketterdam, when there was already a crowning king and queen?

Even after being with the two of them after all this time doubts like this always clouded your mind, they were after all together before you ever came into the picture. What if the frame didn't fit with you in it? What if Ketterdam didn't need another Monarch?

Then the doubts would quell when Kaz would brush his hand against yours, or when Inej would slide you a book that you wanted to get and hadn't even mentioned it to her yet.

Of course they didn't disappear, like Inej they were never truly gone, but right now you had more pressing issues.

"Y/n, you need to get out of here." Kaz hissed at you as the both of you had your bodies pressed up against a wall as you peaked around to check if there were any guards.

This time it wasn't a merchant's mansion where you were going to steal some jewel, or other valuable. This wasn't even a heist, originally you had gone alone but Kaz had tailed you to the slaver's house and now he had decided to show himself.

Another reason you weren't truly in rank with your lovers, you couldn't pin point their presences when they could do it with each other.

The reason you were at this slaver's house was actually your girlfriend's and boyfriend's anniversary present.

"Why did you follow me Kaz." You growl back quietly as you see the guards go through their next rotation.

"Inej is back."

Shit.

How could you forget that Inej was coming back today? The day where the three of you were having your unofficial anniversary nonetheless! Although that was the whole reason why you were here, yet it didn't push down your disappointment in yourself. The three of you had made a pact that you were not allowed to go on any jobs the day Inej comes back from the seas. Of course you were the one to break it.

Though, you weren't technically on a job.

"This is important Kaz, tell Inej I'll be there in an hour."

Ouch, that would hurt your plan a bit but you would stick to it nevertheless. You wouldn't let them down more than you already had.

"No."

You took a quick glance at Kaz to see his face glaring back at you before you looked back and saw your opening.

"I promise this isn't a job, I'll be there in an hour and if not wait thirty more minutes then you can bust me if you want."

Kaz sighed as your heartbeat quickens with the adrenaline starting to course through your veins.

"Fine, one hour."

You grinned at him before taking your opening.

His name is Ethan Sullivan, and you were going to kill him.

Your motive for killing this bastard was simple, or rather it was simple to you.

He's a slaver who not only has been getting on Inej's ass but nearly killed her. Then he captured Jesper and only let him go after he got Kaz.

While Kaz had escaped fairly quickly he still had found out your significant others weakness; each other, and now he was dangerous. Very dangerous.

Your pretty crows were waiting to find the right moment when to strike him back, but you knew he wouldn't whittle his life on a pleasantly soft sofa as he figured out the secret to take over the barrel. His plans had to be going out soon, which meant he was an admirable foe and dangerous - too dangerous. He had to be put down, permanently.

"Come here." Sullivan croaked over to you as you posed as a servant with a blanket resting over your arm. "Help me out of bed."

You had chosen the precise time where you could be alone with him, so that no one could disturb your little scheme. You even made sure to lock the door on your way in, then you would escape through his window.

Moving towards the man you felt the weight of the dagger Inej had given you weighing down your pocket.

Ketterdam's Ruler.

"Move quicker would you!" He snapped at you and it's there you make your decision.

You do move quickly, though as you do you leap on top of him and place the stygian blade to his throat.

He tries to cry out but you shush him like he's a child and press the knife close to his throat.

"Ethan Sullivan, you nearly killed the Wraith, and you captured Dirtyhands, now I'm here for vengeance."

He laughed, and it almost sent a shiver down your spine, you're sure that's the laugh many children have heard as they beg for their parents.

"I was just evening out the odds, nothing wrong about that." He grinned. "Ketterdam might just eat them alive because of it though."

Fury flashed through you, yet instead of slashing his throat right in that moment like Inej would have done, like Kaz would have finished, rather you took his throat in between your hand.

He chocked, and his eyes widened when you tightened it.

"Mercy!" He managed to chock out, the words barely leaving his purple lips.

You would grab him with an iron fist and show him what your mercy is.

What Ketterdam's mercy is.

Using your other, free hand you twirled the dagger in it and the title Inej had given you through it glared back at you, then you plunged it into his thigh.

He tried to scream but it was muffled by the hand around his throat.

"That was for my treasure Inej, she wouldn't have wanted you to suffer much."

You pulled it out and before he could even attempt to scream again you sliced open his face.

"And that." You grunted through gritted teeth. "Was for my lovely Kaz, he would have wanted you to suffer, very much."

Releasing the hand on his throat he tried to break away from your grip, but you held him down and put the dagger against his throat for the last time.

"I am Ketterdam's ruler, and this is my mercy."

Then you cut his throat.

You didn't bother to watch him chock on his own blood before you were out the window, checking your watch. You were so late, and dressed like a servant nonetheless.

Yet, the disappointment, the fury at yourself for finding yet another thing lacking that your lovers had that you did not, didn't come. You have protected your own tonight, you've sent a message to all who listen closely to the whispers of drunken shadows and barrel rats. You were Ketterdam's ruler, you ranked far above Inej and Kaz and would do anything to protect them.

The three of you were equals in this game, but when it came to their safety you had the ultimate say over this filthy city. You are Ketterdam's ruler, you keep her on line when she gets too wild, and let her off her leash when people need to pay their dues.

Like Ethan Sullivan, and you think there will be others still, that's alright with you. They will be no match for your mercy.

Words 1343

-thedelusionreaderbitch

Grishaverse taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover @brekker-zenik @alohastitch0626 @brekkers-desigirl @emmsamultifan06

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kraken17 · 6 months

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List of dimensional variants/counterparts of Enid and Wednesday introduced in my fanfiction Kooky Spooky in order of appearance.

This means that other characters that are counterparts such as Taylor Galpin, the Yoko and Weems from Agent A's dimension and the rest of the Adamos (High Fantasy Addams Family) are not on this list. Only Enids and Weds.

(Artwork from Kris6758 on Twitter)

First, those with some weight in the plot:

Eamon Sinclair (Chapter 1): Initially named in Chapter 1, with no formal appearance until Chapter 43. Eamon is a male counterpart of Enid and husband of Friday (the Wednesday from the 1973 cartoon). Basically, he is "our" Enid if she had been born male. Standard lycanthrope, though exceptionally strong.

Thursday (Chapter 9): Wednesday Thursday Addams. As Eamon, a male counterpart to Wednesday and Friday's cell neighbor. He looks identical to a teenage Gomez but with no mustache and with Fester's pallor.

Enid Saint-Clair (Chapter 19): The Enid of Woe's dimension (the Wednesday of the '90s movies). Brunette, of Greek descent and werecat rather than werewolf. Affable and nice, though with psychopathic tendencies and a love for exacerbated violence. Loves to fight people who can keep up with her. To call her "kitten" is to invite death. Better just call her “Nid”.

Agent A (Chapter 22): Wednesday Tuesday Addams. The Wednesday from a dimension gone to hell (literally). She's a grown woman in her forties, dresses like she's a MIB and is a practitioner of magic. She's also one of the few Wednesdays who doesn't make use of her pigtails or pull her hair back in any way, leaving her hair loose. If you want to put a face on her, I imagine her as Hailee Steinfeld about 16 years from now.

Wodnesdæg (Chapter 35): Lord Wodnesdæg of the House of Adamo, Prince of the Kingdom of Nova Gersia. Wod to his closest family and friends. Trans male version of Wednesday. He collects his hair in two short but thick pigtails. Likes to wear black armor that makes him look like the stereotypical Dark Lord from a fantasy novel, but first impressions aside his personality is closer to that of a Gomez Addams.

Eneit Synklar (Chapter 35): Enid's variant from Wodnesdæg's dimension and his betrothed. A barbarian and werewolf princess Enid, extremely tall and muscular, usually dressed in furs or light leather armor. Very outgoing, affable and friendly, though she lacks a bit of tact and has no qualms about breaking in half anyone who messes with her loved ones.

[UPDATE] The Bright One: SPOILERS! Read the fic 😁

Now, the ones that are more cameos:

Chapter 43:

A golden tyrannosaurus Enid and her ape-like sidekick Wednesday, inspired by the original comic book versions of Devil Dinosaur and Moon Boy.

A middle-aged futuristic soldier Enid.

A Wednesday who looks like a living marble statue with golden cracks adorning her skin and luminous white hair.

A Wednesday and Enid who look like stereotypical pirates.

Gargoyle Enid. A purple-skinned Enid with horns, tail and wings, inspired by the characters from the Disney series Gargoyles.

Chapter 45:

Cyborg-lycanthrope Enid.

Vampire Wednesday, armed with a spear.

Reverse Enid and Wednesday: A violent lycanthropic but black-furred Enid accompanied by a disturbingly extroverted blonde Wednesday.

The younglings: A group of five or six young Wednesdays, the oldest no older than seven.

Saiyan Enid: A brunette-haired martial artist Enid with ki abilities, orange robes, staff and monkey tail. Inspired by Dragon Ball, although it can be interpreted as a reference to Journey to the West as well.

Gunslinger Enid and Wednesday, as if out of a classic Hollywood Western.

Sasquatch Enid.

The witches: Two Enids, one of them in school uniform and wand-wielding, clearly inspired by the Potterverse novels/films or other similar works. The second Enid, with green skin and black clothes, pointy hat and broom is more inspired by The Wizard of Oz and Wicked.

Punk-looking Enid with cybernetic implants like blades in her arms. Inspired by Cyberpunk 2077.

Angelic Enid, alternates between a humanoid form with wings and a fire-wheel form with multiple eyes.

Hellboy Wednesday (Hellgirl?).

[UPDATE] Chapter 50:

A witch-like Enid with a talking cat familiar.

#wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wenclair #wenclair fic #wenclair fanfic #wenid #eniday #the addams family #multiverse #fanfiction #altogether ooky #kooky spooky #multiversal variants #interdimensional counterparts #archive of our own #a03 fic #ao3 link #wednesday netflix #wednesday

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itsabouttimex2 · 5 months

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Plot Idea: Azure Lion unknowingly had a child with his lover before his defeat and death at the hands of Sun Wukong. Subsequently leaving his lover (and future Cub) to live on without him. Maybe their mother passes away during their birth? The kid long out lives their human family and their friends and their village.

Alone, sad and bored they go off on their own to explore the city that they’ve heard traveler’s passing through their village speak off. Megapolis is a bit overwhelming for them at first but they come across Pigsy’s Noodles. Pigsy seeing this borderline feral kid looking in his shop hesitated on shooing them away and offers them some food, a few years later MK arrives and the rest is history…

They finally meet Azure with MK and Mei trying to get the scroll. The kid has no idea that he’s their dad and Azure is just shocked to see them. He sees both himself and his old lover in their features.

His kid feels extra betrayed and he can see it in their eyes when the group confronts the now reunited brotherhood. They are 100% on MK’s side and don’t hesitate to fight with the group.

Maybe they land some heavy enough hits the Azure has to leave them behind or maybe he’s able to capture them and force them to come along with him and his brothers. Though with their rather vicious stubbornness they might be more of a hinderance to his quest than he’d like. Maybe he traps them in the scroll and keeps them on his waist like he does with Wukong?

I’d love to hear your thoughts about this idea 💖

Leonine Love

This is a really fun (and kinda sad) idea! I’m a big fan, actually! I loved this so much that I wrote a little (admittedly, non-yandere) intro because this is such a creative and interesting story idea.

Just… Lion!Y/N being pried from the arms of their dead mother, taken in by humans who recall Azure not as a delusional tyrant but a hero, recalling his mighty blade and fondness for mortals. How he knelt to level with children, how he stopped to help with the harvest. Feeling as though they owe him, the village takes you in and raises your as their own, watching in awe as your leonine ears and tail come in, marveling at the cyan growths.

Through a few generations you grow from infant to child, just in time for the legends of your father’s exploits to be consigned from legend to rumor, and now all the love you were lavished with has turned to dust.

To these new folk you are more fixture than family, an ever-present individual that they merely accustom to.

No more praise or warm embraces, no further tales of your ‘heroic papa’. All that you know about him is written on an old scroll that none are allowed to touch. Each story has been carefully penned, allowing you to preserve the legacy of a father you’ve never met.

With that scroll, a notable stash of pilfered money, and the clothes on your back… you bid farewell to a village that is no longer home, trudging out to find somewhere new.

And what name do you hear again and again?

Megapolis.

A few kind strangers help you along the way, hikers and hermits pointing you to the illustrious city and sharing supplies with what they take as a hapless child.

It feels too much like how you were treated by the original villagers, a communal child to be cherished and loved. Still, you thank them and leave, still intent on seeing this city with your own two eyes.

Of course, you’ve spent all your life in a slow and quiet village, so nothing has prepared you for even a single neon billboard, much less an entire futuristic city of light and noise, electric sugar for the eyes and ears.

The photonic onslaught of blinding light sears your eyes, leaving you disoriented and dizzy. Your stomach turns in circles, empty and begging for food. A strange black post that reaches to the sky blares with sound, causing you to scatter into the back alleys.

Any note of wonder at the electric rainbows and thrumming music is dashed by now, leaving you to curl up and sob, paws clamped tightly over your ears. There’s no one to wipe your tears or ask you not to cry, no one to tell you to be strong and brave. All you can do is crawl into the nearest discarded cardboard box, feeling like a coward and an outcast as you weep yourself to sleep.

And you wake up in a cozy little store, wrapped up tight in a two-tone changpao. A scholar argues at the front counter, the porcine demon behind it looking at you cautiously.

“They’re starving, Pigsy! You can see their ribs poking out, can’t you?!”

“I can see that! I’m just not sure about feeding a demon, Tang…”

“You’re a demon! A pig demon!”

“No, that’s different! I am a perfectly respectable noodle-chef! Not some damn ‘pig demon’!”

Hic. Sniff.

The little pitiful noises draw their attention, looking upon your quivering form with split reactions.

The scholar is worried, clearly. There’s a kindness in his eyes that looks almost ancient, like it’s been passed from generation to generation. He nudges his… friend? Rival?

You can’t tell what their relationship is, really.

The pig isn’t unkind with his gaze or words- cautious, maybe a little nervous. But he grumbles to himself at the sight of tears, stomping off to his kitchen and turning on the stove.

“You better be right about this kid, Tang…”

The scholar- Tang, then, comes to you and ushers your shivering and scrawny form onto a chair, pulling the changpao tighter around you.

“It’s alright, dear,” his soft voice promises. “Just sit down and try to relax. We’ll get a nice bowl of noodles ready for you-“

“There’s no ‘we’ about this, Tang!” Calls Pigsy, his voice booming above the clatter of metal and the sizzle of oil.

Actually, they do remind you of something- the old couples in your village who had been together a little too long and thus grown sick of one another.

But those were always men and women, weren’t they?

Tentatively, you wipe your eyes and ask:

“Are you two married?”

———————————————————————-

“That’s how we met Y/N,” Tang cheerfully explains, patting your head as you fixate your eyes on the ground.

The child (or is he a toddler?) -MK, as your fathers are calling him, looks up at you, stumbling over to your slowly swishing tail. “Kitty,” he says, a new animal he’s learned from the children’s books that you gave him. Tang had gifted them to you not long after he had convinced Pigsy to take you in, and now you had given them to the new kid.

New. Younger. Cuter. No demonic features. No fangs or sharp pupils or sheathed claws.

Are you being replaced?

“Kitty,” the little one repeats, tugging on the cyan fur of your tail. “Meow.” The babbling of a toddler or at least a very young child, stilted and happy. “Kitty.”

“Very good,” Tang praises, clapping his hands to provide encouragement. “What other animals do you like, MK?”

You step out of the room just as the adorable little thing starts to make loud oinking noises.

The storage room is tiny, just big enough to fit a few people and a cleaning cart. It’s fortified in case of emergencies, serving as a tornado shelter. You’ve spent a few prospective storms in here, clinging to Pigsy and sniffling at the sound of blaring sirens. Thankfully, nothing bad had ever even come close to happening, and eventually you shifted to viewing it as almost a break from the world. Just you and your…

Guardian. Boss. Caretaker.

You want to add father to that list. But taking that first step is a terrifying ordeal, and would involve putting yourself through a potential rejection.

You don’t think you could recover from that.

Another person enters the storage room, one hand on your shoulder. It’s not rough or big enough to be Pigsy. Not warm enough, either.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine, Mister Tang.” Too fast. The words slur together, a falsity even by the first second you speak.

The freeloader sighs, lightly moving to tilt your chin up, meeting you eye-to-eye.

“You don’t come to hide in here when things are ‘fine’, dear. And you don’t slur your words like that, either. Why not tell me what’s wrong?”

“…do you think Pigsy likes MK better than me?”

“Wh-what? Y/N, why would you- dear, what’s going on?”

“…MK is a normal kid, isn’t he? He’s not some half-breed freak like me, and-“

“Y/N. I know you’ve been through a lot, but I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.”

A scholarly man with the build to match, Tang is far from strong. But he’s got just enough strength to pull you into his arms, letting you bury your head into the cloth covering his shoulder.

“Please, Y/N. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m scared that he doesn’t see me as his child,” you gasp out, clinging to Tang. “I’m not just his sous chef, tell me I’m not just his sous chef! Dad, please-“

“Dad?”

You break down a little further, legs giving out as your body struggles with the fearful anticipation of potential disappointment. You wait there against his chest, weeping.

“I don’t mind if you see me as a father figure, dear. If anything, I’m actually flattered. You don’t need to be worried about that.”

“Not mad?” You manage to spit out, face thoroughly drenched in your own tears.

“Not mad,” he confirms, patting your head. “Now, let’s dry those tears and get you something to eat. I talked Pigsy into making grilled cheese dumplings with canned tomato soup.”

A moment to compose yourself is taken, wiping your puffy eyes.

“Pigsy hates using canned food, though. He always says: “It’s a disgrace to my profession, using canned ingredients! There’s no alternative to fresh!” and then he’ll throw a spoon at whoever asked.”

“Well, MK loves them. And you know that Pigsy can’t say no to kids.”

And Tang was the only one who got spoons thrown at him, but he left that little bit out.

“Now, come on. Let’s get you to the bathroom to clean your face up. If Pigsy asks you can just say you got peppercorn dust in your eyes and needed a moment.”

The door opens, and you see the other half of this family, Pigsy and MK.

Family.

A real one, this time. Flaws and cons and stumbles thorned all along interwoven vines of love and adoration.

It wasn’t perfect.

But it was yours.

#Not Yandere #Yet #Lego Monkie Kid #LMK #MK #Pigsy #Tang #Noodlefam #Leonine Love

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604to647 · 8 months

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Safest with You (Ch. 10 - The Afterglow)

6.1K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: Din stays the weekend.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Smut with fluff, next day aftercare, kissing, bathing, oral (f receiving), boob slapping, unprotected PiV, slight daddy kink, slight degradation kink (discussed, Din is a respectful king), tons of pet names as usual (sweetheart, baby, pretty bird, babygirl, etc.)

A/N: This is actually a bonus chapter in that it was not in the original outline; I dunno - just really wanted to see what the day after their first time looked like 🥰 I felt a bit self conscious about the last chapter but I quite like this one! Also - even though reader calls Din "old man", there is no implied age gap. I call my husband an old man all the time and he's only 2.5 months older than me (he just acts like such a freakin' old man sometimes 😂😂)

Series Masterlist

You wake the next morning when the bed jostles lightly; opening your sleepy eyes, you blurrily make out Din getting out of bed. Taking a moment to admire the powerful muscles that lay dormant across the expanse of his back, for the first time you have the chance to see that Din has a tattoo beneath his left shoulder blade. You study it for a moment, it looks to be some sort of animal skull with a narrow head and tusks; making a note to ask Din about it later, you yawn, “Good morning.”

Din turns and smiles, crawling back onto the bed he leans in to give you a soft kiss, “Good morning, pretty bird. Sorry, was trying not to wake you.”

“I’m a light sleeper, don’t worry,” you grin lazily, still in a half-dreamy stupor from the evening before, “Are you sneaking out on me, Djarin?”

Din throws his arm over you, pinning you beneath the covers and wiggles his bear paw of a hand under you to start tickling; you shriek with laughter, trying to squirm away.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, sweetheart,” Din chuckles at your feeble attempts to escape; he stops poking and uses his hand underneath to pull you in close, kissing you with tenderness. Before the kiss can deepen, you’re both made aware of panting breaths coming from next to the bed. Turning, you smile wide at Al who was lured into the bedroom by the loud sounds of laughter and is now waiting patiently, tail wagging, to be included.

Reaching over you to rub Al’s head, Din kisses your forehead, “Baby, was going to take Al for a walk and pick up some breakfast.”

“I can come,” you start to say, before a yawn over takes you.

“Sweetheart, you rest. I’ll be back soon. Need you to be fully recovered from last night, so you can refuel… and be ready to fall apart on my cock again,” you can feel his smirk against your lips as he kisses you eagerly, conveying that he’s not yet had his fill of you. Your moan is involuntary; extricating your arms from your sheets, you wrap your arms around Din’s neck and pull him in with renewed hunger.

“Pretty bird, I should go,” Din mumbles, making no effort remove himself from your embrace.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum, more than your wakefulness starting to stir.

*Bark*

Oops. With difficulty, Din pushes himself off of you to give Al his full attention, two hands rubbing all over his furry head and ears.

When he’s left you to snuggle back under your covers, you call out, “Keys and leash are on the foyer table. There are spare toothbrushes in the guest room bathroom next to the kitchen,” before closing your eyes and letting your sleepy, arousal muddled brain take over your body.

With Al trotting by his side, Din looks back to see you already snoozing peacefully, so serene and beautiful with your hair fanned out on your fluffy pillows, and he looks down at Al to whisper, “Aren’t we lucky?” before heading out.

---

The remainder of Saturday passes comfortably and lazily.

Din comes back with breakfast sandwiches to find you making coffee. In truth, you are a little sore, and not just in your core where you expected; you silently curse yourself for all the times you dismissed Pilates as “a fad” when you feel the strain in your hips and your upper thigh crease. Though you try to hide it from Din because you know he’ll feel bad, he’s an ex-boxer trained to look for weakness in his opponent, and he picks up on your little winces as you bring over the steaming mugs to your breakfast table on the balcony.

Immediately he rushes to your side, “Pretty bird, I hurt you,” eyes worried.

“No, no, I’m okay – I’ve been neglecting my yoga,” you joke, but make sure to kiss him affectionately and reassuringly nuzzle his jaw to show Din there isn’t anything to be concerned about.

Far from being placated, Din insists that he run you a bath after breakfast so you can soak and relax; you don’t argue, but make him promise to join you.

Honestly, you love baths, and given the time, you’ll soak in one for hours with a glass or two of wine; you’re sure today’s bath will be relaxing in a totally different way. Filling the hot water with more salts and bubbles than usual, you lie in the water with your eyes closed, letting your aching muscles melt until you’re toasty and pliable all over for when Din joins you. When he comes in, you sit up and cross your arms over the side of the tub, resting your chin on your arms as you watch Din undress, trying not to stare. His naked physique in the daytime is somehow even more impressive than it was last night. He towers over you, a mountain of a man, impossibly broad – he isn’t chiseled or as cut as he probably used to be, but his body is still muscular and a force to be reckoned with. You can’t believe you were able to house all of that between your legs last night; no wonder you’re sore. Once again, your eyes spot the litany of scars and marks from previous fights (in the ring and out, you’re sure); you beckon Din to come closer with your hand and when he’s within reach, you trace your fingers from scar to scar, drawing a connect the dots picture with the water droplet trail your fingers leave behind. You look up at Din, eyes full of worry for wounds that have long since hurt, but still pain your heart nonetheless. Din cups your chin with his hand and says softly, “Should have seen the other guys, pretty bird.”

Your fingers continue their trail down below his belly button, eyes hungry. Even soft, Din’s cock is impressive; thick and girthy, your mouth waters slightly as your hand wraps around – an easier feat than yesterday when it was hard and throbbing in your mouth. You’re not sure how long you stay lightly working Din’s length, proverbially and literally drooling, but when Din’s semi hardening cock jumps in your hand, you’re startled out of your daze; Din chuckles and tells you to scoot forward, he’s coming in.

You wanted to sit behind him and help wash him, but that would have defeated the purpose of giving your hips and pelvis a break, so instead, after Din slides into the tub, you sit between his legs on your knees and face him to wash his hair and his body with a little pouf.

Din is in hell. You’re once again sitting pretty on your knees for him, this time naked, wet and soapy; his hands are holding you gently by your waist and even there you’re supple and inviting. He wants you to relax and recover, so he’s vowed not to fuck you until later, but he’s having to tap into years of trained self discipline in order to not sink himself into you right in this tub. He forces himself to look away from your perky, sudsy breasts, and instead watches your face as you focus on washing him with an adorable look of concentration.

He thinks he might actually die when you lean over him, pressing your chest into his shoulder and clavicle so you can reach and scrub his back. All he has to do is tilt his head to the side and down a little and he would be able to bite and suck on that tantalizing flesh; luckily, you save him from himself, “Din?”

“Yes, pretty bird?” hoping you don’t detect the strain in his voice.

“What’s this tattoo?” your fingers tracing the Mythosaur skull; the more you look at the tattoo, the more fearsome it looks.

“Oh,” Din laughs, “…that’s the Mando insignia… we all have it tattooed.”

“Like how the actors from the Fellowship have the 9 tattoo? Or all of BTS has 7?” you tease.

“Yes,” Din rolls his eyes, kissing and then lightly biting down on your shoulder, “exactly like that… nerd.”

Sitting back on your heels, you straighten your arms, pressing them close to your sides so your boobs are pushed up; you’re not entirely unaware of the effect your nakedness has been having on Din, his growing arousal evident even through the bubble foam. If he wants to be teasing, you can too. Pushing out your lower lip for effect, you pout, “Alright cool guy, how come that particular design for the Mandos?”

Din’s eyes are about to pop out of their sockets and his ears tinge pink, “Some of the Mandos went through a D&D phase… Woves found it in a book about fantasy monsters and creatures when we were kids; it’s supposed to be a Mythosaur, like a giant dinosaur, dragon with tusks. It seemed pretty badass when we were 8.”

You giggle, god he’s so cute. “It is badass… nerd,” you smile, kissing him lightly once, twice, then a third time in succession. Turning so you’re facing away from him, you sit between Din’s legs and lay on his chest, “I like it.”

“Thanks, pretty girl. Sorry I called you a nerd.”

Nuzzling in to his chest, you say light heartedly, “Don’t be sorry. I am a nerd, and it’s a very cool thing.”

“Very true. Also, I don’t even know what the second thing you said was,” Din admits.

“Omigod, old man, BTS?!?” you turn up to look at his face, disbelieving.

Little tease. Din can’t hold back his hands any longer, “Old man? You’ll pay for that, sweetheart.” Still wanting to leave the lower half of your body alone, he reaches out of the water to give your breasts that are resting above the waterline two playful slaps.

The first slap has you yelping in surprise, but the second has you moaning from the light, but pleasurable sting. Right away, you feel a wetness between your legs that has nothing to do with the bathwater.

“Oh, does my dirty little slut like that?”

“Mmmhmmm, yes, please, Din.”

Din reaches up and palms your breasts, one in each large hand, covering them completely and groping them rougher than he would normally.

“…daddy,” you sigh.

“Tell daddy what you want, pretty girl.”

“Fuck.. Din. Want… w-wan… want you to pull on them.”

Fingers rolling your nipples before pinching them gently, Din gives them both a little tug, much to your delight.

“Ahhhhhh… oh yes, daddy, just like that,” you moan, melting back against him, feeling his hardness pressed against your back.

“Didn’t know my good girl could moan like a whore,” Din whispers hotly in your ear before pulling on your nipples a little harder and releasing them, letting your tits bounce before slapping them like before.

“Holy fu---, oh daddy, that feels so good, love it when you play with my boobs... ohhhhh yessss.”

Din starts sucking on your neck and dips a hand below the water, reaching for your pussy. He swipes two fingers against your slit to find your slick already coating you, “Sweetheart, this for me?”

“Oh god, Din, yes, all for you… please, please need you to fuck me.”

Din stills his hands and returns them to a more innocent position, wrapped around your waist, “Oh pretty girl, we can’t. You’re still sore.”

You roll in his arms so to face him to plead your case, “Please, daddy. You take such good care of me, I’m all better. Want you.”

“Baby –,“ it’s not fair that he has to somehow say no to these big doe eyes you’re giving him, “don’t want to hurt you.”

Crawling up his body, you tuck yourself under Din’s chin and press kisses to his pulse point, “You won’t, daddy. You only make me feel so good. Do you need your little slut to beg for it? Please, please, Din. I need you so bad.”

Fuck. “Let’s get out of the tub, pretty bird.”

Giddy at having gotten your way, you’re practically bouncing as you and Din towel off, and when Din guides you to the bed by the small of your back, gently pushing you up onto the middle of the bed.

“I’m not going to fuck you, sweetheart.”

Your head snaps up, “Wh-“

“And you’re not going to get my fingers.”

“Dinnnnn,” you whine before he cuts you off.

“…I’m going to eat you out until I have you running down my chin.”

“Holy Fu-,“ you don’t even finish your thought as you have to sharply inhale when Din pulls you closer to the edge of the bed by your ankles, gently places your legs over his shoulders and starts lovingly trailing kisses down your inner thigh.

Then he makes you come with just his mouth and his words:

“Such a pretty pussy. So sweet and perfect,”as he licks long, strong strokes up and down your slit.

“Love how wet you get just from my mouth. Such a greedy, needy slut,” as he explores your folds with his tongue, swirling and gliding through the most sensitive parts of your cunt.

“Give me those moans, baby girl. Need to know if my little whore likes what I’m doing to this pretty hole,” as he drinks in your moans and makes the most obscene slurping and squelching noises while open mouth kissing every part of your pussy.

“Come on, sweetheart, soak my face. Want to drink you up,” as he teases your clit between his teeth before closing his lips over your swollen bud and builds, builds, and builds you up until you topple off the edge, grabbing his hair as you seize, screaming “Daddy!”

You can still taste yourself on his tongue after Din crawls up your body to pepper your mouth with kisses, tucking you into bed before climbing in under the covers to join you.

“What about you, Din?” you murmur into his neck as he holds you close; knowing you’re too pliant and boneless to argue, he tells you he’ll be fine as you drift off into your nap.

---

Later in the afternoon, the two of you go for a leisurely (and happily pain free) stroll around your neighbourhood with Al, where you proceed to point out all the food places of note; happily, you let Din select an assortment of pastries for tonight’s dessert from a local bakery and try not to side-eye him too much when he doesn’t choose the Portuguese egg tart. No one’s perfect, you suppose, smiling to yourself. Once back home, you get started on dinner at the kitchen island, cutting up the bread for tonight’s panzanella. Din is facing you, sitting on a high top at the bar side of the island, helping you organize the ingredients into little bowls when your cutting board gets too full. Content chatting nonstop while you prep, you smile at Din and ask, “Why did your dad name the gym ‘Mando’s’?”

Smiling back a big grin, Din points to a pad of paper and pen, to which you nod, “You ever watch Back to the Future, pretty bird?”

“Of course, I love Michael J. Fox!”

Din starts writing on the notepad, “Well, before it went bankrupt, DMC had a repair garage where the gym is now.” He turns the paper towards you, where you see he’s written:

Manufacturer Certified DeLorean Repairs

“Then before the movie even came out, the company went kaput and abandoned the building and the lot. A couple of years later, Dad bought it for real cheap, and started to fix the place up to turn it into a gym and a place for us to live. The neighbourhood was a bit rougher back then, and for some reason, maybe because the movie was so popular at the time, people kept stealing the letters on the sign out front.”

Taking the pad back, Din draws a few short marks on the paper before turning it back to you, “When we moved into the apartment on the top floor, this was what was left.” When you look, you can’t help but laugh, “Oh my god, they took so many.”

Manufacturer Certified DeLorean Repairs

Grinning, Din takes the pad back for a second time, “Dad and Boba tried to scare the kids into leaving it alone, but I think the challenge just motivated them more. When the renovations on the gym were about done and dad was ready to open, this is what it looked like:”

Manufacturer Certified DeLorean Repairs

“Dad didn’t want to spend any more money, so he got up on a ladder with a bucket of paint and a paint brush, added the apostrophe and the word ‘gym’ underneath, and that’s how ‘Mando’s Gym’ was born,” Din recounts wistfully, “I think if anyone didn’t know the real story, Dad used to just say Mando was his grandfather’s name or something. He never found out that Paz and I were the ones who stole the last ‘u’. I think Paz still has it at his place.”

“That’s so cute,” you grin. You love how Din talks about his dad; it’s so evident that he’s proud of their shared history with the gym and strong ties to the neighbourhood. You can just imagine a young Din and Paz sneaking around the property, planning their great heist, “I bet he knew though. You two were probably the biggest scamps.”

Din comes around to your side of the island, “You’re probably right. Dad always knew more than he let on. And who are you calling a scamp, sweetheart?” He steals a handful of cut bread before pinching you on the bum and escaping to the living room to share his bounty with Al.

---

After a hearty dinner, you and Din put on some tv in the background, and laze on the couch talking about anything and everything: work, dream places to travel, most embarrassing dumb college experiences, extended family. Netflix and chill, indeed. You’re sitting with your back against the arm of the couch, legs laid over Din’s lap as he gently plays with and massages your hands. On the heels of that last topic, you grow a little more serious, and decide to bring up something you’ve been meaning to address, “Din? You know how you told me yesterday a little more about what you and the Mandos do for Boba?”

At this, Din straightens up a bit. He knew you would have questions and have every right to ask; he just doesn’t know what he’s prepared to answer.

“I know that the Fett family is important to you, and you’re loyal to them – I can’t admit I’m not curious about… well everything. But I’m never going to, like, interrogate you, okay? I might have questions, but won’t demand answers because I’m assuming, not all the answers are yours to give. I guess what I’m saying is it’s okay that you don’t tell me everything, but Din,” and you look at him with pleading eyes, “please don’t ever make me feel like you’re hiding something from me?”

“Oh, pretty bird,” as usual, you prove to be a lot more pragmatic and understanding than Din had been prepared for. He’s not sure if he’s ever going to stop being surprised by your forgiving and empathetic nature, “I promise I’ll never make you feel that way. Everything that’s mine, is yours to know if you wish. You’re right about there being some things that I might not be able to discuss, but you can ask me anything, anytime, okay?” He kisses your hands over and over, like a humbled subject showing his devotion and allegiance to his queen. He might be being a little cavalier about it, but he wants you to know that you’re not misplacing your trust in him, and that he in turns, trusts you, “Is there anything you want to know now?”

You think about it for a second then shake your head truthfully, “Right now? Not really. Well… maybe just… do you ever carry weapons?”

“Baby, weapons are part of… the religion,” Din tries to phrase it in a delicate, more poetic way, “but, I never carry when I’m in public, and definitely not when I’m with you. Is that ok?”

Thoughtfully, you nod. You’ve never felt afraid or intimidated by Din, and his answer doesn’t change that. Satisfied, you pull up and capture Din’s lips with yours, drawing out the kiss as if sealing in your confidence on the matter.

When you relaxed back into your previous position, but having now reversed your roles so you’re the one giving the hand massage, Din has a completely different question for you, but one he approaches with the same seriousness and care that you did your last, “Pretty bird, I have to make sure something with you.”

You look at him, curious. Din continues, almost shy, “When we’re… in bed… and I call you names…”

Keeping your expression neutral, you think about the side of Din that’s confident, dominant even, who has a mouthy quip for every occasion, and then fondly watch this other Din, the Din who’s easily flustered when he’s trying to be sincere, who is respectful to a fault, almost SHY; honestly, you’re falling in love with both. But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him, “What names?”

Din goes beet red and murmurs after a beat, “dirty names..” You stay silent but arch your eyebrows.

“… you know that that’s not what I really think of you, right?”

Oh. How is this brute of a man, who’s made you come five times in the last 24 hours, so fucking respectful. You almost feel bad at the giggle that leaves your throat, and you clasp your hands over your mouth so Din can’t see you smile. It’s absurd. This man? An enforcer for a crime boss? If he hadn’t told you himself you wouldn’t have believed it. He’s so soft and caring, considerate of your physical comfort and emotional safety. How is he real? The other hilarious thought is the idea that you might be offended by some light degradation when really, it turns you on like a lightbulb.

You climb onto Din’s lap, straddling his legs; glad to no longer feel a burn in your upper thighs, you cup his face lovingly and plant reassuring kisses on Din’s face, his lips, his cheeks, his nose, “Oh Din, how did I get so lucky? Of course, I don’t think you think you mean anything actually insulting or demeaning towards me as a person when you call me a slut or a whore in bed.” Silly man. “In fact, the only reason I even find it such a turn on is because I’m sure that you don’t. If I even thought for a second that you didn’t value me as a person or a woman, I would never entertain you touching me never mind calling me any dirty names during sex.”

Din breathes a sigh of relief, he loved how you brought out the dirty talk in him, but dirty talk was only hot if you liked the dirty talk, “Ok, baby. I would never. You’re the smartest, sweetest, prettiest bird. I’m the lucky one that you even looked twice my way.”

You’re melting, and also incredibly turned on, “You’re so good to me, Din. That’s why I like it when you call me a slut,” you coo into his ear, “It’s like you’re the only one who gets to see this needy, desperate part of me. You’re the only one who can give me what I need.”

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

“Everyone else gets to see the good girl too, but only you get to know me like this, a filthy whore that’s desperate for your cock.”

“Goddammit, pretty girl.”

“And you know what else I like?”

“What, baby?”

“I like the idea that you want me so bad, that I drive you so crazy, that you cannot help yourself. You need to take your little slut so bad that you can’t be bothered to be respectful anymore.”

Din’s face is muffled into your neck, “Yeah, baby, respect you so much.”

“I know, daddy. That’s why I want you to call me a whore, a slut… then handle me like one,” you pause and give Din a less self assured look, “but… I don’t think I like the word ‘bitch’. And I don’t want you to call me stupid. And… nothing said in anger. Or to humiliate me. I don’t think I would find that very sexy.”

Stroking your hair, Din kisses you lightly, “Of course, only what makes you feel good, I promise. Only the dirty talk that makes you feel hot… and safe,”

Punctuating each word with a kiss to Din’s open mouth, “Thank you, daddy. So good to me. So respectful. You take such good care of me. That’s why you get to treat me like your cumslut.”

“Holy fuck, sweet girl. Remind me again what else you like,” stutters Din, now thrusting up slightly into you.

“I like being your filthy, needy slut, Din,” grinding down on Din’s lap

“Yes, baby girl. Daddy’s here, take what you need.”

You can feel Din’s cock pressing into you through his pants, so you lift up to shimmy out of your shorts and panties; climbing back onto Din, you take his hands and guide it towards where you’re already throbbing and aching for him. Din strokes through your wet folds, sucking in a sharp breath, “Fuck, you are a desperate little slut. So wet from just talking about how dirty you are.”

Plunging a finger in you and meeting no resistance in your slick hole, he adds another and builds up a steady rhythm, “This what you need, pretty bird? Need daddy to fill you up?”

Bouncing on his fingers, you cry out, “Yes, daddy. Please, please, need you to fill me up. Stretch out this pussy,” you pull your shirt over your head, and let your breasts bounce free.

“Fuck. The tits on you, pretty bird. And the mouth. You’re gonna be the end of me,” Din growls, working another finger into you as his thumb draws firm circles over your slippery clit.

When Din leans down to take one of your nipples in your mouth, you gasp; your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast. The combination of the dirty talk and the fact that it all stemmed from Din wanting to make sure you got to set the boundaries on your derogatory dirty talk, has you absolutely feral for him, “I’m close, Din. Can’t help it, feels so good.”

“Let go, baby, I got you,” Din promises, intensifying his movements until you come, shaking and nearly sobbing.

Resting your head on Din’s shoulders as he slips out of you, you purr, “Let me clean you up, daddy.”

“Dirty girl,” Din says, smiling down at you.

And with those two words, you feel a fresh wave of heat in your lower belly even though you haven’t yet fully come down from your high; sucking and swirling his fingers in your mouth, you mumble, “Want your cock, Din.”

“What’s that? You’re still fucked out from my fingers and you want to be my cock sleeve already?”

Uhhhhhhhgg, he is driving you fucking insane. Coming off his fingers with a pop, you give Din the most innocent look you can muster, “It’s what your little whore needs.”

“Who am I to deny you, pretty bird?” lifting up to pull down his pants, he releases his already leaking cock and lines himself up with your entrance, giving you the go ahead to sink down when you’re ready, “Take what you need, baby.”

Slowly, you sink down, letting his thickness fill you, feeling every delicious inch and stretch of your walls. When you’re fully seated on Din, you take a moment to revel in this feeling of fullness, having him entirely inside of you, before you start to work yourself on his length. Each little bounce pulling a moan from your lips and swaying your breasts in Din’s face. Groping your boobs and pushing them together so he can take as much of the flesh in his mouth at once, Din mumbles, “Perfect tits, baby. So perfect for my mouth. You feel so good, pretty bird. Need to fuck you.”

“Give it to me, daddy. Use me like a cumrag,” you throw your head back as Din groans and still grasping onto your breasts, starts thrusting up into you. You’re putty in his hands, a pliant doll for him to use, and he’s taking full advantage, “Such a good little whore for me, letting me use her hole any way I want.”

Your fingers dip to where you’re joined with Din and swipe across your throbbing clit; it takes only four sloppy circles before you wail out Din’s name, coming quickly but intensely. Closing your eyes, you tuck yourself under Din’s chin and continue to mewl as Din uses your body for his own pleasure.

“Give me all those needy noises. Need to hear how good I’m making my pretty slut’s pussy feel.”

“Fuck, Din… feels so good. It’s your pussy, only you can make me – ngh! Fill me up, daddy. Need your cum. Please, give it all to me.”

Hearing you beg for his cum pushes Din over the edge and he comes with a roar, shooting his release deep inside you. Both of you shuddering as he empties into you, holding each other tight, kisses messy and loving.

When your breathing evens, you straighten up to look at Din, glassy-eyed and fucked out; taking in your expression, Din gently kisses you, satisfied and content, mumbling against your lips, “Good talk.”

Laughing, you give him a little punch in the shoulder before kissing him back sweetly.

---

The next morning, Din drops you off at brunch; you let him know that he’s welcome to join, but he makes a good case for going back to his place, “I think I need a fresh change of clothes, pretty bird. These kind of still smell like that club.”

Jokingly, you pretend to take a whiff and scrunch up your nose. Din kisses your adorable expression and promises to come pick you up after.

To say the girls are curious about what’s transpired since the birthday dinner is the understatement of the century; when you let them know in the chat that Din would be dropping you off at brunch, your phone had practically vibrated itself off your bedside table from the successive notifications. Securing your phone in a drawer, you escaped to the shower without reading any of the messages.

You’re sure you and Din were spotted through the windows, but when you sit down in your usual seat, you’re met with nonchalant, innocent faces… that last for approximately 20 seconds before Bea explodes, “What the hell??!?!”

“You dropped a bomb in the group chat and then radio silence?!!”

“That was him outside?! He’s the size of a fucking refrigerator!”

“DO YOU HAVE A SEX LIMP?”

Rory’s outburst stuns several nearby tables into silence, as your friends all turn to face you, expectantly. Sheepishly, you nod and giggle, “… but he fucked it better yesterday.”

Your friends whoop and cheer so loud you’re sure that you’re going to need to find a new brunch location after today. Feeling bad for having inadvertently left them in suspense earlier, you tell your friends everything, minus the details about the Fett Family and Din’s past and current ties, leaving it as Din coming from a rough neighbourhood and being hypervigilant about safety.

“Seems like he was trying to look out for you, but wound up being kind of stupid about it,” muses Lala. Everyone nods; they’re right of course, but the dreamy look you have on your face convinces your friends that you and Din have worked past it. They press you for more details about your weekend, and you talk so much that your food goes cold.

At one point, you have to remind your friends that this is Katie’s birthday brunch and you shouldn’t be monopolizing the conversation, but Katie waves her hand dismissively and says that all she wants for her birthday is to know how many orgasms you’ve had since she last saw you.

Popping a strawberry in your mouth, you muse, “Including this morning?”

“GIRL.”

Mouth full after adding a forkful of fruit, you hold up both hands, palms out and fingers spread, then fold down one thumb.

“Holy shit, no wonder you had a sex limp.”

The table giggles uncontrollably and you use the opportunity to shovel more food in your mouth before your friends assail you with more questions.

When your plates are being cleared, you lean back in your chair, stomach full, and spot a familiar hulk of a character sitting at the bar. Giving Din a little wave, he smiles and gets up when you wave him over.

Getting permission from a waiter to pull over a chair, Din folds his large frame into his seat next to you and says, rather nervously, “Hi. I’m Din.”

“Oh, we know,” cackles Rory, and you cover your face, you’re giggling so much.

You make the introductions, and Din politely shakes everyone’s hands while your friends all smirk knowingly at him. They’re such menaces. Din breaks the ice, “So you guys want my place and time of birth to do my star chart?” This gets a good laugh, and when that dies down, Bea looks Din dead in the eye, “Yeah, we do.”

Din roars with laughter, “Might as well, I have a feeling there aren’t going to be any secrets between me and you ladies.”

“Right-o, dude. Can you also get some socials so we can keep an eye on you?”

“No can do, sorry. Like this one says,” Din’s finger jabs lovingly into your side, “I’m too much of an old man. But you’re all welcome to come and work out at my gym if you want to check up on me. Anytime,” holding his hands up in surrender.

“Any cute guys at your gym?”

“You’re looking at the cutest guy there,” you cut in, grinning uncontrollably when Din leans over to give you an appreciative kiss on your temple.

Before your friends can groan at this cute display, the waiter who Jen has been trying to flag down comes over so she can ask for the check, and to the table’s surprise, he responds, “The bill’s been paid. All taken care of,” and gives Din a nod.

You turn to Din, shocked, “Din!!”

Din looks like he’s been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, “It was… an accident.”

Incredulously, you say, “Did your credit call fall into the reader?”

“No, no,” Din implores, “I got here early, so I got a coffee at the bar, and then thought I would pay for your meal, pretty bird.” You instinctively soften at the pet name, and you know your friends do too.

Din runs his hands through his hair, “Then I remembered it was Katie’s birthday, so I asked the waiter if he knew which meal was the birthday girl’s so I could pay for that too,” he’s getting kind of flustered now. “…Then, I thought that might be kind of unfair for everyone else because you were probably going to split Katie’s meal so now everyone left would be paying more than before… and I couldn’t take it back, so… I just paid for everyone,” he finishes in a hurry.

“Why are you so cute?” you ask, purposefully pouty, pulling Din in for an appreciative kiss – he wasn’t trying to be boastful or impressive, he was just being thoughtful. You can’t help but feel pride in showing this Din to your friends: he’s charming and confident, but ultimately just a giant teddy bear whose own considerate and kind nature can’t help but shine through.

“Ok fine, you’re forgiven,” quips Rory, and Din breaks out into a huge smile as he mimes wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and exhales, “Whew!”

The girls chorus their thanks, and you know that they’re truly appreciative and touched by his sweet gesture.

“My pleasure,” Din says, genuinely, “and Happy Birthday!” he says to Katie.

“Thank you! The best birthday gift you could give me is taking care of our girl here,” smiles Katie, with sincerity.

Din wraps his arms around you and you tilt your face up to his, melting into his look of adoration. “Consider it done,” he says softly before lightly pressing his lips to yours.

#din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #modern au #modern!din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff

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gluedwithgold · 7 months

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Time for some LORE!

TLDR for those who don’t wanna read my wall of text: Leshy feels out of place among the old faith and believes the other bishops fear his power and don’t respect him so he makes his own cult. The others don’t like that and try to stop Leshy. Big fight ensues, four bishops injured, Leshy gets imprisoned, and the green crown gets lost in Darkwood.

Leshy, the youngest of bishops and newest edition to the Old Faith had always felt out of place- No. He KNEW he was the odd one out.

War, Pestilence, Death and Famine. They were the four horseman of the Apocalypses. They were a team. Just the four of them.

Originally, Leshy had thought the older bishops simply feared change. That they were stuck in their ways and with his domain being that of chaos, it had disrupted the balance the Old Faith had grown comfortable in .

But it was HIM they feared. They clearly feared the unpredictable powers of the green crown. They couldn't control him and it SCRAED them.

Shamura couldn't teach Leshy their traditions. Tradition was boring and Leshy wasn't one for the strict routine Shamura tried to enforce.

Narinder and Heket couldn't scare him into submission. Leshy had laughed at the idea of his older siblings trying to boss him around like he was one of their followers.

And Kallamar… We'll Kallamar had always been a coward through and through. The pathetic squid god would say what the others were too proud to admit.

There was no place for Leshy in their faith.

Since there was no place for him in the old faith, Leshy would just make his own faith! With a following of those who respected his domain. Then when his siblings saw how powerful he was they would HAVE to respect him.

Leshy isolated himself from his older siblings without warning and focused all of his efforts on making his own cult grow. The older bishops didn't pay any attention to this as they thought Leshy had finally gotten the message and was taking the teaching of the Old Faith seriously. Oh how wrong they were.

His following has always been much larger than his sibling's as Leshy was rather lax with the rules and his followers could usually do as they pleased. This made him more favorable among the mortals.

And as his following grew, so did his power.

It was only when followers started leaving the old faith to join Leshy did the other bishops realize what their youngest brother had been doing. They needed to put a stop to this before Leshy took his "New Faith" too far.

Attempting to confront Leshy was a horrible mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake.

This would be the first and hopefully last time any of the bishops would ever seen raw chaos magic in action as they witness the power of the green crown and for the first time see Leshy's eldritch form.

~~~ BATTLE AND AFTERMATH ~~~

-Kallamar was the first to be attacked by Leshy. Kali's ear's were permanently damaged by being too close to Leshy screaming while he transformed into his eldritch horror form. Kali was left deafened immediately after the attack. Leshy then flung Kali through the forest with his tail and chased a panicked Kallamar until their other siblings arrived. Kali chained the tail shortly after Heket managed to restrain Leshy for long enough.

After the battle, Kali's paranoia only grows as he believes Leshy is still watching him from the shadows. Now unable to hear, Kali is constantly looking over his shoulder and hold his weapons at the ready, much to the dismay of his followers who might get a blade pointed in their face. He does suffer from auditory hallucinations which only make the paranoia worse

-While attempting to muzzle Leshy, he grabbed Shamura in his mouth and burrowed violently through the ground until Narinder captured him. Shamura experience permanent head trauma from the attack which had also left them severely traumatized. They chained the upper body.

Shamura was left a shell of their former self. Not only from the brain damage but from the grief they feel over failing their youngest sibling. It was Shamura's job as the oldest and wisest bishop to teach their ways and they failed to reach Leshy. If they had only tried harder. Tried to understand how the chaos god saw their world. Shamura had the powers to stop any of this from happening and yet they still failed them all.

-Heket's throat was slashed open by one of Leshy's antlers while putting the collar shackle on him. This was the only attack from Leshy which was purely accidental. Heket was the first to successfully chain Leshy. She chained his neck.

Heket now has to speaks telepathically through her crown as she was muted by the attack and it pains her to try and speak. She was the sibling Leshy was closest too and his betrayal hit her hard. Was she too hard on the young god? Was she not hard enough? For the first time in her long life, Heket questions her choices. Her uncertainty manifests itself as unbridle rage as her iron grip over her cult only tightens.

-Narinder was the last bishop to arrive shortly after Shamura, he had gotten his left arm bitten off while attempting to restrain Leshy and rescue Shamura from the jaws of the rampaging worm. He chained the lower body.

After almost dying at the hands (mouth?) of Leshy, Nari has been struggling with the concept of his own mortality. The god of death himself being afraid of dying? How painfully ironic. Despite all this, Nari is the one to visit Leshy the most out of all of the siblings. The two of them, were never that close by any means but Nari will occasionally check in on the youngest god...

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cult of the lamb au #cotl au #agent of chaos au #au lore #bishops of the old faith #leshy #heket #narinder #kallamar #shamura #no beta we die like followers at random #srs I cant leave them alone for two minutes #grammar is a social construct #i like angst a lot

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mie779 · 2 months

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Don't Kiss and Tail

A/N: This is an alternate/what-if version of season 3 episode 17 “The Jolly Roger” where we have Zelena pose as Ariel… What if it was the real Ariel who spoke with Killian, how pissed Ariel would be and go tattle to dear old daddy dearest and have Killian cursed, and not only his lips.

This story is part of CSSNS2024, and I have some peeps I’d like to thank.

@whatevenisthisbloganymore (on Tumbler) for beta reading this. Without her, this would have looked so messy.

@iamstartraveller776 , who made the beautiful banner for this story. It was also through a talk with her that the title finally came to be. And that title sparked my muse, (damn it!) so perhaps one day I’ll write some original mermaid story.

It’s been such a blast being part of this event, (again), and it's sad to see this will be the last year. I love the stories already having been shared, and I can’t wait to read the rest of the stories.

My inspiration for the theme was several CaptainSwan fan art with a mermaid theme, from Wild-white-werewolf (Julia Volkova) and Svenjaliv. And plotting began and I tried to find a place to do an alternate spin on an episode… On a rewatch I stumbled over the episode “The Jolly Roger” and the whole talk with Zelena posing as Ariel had my muse thinking… so here you are, without further ado, my contribution to the CSSNS24.

READ ON AO3 if that is your thing (like me) https://archiveofourown.org/works/57458686

Don’t Kiss and Tail

“You're a monster… “ The following sting of the female hand slapping his cheek still burned as Killian watched the mermaid leap from the dock and dive into the dark water. The flip of her colorful tail was the last thing he saw.

“Bloody hell. “ He understood the mermaid perfectly as he'd been so bullheaded in that missing year in the enchanted forest. His focus on getting his beloved ship back and this having not helped Ariel find Eric might have been stupid. He paced the docks. The whole town was still in a mighty uproar over the wicked witch. So he wasn’t going to worry about a pissed-off mermaid right now.

He kept his pacings to the docks, but he staggered back in surprise when Ariel again came striding towards him, this time from behind the old fisherman’s shack. How did she get back there? He shifted his gaze towards the water where she’d vanished moments ago. But before he could contemplate this the mermaid spoke.

“How am I supposed to trust a man who doesn’t believe in love?” Ariel curled her lips in disgust.

“I still do,” Killian whispered, his face contorted in agony.

“Then swear to me on it. This woman broke your heart. Do you still love her?”

Killian looked down, the word tearing through him like a thousand blades. “Yes.”

“Then swear to me, on her name.” Ariel lifted her chin in an unspoken challenge.

“Then I swear on Emma Swan.” Her sweet name was the only easy word falling over his lips.

A smirk forms over Ariel, “Thank you, captain, that’s exactly what I needed to hear.” She flipped her fingers towards him and something green and warm wrapped around his lips; the sensation confused him and he covered his lips with his hand, “What the hell?”

He looked back up at the mermaid. But the next second a swirl of green smoke engulfed the girl and in her stead was now the wicked witch. “Zelena it was you.” Killian drew his cutlass, “where’s Ariel?”

With a quick flick of her wrist, Zelena tore his weapon out of his hand.

“Relax. She wasn’t here right now, I’d imagine she’s gone tattling to her dear ol’ dad, boo hoo, the pirate wouldn’t tell me where my beloved is.” Zelena rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“I don’t understand why you would pretend to be her?” He frowned.

“To corrupt your love. I have known all about your dirty little secret for some time, and have seen the guilt on your face ever since making that decision that day. I knew it haunted you. I knew I could use it.

“Use it for what?”

“When you evoked the name of your love, your selfish plea for redemption, I was able to curse you. Or more specifically your kiss - you see the next time your lips touch Emma Swan’s all of her magic will be taken. Everything that makes her special, that makes her powerful, that makes her a threat will be gone.”

“I won’t do it. I’ll tell her, then she’ll defeat you.”

“Then I’ll send the Dark One to kill her before you can.” The self-satisfied smile on her face pissed off Killian even more, but he saw right through her bluster.

“No, you won’t. If you could have killed her you would have. You need her power removed. That is why you didn’t kill her when she came to the town. It’s why your monkey looked after her in New York instead of killing her.” Killian gave her a satisfied smirk. “For some reason, you can’t.”

Zelena pursed her lips before saying, “It no longer matters, because you’re going to remove her powers. I may not be able to hurt Emma, but I can hurt those around her.” She lifted her eyes briefly as if to contemplate who to put on that list, “Her parents, her friends,” she shifted far too close, “her child.”

“Do not go near him.”

Zelena chuckled and grinned knowingly. “Yes you’ve become quite fond of the boy, haven’t you? I will enjoy turning him into a monkey’s breakfast.”

“I’ll stop you.” Killian sneered.

“No, you won’t. That pointy little hook of yours can scratch a mere mortal but me…” Another chuckle. “You’re out of your depths, pirate. The choice is yours, kiss Emma and remove her power or everyone she loves dies.” The words came out in a hate-filled staccato, baring her teeth as she sneered at him.

Before Killian could make another retort she was gone in a swirl of green smoke.

“Bloody hell.” Killian slumped back on the crate behind him, his lips still tingling from the curse Zelena had cast upon his lips. “Bloody hell that woman is crazy as shite.” He shook his head and gazed upon the dark waters, the moored fisherboats swaying on the gently lapping waves. He had no idea how long he’d been sitting there - he wasn’t sure where to go from here, all he knew was that he wouldn’t tell Emma about the curse. He wouldn’t have her worry about another thing in her life. He would attempt to avoid her advances to become closer. He knew they were closer than ever to crossing that line of a real relationship.

The moored boats started to crash against the dock, the wood scraping against the concrete. Something was stirring up the water and when he rose to his feet he spotted a swirling vortex out in the water. Moments later a white-haired man with a tri fork floated in the water.

“Bloody hell, now what?” Killian groaned.

“You’re Killian Jones?” The voice of Triton boomed over the docks, the trident pointed at Killian.

Killian gulped down and was about to lie his way out of this predicament when a far too familiar mermaid rose from the water.

“That’s him,” Ariel said and crossed her arms over her chest.

“What did I do?” Killian wavered.

“You refused to help my daughter find her love, and now you shall pay.” Triton lifted his weapon and boomed, “Ye shall live a life under the sea. Return to the dry lands will only be possible by a true love kiss.”

“What the bloody hell…” Killian stepped back but swirling white magic leaped from the trident and within seconds it wrapped around Killian. The magic pulled at his form and he felt pain shoot through his body. “What are you doing to me?” His voice pained and he dropped to the edge of the dock, while his hands grabbed his legs. The magic swirled over his form from head to toe.

“You’ll have to live your life as a merman.” Ariel huffed. “You didn’t want to help me find my Eric.”

“Bloody hell, you went and tattled to you dear old…” Killian gritted his teeth, the magic did some crazy ass shite to his body. “... Dear old daddy.”

“See, father, he’s nothing but a vile and ruthless pirate.” Ariel glared at him.

“I see, my daughter. And now he will not be able to walk around on dry land and pursue his happiness.”

“Bloody hell, Emma…” He nearly blacked out from the pain.

“Yeah, now she won’t be able to find you.”

When Killian finally opened his eyes again the pain had vanished, but as he inspected himself he quickly saw how his body had changed, his torso now bare, and from the waist down his legs had transformed into that of a merman’s tail. Its dark scales glinted in the streetlights behind him. It would be crazy to try and slither his way into town like this. With a roar of anger, he leaped into the water and headed for where Ariel and her father had been. But the harbour was empty and the king and his daughter were nowhere to be found.

Killian lifted his head above water and roared, “Bloody hell, what do I do now?”

*********

Emma was nursing her second mug of cocoa at the diner. It had been two days since she or anyone else had seen Killian and by now she was more than worried. With Zelena on the loose wreaking havoc around them, it was safe to bet she might have had something to do with his disappearance.

Where the hell are you, Killian? Emma thought, taking another sip, and gave her son a reassuring smile. His observant brown eyes were wrinkled in concern. How was she supposed to share her worries with her son? He had no memory of anything related to magic.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, you know it’s just my case that has a lot of loose ends.” Emma mused, “I’ll go to the docks and see if I can find any leads.”

“Will Killian be there?” Henry licked up the remaining crumbs of his breakfast with his finger.

The mention of his name had Emma’s heart skip a beat. “I don’t know kid, I haven’t seen him”

“His boat is still down in the harbor.”

Emma blinked in surprise, the Jolly Roger wasn’t there. “Oh yeah, the fishing boat he took you out in.”

Emma finished her cocoa before she ushered Henry outside, and they walked down to the waterfront. Sure enough, the fishing boat Killian had borrowed was still there. “Look kid, I’m just going to ask around. Why don’t you go to the beach and see if you can find something interesting?”

Henry looked a little put out by this so she added, “Look, this case is not exactly kid friendly so I don’t want you to be part of it. I’ll come for you in half an hour.”

Henry nodded mutely and trodded towards the nearby beach; she could still watch him from afar if Zelena chose to show up.

Emma asked the harbor master if he’d seen Killian, but the only answer she could get was that the old man had seen Killian three nights ago talking with a red-haired woman. That could either be Ariel or Zelena so it wasn’t much help. But why would Killian speak with either of them, unless it was Zelena who then had taken him somewhere?

“Moooom.” Henry’s shout startled her and she rushed towards her son who was waving his arms in the air as he rushed towards her.

“What’s wrong, what happened, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Henry waved his arms in front of him taking a few deep breaths, “I’m fine, I just think I saw something out in the waters.”

“What?” Emma felt a cold shiver run down her spine, and flashes of Killian lying dead in the water shifted through her mind.

“It was some kind of a large fish.” Henry looked a little puzzled, then shrugged, “It had to be a fish, the tail looked like a fish but it was big, like a grown man.”

“A small whale?” Emma mused, unsure what kind of large sea creatures roamed the coast of Maine.

“Maybe, but I haven’t seen any whales with scaly shimmering tails.”

“What did you just say?”

“It had black shimmering scales.” Henry paused and looked at her with worry. “What's wrong?”

Emma shook her head and masked her worry with a smile. “Nothing, I don’t know what you saw but it could have been a large fish I guess.” Inside her head, she thought: it could be a mermaid. She had no idea where Ariel was off to, and now that she thought about it she hadn’t seen the red-haired mermaid for a couple of days either. Did Zelena whisk her away too? That crazy-ass wicked witch of the West needed to be stopped in whatever crazy plan she had set up.

Emma suggested they head back home to Mary Margaret and David, and as they walked along the beach she couldn’t help scanning the water to get a glimpse of whatever creature Henry had seen out there.

Just as they reached the docks again she looked over the rocks jutting out from the coastline and she could have sworn she’d spotted a dark-haired creature hiding between the rocks, but it was gone in a flash and the last thing she saw was the reflection of the sun in a dark tail. “What the hell?”

“What is it, did you see it too?” Henry asked excitedly.

Emma shook her head and waved him off, “No I don’t think it was anything, a seal perhaps.” Or a selkie… oh wasn’t that over in good old England they were legends? Emma wrapped her arm around Henry and urged him to walk to the docks. As they rounded the corner she couldn’t help herself and took another glance over her shoulder. The same dark-haired creature which now looked remarkably like a human was holding onto the rocks but was too far away to see. What the hell is that? she thought to herself, and she couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled inside her. Who was out there?

Emma couldn’t focus on the talk at the dinner table that night and Mary Margaret did ask if she was okay. Emma waved off her mother’s worry and assured her she was merely trying to string together all the loose ends she had in her case. She glanced at Henry who had helped clear the table and then settled onto the couch with his game console.

Her sleep was filled with strange dreams of sea creatures waving at her from the water, all twirling around in a mismatched chaos of confusion. When the first rays of the sun peeked through the thin curtains she slipped out of bed and left a note for Henry before heading for the beach.

*******

Killian kept a close eye on the shoreline, still staying out of sight as he wasn’t sure who would spot him. It was infuriating and damn near impossible to figure out what the hell he should do. He knew his main hope was finding Emma, and spotting her with the boy yesterday afternoon he’d damn well nearly jumped up on the rocks and called out for her. But Henry was there and he still had no memory of any fairytales or curses so the lad was sure to be spooked out of his wits seeing a real merman speak with his mother.

Then there was the whole conundrum with the curse Zelena had placed on his lips. He would never let her willingly give up her magic for him.

The early morning sunlight glinted behind him as he scanned the beach, he was sure Emma had spotted him the day before so he hoped she would return, this time without Henry.

A flash of golden hair and a red leather jacket caught his eye, and he swam closer to the beach. It had been a learning curve the past few days navigating underwater and he realized there was a colony of merfolk some miles south of here keeping their existence unknown beside a small island off the coast. They had not exactly been friendly but they had not been hostile either, only made it clear that he had no business there as they somehow had sensed he truly didn’t belong under the sea.

Emma had walked to the beach and neared the long row of rocks going out from the beach. She pushed away her loose hair from her face as she scanned the water.

Killian reached the first rock, lifted himself halfway out of the water, and waved, “Emma?”

Emma nearly stumbled over her feet as she stepped out on the first couple of large boulders. “Killian, is that you?”

Killian swam closer and he saw how her face contorted into surprise and worry at the same time. “Aye.”

“How the hell did this happen to you?” She narrowed her eyes as she focused on his tail. “You have a tail.”

Killian refrained from rolling his eyes, only nodded and with a quick push of his hand, he lifted himself on a low boulder and sat there.

“What happened?” Emma moved closer cautiously as if trying to gauge if this was some kind of ploy to fool her.

“It’s me, love. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” He tilted his head and smirked.

Emma rolled her eyes and settled on the rock beside her, her knees bent so her boots didn’t get wet. She reached over and touched his arm. “It really is you.” Her eyes scanned over his form and a blush spread over her cheeks.

He gave her a knowing smile, this might be the most naked he’d been in her presence and the color on her cheek indicated that she didn’t mind.

Then she frowned, “What happened to you, who did this?”

“You know how Ariel came to town some days ago.”

Emma nodded, “Yeah everyone was so surprised to see her.”

“Well, she was here on a mission.” He looked down at his hand and hook. When he’d transformed he’d been surprised that his hook was still there.

“What mission?”

“To find me and avenge me for failing to help her back in the Enchanted Forest.”

“Why didn’t you help her?”

“I was so focused on finding my way back to you that I declined to help her find her Eric.” Killian sighed and pushed his wet hair away from his forehead. He looked at her, “I was a fool, I know that.”

“That was a foolish choice.” Emma’s hand on his arm rubbed up and down, “but seems like a long stretch to curse you into a merman.”

“That was her father’s doing.” Killian mused.

“She went and tattled to her father?” Emma exclaimed and turned fully towards him, “Are you serious?”

“Very much so. The king of the sea, Triton cursed me to be a merman, until…” He paused and closed his eyes.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” Killian brushed it away, how on earth was he ever going to tell her that kissing her might be the only thing bringing him back to his human form? But in doing so he would also remove her magic, giving Zelena a better chance at getting whatever witch wanted.

“Do you know how to reverse the curse?” Emma asked and leaned closer. He could smell her perfume now and his heart beat a lot faster. Gods she smelled good.

“I… it’s going to be bloody complicated.” He grimaced, rubbing over his face.

“Tell me, please,” Emma begged. “Whatever it is we can make it happen, we can go get Regina if it’s…”

“No!” He exclaimed, “No one else needs to see me like this.”

“Oh, it’s not exactly a bad look you have going here.” Emma mused and her eyes scanned over his form again, the blush on her cheeks darkened.

Killian tilted his head, getting a better look at her, her eyes sparkled with mischief something that was rarely seen these days with all the stuff going on with Zelena and her son still not remembering anything.

“So you see something you like here, love?” He lifted an eyebrow.

“Perhaps.” She looked down at her hand resting on her bent knee, her fingers tracing over the seam in her jeans.

Killian chuckled, leaned closer, and caught her eyes, “So you’d not mind having a merman as a friend?”

Emma choked back a laugh, “I can’t believe you’re so at ease about all of this, I’d be in a total panic had it been me turned into a mermaid.”

“I did panic at first, but I knew you’d come looking for me. I saw you on the beach with your boy yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you call out then?”

“Henry doesn't remember anything about magic, so I imagined seeing a real-life merman might be too confusing.”

“He’d survive I’m sure. He might not remember, but he still has a vivid imagination.” Emma chuckled, then sobered, “But how can we reverse the curse?”

“Thought you wanted me to stay like this?”

Emma shook her head, “As much as I like this look I still want the real Killian Jones in my life.” She blinked a few times, “I can’t imagine not having you in my life, Killian.”

“Oh.” Hope bloomed inside him and he smiled, “I’d very much like that.” He glanced down at his tail and smoothed his hand over the black scales.

Emma reached over and asked, “May I?”

He looked up at her in surprise and noticed the curious glint in her eyes as she looked at his tail. “Aye.”

Emma moved forward and smoothed her hand over the black scales, it was a strange sensation feeling someone else touch his merman tail like this. The warmth of her hand seeped through to his core.

“This is so strange.” Emma mused and kept her hand on his form, when she looked up at him her eyes were filled with wonder, her lips looking so damn inviting he nearly leaned forward. But when she moved first he pulled back and rubbed over his mouth.

“I can’t…” Killian looked to the sky, the sun had now fully risen and the sea birds flew over them in circles, their cries echoing over the waters.

“What?” Emma pulled back and hugged herself. “This… what do you mean you can’t I thought you wanted to… you know kiss me.”

“Bloody hell I do want to kiss you.” It’s all I’ve been thinking about since we returned to Storybrooke.

“Then why… “ Her voice trailed off and she gasped, “Did Triton do more to curse you?”

“What do you mean?”

“So if you kiss someone they die or something like that?”

“It wasn’t Triton.” Killian sighed and shifted in his seat. The rock beneath him started to feel uncomfortable.

“Then who?”

“Zelena…” Killian whispered.

“Seriously!”

“Aye, I’m afraid so, the witch came to me in disguise as Ariel, and since I thought it to be the actual mermaid who’d just jumped into the water I couldn’t have known. The woman was livid and had me swear on the woman I love’s name and she cursed my lips.”

“What?”

“She cursed my lips…”

“Yeah yeah, I heard that… it’s the love part I’m curious about.” Her voice was wary and guarded but when he glanced at her a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Aye, you’re the woman I love.” Killian reached over and touched her leg, “It’s always been you.” He looked down, “But if I kiss you now we’ll never defeat Zelena.”

“Why?”

“The bloody witch cursed my lips so that should you ever kiss me, your magic will be taken from you.”

“Great.” Emma rolled her eyes and pursed her lips, “Just freaking great.” She looked at his tail, biting her lips.

“I can’t ask that of you, love.”

“Why not?” Emma exclaimed, “You can’t continue living like a merman.” She tilted her head, “Or do you want to be a merman forever?”

Killian shook his head. “There’s got to be another way?”

“And if not?”

“I will live my life hunting down Triton and defeat him.”

“That is a fucked up plan. You know that, pirate?” Emma rolled her eyes, “What I know of Triton he is very powerful and you will have every merman hunting for your tail.”

“You will need your magic to defeat that wicked witch, whatever it is she’s plotting, it can’t be good for anyone in this town.” Killian mused.

“Look, let me ask around and see if we have a chance to work around this curse.” Emma reached over and cupped his face, his skin burning by her touch. She was so bloody close he could smell her.

“Don’t make too much of a ruckus just for me, darling.” He placed his hand over hers.

“Let me be the judge of that, eh?” Emma smiled, her thumb caressing his skin. Then she moved closer wrapping him in a tight hug, “I can’t lose you, Killian.” Her words whispered into his skin and shivers ran down his spine at how close she was now.

“I’m right here, love.”

She pressed a small kiss to his neck and whispered, “Good thing it’s only your lips she cursed.”

“Bloody hell, love, you… gods.” Killian groaned and wrapped his arms around her holding her close.

They stayed like this for some time and it wasn’t until they heard some of the fishermen shout to each other from the docks that they pulled away.

“I better dive down into the water again,” Killian mumbled, gently untangling himself from Emma’s embrace.

“Yeah, I’ll come back here tonight, okay?” She looked up, “after sundown.”

“Aye.” He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm, “Tonight, hope you find a way.”

Emma rose to her feet and stepped back onto the beach before she turned around and gave him a parting wave, “See you tonight then.”

Killian waved back and jumped into the shallow waters below him and swam for his usual hangout spot he’d found at the end of the peninsula jutting out into the sea. It was going to be a long day, but hunting for fish would perhaps keep his mind off of things.

**********

Emma’s head was buzzing with everything she’d learned this morning. Killian was a freaking merman now, long black scaly tale included. Her face heated up when she recalled how damn good he looked sitting there with a bare chest and tail. Damn, she hadn’t known she might have a thing for mermen. Well, this one merman in particular it seemed.

She sought solace in a cup of hot cocoa and a Bearclaw from the diner and when Ruby placed her order on the counter the brunette asked, “You look a bit off kilter this morning, what happened?”

“Oh…” Emma pushed away her hair and sighed, “It’s a long story.”

“I have time, the morning rush is over.” Ruby rested her arms on the counter, “So spill, girl.”

“I found Killian.”

“Oh, the elusive pirate has shown his face again, where is he?”

“In the sea,” Emma mumbled and blew on her cocoa.

“Well, he’s a pirate.”

“No I mean, he is IN the sea, two curses included.” Emma sighed.

“Who cursed him and why?”

Emma explained what she’d learned from Killian, making sure that no one nearby was eavesdropping. But the diner was mostly deserted so she could share her story with Ruby.

“That is such a crazy story, even for this place.” Ruby waved her hand around and Emma couldn’t agree more. Even with everything going on right now a man cursed to be a merman and on top of that also with cursed lips so he wasn’t able to kiss her. That last part had Ruby waggle her eyebrows and comment, “So the question is are you willing to pay with your magic so your pirate will have his legs back?”

“The question is more if he’s willing to let me kiss him.” Emma sighed.

“What do you mean?”

“He seemed reluctant to let me just kiss him, he wants me to keep my magic as it will no doubt be useful when we go against Zelena.” Emma mused and shrugged her shoulders, “I need to speak with Regina, perhaps she has another way.”

Emma enjoyed her breakfast and took off to find Regina, but the mayor had no idea how to reverse a curse that was linked to a true love’s kiss. And she agreed with Emma that she might be the only person Killian loved. But if she kissed Killian she would lose her magic.

*******

Killian kept a close eye on anything happening at the docks, hoping Emma would come down early. But when he did spot her she was accompanied by Henry so Killian kept his distance and watched Henry drag Emma onboard the small vessel he’d borrowed from the fisherman in the past week.

“What are you doing, lad?” Killian asked in wonder. Sure he’d taught the boy a thing or two about boats and sailing, but it wasn’t safe for anyone to go out there with so little training.

“Come on Mom.” Henry’s voice rolled over the water, “I wanted to go fishing, and since Killian is missing I need you with me.”

“Okay, kid, I don’t know how to sail this thing.” Emma sighed and placed her hands at her hips.

“It’s easy. See here.” Henry started up the engine and leapt down to release the boat from the docks and jumped back on board.

Killian contemplated showing himself and warning the pair not to go out there. The skies were getting darker further out and he felt a storm rolling in, but it might be hours before it reached the shoreline.

Henry sailed the boat out on open waters and stopped the engine, and soon Killian could see him preparing the fishing rods. Emma was still arguing with her son about the safety of this, but Henry eased her worries and soon Emma had settled down on a crate on deck.

The sun disappeared behind grey clouds and before either Emma or Henry knew what hit them the rain started falling heavily. Henry scurried to get the engine started while Emma struggled to get the fishing rods packed away. In her haste, she stumbled over something on the deck. Her body slammed into the railing and she lost her balance. Killian could only watch in horror as Emma tumbled into the dark waters below. With a quick flip of his tail, he dived towards where Emma was slowly dropping to the bottom.

Henry’s cries for his mother were muffled by the water but they pierced through Killian like knives. He wasn’t about to leave this boy without his mother.

Emma wore her red leather jacket and it had weighed her down so much that she wasn’t able to swim upwards. Her eyes were filled with panic when Killian finally reached her.

Her body went limp in his arms as he ascended to the surface and broke up into the air. He looked down at the woman in his arms, her eyes closed, lips blue and lifeless.

“Mom?!” Henry’s frantic voice sounded from above, then “Killian is that you?”

Killian didn’t pay attention to the lad right now, all he cared about was the woman floating in his arms. Her skin was more and more pale and he leaned closer and realized she wasn’t breathing, her lips turning blue.

“Emma?” He called out frantically, his hand cradling her face.

“Give her mouth to mouth,” Henry called from above him.

Killian swallowed; he knew he had to breathe life into her, “Her magic will be lost.” He called back, his voice breaking, this couldn’t be happening.

“What?”

“My lips are cursed.” He looked up and when he spotted the bewilderment in the lad’s eyes he knew he’d screwed it up. Henry had no memory of magic or fairytale characters. There was no time to explain so the decision was all up to him and as he watched Emma lie lifeless in his arms his heart broke. He couldn’t live without this woman in his life, be damned her wrath if her magic was gone, he needed her.

Pressing his mouth to hers he breathed into her mouth, feeling her chest fill with air. A woosh of magic spread out around them and he felt his tail vanish and turn into a pair of legs again. The motion to keep them afloat changed but he managed to balance himself and Emma above water. He blew more air into her mouth and then Emma violently coughed up seawater.

“Killian?” Her voice was weak and her eyes searched his face, “What did you do?”

“You were drowning, I couldn’t… I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let you die, not like this. Not in front of your boy.”

“Mom?!” Henry bellowed from above them, “Are you okay?”

Emma gave her son a weak smile and wave before returning her focus to Killian. “You saved my life.” She cupped his face and he marveled at the feel of her hand against his cheek.

“Aye.” He swallowed deeply, “But your magic… I’m sorry love.”

“We’ll find another way to beat Zelena.” Emma soothed and pulled herself closer to him again and kissed him.

This time it was a real kiss, profound and filled with untold promises of a future together.

“I have a rope ladder here,” Henry called out and interrupted their kiss, both adults looked sheepishly up at the teenager who rolled his eyes. “Don’t go around doing that too much from now on, okay?”

“Aye, lad.”

Emma chuckled and coughed a little, clearly not fully recovered from her near-death experience.

“Come now love, let’s get us back home.” He maneuvered them both to the rope ladder Henry had dropped over the sides. “Are you okay going up on your own?”

“I’m fine, Captain.” Emma smiled and hauled herself up the ladder, slow and steady and Killian followed her to the deck where Henry greeted them both with a hug.

When Killian pulled away to get the boat started Henry stopped him, “Did you just have a tail before you saved my mother?” The lad’s eyebrows were lifted to his hairline.

“Henry.” Emma interjected and took her son’s arms, “There’s a lot of things that aren’t as they seem.” Emma looked at Killian, “Some things will be a bit hard to understand, but let me tell you why we’re really here in Storybrooke.” She urged him to sit on a crate and turned to Killian, “Get us back home.”

“Aye.” He saluted her with a grin and let mother and son talk alone on the deck while he took the wheel. The boat wasn’t as majestic as his old lady The Jolly Roger, but it would do for now. He watched Emma speak with her son, who looked more and more confused and sometimes even worried.

When they reached the dock they were greeted by Mary Margaret, David and Regina, who all looked relieved to see them all. Killian included, which surprised him a bit. But apparently, a lot of people had been worried about his whereabouts in the past few days.

“Mother.” Henry greeted Regina with a hug and when he pulled back, “Killian was a merman.”

Everyone gasped in surprise and a load of questions was thrown at him, he lifted his hands and said, “I’m here now in human form and that is what matters.” He grasped Emma’s hand, “We’re ready to fight off that green witch, any ideas what her plans are?”

Mary Margaret stepped forward and said, “Henry this is for you.” She presented him with a storybook, a very familiar storybook. “You need to believe.”

“In what?” Henry took the book and a burst of magic swirled around them and he gasped. “I remember.”

Everyone cheered and no one seemed to ask more about their adventure on the water, not until it became clear that Emma’s magic indeed was gone. But that was a worry for another time as the threat of Zelena still hung over Storybrooke.

All Killian cared about was having his legs back on dry land again and Emma by his side. He wanted her there for the rest of their lives if he had anything to say about it.

THE END

#ouat #once upon a time #killian jones #captain swan #fanfiction #emma swan #my writing #writers #writers on tumblr #ouat fanfiction #cssns24 #cssns2024 #mermaid

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dollfaced-erin · 1 year

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do you mean like requested scenarios in dragon's cradle? i do have one in mind though

cuz i was thinking what if dan jia (yes we going for the past setting) who likes to make use of her tail at it's fullest like poking someone, waving, comforting someone but instead of a back rub using hands, she uses her tail, it's like a third arm without fingers lmao

like imagine seeing the high cloud quintet finally coming home after a long arduous battle with the denizens of abundance and she just ran to dan feng for a hug after seeing him safe and sound but with the addition of her tail also wrapping around him so it's an extra tight hug i think it's just so cute 🥺

though if you do have other plans or dislike this idea you can just ignore this no pressure

sure !! i can do this one !! i dont mind if you want to use the past setting, i can always change dan jia's name to (y/n) because its a scenario, not part of the original plot. plus, it makes it more comfortable for readers !!

This honestly is very interesting for me to read ! Thank you for the suggestion anon !!

So lets get on with it !!

Taglist ! : -

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading

Reminder ! This is set in the past setting ! But instead of using Dan Jia, I would be using (Y/n) as an easier way for you to immerse yourselves ! I would also be renaming Blade to Yingxing ! But if you want me to change that, i can do that too !

Like Dan Feng, (Y/n) does have her tail which she keeps hidden. but from time to time, she does let it out for funsies ! It was a pretty blue color, like the color of her horns on her head and the fur is the same (h/c) color ! But she prefers to keep it hidden because its hard for her to sit down, and walk without realizing the presence of the darn extra limb. It even drapes to the floor !

Poor (Y/n)'s always so worried when the High Cloud Quintet go out to fight against the Denizens of Abundance. And as she is a healer, she is required to stay back and help with the numerous Cloud Knights that had retreated to seek medical attention from her.

Her worries usually intensifies whenever Jing Yuan comes back from battle, looking horribly injured and scratched up, bleeding here and there. Even for a general, he can still fall in battle, and that worries her alot ! She would push him to lay down on the stretchers she had prepared on the ground as she goes get some ointment.

But when she returns, he lays there perfectly fine, his hands behind his head and that playful and lazy ass smirk on his face. Jing Yuan would tell her the wounds were fake, even getting up and stretching to show her. (Y/n) would grip at her qi pao, trying to contain her anger, with a kind smile on her face when she was seething inside. Though she can hide her emotions from her face, her tail would pop out and give him a good smack in the side to show her annoyance.

Of course, Jing Yuan would merely laugh and apologize to her.

In a similar situation, Dan Feng would return to the battle unscathed. He didn't want to worry his sister unlike that jerk Jing Yuan who loved teasing (Y/n). After a long and arduous battle against the Denizens of Abundance, there was nothing more relaxing then just spending the night, staring at the moon.

Dan Feng would bring (Y/n) along, holding her hand tenderly as he lead her up the grassy hills, finding the perfect spot to admire the moon in silence while the others were wasting themselves away with alcohol. He loved that (Y/n) shared the same interest of watching the moon in silence, as they pointed out constellations of the stars.

They would then begin to talk while sitting up, to remove the sleepiness. It wasn't always that they had time like this, since Dan Feng is a High Elder and is always on the battlefield, while (Y/n) is in the backlines, healing the casualties of war. And as he told her he missed these peaceful and tranquil moments between siblings, he couldn't help but tear up.

(Y/n) would of course be saddened too. This was all stressful for the two of them. Since birth they have been burdened with heavy responsibilities, there was little to no time they had to spend on themselves. It was understandable why Dan Feng would breakdown from time to time.

Her little hands would hold his larger and calloused own, while her tail would gently wipe away Dan Feng's tears and rub at his back, earning a soft giggle from the latter.

During days when he wasn't at war, Yingxing would stay by the fire of the furnace he had installed is his home. He was indeed adept at creating weapons of war, sacrificing day and night as he shaped the weapons tirelessly. He never complained, but rather found his passion in creating such arts.

But whenever he wanted to take it easy, Yingxing would resort to making little things he adored. And that was beautiful little glass art or making accessories out of crystals. He always found them to be beautiful whenever they would shine like rainbows when hit with light from certain angles.

Once, he had invited (Y/n) out to hangout, Yingxing brought a little surprise with him. As she walked out of her home, he held her hand tenderly as he brought her to a beautiful lake, beneath the moonlight. And he surprised her with a bouquet of glass flowers that shone beautifully beneath the soft gaze of the moon, shining in different color.

(Y/n) eyes would immediately widen as she took the bouquet carefully in her hands, as if they were as fragile as glass (which they were, by the way), and set them aside tenderly. Then she would wrap her arms around the short-lived mortal tightly in her arms.

Yingxing would laugh as he looked down at the smaller dragon woman in his arms, wrapping his arms around her form. His aging grey hair began to cascade to the front of his face, obstructing his vision a little.

But Yingxing would closed his eyes and held the dragon lady close in his arms, chuckling, loving the warmth she exuded. The addition to the tail that slithered around his form wrapping him tighter to his beloved.

Outside of war and training, even Jingliu had a life of her own. She was a much more laxed individual. Some would even say she was too relaxed. She would stroll the streets, going on shopping sprees every so often, go cafe hunting, and trying out food. Of course, she would drag along the little princess of the Vidyadhara clan with her.

Jingliu loved bringing her to walk around the Exalting Sanctum. especially when there was a hot sale for dresses and shoes. Every time there was a new opening, or a new sale, Jingliu would be the first out of the five of them to pay a visit with beaming eyes and a large dreamy smile on her lips. She was the trendiest out of all of them, like, even her battle dresses are so elegant !

During the weekends, vendors would open up little stalls around the plaza and leading all around the area, lighting them up with friendly paper lanterns. Children would run around happily and couples would walk around, filling the night market with chatter and laughter, bringing warmth all around. And Jingliu loved bringing (Y/n) around every time they could, just for a little relaxation.

She was relieved that the uptight Imbibator Lunae would allow his little sister to go out for fun with her friend every once in a while, with the same old condition. Never let (Y/n) out of sight. And Jingliu was tired of hearing the same thing over and over again even though she was sure (Y/n) was able to take care of herself pretty well.

With their hands full of purchases from the market, ranging from snacks and delicacies to clothing and accessories, they had no hands free told hold hands in case they got separated. Every so often Jingliu would look next to her, just to make sure (Y/n) was there beside her.

But with the tail wrapped firmly around the sword master's waist, Jingliu had nothing to worry about. She was just looking to admire the soft smile and the gleam of happiness in (Y/n)'s eyes.

Starskiff watching...how she loved to roam the galaxy once more. This was a constant thought of the Foxian with purple hair that laid on the lap of her friend. Baiheng would bring (Y/n) starskiff watching every now and then to unwind, finding the latter's presence to be quite soothing.

Was this the effect of all healers ? To be this warm and nurturing ? Baiheng didn't know. But she did like the feeling of (Y/n)'s hands running through her fluffy purple hair.

Once in a while, Baiheng would even sneak (Y/n) out to bring her starskiff flying. She knew that the grumpy older brother would never let (Y/n) out to play in the sky because as he said, 'It was too dangerous for her ! What if she gets hurt?' she would mimic. And (Y/n) would laugh along, and follow her to the jetty.

All Foxians were a little daring to their short lives compared to Vidyadharas, and Baiheng was no exception !

But one time they snuck out successfully, both of them were already seated in the airship, excited for their little fly in the sky. Baiheng would show her a toothy grin, revealing her sharp canines, excited to bring (Y/n) on a wild ride. They soon landed perfectly after showcasing a number of tricks, yelling in excitement and thrill.

That was, until someone knocked on Baiheng's side of the starskiff, only to be met with the furious eyes of teal.

The two were seated on the wooden floor with Dan Feng lecturing them to no end. Despite their heads bowed in shame, they were actually trying to hide the happy smiles on their faces. No one could remove them of those gleeful smiles as they experienced the endeavors in the blue sky.

The wagging of Baiheng's fluffy purple tail and the constant slithering of (Y/n)'s own did nothing to cover up for them. Dan Feng just sighed in return, finding it futile to reason with the two girls in front of him.

End note : THIS WAS REALLY FUN TO WRITE ! i honestly dont mind if you guys want a past setting, present setting without the fights, modern day AU, or separate scenarios ! just specify them, and I'll try my best to fulfil your requests !

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