paddockletters · 2 days ago
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style pit stop | max verstappen
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pairing: max verstappen x reader summary: Max lets y/n dress him up for a change, showing off a new look at the paddock author´s note: first story with Max, and you have no idea how much I enjoyed it! I've been wanting to write for him for a while, and well, I loved the result and hope you do too.
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It started as a casual comment during breakfast in our hotel room, the sun pouring through the windows, illuminating the crisp white sheets of our bed. Max and I were preparing for the upcoming race weekend, and the atmosphere was light, filled with the excitement that always accompanied a race.
“Max, I swear your entire closet is just Red Bull jackets, white T-shirts, and jeans. Nothing else,” I said, leaning over the table, eyeing his typical outfit of the day.
 “I happen to think I’ve got a classic style. Simple and effective.” Max raised an eyebrow, feigning offense.
 “Simple is an understatement. I mean, even AlphaTauri has given you all this fancy stuff to try, and you just let it sit there. Have you even worn half of it?” I rolled my eyes playfully.
“What am I supposed to do with half of that? Wear it to a race? You’d just laugh.” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee
“Of course I’d laugh!” I retorted, grinning. “But I’d also help you look better. Bet you wouldn’t let me dress you for one day, then. Try something different.”
 “Fine. I’ll take your bet. But if anyone laughs, you’re paying for dinner.” Max chuckled, clearly intrigued.
Within minutes, I was rummaging through his suitcase, pulling out the neglected AlphaTauri clothes he claimed were “too much effort” to style. I held up a pristine white button-up and slim-fit black trousers, a sleek gray turtleneck, and a pair of black boots that had clearly never seen the light of day.
“Look at this! You could rock this outfit!” I said, holding the turtleneck against his chest.
Max gave me a skeptical look as he reluctantly pulled it on, but I couldn't help grinning as he finally stood up. The way it hugged his frame was… honestly, distracting.
 “It feels kind of tight.” He turned to the mirror, tugging at the sleeves.
“It’s supposed to fit,” I insisted, smirking. “Now, for the trousers.”
Max fumbled a bit with the slim black pants, grumbling as he zipped them up.
“I look like I’m about to go to some fancy dinner,” he complained, though I could see he was beginning to enjoy the attention.
“Exactly the point,” I replied, holding up the leather boots. “And these. They’ll add a bit of height too.”
He scoffed but slipped them on anyway, taking a few exaggerated steps around the room like he was testing new racing boots.
“Happy now?”
“Very,” I replied, snapping a quick photo. “Now let’s get to the paddock before you change your mind.”
The reaction at the paddock was priceless. As soon as we stepped in, Lando spotted us and nearly choked on his coffee, doing a double-take.
“Wait, Max… are you actually dressed up? Did y/n have a part in this?”
“Blame her,” Max said, giving me a mock glare.
“Mate, I didn’t even know you owned a turtleneck. You look like you’re about to do a TED Talk.” Lando circled him, taking in the outfit.
“Or go to a very exclusive dinner,” Pierre teased, coming up next to us, flashing me a grin. “Nice work, y/n. About time someone taught him some style.”
 “Alright, you’ve all had your fun. Can we please get back to normal now?” Max rolled his eyes, giving me a helpless look.
“Oh, no way,” I laughed, linking my arm with his. “You’re keeping it on all day. And just think, you’re setting new fashion standards for the grid.”
As we entered the Red Bull hospitality, the reactions came in waves: team members did double takes, fans gasped, and then there was Checo, who took one look at Max and immediately burst into laughter.
“Dios mío, Max! I didn’t even recognize you,” Checo said, giving me a grin. “So, y/n finally got her way?”
“Finally?” I echoed, pretending to be offended. “Please, Checo. It wasn’t even that hard. A little style goes a long way.” 
Christian strolled over, eyebrows raised as he took in Max’s look.
“Well, well, Max, didn’t know you had it in you,” he joked, clapping Max on the back. “AlphaTauri’s sales will skyrocket after today. You could be their new poster boy.”
“Honestly, I think we should get her to dress all the drivers. Just imagine how well AlphaTauri would sell with these outfits!” Checo chimed in, a teasing glint in his eyes.
 “I’ll dress all of you if you want. Just wait until I’m done with Max.” I laughed, joining in the fun.
“You’re all too easily impressed. But maybe y/n should take her fashion skills elsewhere and help Checo. He could use the help.” Max smirked, glancing at me
“Oh no, Max, you’re on your own with this one. Besides, I doubt I could pull off the ‘turtleneck model’ look as well as you.” Checo raised his hands in defence, shaking his head with a laugh.
I snickered, nudging Checo playfully.
“Are you sure? I was thinking I could start dressing you and Max in matching outfits. You know, really take this team bonding to the next level.”
Max chuckled, draping an arm around my shoulders.
“You hear that, Checo? Get ready. Y/N’s got big plans for you, too.”
 “If this turns into some kind of Red Bull makeover challenge, I’m blaming both of you.” Christian couldn’t contain his laughter, shaking his head.
Checo leaned in, stage-whispering to me.
“Just don’t let her get me in that turtleneck, okay? I have a reputation to keep.”
“Noted,” I replied with a wink. “But we’ll see what I can do.”
By the time we reached the main area, I was wearing his oversized Red Bull jacket, practically swimming in it, while he strutted around in his AlphaTauri ensemble.
Fans caught on quickly, cameras flashing as they captured the two of us walking arm in arm, with Max.
“Look, there’s your fan club,” I teased, nudging him playfully as we passed a group of fans eagerly pointing their cameras at him.
Max smirked, leaning down to whisper. “I bet they wish I’d dress like this all the time.”
We reached his garage, and one of the engineers gave him an approving nod.
“You clean up well, Verstappen,” he commented, giving me a grin. “And y/n, you’re pulling off the Red Bull look better than he does.”
 “Unbelievable. I get roasted in my own team garage?” Max pretended to be offended.
“You’re the one who agreed to this!” I teased, nudging him as we walked further inside.
He shook his head, pulling me closer. “Just remember this next time you’re insisting I need more ‘style.’ I went through a whole day looking like some model just to prove you wrong.”
“Oh, please,” I laughed, leaning into him. “Admit it—you loved it.”
Max grinned, brushing a quick kiss to my temple. “Maybe. But only because I have you to make it fun.”
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yourstru1y4ever · 3 days ago
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Day 24 - "Shh, do you want them to hear us?”
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto x F!Reader Word Count: 1181 Content: SMUT! 18+ MDNI (fingering, cunnilingus, threesome), praise (gotta love good girl), non-curse AU and some fluff too I guess?? Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!
A/N: Hey slays so this is a concept of something i’ve been wanting to write for a while now of a Ballerina AU, where Reader is a ballerina and Satoru and Suguru are martial artists. . . so consider this a small taste of what I want to write out more!
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Because of your injury there wasn’t much you could do today. Suguru and Satoru made sure the kids would have their breakfast and get to school on time, not wanting you to lift a finger or get out of bed.
They promised that they would take care of everything for you today, although you figured Suguru was doing most of the work as per usual when those two were left to their own devices.
The three of you had history together, that much was obvious but when you moved away without telling them for years you knew it would take time to build that trust again. Returning back to Tokyo unannounced certainly was a shock but they welcomed you in with open arms.
And once again as you were around them longer and longer, that familiar tension started building in the air, touches that lasted a little too long, sleeping together on the couch, and the kisses you felt on your head whenever they thought you were asleep.
It was all of that build up that led you to grab your vibrator to relieve some of that tension within you. It was a conversation you three needed to have with each other, you were sure they felt the same but yet something held you back from fully admitting your feelings to them again.
You brought your vibrator to your clit, moving it in slow circles before turning it on to its lowest setting. You wanted to take your time with this, make sure you were in a clear headspace before seeing them both again. You didn’t realize the time however and they came home a lot sooner than you were expecting.
Satoru barged into your bedroom without warning, “You’ll never believe what Suguru-” He shuts his mouth and can’t help but stare at you as you stare back at him with the same shock, forgetting about the buzzing vibrator between your legs. You throw your head back and swear, trying to turn off the vibrator.
“I’m sorry-” 
“Hey Suguru!” Satoru grins, looking away from you for one moment, you finally turn off your vibrator and you start covering yourself up, “Wait-!”
“No, no. Stay right there,” He tells you, looking back. You can’t help but stay still under his gaze, his smirk causing you to flush.
“What is it-?” Suguru finally makes it upstairs and looks inside to see you covering yourself with your bedsheet, looking away from both of their gazes, “Oh.”
“I’m sorry!” You repeat, not noticing them getting closer. Satoru shuts your door and locks it while Suguru comes over to you, gently grabbing your chin so that you could look at him.
“Didn’t we tell you we would be taking care of everything today?” He asks and you feel Satoru sitting on your bed, placing a hand on your thigh.
“I-” You look away from Suguru but he forces you to look at him once more, waiting patiently for your response, “Yes.” you breathe out.
“Then let us do our job sweetheart,” Satoru says, his hand moving towards your bedsheet. They both look at you, waiting for your response. They would stop in an instant if you were uncomfortable but- “Okay,” You whisper, nodding to both of them.
Suguru tilts your head towards him once more and pulls you into a searing kiss. You match him instantly, pushing your head against his, showing how much you’ve missed this. You feel Satoru move your bedsheet down and you feel him kissing down your body, making sure to give proper attention to your breasts. 
You moan into Suguru’s mouth as Satoru continues to work his way down, being careful of your injured leg. Suguru moves his hand from your chin down your body, massaging your breasts to keep hearing you moan. Satoru brings his head close to your cunt, but he quickly swipes his fingers along your folds, groaning.
“You’re already so wet for us sweetheart,” Satoru says as he gets into a more comfortable position. Suguru moves his hand to feel your dripping cunt. Pulling away from you, he grins wickedly as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, taking a taste of you. 
“Satoru, taste her, she’s delicious,” He says, going down to where Satoru is and kisses him.
Satoru keeps his hand by your cunt, slowly working his fingers in and out while they kiss. You start squirming under his touch, bucking your hips up to his hand every time he pulls it away. When they move away from each other, Satoru goes back down to your cunt, bringing his face immediately to your wet folds.
You moan loudly as he starts eating you out, Suguru bringing his hand back down to rub slow circles on your clit while Satoru licks up every part of you.
“Better than that vibrator I hope?” Suguru asks and all you can do is nod your head, overwhelmed by both of them touching you at once. He starts kissing you again and you bring one hand to Satoru’s head, gripping onto his hair as you bring your other down Suguru’s chest, bringing it right to his hardened cock. His breath stutters a moment as you gently rub the outline of his cock.
You feel Satoru moaning against your cunt and you grip onto his hair tighter, starting to feel that familiar coil in your lower stomach as Suguru keeps rubbing on your clit.
Suguru suddenly snaps his head towards your door, slowing his movements. Neither you nor Satoru notice the noise happening downstairs. Suguru brings his hand up to cover your mouth before you moan again, “Shh, do you want them to hear us?”
Satoru pulls away from you as your eyes widen realizing what he meant; the girls and Megumi were all back from school and are probably making a mess of the kitchen.
“I wanted us to take our time with you,” Suguru tells you, his hand still on your mouth, “For now can you stay quiet for us?” You nod and he smiles, “Good girl.” He looks back at Satoru, nodding.
He moves his hand back down to your clit, rubbing fast circles as Satoru swipes his tongue against your folds, going back down. Both of them bring you right back to the edge. You bite your lip, trying hard not to moan their names as you feel yourself starting to cum against Satoru’s face.
Suguru keeps rubbing circles on your clit, helping you ride out your climax until you start pulling away from both of them. 
Satoru laughs, looking completely blissed out while Suguru gives you a quick kiss.
“Such a good girl,” He praises and you can’t help but blush. 
“What about you both?” You ask quietly as Suguru moves away from you.
“We’ll be fine~” Satoru slurs, laying his head on your thigh and Suguru just shakes his head.
“I’ll grab some water, a washcloth, and make sure that the kids haven’t killed themselves yet. Like we told you sweetheart, we’re taking care of everything today, there’s no need to worry about us.”
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badgerbl00d · 16 hours ago
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you've reached situationship central!
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☆ characters: law, kidd (pt. 1)
☆ up next: TBA
☆ summary: being stuck in an on again off again (very indulgent) relationship with either the surgeon of death or captain eustass kidd requires a great deal of patience
☆ content: angsty, happy ending, nsfw, smut, complicated relationship drama, kidd is scottish, 18+ mdni
☆ a/n: hellooo i am finally settled at my uni and hoping to begin writing regularly again and start going through my requests (thank you for all of them by the way).. please enjoy me writing about my top two op crushes rnn <3
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law: 
#i’d forgive him so fast oops | 3.3k words
With Law, all of your meetings are at midnight or after, he’s painfully careful to ensure that no one has even the slightest clue of what your relationship has begun to blossom into– He’s scared of course. Anything could go wrong; his rationality is placed at risk every time you walk past him and he allows himself to indulge (even if for just a second) in the smell of your perfume– strong and floral. It lingers even after you’ve walked past him, ignoring him just like he asked you to do during the working hours on board the Polar Tang. Law does what he can to suppress the sting he feels when you, oh so obediently, listen to him. You do your job too well, he thinks, not even sparing him a glance if you’re not being directly addressed. ‘This is your own fault’, he has to remind himself. It pains him when the crew stays up late playing poker and cards and drinking alcohol, talking about all your hopes and dreams, when you entertain your crewmates with stories and he hears about how you’re there for them all in times of difficulty, a listening ear, a supporting friend, an emotional anchor to the crew. 
Maybe, he thinks, I should end it. He knows that that’s the right answer, if you’re just friends he might allow himself to be welcomed into the radiance and warmth around you that he denies himself and has instructed you to deny to him. He’s too scared to lose you now.
On late nights, Law lays in bed, his room hazy from the cigarette he lets burn in an ashtray you gifted him and he thinks about the few direct conversations you’ve had about your… situation. That’s what you had called it, “Law,” you had said, “We have to talk about…”
“About what?” He still beats himself up over how he delivered that question, biting and poisonous. He can’t shake the memory of the frown it elicited on your face. 
“Y/n, we don’t have to talk. Please, let’s not talk. Talking means we have to confront the reality of the situation.”
That was what he should’ve said. Instead his tongue betrayed him, acting faster than he could register. About what? Idiot, he thought. 
You took a deep breath before answering him, “About us, Law. Our… situation.” 
He had scoffed at you. Let out an indifferent huff, as though the matter was beneath him. His chest aches when he thinks about it now. The hurt on your face was so obvious. 
“So talk.” 
It was dark that night. He can’t remember if tears pooled on your lower lashes, or if it was a trick of the slight bit of light pouring into the dark room. He chooses to believe the latter option. 
“What are we doing? I can’t… I don’t want to continue like this. Secret and hidden– I want to, I want to be able to talk to you during the day. To tell you about how I am and ask you about yourself I want to help you and be there for you. To kiss you whenever and hold your hand–”
“So do I,” he should have said, “I want that too.”
“You are there for me,” was his reply, instead, “As my trusted crewmate. And I never said you couldn’t talk to me, but I maintain my position. We can’t be discovered, the risks are-”
“Oh!” you exclaimed, sighing, “The risks? Our entire life is a risk. You think the crew would care? And what does it matter what you’ve said– it’s how you act. I’ve tried talking to you and you treat me with such an awful indifference Law. I respect your intelligence and leadership so please don’t act stupid. 
What am I to you?”
He paused. Wrong move.
Your bottom lip trembled as you closed your eyes and inhaled. His memory doesn’t serve him very well but if you did cry that night it was now that the tears flowed. 
“Okay,” you said, your voice incredibly soft. You had accepted defeat. He wanted to tear his skin off. This was agony. Why couldn’t he just say what he felt? 
“I want you,” he says to himself now, picking the cigarette back up, placing it between his lips, “I love you.” 
Three weeks too late, he thinks. The cigarette burns in the back of his throat, his chest filling with an uncomfortable warmth. 
The last few weeks had been uncomfortable to say the least. You refused to talk to him, and he didn’t blame you. He barely saw you, the last time he’d gotten a proper look at your face was six days ago now. You looked beautiful, maybe he should have said something. 
He lost track of time. An hour has passed now since he laid down to smoke, or has it been two? His head is spinning, never has regret gripped his heart so aggressively. 
The aching in his chest tugs him out of bed and into the hallway. He finds himself walking toward the library where he knows you’ll be. 
Where less than a month ago you were sat on his lap, soft arms gently wrapped around his shoulders as he kissed up and down your arms, buried inside you.
He missed your warmth, the way just being in your presence felt like sitting next to a fireplace, drinking a cup of tea. Your touch soft and reassuring, Fuck, he thinks, fuck.
The coolness of the metal floor jolts him out of his daze, he’s moving with a purpose now. 
It’s not too late, he reassures himself. 
The library door is closed, a warm light pours out into the cool, blue hallway from underneath the door. His hand hovers over the door knob for a moment, listening. Silence. 
Law gently opens the door, and is welcomed by the sight of you fast asleep on Shachi’s shoulder, your crewmate’s arm wrapped around you.
Law pauses, Shachi looks up. He subdues the jealousy that quickly spreads throughout his body.
Shachi shoots him a look, as if to say, “I’m doing my best.”
Law’s throat hurts, speaking is too risky. He sends back a puzzled look.
Shachi beckons him over, placing his free hand up to his lips, “Shh.”
Law’s head feels like it’s about to explode. He can’t do this right now. His stomach twists at the sight of his crewmate’s arm around you. He was always so mesmerized by how you slept– envious, even, at how gently your eyes closed, how your soft lips parted once you were out, how deeply you slept. 
His mind slips from him, replaying memories of how you’d cling to him when spending the night in his room, your arms securely around his neck, your face tucked into him. The sound of you giggling in the morning when he’d wake you up with kisses peppered all over your face and neck, trailing down and down your body. He inhales, trying to recollect himself– The memory of your body is overpowering. His hands clench into fists at his sides.
“She’s been asleep for about two hours,” Shachi started. Law’s chest tightened, two hours?
“I didn’t know what to say to her. She’s so… sad. Some guy, I think, broke her heart. Or, is currently breaking it. I don’t want to pry. Maybe you should talk to her?”
Law concentrated all of his efforts on answering his subordinate to avoid collapsing to the floor and begging you for forgiveness right then and there, Shachi be damned. His worst crime, in all of his life, he thought, is to have done this to you. 
The thought of being ‘some guy’ that broke your heart nauseates him, he has to fix this.
“Captain?” Shachi seemed to have picked up on Law’s distress.
“Shachi,” Law started, his eyes fixed on you– his expression must have been something pained, or regretful, “Leave her here. Go to bed.”
Shachi’s brows furrowed. Law tore his eyes away from you to look at him, “I’ll take care of her.” 
The redhead quickly picked up on the subtext and inhaled, about to say something but bit his tongue. Shachi gently removed his arm from around your shoulders, propping your head up on the sofa behind you and stood quietly, making room for Law. 
“Captain,” he started, shooting him a look that wasn’t quite placeable. Disappointment? Anger? It wasn’t either, perhaps something in between, he decided you were capable enough to handle this yourself, “I’ll see you in the morning.” 
Law sat down next to you. He wanted to laugh. You had a way about you, even in such a moment of difficulty for Law, that made him want to give into you completely. God knows he had spent every second he’d known you fighting that urge. You slept on, completely undisturbed by any of the commotion around you. A strand of hair fell across your face, an obstruction to an otherwise perfect view. He brought a hand up to it, gently pushing it to the side, tucking it behind your ear. You stir, slightly. 
He hates himself, he thinks as he brings a firm hand to your arm, and gently shakes you to a conscious state. 
You wake with droopy eyelids, sleep still generously distributed throughout your body. It pains him to wake you, he knows you need the rest. He watches your lashes touch your rosy cheeks as you blink your eyes open, gathering your surroundings. You yawn, stretching your hands above your head, your shirt rising just enough to show off your lower tummy. Law curses whatever devil placed you in his life. 
“Mmm.. What time ‘s it, Chi?” you ask. Jealousy rears its ugly head in Law’s chest at the use of a nickname for Shachi. 
Law clears his throat, “One twenty three in the morning.” 
You jolt, straightening your posture, upon recognizing your captain’s unmistakably deep, tired voice. 
“Law,” you say, looking at him, “I was just leaving, actually. Shachi was supposed to wake me up an hour ago..” You adjust the hem of your shirt and push your hair out of your face. An awkward silence filled the room– an awful reminder of how fucked up your… situation had become. 
You can’t bear it, Law can tell, any more than he can. Your discomfort is obvious and he hates to be the root of it. 
“Well, goodnight,” you say standing. Your voice wavers. 
“Y/n,” Law says, “Sit. Please.” 
You wanted nothing more than to tell him to fuck off. You’d even rehearsed it with Ikkaku.
“Fuck you Law,” you’d practiced, “Fuck you and never speak to me again I never want to be around you. You’re so…”
That was usually where Ikkaku would have some suggestions:
“Immature? Selfish? Mean? Evil? Misogynistic? Fuck that guy.”
“Yeah,” you’d agree, “But I don’t think I can say that to him directly, he is the Captain after all.”
“He’s also a doctor,” she’d observed, “But you don’t seem very healed to me.”
These conversations replayed in your head as you sat down, following his orders. 
You kept your gaze focused downward, your bare feet shuffled awkwardly against the carpet. 
“We should vacuum this,” you said, “Feels kinda dusty.” 
Silence settled between the two of you. It was unbearable. 
You continued, “I’ll mention it to Penguin, um, I know he likes stuff cleaned a certain way. And, oh, right, I meant to tell you about the books we’re picking up at the next port. They ran out of the edition of the Watson book you ordered–”
“Y/n.”
You shut up. You could feel the tears start to well in your eyes. No, goddamnit, you thought, Don’t give him the satisfaction.
“I’m… sorry.”
You looked up at him, a puzzled expression on your face. 
“No, you’re not,” you said. If there were any other noise coming from anywhere on the ship he would not have heard you, you spoke so quietly. 
“No, you’re not,” you repeated. 
Law inhaled, guilt had never had such a physically debilitating effect on his body. 
“Y/n, listen. I am. I can’t sleep, or eat, or think, I can’t–”
“Neither can I, so, thanks for that. It’s been a great few weeks for me.”
He swallowed.  
“Please look at me.” 
You look up, your cheeks coated in two parallel streaks of tears. His eyes are red, the bags under them a deep shade of gray. He really hasn’t slept. You curse yourself as you reach a hand up to his face, and scoot yourself into his lap.
His strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, chest to chest, and he places his forehead against yours. 
You feel a small string of tears fall into your lap. He’s crying, you realize. 
“I fucked up,” he says, “I’m sorry.”
He runs a hand up and down your back, it’s unfortunately soothing. You want so badly to push him off of you- deny his touch and affection, but as his hand slows and his grip on you tightens, as he pulls you into him even further and allows himself to indulge in the feeling of your body against his you know that you’ve once again fallen into his trap. 
“I can’t keep doing this, Captain.”
There was a time when hearing his title come from your lips elicited an unspeakably sinful desire within him. Hearing it from your mouth was such a delicious indulgence. Now he knows you use it to distance yourself from him- to avoid using his name. 
“I know, baby,” he says, “I know.”
You sit up in his lap, wiping your tears. 
“I can fix this,” he reassures you, “I promise.”
“How? What is there to fix?”
He’s silent.
“I thought about what you said, that night,” you continue.
‘That night,’ he wants to blow his brains out. That terrible night when he started this, when he couldn’t answer a simple question, when he started the downward spiral of the past three weeks, the tension between the two of you getting worse with each passing day. 
“You’re right, Law,” you went on, “To not have answered my question. We aren’t anything. You’re my captain and I’m your crewmate– nothing more, nothing less.”
You both knew that was a lie. Here you were in the dim candlelight on the library couch, the navy blue ocean stirring just outside the glass window behind you, sitting on his lap letting him hold you. He pulled you into his chest, laying your head down onto his shoulder. You let him. It was a delicate thing, to play such a game of cat and mouse, your roles always shifting back and forth. You let yourself be pulled into him, sinking into his touch, arching your back into his chest doing whatever possible to be closer to him for even just a moment. 
He brought a hand up to run through your hair, and rested his cheek on the side of your head. 
The silence was less bitter this time. You both sit in it for several minutes, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck.
You try to resist the urge for a split second, and then, as usual, cave into his touch. You place a soft kiss on his neck (a spot of complete and absolute weakness for Law). He responds with a kiss on your head. 
He inhales, and you brace yourself.
“Y/n.”
You don’t respond. 
“I love you.” 
Your cheeks immediately are covered by an onslaught of tears you hadn’t even felt forming. You sniffle, wrapping your arms around him tighter. He squeezes you harder, before making you sit up and look at him, face to face. 
He’s given up. He’s never been more fucked than he is now. He watches you, your expression, for a moment. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, he thinks, cheeks pink from his body heat, lashes damp from the tears.
“Y/n, I am sorry,” he wipes away your tears with one hand, the other tangling itself into your hair. You sniffle, a frown settling on your face.
“I want you,” he confesses, “Always. I think about you always and I can’t sleep and I’ve been telling myself that it’s because of work but it’s you. I can’t sleep without you. I can’t think without you. Everything reminds me of you, my pillow still smells like you, your clothes show up in my laundry, you have jewelry on my desk I can’t escape you. I don’t want to.”
You softened at this admission, but with Law there was always a catch. 
“But?” you ask.
He sighs, “If anything were to happen to you I’d be responsible. It felt better, safer to end, or deny things and keep you safe than keep going and risk your safety.”
“I’m a pirate, Law, I’m at risk anyway. Don’t lie to me, that’s not the only reason.”
He kisses your forehead, “I know, I know. I am worried about the risks of another crew finding out or, god forbid, the navy. But I can’t… be without you. I haven’t slept or eaten or… worked, really. I’m scared you don’t feel the same.”
You don’t what overcomes you in that moment, but the next thing you know your lips are attached to his, his hand pulling you into him by your neck.
You whine when he pulls back, ignoring the tears flowing down your cheeks.
He kisses your nose, your forehead, your cheeks as he wipes your tears whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay… I’m sorry.”
His lips find yours again, and he kisses you more aggressively this time– it’s carnivorous and hungry, his grip on your waist tightens enough to bruise and you wince. 
“L-Law, be gentle,” you whimper.
His grip softens slightly and he pulls away from your mouth to start planting sloppy, wet kisses on your neck.
You mewl, arching your back into him completely melting at his touch. Soft moans escape you as you tug at the hem of his shirt, helping him pull it off.
You run a hand over his abs, savoring the view as he helps you take your own shirt off. 
“Wait, Y/n, wait,” Law manages to get out, his breath heavy and fast, “What are we?”
You laugh, kissing him, slipping your tongue between his lips. He moans and you ignore his question. You pull away a sticky string of saliva connecting your puffy pink lips to his. You can feel how hard he is beneath you, and grind down on it ever so slightly. 
Law bites back a moan, throwing his head back on the couch leaving his neck wide open for you. You gently bite down on his neck, kissing it after. 
You missed him so badly, no one had ever brought out in you what Law did. His confession immediately healed all the previous wounds he’d inflicted on your heart, wounds that only he would have been able to heal anyway.  
“Law, I need you,” you cry.
“I’m here, baby, I’m right here,” he coos, holding you.
“I need you, always. Not conditionally. Not after midnight. Always.”
He sighs, a silent acknowledgement of his wrongs. 
“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ve never… felt like this. I didn’t want to mess up, I suppose. Or ruin things between us. I’d rather stop this and still be able to see you every day than have you be mine and lose you for it.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Law. I promise.”
He places another kiss on your forehead, sleep begins to take over in Law.  
“Law,” you pout, sitting up, “It’s cold.”
He blinks, taking a moment to process your words, savoring the way you say his name, “Okay, baby, let’s go to my room. Stay the night? Please?”
You think about it for a second, “Okay.”
“I love you,” he says.
You pause. His chest tightens. 
“I love you, too.”
Law picks you up, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as he walks back through the Polar Tang, toward his room. 
He smiles, you’re going to be upset about the smell of smoke. 
“Baby,” he says.
“Hm.”
“Let’s tell everyone at breakfast, tomorrow.”
You perk up, “Tell them what?”
He laughs, and kisses the top of your head, “That you’re mine.”
kidd: 
my fav scottish #pussypounder | 3.9k words
Your vision begins to blur at the edges, as Kidd’s grip on your neck tightens ever so slightly. You’d complain if you were able to form any thoughts other than enjoying the rhythmic slap of his hips against your ass, your mind numb as you begin to drool from the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your clit. You yelp at the sudden sharp pain of Kidd’s metal hand slapping your ass, it energizes you to match his thrusts halfway. Kidd loves watching you fuck yourself on his big, fat dick in doggy-style, his chest swells with pride at his ability to reduce you to such a pathetic, whiny personal slut for him. The sound of sloppy, wet slaps fills the room, a consistent tempo of plap, plap, plap.
“Feel good, lassie?” Kidd laughs, his pace never faltering.
“Mmmff, fuckkk Kidd, please don’t stop!”
“I‘m getting close, love,” his voice now slightly strained, “Where should I finish, hm?”
“Inside,” you beg, “Please, inside!”
You yelp as his metal hand once again makes harsh contact with the fat of your ass, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let bliss take over, now approaching your own end. 
“Kidd,” you whine, “Gonna… cum!”
“That’s right, lassie, cream all over me,” Kidd growls. 
His thick accent makes your clit throb, and he can feel you tightening around him.
“Ya like when I talk to ya like that?” his hand moved from your neck to the base of your scalp where he roughly grabbed a generous handful of hair, yanking your head back as he bent over to kiss you.
“Mhmmm,” you moan, your mind completely hazy from the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, “Mmf mmm-”
Kidd pulls away, a deep laugh filling the room, “What’s that, love?”
“Gonna.. cum, daddy!”
Your captain’s pace slows ever so slightly, he savors every inch of pleasure he can draw from your drooling pussy– you know he’s close. 
“Cum with me, sweetheart,” he commands.
It only takes a few more strokes before you oblige, sinking further into the mattress as you release your orgasm and feel Kidd finishing inside you. He indulges you in a few more strokes; he loves watching the creamy, wet mixture the two of you produce whenever he cums inside of you.
“Good girl,” he says as he slowly pulls out, before collapsing on the bed next to you.
“C’mere,” he beckons you toward him, patting his chest for you to lay on. You obey. He brings a hand to your neck, and kisses the top of your head before closing his eyes. He starts snoring a few minutes later. 
To say sex with Kidd was amazing would be the understatement of the year, it was heavenly, divine, rough, passionate, wonderful. He knew your body better than his own, being with him was indescribably delicious. The sex you had filled your mind for days and days after, so much so that Kidd had begun to recognize it on your face when you were thinking about your latest encounter. A dazed, hazy look would cloud your eyes during meetings, dinner, days out in the towns you stopped at. It drove Kidd insane, knowing you were thinking about him that much– and, for the most part, he was always happy to indulge. 
Pulling you (and your panties) to the side whenever he had time, Kidd was a very generous man when it came to you, always happy to give you exactly what you needed. After all, he’d tell himself, he needed you functioning at full capacity and if this was how he needed to remind you of that, who was he to complain? 
He was just as entranced by you, though he’d never admit it out loud. More than once he caught himself seeking you out just to talk, to spend time in your presence. He’d come up with poorly thought out, half-assed excuses to be near you.
“Y/n,” he’d say, “Come help me in the workshop lass, you have small enough hands to fix this screw.”
Or, “Come hold this light while I work, love.”
“Come read with me, sweetheart, I need your opinion on the best kind of metal to use.”
“Grab me an apple from the kitchen, will ya, lassie?”
It was obvious to you, of course, given that it was a fault you yourself echoed through your own actions. 
“Kidd, can you zip up my dress for me?”
“Kidd, could you fasten my necklace for me?”
“Kidd, taste this, tell me if it’s good.”
“Kidd, Kidd, Kidd…”
Everyone else on the crew found it endearing, you brought out something mature in their Captain– which they greatly appreciated. 
“Looks like he just needed to be having sex regularly,” Wire joked. 
You couldn’t disagree. 
You and Kidd worked so well together, you’d found yourselves fighting back to back a handful of times now moving in sync with one another, not having to communicate, simply understanding how the other thinks, moves, works. 
You lost count of how many nights you’d spent in his room, and vice versa. It was terrible to admit but you were attached. You slept better with his chest against your back, strong arm wrapped around you. Your day was better when you woke up to his snoring and got to kiss him awake. 
You laid now on his chest, sweat drying on your forehead and back, wincing internally. 
This wasn’t great. 
Yes, you worked well together and the sex was amazing– but you hadn’t quite worked your way up to admitting that maybe there was a deeper attachment brewing, and you knew your Captain was definitely not thinking that way at all. 
Besides, there was something freeing about the casualty of it all. Kidd was there when you were unbearably horny (which had been often, as of late) and you were there when he was (which, again, had been quite often as of late). 
No strings attached! That was a good thing… Right? You were free to do as you wished, see other people, reconnect with old flames you crossed paths with on the open ocean, and there were no worries about childish feelings or getting hurt. 
Right?
Kidd had fallen asleep, you could hear his soft snores and his hand that had been rubbing your back had fallen limp by his side. 
Fuck, you thought. This wouldn’t do. You liked Kidd, but he was the last person on Earth you needed to fall in love with.
You slowly sat up, inching your way to the edge of the bed. You went to stand, when you were jerked back by a metal finger pulling you by the hem of your panties.
“Where’re ya goin’?” He asked, voice deep and raspy with sleep.
You ignored the heat between your legs. 
“To bed, Kidd. Goodnight.”
He laughed, “Come lay down then.”
You were silent. Why shouldn’t you? You’d slept with him hundreds of times before. 
No attachments. 
“I… sleep better in my bed,” you said. Awful excuse, you noted. 
“Alright then,” he sat up, yawning, “Let’s go to your room, then.”
“Kidd…” you started. You didn’t know what to say. What were you feeling? Attachment? Love? Had you ever really been in love before? What did that even feel like? 
The nature of your relationship was unspoken but mutually understood. This, whatever this was, was casual, no strings attached, sexual, non-exclusive. 
He sat up, making his way to the edge of the bed to sit next to you, “Somethin’ wrong?”
This wasn’t supposed to be hard. It was supposed to be fun, easy, a stress reliever. 
“Um, yeah, I just– I started my period so I have to go wash up and stuff. I’ll see you in the morning,” you lied. 
Something’s wrong, Kidd thought. Say something, he urged himself. 
“Let me take care of you, lassie,” he said, gently placing an arm around your waist, “Think a bit of blood bothers Captain Eustass Kidd?”
You let out an unconvincing laugh, “It’s alright Kidd, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
You stood, making your way to the door. 
“Alright,” he sighed, lying back down on his bed, sure now that something was wrong with you, “But give me a kiss before ya go.”
You paused at the door, back to your Captain. 
A moment passed.
Another moment. 
“Goodnight then, Y/n.”
You walked out, closing the door behind you, cursing yourself. 
Kidd lied back down, fully awake now. His stomach turned, something resembling nausea settled in his abdomen. Was he too forward? It hardly seemed likely that asking you to stay the night was out of bounds, especially when he had just been buried nine inches deep, emptying a load in you. He sighed, and rolled over onto his stomach as his mind sought a possible explanation. 
You weren’t on your period, that much was certain. Not that he was tracking your cycle, of course. He definitely didn’t go to significant lengths to make sure his schedule was freed up when you ovulated. 
Maybe, he thought, the feeling of nausea increasing, There’s someone else. 
He dismissed the thought quickly, but it ate at him. You leaving so suddenly, not even offering him a kiss goodbye… You didn’t even look at him. 
Kidd, despite the recent calmness he had, was still Kidd and the more he ruminated on the sickening possibility the more real it became. 
That must be it, he convinced himself, What obligation does she have to me anyway? We’re not… together. 
His chest ached, it infuriated him. He spent the better part of the night tossing and turning, contemplating whether he had any right to kick down your door and demand you give him the name of your lover or if he should simply never speak to you again. Should he ask the other members of the crew? He didn’t want to involve them; it was his problem, he decided. 
When inspiration did finally strike around five in the morning, just before the sun had started to rise, he ignored the gut feeling that had begun to indicate that it wasn’t the best idea. 
Tomorrow, he decided, when we stop for supplies I’ll find and flirt with a pretty girl. Give her a taste of her own medicine. With this resolution (that he had absolutely convinced himself was the best approach to the situation) he fell asleep, hard. 
It was too cold, you thought as you lounged in the library of the Victoria Punk, cuddled up by the fire you’d had Heat set for you before he left. You had opted out of going into town, and since you weren’t able to cite lovesickness as a reason you stuck with the period excuse. You didn’t miss how Kidd rolled his eyes at you when you offered the excuse again to him. 
The windows were icy, the temperature continuing to drop as it got later and later. It had quickly heated up in the library, you fanned yourself with an old copy of your favorite book. You passed multiple hours on your reading chair, in a hoodie Kidd had let you borrow months ago. Too bad he’s not here, you thought. You faded in and out of sleep, drowsy from the hot fire and the poor quality of sleep from last night. The sun was set when the peace and quiet was disturbed by the sound of a woman’s light and airy laughter. It carried through the ship, leading you to sit up and turn to look for the source of the sound. 
Your chest tightened at the sight that greeted you, and you were never more desperate for something that could hide the expression of disgust and hurt you felt forming on your face. 
Kidd sauntered on board with his hand around the waist of a woman you’d never seen before. She was wearing a dress notably similar to one you owned that he had complimented multiple times. The longer you looked (though you tried to keep it short) the more you noted similarities between you and her. Similar height, hair color, facial features, bodily assets. The moment you felt your bottom lip tremble you turned back in your chair, standing quickly and gathering your things, making a beeline to your room. 
Kidd made eye contact with you on your way out, eyes slightly widening upon seeing your sweater.
Heat and Wire walked up on board the ship a few minutes later, and shot you a sympathetic look. It was no surprise to them that Kidd was being immature over a simple misunderstanding (he disclosed last night’s events to them in more detail than was necessary) and despite their advice to not follow through with his idiotic plan, he did anyway. 
Kidd immediately knew he had fucked up, bad. The look on your face was enough to tell him that he had crossed a line and clearly had suffered a severe lapse in judgment. He immediately dismissed the woman, leaving Heat and Wire in the extremely awkward position of having to walk her off the ship– they made a mental note to make sure Kidd was on bathroom duty for the next month. He ran after you, but the door to your room was already shut and, he wiggled the handle for a few seconds, locked too.  
He knocked every few minutes, growingly increasingly agitated at your refusal to talk to him. 
Knock, knock. 
“Y/n, c’mon lass, you misunderstood– I don’t even know her!”
“I was just… I was– ugh, I don’t know what I was thinking!”
“I wanted to make you jealous, lass, just open the door so I can explain.”
After the third hour of knocking to no avail Kidd resolved that he would simply wait you out, you had to come out eventually. 
It was another three hours, nearly midnight, by the time you opened your door. Kidd was half asleep when you opened the door, and snapped back to full consciousness when he saw you. 
Your brows were furrowed and you looked at him with more disgust and contempt than usual. He crossed his arms and blocked your path.
“Get out of my way.”
“Talk to me,” he responded.
“About?”
He laughed, your blood boiled, “So you’re not upset? About… anything at all?”
“No, dearest Captain, why on Earth would I be upset?”
“Just tell me what’s wrong.”
You scoffed, “Really, Eustass I didn’t take you for such an idiot. Get out of my way.”
He sighs, a smirk still settled onto his face, and moves to the side, gesturing for you to go ahead.
You walk past him, making your way toward the kitchen. You don’t fail to notice how he tags along beside you. 
“Ugh, Kidd! What? What do you want from me?”
“Tell me why you’re upset.”
“You know why I’m upset, moron.”
“Tsk, tsk, that’s no way to talk to your Captain.”
You bite your lip, “I’m sure she’d talk to you exactly how you want. Stop following me.” You go to take another step, but he grabs your arm pushing you toward the wall of the hallway. He pressed his chest into your back, pinning you against the wall as he bent down bringing his lips to your ear and teasing you with a few kitten licks. 
He grabbed your wrists, holding them against your lower back with an uncharacteristically gentle grip. Like he was daring you to fight back. You relax into his grip, arching your back to rub your ass against his bulge. 
You hate how weak he makes you. 
A deep breath escapes Kidd, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your thighs are starting to get sticky.  A soft moan escapes your lips as he presses his hard cock into the curve of your ass. 
“Mhm,” Kidd teases, “Somethin’ else ya want to tell me, lassie? Go on, use your words.” 
“I don’t have anything to say to you, asshole,” you snap back, trying to suppress the urge to give him the attention he so desperately needs.
“But how often do you keep yourself busy with other women?”
You break. His grip slightly tightens, his confidence faltering for a split second. 
“Ohh,” he remarks, an infuriating smile settling onto his face, “You’re jealous.”
“No, I’m just bored.”
He moves your wrists into his left hand, his right wrapping around to the front of your hips and under your skirt. He runs his thumb along your slit, your panties dripping with arousal. 
“Doesn’t feel like you’re bored, love,” he says, pressing harder against you, “Please, darling, tell me what’s wrong. I already miss you.”
You scoff and roll your eyes, “Right. And you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that? I’ve already told you what’s wrong.”
“I do miss you,” he laughs, “And, no you haven’t. You’re too smart to be truly bothered by my little stunt earlier. Somethin’ else is bothering ya– and don’t say it’s your period I know that’s not true.”
You pouted, refusing to answer the question. 
He ran a thumb over your lips, bending slightly to be able to gently kiss you. You don’t fight back. 
He lets go of your wrists and you turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders bringing him in for another kiss.
He picks you up and you wrap your legs around him, he presses you into the wall, slipping his tongue past your lips.
This is hell, you think, Just tell him you’re done.
But, then again, you weren’t. That was the issue. 
Your chest was tight and your brain foggy as you pulled away from the kiss. 
Kidd’s chest heaved with heavy, deep breaths as he began the process of regaining his composure. He slowly lowered you down the wall until your feet touched the floor. He leaned against the wall, his metal arm resting above your head, caging you in. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and cupped your face with his right hand, bringing it up to his own. You stood on the tips of your toes and he bent lower to more easily pepper your face in kisses. 
“‘m sorry lassie,” he said, between kisses, “I’m an arse.”
A huge one, you thought. 
You kissed him back, his lips salty with the taste of sweat. 
“Forgive me? Please? I… You mean a lot to me. Don’t be upset, I can't take it.” 
A smile crept onto your face. You placed a hand on his chest, it felt like touching marble. He was so difficult to resist– but your mind flashed you the image of his arm around another woman and you steeled yourself. You pushed him back, slipping out from beneath his grasp walking out of the hallway back toward your own room. 
He followed after you like a dog on a leash.
“Y/n, bonnie lass, hear me out, baby” he pleaded; You walked just fast enough to stay out of his reach, “I am sorry, love.”
You kept walking, your poor Captain trailing behind you uttering pleas, “Y/n, slow down lass, let me explain. She doesn’t mean anything to me, I just wanted to make you jealous.”
You stopped, finally having arrived at your destination.
“Make me jealous?” you repeated, turning to look at him, an expression of disgust settling on your face, “By bringing her on to OUR ship, hm? That was your genius idea, Captain? How did that work out for you?”
He sheepishly looked down at the floor, bringing a hand up to run through his hair. His cheeks were pink with embarrassment.
“Why on Earth would you ever pull some bullshit like that with me? I’d have never done that to you.” 
This did get a rise out of him, “Oh, you’d never? So leaving me last night the way you did– with no explanation and a half-assed excuse is any better? You couldn’t even look at me, you refused to kiss me! Kiss me. It only makes sense you have another man on your mind.”
Your expression slightly relaxed, “Another man– that’s what you really think? That’s what this is all about?”
Kidd was silent, his stubbornness had gotten the better of him.
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to offer him an explanation. 
“Last night,” you started, “I got scared–” “Scared? Of me?”
“Kidd!”
“Right, sorry, go on then.”
“I realized…” you paused, it was harder to say to his face than you expected, “I like you.”
Kidd’s countenance softened, “Well, lass, I’d hope you like me by now.”
“No, Kidd, I like you– I love–,” you bit your bottom lip, cutting yourself off. 
Your captain’s eyes widened, before a sly smile began to spread on his face. 
You ignored it, “I get that you don’t feel the same, I know this isn’t anything… serious, but–”
His arm shot out to wrap around you and pull you into him, you brought your own hands in front of yourself to push against his chest, maintaining the distance between the two of you. 
“C’mere, lassie,” he laughed, easily overpowering you and hugging you into him, “You’re a stubborn little thing, ya know?”
You huffed, tears pooling on your lower lash line, this was all so frustrating.
“Look at me,” he said, lifting your gaze with a finger under your chin, “I love you, Y/n.”
You looked up at him and the sight of your pink, pouting lips and watery eyes made him dizzy. 
He kissed you, squeezing your cheeks with his warm hand and squeezing your waist with the metal one. You deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue past his lips, reaching behind you to open the door to his bedroom. 
Kidd understood your request plainly, picking you up and walking to his bed with you. The door shut with a harsh bang, drawing you both out of your momentary reverie. 
Your captain gently placed you on the bed, pulling back to admire you.
“You’re the most beautiful woman on the ocean, you know?”
You smiled, blowing him a kiss. Kidd turned to lock the door and started undressing, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Your anxieties had completely evaporated since his lips touched yours, you took a deep breath to process your confessions to each other. 
A smile made its way onto your features and your cheeks darkened. 
Kidd made his way back onto the bed, and pulled you into him, where you laid on top of him resting your chin on his chest. 
“I do love ya, lassie, I wasn’t joking,” he said.
“I know, Captain,” you said, visibly reassuring him. 
“Shall I help you get these off, sweetness?” he asked, tugging at the hem of your shorts.
You nod but hold up a finger, you weren’t quite done reprimanding him.
“Captain,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him.
“Yes, lovely?”
“If you ever pull some shit like that again, I’ll kill you.”
His smile dropped for a split second before he started laughing, and rolled over to pin you against the mattress. 
He bent down to kiss and suck at your neck. 
“Eustass,” you said, voice flat, “I’m serious.”
“Mmm,” he left one more kiss before answering, “I know you are, trust me.
Now let me make it up to ya.”
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anon-sect · 2 days ago
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Request Part 1A
Hi, I love your stories, and I was wondering if you could make a transformation story about socks and/or underwear based on these images here.
deviantart.com/sebleloot/art/Handsome-men-in-socks-1097214222
Jason, Blake and Alex decided to go out one Friday night to the club. All three were single men and friends who had a run of bad luck finding the right guy for them. They were particularly out just for some fun and looking tonight, but all that changed when they all saw a handsome stud walk into the club looking hot. All three stop talking the moment he walked into the room. All their eyes starred his direction.
"He is so hot. I got to know who he is." Jason spoke first, still not taking his eyes off the guy.
"Yeah right, I am first to get him. You two need to look elsewhere." Alex spoke next, wanting to get to know him first.
"He is out of both of your leagues. He definitely looks my type." Blake commented. The fact that all three were seeking the same guy was a problem. Only one of them could get him. He definitely wasn't interested in sharing him with the two of them.
"This is an issue. We all want the same eye candy, but only one of us can win." Alex reasoned with his two friends. They needed to come up with a solution that they all could agree on.
"I agree. I propose a contest. The one he likes wins." Blake suggested.
"How do we go about this contest?" Jason asked, curious about how they would decide on how they would make the guy like one of them.
"Simple, we each go have a chat with him one at a time. Whoever he decides to take home wins our friendly game." Blake suggested the rules. A three had fist pump to agree to that rule. Since Blake came up with the solution, he was up first.
Blake walked over to the guy. "Hey handsome." He spoke with a friendly smile. "I am Blake, haven't seen you here before." He started the chat.
"Name is Tayon and you are handsome too." Tayon smiled back.
Alex and Jason watched as the guy and Blake continued to chat. They saw them laughing together. They saw a couple of drinks be given to them. After fifteen minutes, both Blake and the guy walked towards the bathroom. They were now curious as to see if Blake had won their contest without them even playing.
Blake followed Tayon into the bathroom and into one of the big stalls. "On your knees." Tayon told him. Blake felt so compelled to obey him. He got to his knees before him. He saw Tayon pull out his cock. "Suck it, boy." Tayon said to him. Again, it was like something was overriding his own will. He began to suck his cock. The more he sucked the harder it got. After a while, he felt hot cum touch his tongue. Tayon didn't even have to give him a command. He automatically started swallowing every drop. He suddenly felt strange. Something was happening to him. He started to shrink in size as Tayon zipped up his pants. He started to scream for help, but no sound came out of his mouth. Within seconds, Tayon was giant size. His skin changed color and became like cotton. His body morphed, and he found himself completely immobilized and voiceless. He mentally panicked over the situation.
Tayon picked up the sock. "Nice, very nice. Now I need a matching sock to go with you." He put the sock in his pocket and walked out of the stall.
TO BE CONTINUED......
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prettypumpum · 2 days ago
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Title: Crossed Dimensions I Logan Howlett x Reader
Warnings: strong language, mentions of violence, depression, anxiety
Summary: You were living an ordinary life until the day a portal throws you into the Marvel universe. Trapped between an unbearable Deadpool and a Wolverine as troubling as he is charming, you discover powers you didn't know you had and an unknown past with certain heroes. As your anxiety grows in the face of this new reality, will you be able to find your place and perhaps become the hero they need?
Word count: 1,136
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"I have good news and great news," Wade began when I returned from the bar bathroom where our pilot was supposed to meet us. "Enrique transferred the money, so for now, we're rich. And drumroll," he said, gesturing for me to tap on my thighs, "Elis is delayed, so we're stuck here until tomorrow morning," added the mercenary cheerfully.
"You think that's good news?" Logan asked, ordering another drink. We’d been here for three hours, and at this rate, the bonus would be gone.
"Are you in a rush to see him again? Need to hear more about that seafood restaurant in Barbados?" I asked Logan, who grimaced, remembering just how annoying our pilot could be.
Our conversation was interrupted by Wade's phone. He showed us the screen: it was Al. She’d be pleased; Enrique had even given us a little something extra in kind.
"So, tell me, how’s my favorite girl?" Wade asked, answering the call. "I meant the dog, you old fossil! She’s saying sweet things about you," he said, pressing the phone to his chest and stepping outside, leaving Logan and me alone.
"How’s your injury?" he asked me.
"It’s completely gone."
He nodded and went back to drinking. I nervously played with my glass; it was my sixth mojito, and I still didn’t feel anything. Now and then, I’d glance at the man beside me. He had never told us what had happened to him or why he was the way he was. He seemed so sad and angry. I’d started to think that this new universe was a second chance for him, too.
"Thanks for helping me with my powers; you must’ve been a great teacher," I said with a small smile, to which he only responded with a grunt. "What did you teach?" I asked, trying to fill the silence that was becoming awkward. We were the only customers in this dingy bar. I’d never been the most social person, but I needed to talk, and Logan was the only one who could understand since he was in the same situation as me, especially with Laura.
"We don’t have to do this," he said, setting down his empty glass and ordering another. It was four in the afternoon, and I’d already lost count of what he’d drunk. I nodded, hoping Wade would come back soon. "I taught history," he finally said after a long silence.
"I used to be a dancer." I wanted to slap myself; I didn’t know why I’d said that—it was like my mouth had a mind of its own. "Well, not in the end… I worked in a bookstore in Brooklyn."
"You could ask Wade’s friend to find you a job."
"I wasn’t that kind of dancer; I performed in Broadway shows," I said with a smile. "I ran into your Variant from my universe during one of my auditions… well, I saw him walking from far away and from behind, but that counts."
"What the hell was he doing at a Broadway audition?"
"He had the lead role in one of the shows."
At least it made him laugh. It was nice to see him in a good mood, even though I quite liked his grumpy expression.
"No kidding!" he said, disgusted, taking another swig of his beer. "If anyone had ever told me I’d end up drinking in a bar with Dreamwalker," he said, more to himself than to me.
"What was I like in your universe?" I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer.
"You were a real pain in the ass," he replied before taking a sip of his beer. "But you weren’t the worst."
I nodded, unsure of what to say. I’d been taken by the TVA because I was an anomaly; I’d started to develop powers in a world where that wasn’t supposed to happen. And after meeting Wade, he’d explained who I was while we looked for a Wolverine.
"For what it’s worth, I’m sorry," I said awkwardly.
"You’re not her," he said. "No, you’re definitely not her," he muttered, giving me a look full of meaning.
I wasn’t sure if it was because he’d nearly drunk the bar’s entire supply or if I was imagining things because of the stress and fatigue. But I willingly joined him in this little game.
"Is that right?" I asked, unsure where I found the courage to keep this conversation going as I kept my gaze locked on the mutant’s. His beautiful brown eyes were growing darker and darker.
Our noses were almost touching, and I could feel his breath, tinged with beer and whiskey. His gaze never left mine; it was so dark, almost animalistic. I didn’t know if he was going to bite me or kiss me. The scariest part was that I didn’t know which I’d prefer.
*What am I doing?* My reason was screaming at me not to play with fire, but my heart was pounding so hard I thought it might burst. I knew this wasn’t a good idea, that Logan wasn’t the kind of man you approached without leaving a piece of yourself behind. And yet, I was here, unable to pull away. I felt like Little Red Riding Hood, knowingly choosing to play with the wolf, fully aware of what that meant.
"Everything’s fine!" Wade yelled as he reentered the bar, snapping both of us out of that suspended moment. Logan and I quickly pulled away from each other; I turned my attention to my drink, trying to hide my flushed face, and calm my heart, which was about to leap out of my chest. Reality had just jolted me out of that daydream in a brutal and familiar way—of course, nothing was going to happen, not between Logan and me. As if someone like him would actually let himself go for someone like me. I lowered my gaze, hoping Wade wouldn’t notice my flushed cheeks, trying to ignore the painful void left by that stolen moment.
"Did I interrupt something?" Wade asked, curious. I shook my head, staring at the little umbrella in my glass while Logan stayed turned away, still drinking. "Are you sure?" he continued.
"How’s everything at home?" I asked to change the subject. "She got in a car accident," Wade replied calmly.
I still couldn’t understand how a blind old lady addicted to cocaine had a driver’s license.
"Oh my God, is she okay?" I asked, concerned for the old lady.
"She’s in the hospital with a bunch of fractures and a concussion," Wade replied calmly. "But my little Mary Poppins is fine; she’s with Vanessa. Aren't they just adorable together?" he asked in a schoolgirl’s voice, showing me a selfie where Vanessa was holding Dogpool, with Al in the background, clearly in pain.
"Adorable," I replied.
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yoonia · 2 days ago
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🖋️ one your stories that sticks to me the most was the (im)perfect ending. I really wish to see how you visualize their lives after. will Joon ever find out about the baby? will they reunite again? what happens when they do🤭? will Joon finally get his head out of his a** and end his marriage and be true to his feelings 🧐 or will OC has her own happy ending with someone else🤔?
💌 I think other people have said this before, but you are an admirable person that I've ever met online. You've worked hard on your stories and have always given us a lot. even now, you choose to spread positivity and share gifts for others to celebrate your birthday and I think that's the sweetest thing anyone could ever do. happy belated birthday, Dia. You deserve so much happiness and a lot more. I hope your coffee is always hot and your pillow always warm. wishing you and all your precious kitties an abundance of health and joy 💝💝
omg I've been getting the same questions sent to me for this couple, so I guess this might be a good chance to provide some answers for those who have been waiting for it lol
I know that the last letter mentioned in the fic didn't specify how much OC shared about her baby, so I guess this is where we get to see what other things she sent with the letter for Namjoon. I hope you enjoy the snippet and the visualisation below!!
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— title: Our Imperfections| pairings: Namjoon x female reader| genre: second chances!au, infidelity!au, post divorce/break-up!au, angst | word count: 1,410 words — summary | Namjoon is on a mission to fix the mess he created. — ratings & warnings | +18 / M for mature; talk about divorce and custody, post break-up, mentions of infidelity
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— original: The (Im)perfect Ending by @yoonia — fic drop date: Oct 30th, 2024 — song companion: loved
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“Don’t forget that you need to pick up Sunny early Saturday morning for her class camping trip.” 
Hearing her voice on the phone, clipped with orders, used to make Namjoon wince. Now he is used to it. Always so business-like, even when talking about their only child. 
“Did you get that?” 
Her voice returns when he doesn’t answer. He holds back from rolling his eyes and calmly answers. “Yeah, I got that. Saturday morning. Early.” 
His reaction isn’t the only thing he is holding back. Asking why six-year-olds would go on a camping trip might only end up with him getting a long lecture through the phone. He doesn’t have that much time to endure that. And having his ear burning from it is really the last thing he needs right now. 
“Right. I’ll text you the details.” A sigh, then, “Sunny also wants you to be the one to drive her to school Monday. So I’m packing up extra clothes for her to stay with you another night. Is that good?” 
Namjoon closes his eyes. As much as he loves having extra time with his daughter, having the child’s mother schedule their time for him without consulting him first rubs him the wrong way. If he doesn’t know any better, he would have thought that she keeps doing this as a payback. Causing trouble and brushing his ego for choosing to step out of their marriage—the marriage that she had worked so hard to paint as perfect for the world to see. 
But Namjoon knows better. 
He knows that she has always been this way. 
Even when they were still together, she always had to be the one running the show, while Namjoon would have to follow. She was the one holding the pen, writing the story for them through her rose-coloured glasses, while forcing him into a role that he never felt like he could fit into. 
At one point, it caused him to lose himself. 
Only that he realised it too late. Far too late, because it hadn’t just started when they got married, but long before—when they grew up together and being fed their parents’ beliefs that they would end up together once they turned adults; when they became teenagers and she insisted that it would only be right if they started dating to make their parents’ dreams come true and when she started planning their wedding day just when Namjoon was starting to find a chance to write his own story, to walk a different path, with a completely different person. 
It wasn’t until he was able to find his old self and feel like himself again through the mistakes he made when he finally found the courage to leave that life. Yet, once again, he was too late. 
Far too late. 
“Namjoon? Do you—” 
Her voice breaks him out of his wandering thoughts, only for her words to get drowned by the sound of the announcement blaring through the speakers above his head. 
“Attention, passengers on Flight 345 with service to Sydney. We are now beginning our boarding process at Gate 12B. Please…” 
The voice fades as passengers rush in front of him to find the departure gate, and Namjoon waits until the announcement stops before taking his palm off his phone. 
“Where are you? Are you on another business trip?” 
Namjoon almost laughs. He finds it hard to believe that after spending an entire fifteen minutes on call with him, she never thought about asking him where he was or where he was up to. 
Business as usual. Even when it’s about our new arrangement. 
“Australia. I just landed. That’s why I couldn’t take your call until now.” 
“Oh…” 
“You do realise the longer you’re on this call, the more expensive it will be, don’t you?” 
Silence, then her bitter voice is heard. “How was I supposed to know where you were?” 
You could have asked. 
Sighing, Namjoon shakes his head. “Look, just text or email me all the details about Sunny’s trip. I’ll be back in Seoul Friday afternoon. Okay?” 
“Okay.” Her voice softens. “Take care, Namjoon.” 
The call ends, and Namjoon breathes a heavy sigh. Feeling exhaustion after speaking to her is one thing, but once it wanes, guilt always seems to take root. It doesn’t matter if he had fallen out of love a long time ago. He cannot deny that he has made too many mistakes that he is still trying hard to make up for. His decision to stay in the marriage for Sunny, using her as an excuse to hang on to the final threads that were offered to him instead of stepping away from that fallen marriage, was his last, yet probably most detrimental for his own mental health and any chance he ever had to make things right for everyone. 
Including you. 
Hoisting his duffle bag on his shoulder, Namjoon walks across the airport’s lot to find his ride. There is a reason why he is here, and he isn’t going to stop until he finds what he is searching for. 
It takes him nearly an hour to reach his destination. 
The small coffee shop looks quite inconspicuous as it stands between various other shops downtown, yet it still catches Namjoon’s eyes the moment he arrives. 
Quaint and delicate, with natural wooden colours chosen as the accents at the front side of the shop and dark window frames, it reminds him so much of you. 
The sound of the bell chimes above his head as he steps in, immediately welcomed by the fresh scent of coffee beans, chocolate, and a bit of cinnamon. Spicy and sweet and pleasantly warm. A young boy with a thick Australian accent welcomes him from the cashier, yet his eyes travel across the room, where the figure that has been filling his dreams at night appears. 
Smiling at the young barista, he walks up towards you instead. You have yet to notice him in the room. Your eyes are locked on the small child sitting on the sofa by the corner, swinging his legs as he receives a small sip cup from your hands. 
His eyes find him first, looking over your shoulder while you still have your back facing Namjoon and the front door. 
“Now you sit tight right here until Mommy finishes work, okay? And don’t—”
“Mama?” the boy cuts you off before you can finish speaking, his chubby finger pointing towards Namjoon, “Da..?” 
Your body freezes. Namjoon hears a soft gasp before you straighten up and slowly turn to face him. The moment you see him standing there, your eyes grow wide and you quickly move to hide your son behind you. Only the child is quick, as he hops off the sofa to stand right behind you, clinging onto your legs as he peeks at Namjoon. 
A line which he read from your letter echoes in his mind as he returns the boy’s curious gaze, just as it does many nights after you were gone—
“I have a boy. He’s here. He might have a dimple on his cheek too that might show up once he’s grown a bit older. His name is…” 
Namjoon bends down. “Sammy, is it?” 
The boy, Sammy, slowly nods. Namjoon smiles. “You look handsome. You’re being a good boy to your Mommy now?” 
“Yea…” 
Chuckling softly, Namjoon straightens up to face you. Your eyes are covered with tears as you look back at him. “How—” you gasp, “What are you doing here?” 
Because I’ll chase you to the end of the world if I could. 
Those are the words that Namjoon has always wanted to say to you. A promise that he never got a chance to say before you left him. It was a mistake that he had been dreading the most when he first received your letter, along with a copy of your sonogram and your final word of goodbye. 
“Keeping a promise,” he merely says. “I think we have a lot to talk about.” 
A deep sigh escapes your lips. The sound pains him. But the sight of every tension being lifted from your shoulders gives him a sense of calm. 
“I guess we do,” you whisper to him with a broken smile. 
A lot of them. 
He can almost hear those words coming from you. Just like he almost says out loud,
I have all the time in the world to talk and listen now. For you. 
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For your fall tune, I think this song will fit perfectly well for this.
𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝖋𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖆𝖉𝖊: dia’s birthday bash 2024 ⇝ closed!
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gassydumbjocks · 7 hours ago
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Virilite 1.1:
Boys will be boys
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Training Liam to be the perfect manly dude he was meant to be was more fun than i thought, i kept trying a lil more commands on him, some even to humble him a bit making him do embarrasing stuff he'd NEVER do and he'd just obey without hesitation.
This was just getting better, and better, and again i thought of what Noah would think of this when he'd see Liam being no more than a puppet for the amusement of the commander.
After making him burp out the entire national anthem and laughing my ass off at him, i heard some steps from upstairs coming, Noah came at our weekly gathering to watch the game together while having some beers, i had to think of a good excuse for Liam, or maybe should i just tell him it was the best?
"Dave, where did ya put-... Oh, you're with... Liam?" he said scratching his neck, confused, Liam and i rarely interactued, let alone just the two of us, but this was going to be different from now on.
"Uh, yeah, we were just waiting for you here" i lie returning to the couch hoping he'd buy it .
"Sure, ok then" he simply shrugs it up "i was looking for him upstairs too, Liam, can you help me bring all the food and drinks?" he asks his son, and as he gets no response he raises an eyebrow "Son?"
I quickly intervene "Leave him, i can help you with that" i say but he ingnores it "No, i want him to do it besides... Why is he so, vacant?" He notices Liam is just sitting in a static position, no movement from him, and also his empty look "Liam you alright?" he asks again, and as expected, no response.
"What's with him all of a sudden?" he suddenly asks me, and i gasp a bit. He looks at him again, and then notices the bottle of Virilite pills that were still at the table "Virilite? What's that?" he says now focusing on them taking the container.
"Noah, i can explain this, those are some pills i bought, for Liam, you see?" i admit "They are meant to turn him into a real man, just as you and me always wanted, look, just let me show you" i try to explain him.
"Pills?! But, Dave- what the hell? What do you even mean?" he asks starting to frown a bit, i quickly take the container and show him the instructions.
"See? These have effects on the behavior and even actions of whoever that takes them, and even affects the increase of testosterone on him! He'll be in a trance-like state and you'll just need to command him do anything you want" i say, he still giving me a killer look.
"Noah, this can help you to finally lead him the right way and turn him into a good straight man, dont tell me you didn't seek for a miracle to change him so he'd finally like to bond with you" i say, and he just stays silent, proving my point.
"Even so, what can i "command" him to do?" he asks shrugging, and i smirk "anything brother, i already had a lot of fun at him, just watch this" i say and look at Liam, who letted out a goofy laugh again oblivious we were talking about him "Liam, i want you to make a cup fart with your own hand, and then you'll smell it" i smirk waiting for it.
We see Liam reaching his hand to his butt, and after some seconds, he grunted squinting an eye and dropping out a huge bomb of a bassy fart on hid own hand palm.
PPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!
I burst into laughter while Noah still reacts to what just happened, dumbfounded "did he... did he just fart?" he asks, and to top things up, we then saw how Liam with that now eternal dumb expression in his face took his hand to his nose, and sniffed deeply, before laughing again, making me almost cry of how amusing this was for me.
"And that's not all, Liam, show Noah that trick i trained you to do" i command and Liam gets in action for his thing, first, i trained him to let out a loud burp with his hands cupped in his mouth, then he'd play as if he was juggling with it, he'd swallow the belch again, and when his stomach recieved the burped out gas again in his stomach...
BOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUURRRPPPP!!
...
PPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTT!!!
I chuckle and go to him to give him some well-deserved pats in the back "good boy, very funny Liam" i praise him with a huge smile.
"Bro, what are you waiting for? Just try and make him do something you always wanted him to, any manly stuff works" i say again and he looks at his son, reflecting.
"I admit i always wanted a son i could call a real man... Ok, but just for a bit! I dont want my son to always be this...somehow extremely gassy zombie thing" he says waving his hand, the gas must have hitted him by now "Goddamn, did you fed him something to make him this gassy or what?" he asks coughing.
"Nothing, just pure pill effect, and I know right, its so potent, i even had to open a window earlier, but we'll get used" i joke "also i wouldn't worry, i readed in the website the trance state isn't permanent, they give you a certain amount of time so you can "program the person" as your like, then they'll come back to normal again, just with the new antics and persona you implanted on him, Liam will now love to join us in our belch offs or our protein farts competitions in our boys nights during the matches huh?" i giggle
"Guess this can work" Noah said, finally putting just a small, very slighty smirk on his lips, while patting his son's back, eager to finally enjoy the company of a son that could make guy stuff with him.
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Text
Obsidian Salt III
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Summary: Demon!Rhys' plan for the Solstice comes to a head
Content Warnings: Dark!Rhys, Mental Manipulation, DubCon, Slight NSFW; a dash of slut-shaming/body issues; mentions of blood and burns, nothing super graphic.
Part One / Part Two
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There is only one thing I can be absolutely certain of: I have no control of my body. Flames dance from my fingers, the color and shape of them wrong. It’s not the orange and yellow hues it should be, but shades of blue and purple that don’t burn, no matter how much pours from my fingers. My skin doesn’t blister. The heat doesn’t touch me. Stranger still, I can’t feel the pull in my chest that tells me I’m using too much energy, even though I should. The words on my lips are a spell in a language I know I don’t speak, but they flow off my tongue as if it is all I have ever known. 
Worse still, I can’t remember what it is exactly that I do and don’t know. There is only this thick darkness in my skull and the flames that glitter around my fingers like tiny Sprites. There is nothing before this, and nothing ahead of this. Only now, watching the pile of tomes and old books burn on the charred forest floor. A blood moon rises swiftly ahead of us.
“Feels good, doesn’t it, Witchling?” My companion’s voice is a lover’s purr, rich and silky next to my ear as he watches from over my shoulder. I can’t remember where or when I met him. All I know is that I want more of his approval. I think I might do anything for it as his hands settle on my hips. My head feels strangely empty of everything except him and the strange fog, but I don’t entirely mind the quiet, as long as I get the reward of his lips and body against my own.
“Mhm,” I hum, leaning back against the firm planes of him. 
His hands slide under my shirt and skim higher, his claw tipped hands drifting with enough pressure to make me shiver without drawing blood. “We’re almost free of them.”
I take my lower lip between my teeth and bite down against the whimper threatening to slip out of me as his hands come up to cup my breasts. My body is not my own because it’s his.  I crave every bit of affection he’ll give me, every touch and kiss and whisper of breath against my flushed skin feels like a gift. 
“Why start by burning books?” I ask, trying not to sound so needy by moaning like I want to when he gives my nipple a harsh tug. My body betrays me in the end, chest arching into his touch, practically begging for more.
“No spells to counter us,” he replies. I know he can feel my desperation, know he’s egging it on by rocking the hard length of his erection into the supple flesh of my ass, but his hands slide back down my body, robbing me of the pleasure I so furiously crave.
 His hands stop at my hips, claws dipping into my skin as he holds me in place. “Not yet, Little Witch. You’ll have your fun once we’re done here.” 
I tilt my head back against his shoulder, pouting, hoping he might change his mind as I rock my ass back into him. 
One of his hands leaves my hip to grab me firmly by the throat. “Don’t be greedy. You’ll take what I give you, when I decide to give it to you.”
My body freezes, held by some invisible grip even as he releases me. The loss of contact makes panic swell in my chest. “I’m sorry! I’ll focus.”
The hard lines of his face, distorted in the firelight, soften just a bit. “Good girl.”
The panic settles in my chest as the invisible grip on my body falls away. That’s better, even if he doesn’t put his hands on me again as he motions me away from the dying embers of our book pyre. At least I have him close. 
Rhys walks with his hands in his pockets now, wings tucked tight behind him. His gate is unhurried, as we stride through the quiet woods, the blood moon lighting the way. I think its arrival might be important, but I have no memories of why. 
“The witches will be gathering soon,” he says. “They’re expecting you.” 
Violet eyes glance over my attire and he adds, “You’ll need to change.”
I don’t question him as he steps onto a well worn trail and follows it all the way to a house. My house. The memory of it comes back into focus as if it had been lifted out of a fog, though it looks strange to me now. The runes along the foundation look like they were made by children, the wards they cast are flimsy at best. Strange, I’d always thought they were the best in the neighborhood.
“You see them as I see them,” he explains as he lifts a clawed hand and tears right through the glittering ward. “Key is in your pocket.”
Right. I slide my hand into the pocket of my jeans and find the key along with a couple crushed pieces of dried rosemary. What the hell was I doing with it? 
I slide the key into the lock and step into the dark house. It’s utterly silent, all the lights off. When I reach for the light switch, Rhys bats my hand away. “The neighbors don’t need to know we’re here.”
I somehow know my way around in the dark, even as the memory slowly returns, slipping out from the fog like a frightened prey animal. My room is the smallest, crammed into the attic, my footsteps echo on the stairs as we walk, but Rhys makes no sound. If anyone was in the house they would have assumed I was alone. Every once in a while I have to glance back over my shoulder to make sure he’s still there.
He only lets me turn the lights on in my cramped bedroom once he’s sure there are no windows to give us away. The sight of him having to duck to not slam his head against the slanted roof is amusing enough to make the risk worth it. He settles himself on my bed after a moment of knocking things around with his wings, long legs folded beneath him on my worn quilt, a frown crossing his handsome features.
“I’ve seen prison cells with more space,” he huffs.
I go to the wardrobe jammed in the corner, the old oak doors hanging on by a single, rusted hinge that squeaks when it opens. I wince as I start pushing old sweaters and jackets around, unsure of what I’m looking for. “What’s the dress code for this?”
The apex talon on his left wing scrapes against the wall, slashing through the worn wallpaper, and he huffs as he wraps the leathery membrane around himself like a cocoon. “Fucking witches. All so godsdamn small!”
Once he’s sure he’s not going to wreck anymore of the decor, he turns his attention back to me and I feel heat rush through me once more as those violet eyes roam over my body. “You’ll look good in black.”
A blush works its way up my cheeks as I start pushing pastel sweaters and multicolored t-shirts out of my way, looking for anything black. There’s a small, lacey thing tucked in the back and I have a distinct memory of someone telling me not to wear that to some function or another but the details or fuzzy. All I know is that someone, somewhere, made me feel small the last time I’d worn it. And I will never let anyone make me feel like that again.
I pull it out of the wardrobe and hold it out for Rhys to see. Something about him heightens all my worst emotions. My anger feels tenfold. My insecurities have tripled. I need him to quiet one and use the other, that much I do know.
His fangs glint in the witchlights the bob from the ceiling as he takes it in. “Certainly not the attire of a virgin sacrifice.”
A shadow from within the fog lets me see my grandmother’s threat from yesterday and I ball the dress in my hands up in my fists. “I’m no one’s sacrifice!” There’s something… different in my voice, and whatever it is makes the witchlights shutter. 
Rhys only grins triumphantly at the sight. “That’s my girl.” 
I take a shuddering breath to calm the pulsing of something I feel in my veins, something I can’t identify, something I don’t remember possessing before. Something that belongs to Rhys just as much as I do. It starts with a buzzing feeling in my spine, where his sigil sits. 
“I’m going to go change.” A tendril of shadow snakes out from underneath his wings and snags me by the wrist, pulling me towards where he sits on the bed before I can even take a step towards the door. 
“Why so shy?” He teases, wings unfolding enough for him to reach out a clawed hand and brush it against the buttons on my jeans. “What are you afraid I’ll see?”
I shiver at the contact, my legs moving on their own accord until my knees bump against the bed frame. He has such complete control over me, I don’t know if he even knows it. “I’m not afraid of anything!” I try to protest but my voice shakes when I speak.
He grins as his claws retract to let him pop the buttons open, large hands slowly pushing the loose fabric down my hips. It is an effort to stand still, to not climb into his lap and straddle him right here in my ratty bedroom. 
Once the fabric is past my thighs my jeans fall to the floor in a pool around my ankles on their own accord, his callused hands now stroking up my exposed flesh to reach for the hem of my sweater. I am no blushing virgin, but I have never been this aroused by a simple action before either. I find myself biting my lip as I watch the way his hands move over my body. I’m scared if I move too fast or make too much noise he’ll stop, just like he did earlier, leaving me empty and cold in the loss of his touch.
He leans forward on his knees, wings parting just enough to let him lean forward without batting into the walls, to brush his lips over my stomach as he removes the sweater inch by inch. Every second passes by like an hour, his kisses slow and unhurried as if we have all the time in the world. 
I squeeze my eyes shut as his lips ghost over my ribs, nose brushing up against the band of my bra. His lips are so plush and warm, I can’t help but wonder what they would feel like wrapped around my nipple. The thought makes heat pool between my legs and I instinctively clench my thighs together, looking for some form of friction to take the edge off.  
He nips teasingly at the valley between my breasts, but leaves my bra in place as he finally pushes the sweater over my head and onto the floor. “Aren’t you pretty,” he purrs.
I can’t stop myself from leaning forward, one hand braced on his muscular shoulder to keep myself from falling directly into his lap. I need to kiss him. I need to have his lips back on mine.
He chuckles wickedly as he stops me with a hand on my throat, squeezing just enough to halt my movements. “What did we talk about earlier, hm?”
“Please, Rhys,” I whimper.
“After we’re done,” he promises, unbothered by the effect he has on me, knowing I’m so totally at his mercy and desperate for any attention. I think he likes keeping me here. Likes knowing he can dangle pleasure within reach and then rip it away from me before I can truly have a taste. It might be the most effective way to keep me from looking into what we’re doing and I am a fool who keeps falling for it, but anytime I start to question why I allow it, the fog returns in my head and all the questions disappear in a rush. Just as they do now.
My eyes feel heavy and my head empty as I nod, the movements of my body foreign, like a puppet being jerked around on a string. 
He pulls the dress over my head with the same slow, teasing pace as he’d taken off my clothes, and it only makes the heat beneath my skin all the worse. The dress halts on my upper thighs, just long enough to cover all the important bits, and his hands linger on the hem, fingers tracing strange shapes on the inside of my thighs.
I might be desperate enough to try begging one more time, were it not for the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Rhys dissolves into shadow and smoke and dives underneath the bed as the door opens and my Mother strides in, broom still in hand from the flight over.
“What are you wearing?” She says in greeting.
That pulse of anger that had made the lights flicker returns and she glances at it with one, manicured brow raised in surprise. 
“I thought it looked nice-”
“You look like a whore,” she returns, hands smoothing over the green cloak dusting her shoulders. If she cares about the new display of power, she doesn’t mention it. Probably thinks it's a fluke. Or perhaps an errant flair of her own magic, she certainly has enough to spare. “Change before you head out. I’m sure your performance tonight will be embarrassing enough as it is without you being seen by everyone in that awful outfit.”
My cheeks flush with embarrassment. 
“You told me you were going on a diet,” she continues to chastise. “That dress certainly proves that a lie.”
I run a hand over my stomach self-consciously, but I can’t think through the fog to find an argument. 
“Honestly, Y/N, is all this a joke to you?”
“No!” I protest but she cuts me off.
“You certainly could have fooled me! Our family name is on the line here, you understand the reputation you have to uphold, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mother,” I try again, but she continues on like I hadn’t.
“Our family holds the front line against both the human world and the demon one. Do you know how much work that takes, to keep the demons leashed to their dimension and keep those stupid humans in the dark? Do you have any idea the sacrifices we’ve all had to make? The work we’ve all put in?”
“Yes-”
“Do you know how many Sisters I have lost? How many I had to decide to sacrifice to preserve our coven’s strength?”
“I understand-”
“To show weakness is to invite our destruction. This peace you have gotten to grow up in has come at a terrible price. It is not a game.”
“I know-”
“No, you don’t!” She hisses. “Because if you did, then you would have taken your lessons seriously. You would have studied harder. You wouldn’t be an example of weakness today.”
My hands are clenched so hard at my sides my fingernails have left indents in my palms. “I will not disappoint you tonight, Mother.”
“You only have one shot to prove yourself, because if the Salem girl beats you, you’re the sacrifice, you understand that don’t you?”
Rhys’s sigil on my back burns. “I know. She won’t beat me. I’ve been practicing.”
She frowns as she shifts her broom to her other hand. “I wish I believed you.”
She might as well have hit me. 
“I have to hunt tonight, there are too many humans on the border.”
And as powerful and proud as my Mother is, she can’t stand there and watch me make a fool of myself. As always, the Coven provides a perfect excuse for her to not be around while I “disgrace the family name”  and “make her wish I was never born”. The instances in which she said those very words flood my mind at a feverish pace, spinning round and round like a whirlwind movie performance. The burning at my back spreads all the way to my fingertips and I swear I feel the flicker of a flame between my clenched fists again.
“Do you really think so little of me?” I ask, my voice a lot smaller than I mean it to be.
“I stopped expecting big things from you a long time ago,” she retorts, straightening her cloak again. If she feels any remorse for the words or concern for my wellbeing, she doesn’t show it. I am as expendable as any other witch in the Coven, maybe more since she thinks so little of me. “Just try not to die tonight, ok?”
“I won’t be dying tonight,” I say through my teeth.
She nods, turns towards the stairs, then glances back one last time over her shoulder. “Change before you go.” Those are her parting words for my impending doom?
The door shuts behind her and I lash out and slam my fist into the wall in frustration; the first movement of my body all day that has felt distinctly mine and not so terrible intertwined with Rhys.. The wood groans under my burning knuckles, but worse still, the fading wall paper smolders, the edges burning and crinkling, the smell of melting glue filling the air. I glance down at my hands long enough to see a flicker of those blue flame disappear between my knuckles through the tears brimming my eyes. 
Rhys materializes from under the bed, looking annoyed that he can’t stretch out his wings. “That was harsh, even for a Witch.”
I stretch out my hands, palms splayed, no more flames to be seen, even if the wallpaper still smolders. “Is this from you?”
“It’s the amplification of what’s already inside you,” he says.
My Mother’s words still ring in my ears. “There’s nothing inside me.”
He reaches out a hand and tilts my head up to look at him. “We both know that’s not true, Darling.”
I wish I could remember how he came to me; remember which god I needed to thank for bringing him to me. No one understands me like he does. He makes me feel seen, like I’m not entirely a burden. The fleeting moment of control I had over my body disappears, dispelled by this new touch of his hands against my face.
He wipes the tears that slip down my cheeks with his thumbs. “Ready to show them exactly what you are, Little Witch?”
I’m not going to change the dress. And I’m not going to die today either. “Yes.”
He grins wickedly, eyes going all black again. “Then let’s give them a Solstice no one will ever forget.”
Those words are the last thing I remember before the fog takes me completely. There is only darkness and shadow, floating and swirling so intensely around me that I lose sight of everything. I am not a person, I am a thought, tossed around in the dark. Dully, I am aware of sounds. Of a flash of heat on my skin. Of the distant sound of screaming. Terror becomes a companion, but it is never an emotion that comes from me, only something that walks alongside me in the dark. Through it all, there is never a moment that I am not aware of him. His being is as intertwined in the darkness as I am, I think he might very well have been its creator as well as its caretaker. Even here, the brush of him is enough to keep me from thinking too hard about it. The darkness is good and soothing and nothing to fear, no matter what sounds come from outside it.
When he finally sets me free from the darkness, it is in a world once again on fire. What looks like a celebratory parade now lays in cinders, the charred remains of a skeletal figure clutching the melted wheel on the front. The air is heavy with ash, the wind blowing embers across the blood red sky. 
There is more screaming. Underneath what once might have been a floral arch, twisted in the burning ribbons are people… no witches, fighting for an escape that doesn’t come as the winged death god that has followed me all day stalks towards them with his claws out, chuckling at their plight.
Something in me recoils, fights against the invisible hands that hold me, just enough to let out a scream of horror as the witches meet a bloody end, the gore splattering across Rhys’s wings. He turns to look at me then, grinning wickedly, no violet in his eyes to be seen, only endless black pits.
The shadow in my skull parts just enough to remind me what he really is: Demon. Prince of Hel.
My hands shake at my sides. My back aches and burns like someone had tried to set me on fire, but I am wholly unscathed compared to the carnage and destruction around me.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” 
But the fog in my head closes in tighter, sharper now, like talons digging into my skull. I scream as I fall to my knees, but the hands that hold me won’t let me reach for my head. Blue flames still dance from my fingertips, flames I don’t remember unleashing. 
“What?” Each word is a battle to get out. “What did I do?”
The blood on his hands is cold as ice as he brushes a hand over my cheek. “What you were meant to do, Little Witch. What they were always scared you could do. Don’t you see? You’re free!”
Free? Whatever the Solstice celebration was supposed to be is irrelevant now, there is only death and fire and it’s all at my hand. The moment guilt starts to creep in, the fog rips it away from me, replaces it with that same need to please him.
“You freed me?”
Invisible hands help me stand again. He braces a hand on my hip to steady me as he brushes his lips over my forehead. The fires seem irrelevant like this. “They’ll never hurt you again. They’ll never hurt us again.”
I can’t remember what he was saving me from. Before I can ask the question, a false sense of gratitude worms its way into my chest. Another gift from him. The more gifts he gives me, the more hollow and cold I feel my insides becoming. My head doesn’t know reality from the world he creates inside my mind, but my heart is another matter. There is something very, very wrong with him. With me. But I am not strong enough to fight it. The sigil at my back burns when I try.
“What now?”
Plush lips brush against mine. My body moves for me, chasing the heat of him. Chasing the blissful pleasure of emptiness that comes when he touches me. His wants are mirrored through me somehow. 
“What would you like now, My Little Witch? The rest of the Coven? A throne perhaps? There is nothing in your way. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”
I don’t know that I want anything. Nothing feels real. Nothing but him.
“Want you,” I say, voice a little breathless, as if conjuring up anything of myself from within the fog is a tremendous effort. It certainly feels like it. I don’t know if that’s another gift from him or not. Everything is becoming so very muddled again. 
The demon grins as he asks, “And then?”
Images swirl around my head. Each carefully planted by those invisible hands. I am powerless to resist their influence. “No more witches.”
“I couldn’t think of anything better, Darling.”
-----
Tag List:
@girl-math-aint-mathing / @hjgdhghoe / @gloomy-hag / @barb00235 / @scxrletwitches
Thank you for all your patience! <3
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peterman-spideyparker · 8 hours ago
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Let There Be Love (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)
Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I didn't fall off the face of the earth! I've been writing, but, I've really just have had a lack of motivation to post. Enjoy! :)
Summary: When Matt asks you to find your cassette player, you humor him. As he pops in the tape and you begin to dance with one another, you recall the first time that you met your fiancé.
Warnings: Sweet fluff, established couple, flirty banter, kisses talk about marriage/wedding
Other Characters: None
Word Count: 1,252
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“It’s evidence,” you say with a little shrug. “You’re an attorney. You can appreciate that, right?”
“It’s hoarding,” Matt chuckles as he walks over to you with a full glass of wine. 
He clinks his own glass to yours. “I keep what’s important,” you explain before you take a sip. 
He kisses your temple as his hand slides down the curve of your body. “Hoarder,” he murmurs.
“This hoarder will take her cassette tape player back into evidence lock up if she needs to—.” He gives you a little puppy dog pout, his eyes sparkling in the neon coming in through the frosted windows. You run your fingers through his hair as you lean forward with a kiss. “You know you love me.”
“Of course I do,” he says with another little kiss to your lips. “Thank you for your expansive evidence lock up, angel.”
“So,” you start, taking a sip of your wine and sitting on the sofa, tucking your feet underneath you. “Why did you need my cassette player?”
“Because we’ve been trying to figure out our first dance song,” he explains as he fiddles with the machine. “I was looking around in my bedside drawer for my backup glasses until I could get my regular ones fixed, and I found this tape. Do you have any idea what it is?”
“Foggy’s Intro to Punjabi tape?”
Matt tosses his head back in laughter. “C’mon, seriously.”
“I can’t say that I do! I mean, in all honesty, too, I think the last time I used a cassette was 2004. 2007, maybe.”
“This tape belonged to my dad. He made it. It had some of his favorites, some songs that he dedicated to my mom. One he thought they’d play at their wedding. I was listening to it one day—I was missing my dad, and I popped it on. Then, a girl with the prettiest voice I’d ever heard came knocking at my door with a bushel of carrots in her hand, asking if I’d seen a rabbit hopping about the residence hall . . .” You watch Matt smile as he gets the tape to play in the spot that he wants. “This was the song that was playing when we first met. This is the song that I’d like to play when I dance with you for the first time as my wife.”
“Now I feel bad about my joke.”
“C’mere.”
“Matt,” you hum sweetly, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table, moving to wrap your arms around his waist. 
“I can never remember the name of the song, I just know the sound. That’s why I needed the cassette player.”
He leans in, giving you a long kiss as you both slowly start to sway in a little circle. “You know where we found that rabbit?” I grin. 
Confusion briefly furrows his brows. “Where?”
“Our study spot. Well, it wasn’t our study spot at the time, but, that’s where Tony Hawk was. Like a sign. Premonition?”
“Wait, wait. The rabbit’s name was Tony Hawk?”
“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I never told you that?”
“No!” he laughs, holding you closer. “I think I’d remember that detail.”
“Well, that’s what happens when a veterinarian student from Carlsbad, California is in charge of naming animals.”
“Well, then, thank God for Tony Hawk.” Matt leans in for a kiss as one of your most cherished memory to mind. 
“C’mon, c’mon,” you sigh as you look around desperately. How you're the one that got wrangled into finding a rabbit, you don’t know. It belongs to your roommates best friend’s boyfriend’s roommate, and yet you're the one carrying the bushel of carrots around your dorm trying to find the quickest bunny around. “Tony! C’mon Tony Hawk, I’ve got all these tasty carrots for you, pal!” Your eyes light up when you notice a door on the left of the hall is open. With any luck, he’s either snuck in there, or they at least noticed a rabbit bounce down the hall. Picking up your pace, you make your way down to the door. 
Gently knocking on the wooden frame, you poke your head in. 
“Hi,” you start, finding just one guy—one gorgeous guy—sitting on his bed with an open book and music gently playing in the background, something smooth and jazzy. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you, but have you seen a rabbit around?”
He lifts his head up, his beautiful hazel eyes sparkling in the late afternoon light. The kind of bright light that happens just before dusk. His smile is warm and inviting, and your heart races. You feel your cheeks grow hot as you try to keep your cool. Based on his face, this is that hot blind law student you’ve heard all the girls talk about. Unfortunately, you're so focused on keeping your cool, you miss his response.
“Um,” he responds. Oh, hell, his voice is as warm as honey in tea. “Are you alright?”
“S-Sorry,” you stutter. “I’m okay. The bunny is just small, y’know? I’d really just like to get him back to his owner.”
He flashes you a little smirk, his brows bunching together in amusement. “The rabbit isn’t yours?”
“No,” you sigh, letting him in on your annoyance. “Long story. Don’t ask.”
“Okay, I won’t. For now, at least.” You chuckle softly as you dip your head. “I’m Matt, by the way.”
“(Y/N),” you respond. “It was nice to meet you, Matt. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
“No, not a bother at all.” The smile pulls back on his face as he pulls his fingers off of the open book in front of him. “I’d offer to help look, but, I have to go to class in a bit.”
“No, you’re totally okay. I appreciate it.”
“Maybe if you’re not still hunting for a rabbit later, we could grab some coffee.”
“I’d like that.”
“Okay,” he says softly.
You smile at one another like idiots for a good few beats before you start to slowly back out of his room. “Bye.”
“Bye.”
You sway with Matt in the living room, looking up at him, your entire world. Your sun, your moon, and your stars. And in a few months, he’ll officially be your husband.
“What are you thinking about?” he whispers.
“Just how that damn rabbit led me to the love of my life,” you say softly. “Do you think we would’ve found one another later in life had it not been for Tony Hawk?”
He just smiles as he leans his face toward yours. “You’re my destiny, angel. One way or another, I was always going to find you. I was always going to fall madly in love with you. I was always going to marry you.”
You feel how tears sting at your lash line. “You’re gonna make me bawl like a baby when we do our vows, huh?” you sniffle.
“Oh,” he says with a sweet pout. “I’m not that cruel. I’m going to write them out for you to read before the ceremony. If you’re gonna cry, what makes you think I’ll be able to get through saying them without crying?” Matt just leans in for a soft kiss, his lips lingering on yours for a long time before he’s satisfied. “I love you so incredibly much,” he whispers. “Thank you for loving me in return.”
You snuggle in on him, resting your ear right over his heart. “Forever and always, Matty.”
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Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore​​ @dpaccione @catnip987​ @blackhawkfanatic
Matt Murdock Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters  @loves0phelia
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evergreen292 · 5 hours ago
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Hmm, maybe I should elaborate on why I am so furious with the 600 strike and therefore totally disappointed in Epic the Musical.
Okay, there’s no problem with the help from the souls of the crew; let’s collectively forget that they should hate him because he was the reason for their deaths, and that they shouldn’t even be there since they died not near Ithaca, and Hades wasn’t likely giving them a day off from the underworld.
No problem with the wind bag, so conveniently delivered by the trident; okay, just a really wild coincidence.
But here the problems start:
1. Since when does a totally uncontrollable and turbulent storm act like a controllable jetpack?
2. Since when is Odysseus totally capable of not only using this jetbag with ease from the very start but also using it in a damn battle? Is that believable in the slightest?
3. Since this is Poseidon’s storm and Poseidon is fully capable of controlling it (as we see at the end), why didn’t he just turn the storm off a little bit earlier to get rid of Odysseus without any problem? Because the author says so? That’s just silly.
4. Why doesn’t Poseidon fight back but mostly just float helplessly? Yes, he is supposed to be a worse fighter at close range, but not helpless at close range! Why didn’t he even use his own sea for attack or defense? It’s his domain, after all! I saw an opinion that he was shocked because he felt pain for the first time in his divine life… but that’s just not true. He was eaten by his own father and spent his childhood in his stomach, where there was surely enough pain. Also, gods fought their own wars with titans and giants, so he must have experienced enough pain in battle. He even fought in disguise alongside mortals in the Trojan War. So it can’t be the reason. What is the reason? Masochism? Or does the author simply understand that there’s no way for Odysseus to win if Poseidon fights back or at least protects himself with water?
5. Why does Poseidon just let his trident lie on the ground for Odysseus to pick it up slowly? Poseidon was already pretty well beaten by this mortal, so I just don’t believe he didn’t consider Odysseus a threat at that moment. So… just why? Another author’s decision for the sake of a desirable (but totally illogical) Odysseus victory?
6. Why does Poseidon let himself be stabbed repeatedly by his own trident and not even try to take it back, run, or use water to evade? Is he really this masochistic? Another “because the author wants it so”? And we can see that Poseidon bears serious pain well enough, by the way.
7. Poseidon calling Odysseus a "monster" as an accusation is just hilarious because with all his ruthless philosophy, it should rather be a praise! So we have a clearly out-of-character Poseidon here. Also, I think he would rather die (being immortal, yes) than ask a mortal (!) for mercy! And all the “how would you sleep at night” is just so out of character for Poseidon from all the gods! He is ruthless himself, so… is he sleeping poorly at night all these thousands of years? Really? Does he genuinely consider his ruthless deeds something to regret? Do we have a straight PJO Poseidon here instead of our old epic one?! This line seems just forced for the sake of a “badass” Odysseus's response.
So we already have too many illogical moments that the author uses to get a desirable but totally unbeliveable result. But what about mythological accuracy? In Greek mythology, we have no examples of a god being literally defeated (not tricked or captured) by a mere human. Only wounded—twice—in the Iliad, but in the first case, it was Aphrodite, who is specifically described as weak in wartime. And in the second case with Ares, Athena was there invisibly, literally guiding Diomedes's spear to the weak spot with her own hand. So we can’t even say that it’s mythologically possible for a mere human to defeat a god, especially one whose power is comparable to Zeus.
So… now you can see why I am totally disappointed with the 600 strike.
Thanks for coming to my TED Talk.
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yatagarasuhonyaku · 1 day ago
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The Raven of the Empty Coffin: Chapter 1 "Shigemaru" Part 1
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Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation japanese-english of the original novel. The events of this novel follow after what's already covered by the anime. For an easier understanding, I recommend first reading the few scenes of previous books I've already translated.
Blog version
For the Prologue, you can find it HERE
⊛     ⊛      ⊛
Chapter 1: Shigemaru (Part 1)
“Excuse me!” A high-pitched voice reverberated through the dirt floor.
I took a look outside. A tiny shadow was just behind the open shoji door, obscured by the sunlight at his back.
“Oh, hey, what brings you here?”
The boy, who was probably around seven years old, wasn’t anyone I knew. Could he have gotten lost? I wondered. However, as I tried to approach him, the boy cast his eyes down and tightened his grasp on the sleeve of his kimono.
“Well, eh, well, Mister Upper Quarters…”
“I’m from the upper quarters, yes, what do you need?”
My big size tended to scare little children, so standing up in front of him was out of the question. I quickly knelt down, crouching until I reached his eye level. Meanwhile, the boy seemed to have finally found his resolve and raised his head.
“You see, Mister, we actually have a package for you. But nobody is home right now so… could you wait here instead?”
Huh, his parents probably sent him here, then. And what a cute kid he was, so desperate to repeat the message properly.
“I don’t mind. So, you’re here for an errand, right? Where did you come from?”  I asked.
It was at that moment that the boy finally seemed to realize I wasn’t going to eat him alive. His body visibly relaxed.
“The lower quarters.”
“Oh, so you’re that couple’s son! You must be very brave to come here all alone from so far away.”
The lower quarters was a big, old house close to the old commercial road(1). It was, in fact, quite the walk to get there. The road was just one straight line, yes, but we had barely any contact. It truly wasn’t a distance a young child could easily cross on their own.
“I flew about half the way here!”
“Oh, that’s impressive! So you can fly already.”
“Just a bit.”
“And that’s still amazing. I’m Shigemaru, what’s your name?”
“I’m Eita.” 
My conversation with the boy was soon interrupted by the sound of loud footsteps. My younger brothers had just returned, running at full speed.
“Shige(2), is that a guest?”
“Oooh, who are you?”
All being similar ages, it took no time for the kids to befriend one another. They spent the entire time until Eita’s family arrived playing without a break. From tag to spinning top, they busied themselves with any and all kinds of games.
When the time came, it was obvious the poor kid didn’t want to go back home. He had too much fun here, it seemed. So, as we were saying our farewells, I had an idea: I decided to give him a little present, a newly made spinning top.
“Ah, that must be your best one yet! It looks so much better!”
“That’s so cool! Shige makes the best tops, so you better treat it well!”
“...... Is it for me?” Eita’s eyes sparkled. “Really? Can I have it?” 
He was oh-so-visibly hesitating. How nice of him, he was nothing like my brothers or the other village brats. I was bursting into laughter before even realizing it.
“Why so timid? Eita, you did amazing today even though it was your first time playing with these. So, take this and practice for the next time you come over. How about that?”
“Next time…?” Eita whispered.
My brothers immediately took it upon themselves to start a ruckus.
“Yes, of course! Nothing stops you from coming back if you want to, right?”
“Let’s play again! This doesn’t have to be the last time.”
“And make sure to bring the top with you next time. That way we can have a match!”
Eita’s lips curved into a big happy smile. He nodded enthusiastically.
“See you! Come over to play again.”
“You better not fail us!”
“I won’t, see you!”
I watched as, under the sinking sun, his tiny frame became smaller and smaller on his way home. Again and again, he kept on turning back to look at us.
That day was the first and the last time I ever got to see Eita.
⊛     ⊛      ⊛
It was a fresh and invigorating morning. The blue sky was that particularly soft shade unique to spring. No better day to take on a new step in life, he thought to himself. The gentle, bright sunlight poured down and the blooming cherry blossoms that stretched under him gleamed. To him, they looked like drifting white clouds. 
As he flew through, enjoying the chance to view the flowers from high up in the sky, he started to see figures slowly walking up a slope. He also started to notice horse riders appearing from all over. Everyone was headed in the same direction: a number of temple buildings lined up halfway up the side of the mountain. The walls surrounding them were huge, their appearance imposing enough to subdue any would-be-intruders.
In front of it all there was a plaza, which stood right before what one could surmise was the main entrance. Some horses had even landed there already, he noticed. 
——That had to be it.
Shigemaru turned beak first towards the plaza, gliding down as he grasped the very air with his wings. Then, just as he reached the ground, he applied force to his entire body. In a mere instant, his form went from that of a massive raven to that of a human. Dust flew around flung by his wings, which quickly turned into impressive-looking tanned arms. His three legs, all ending in sharp claws, also shifted into a pair of legs that were just as imposing. He flexed, as if making sure everything was in order with his muscular body, and took the wrapping cloth bag hanging from his mouth.
Shigemaru raised his head in satisfaction and found himself face-to-face with a group of boys, all shocked by the giant who had just come down from the sky. His fellow new trainees, he surmised. They were the people he would sleep and eat with for the following three years.
But, was there something they wanted to say? He tilted his head in a wordless question. However, the boys, who had finally come back to themselves, ignored it and looked away instead, setting off towards the entrance. Across the door, multiple long tables were placed all over. From the looks of it, they were doing the new trainees’ reception there. A group of adults, most likely administrative officers, were taking in the boys as they arrived.
“Your letter of recommendation?” one of them said to him as he approached.
They didn’t even give him a chance to speak first.
“Here.”
“Name and place of origin?”
“Shigemaru of Shimaki.”
“A recommendation letter from the Headmaster and the Township Lord. All in order.” The administrative officer confirmed the contents of the letter and scribbled something down in a form. “Then, please, first head to the lodging houses to your new personal room. There should be a senior waiting there to guide you, just follow his instructions.”
The officer offered him a paper that said ‘second building, tenth room’. The moment Shigemaru tried to pick it up, however, the man gave him a wry smile instead.
“...... Still, you got some guts to come up to the entrance in bird shape,” the officer said, surprise in his voice.
Shigemaru gave him a blank look.
“Did I do anything wrong?”
“Oh, not particularly. It’s not like there’s any rule about it, but the Court Ravens will make fun of you, you know?” the officer warned him in a whisper and, finally, let him pick up the paper. “You’re from a rural area so you may not realize it yet, but central nobles are all like that. If you’re aware of what you’re doing, I won’t stop you. Just be careful.”
Shigemaru didn’t really get what he had to be careful about exactly, but he could at least tell the man was talking out of concern for his well-being. So, a sincere show of gratitude later, Shigemaru took off in the direction of his assigned lodgings.
Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t help but to notice that the other boys who were, just like him, carrying their luggage towards their rooms were all dressed in colorful clothes. Yatagarasu like Shigemaru and the others could alternate between two forms, bird and human, but to do so they had to weave a feather robe, black clothes made from part of their bodies. Once generated, which required a conscious effort on their part, it would automatically shift into their feathers when they transformed.
Kimono made of silk and hemp, however, only got in the way when shifting.
It wasn’t rare for people to spend their entire lives in their feather robe, at least for those who struggled with money. However, and rather unsurprisingly, it seemed such people were scarce among the Unbending Reed Monastery’s young trainees. In short, he was already sticking out and he had only just arrived. 
Shigemaru found himself standing there, scratching his head, when he caught sight of another person with the same all-black look in that expanding sea of blues and browns. There was no mistaking it, right over there was another newcomer wearing a feather robe.
Shigemaru immediately ran towards him and enthusiastically patted the boy’s back.
“Hey! You must be from the countryside, just like me, right?”
His fellow trainee, who almost tripped from the sheer force of the impact, somehow managed to bounce back and turn around to look at him. He was quite tiny for someone his age. The boy stood there looking at Shigemaru, mouth open and dumbfounded, perhaps taken aback by his large frame. He wasn’t only small, his features too were still soft and childlike.
“Ah, I know I may not look like it, but I’m also a newcomer. I’m from the Northern Region as well, so to be honest I don’t have any idea of how things work here in the Center. Let’s get along, fellow country bumpkin.”
The boy kept staring at him for a while, before finally breaking into a smile.
“What are the chances? I’m also from the North!”
“Really? I’m from Shimaki.”
“Taruhi. I guess that makes us neighbors,” the boy said in a polite tone.
He introduced himself as Yukiya. He seemed like a nice person, Shigemaru thought to himself. Especially with that gentle look of his.
To top it all off, Shigemaru got a look at Yukiya’s paper on their way to the lodging houses. To his surprise, it turned out they were to share a room. Both were in the tenth room in the second building.
“Oh, we are in the same room as well.”
“Now that’s just fate, isn’t it? Nice to meet you then, here’s hoping we get along,” Yukiya bowed his head.
“I hope so too!”
From there on, they talked a bit about themselves as they moved across the different facilities. After a short walk, they finally reached the dormitory rooms. They both went on to check the door signs, but Shigemaru was the one to call Yukiya over. He had found the room, and it turned out their assigned senior was even someone he already knew. Shigemaru truly felt lucky that day.
Their mentor-to-be, Ichiryuu, was what one would call the stereotypical modern young man. Both for better and for worse.
He used to have quite the rebellious side. This, on top of his eccentric taste in clothes, made the Township citizens worry quite a bit about him back in the day. However, it seemed like his time at the Monastery had done him a lot of good and turned him into a splendid trainee. He had quite the foul mouth and a mean look in his eyes, but Shigemaru knew well that there was an upright character hidden underneath.
At the very least, and from the looks of it, Shigemaru wouldn’t have to worry much about roommate problems for the following year. He let out a quiet sigh of relief.
However, upon seeing Yukiya, Ichiryuu immediately turned white as a sheet.
“W-What are you doing here!? You said there was no way you would come to the Monastery, didn’t you?” he shrieked.
“Oh, about that, you see, the circumstances have changed a lot,” Yukiya gave him a pained smile. His attitude was still impeccably polite. 
In the meantime, Shigemaru just stood there, giving alternating glances to his polar opposite roommates. Finally, he tilted his head.
“Wait, did something happen between you two?”
“Oh no, don’t worry,” Yukiya replied with a smile before Ichiryuu—whose face was contorted beyond belief—could say anything. No space was left for arguments. “We are childhood friends, after all. Everyone gets into one or two silly childish fights in their lives. But we aren’t kids anymore, so there’s no reason to hold a grudge, right?”
At Yukiya’s question, Ichiryuu froze for a second.
“Y-yes, of course. Who would hold a grudge over something that happened so long ago! Let the past be the past,” Ichiryuu agreed enthusiastically.
Yukiya’s smile, on the other hand, slowly deepened. “That said, I’ll make sure to not overstep just because of our past together. Ichiryuu, I trust you to guide us well as our senior.”
Yukiya bowed respectfully, and Ichiryuu’s face twisted once more as if he had just seen the world end.
“...... Yes, fine with me… Nice to meet you again…”
After a long period of silence, Ichiryuu finally opened his mouth again. His eyes looked dead—like those of a fish stuck on land—for some strange reason. For a moment there, it had looked as if his soul was going to leave his body. It worried Shigemaru quite a bit, but, by the time they left the dormitory hall for a tour around the Monastery, it seemed like Ichiryuu had finally returned to his usual self.
“We wake up as the sun rises,” Ichiryuu explained, his tone oddly desperate. He covered the details of Monastery life as they walked through the premises. “When to wake up, plus the start and end of the lessons, is all indicated by the ring of the bell tower up there. You won’t have to worry about missing meals as long as you pay attention. Be careful with the ‘ambushes’, however.”
“‘Ambushes’?”
“They simulate emergencies, so they happen without any prior notice. The alarm bell could sound at any time, even during lessons or during sleep. When that happens, we are supposed to gather at the plaza in front of the grand lecture hall. You should bring your Ornamented Blade(3) in hand, nothing else.”
“Ornamented… Blade? What’s that?”
“This.”
With the swooshing sound of the attached crimson strap being unfastened, Ichiryuu took off the tachi on his hip and showed it to them. Upon further examination, it was much lighter than it looked. The scabbard was covered in black lacquer and the ornamentation was simple but exquisite.
“It may look like the real thing, but it’s just a very well-made bamboo sword. They’ll give you one soon, it’s what identifies us as Monastery trainees. As for the decorative jewels, Evergreens have black ones, and white is for Saplings. For your generation, I think it’s supposed to be green. You should keep it with you at all times and, no matter what, never lose it.”
It was part of their duties as trainees to return their Ornamented Blade to the Monastery when they left. Hence why, if anyone lost it, they were summarily kicked out no matter the circumstances. “If you manage to overcome the Trial of Storm and are chosen for the Yamauchi Guard, however, you’ll be given the real blade in exchange.” 
After they thanked him, Ichiryuu returned the Blade to its original spot with practiced ease. “Once you wake up, there’s always morning training. We eat after that. Both breakfast and lunch are made for us, so you just have to go and pick up a tray but, once you’re done, you’ll have to clean it yourself. Seeds stay behind afterwards to arrange the desks for their own lectures.”
Lectures took up most if not all morning classes. After lunch, however, it was all practical courses. “As for the dojo, whoever uses them last has to clean them up. Dinner is prepared in turns by the different dormitory halls. Turn assignments are hung at the dining hall’s entrance at the start of every month, so make sure to check them out.”
Unless there was some sort of night training session, which wasn’t common, there were no classes after dinner. Did that mean there was nothing to do, then? To that question, the answer was no.
“You’ll be getting plenty of homework. Until you get used to it, expect to be very busy keeping up with lectures. You may even need to skip sleep. There are study groups, however, and some seniors organize training sessions on weapons that aren’t covered by our classes. You can join those once you grow comfortable with the workload.”
During the tour, Ichiryuu also showed them to the biggest hall in the Monastery. Deep in the massive room with wooden flooring, there was a huge altar, hidden away by bamboo curtains. Yamagami, the Mountain God of Yamauchi, was lavishly enshrined there. The ceiling, supported by endless pillars, was so tall that it was a struggle to look up to it. From there hung a sublime canopy of gold.
Initially, the Unbending Reed Monastery was a temple dedicated to Yamagami. It was the reason behind the luxury of its facilities and why its grounds were vast enough to include a swimming pond and even a grove of trees the trainees used for practical training. 
Their tour went on until dusk, as Shigemaru and Yukiya followed Ichiryuu through the enormous premises. Once it was time, however, they headed straight to the dining hall, where most trainees were already gathered.
Huge containers full of warm rice and pots filled to the brim with steamed vegetables and chicken dumplings awaited them in a corner of the room. Following Ichiryuu’s instructions, Shigemaru and Yukiya each took a set of trays(4) and utensils from the piles lying alongside the wall and proceeded to fill them with as much food as they could actually eat.
The three of them settled down in a circle in an empty spot among the other chattering trainees. They clapped their hands, said their blessings, and finally started to eat.
The meat dumplings were so juicy they leaked when one bit into them. The oily liquid had a golden tint and tasted like glory, with a flavor only achievable by boiling in large quantities. It was delicious, and Shigemaru simply couldn’t have enough of it: he had flown the entire way to the Monastery, after all. He devoured all his food with great enthusiasm, aided as he was by his empty stomach.
It all happened once they were putting aside their trays after dinner.
A group of seniors, most likely Evergreens given their apparent age, suddenly came in with a bunch of packages in hand. From them came the unmistakable, delicious aroma of sake. Apparently, it was tradition to hold a welcome party for the newcomers and so they had taken it upon themselves to go out to buy the alcohol and appetizers.
The seniors took care of all the preparations, setting up the entire party and refusing any help from some offering newcomers. The Evergreens busied themselves with hearing out some very nervous new arrivals as the Saplings efficiently moved around the room and made sure to distribute everything.
Finally, once everyone had a cup of sake in their hands, one of the Evergreens stood up to talk, aided by a push on the back from a friend. “To all newcomers, congratulations on joining the Monastery. We welcome you! There won’t be any time for fun from tomorrow onwards, so it’s our wish for you to enjoy the atmosphere at least for today.”
“However, you’ll have an awful time tomorrow if you get actually drunk! Be careful if you aren’t used to it.”
“There’s no way you can get drunk from this little.”
“Now, now. Don’t be spoilsports, let them drink all they can!”
Despite the constant interruptions from the sitting Evergreens’ banter, a toast followed soon after and, at last, everyone got to enjoy their drinks. Shigemaru, who had promptly finished his cup in one go, busied himself with chatting with his fellow newcomers and the seniors in his immediate area.
However, just a while later, the newcomers’ self-introductions started in earnest.
By that point, most were sober or slightly drunk at most, but a few were already wasted: their faces were completely red and they were incapable of properly articulating anything. The mood was quite good thanks to the sake, so laughter often found itself mixed in between the newcomers’ attempts to share their names, places of origin and reasons for joining the Monastery.
As soon as they were done, they returned to their seats with a bow and, immediately after, another newcomer close by would stand up to take their place.
“I’ve been assigned to the tenth room, second building. I’m Yukiya and I’m from Taruhi in the North.” Finally, Yukiya’s turn came. The boy, who had been sitting beside Shigemaru until that point, spoke without any hesitation. “My uncle used to be part of the Yamauchi Guard, so I’ve heard all about how hard the training here is ever since I was a little kid. I don’t know whether I'll be able to keep up, but I’ll do my best. Pleased to meet you all.”
As far as self-introductions went, Yukiya’s truly was the very epitome of average and unremarkable. An unenthusiastic applause followed it, after which Yukiya tried to sit back down with him. But, at that moment, someone else raised their voice. 
“Wait! What about your reasons for joining the Monastery?” the boy outright protested, oddly enough.
The one who spoke out was a boy with reddish brown hair, and Shigemaru couldn’t help but gasp when he saw his face. He was incredibly handsome, with the kind of looks you rarely if ever saw back in the countryside. To Shigemaru, it was like having the chance to admire some rare unusual creature in the wild.
Yukiya, however, faced the other boy without giving any hint of being surprised or impressed at all.
“Well, I don’t really have a reason worth mentioning, you see. My only desire is to become a splendid Guard and work to protect Yamauchi.”
“To protect Yamauchi? Is that truly all there’s to it?” the boy asked once again, plain incredulity painted all over his stunning face.
Seemingly unbothered by the strange demands, Yukiya visibly blinked.
“...... Excuse me, may I know who you are?”
“My name is Akeru. I’m Akeru of the Western House.”
The instant the red-haired boy introduced himself, gasps of surprise filled the dining hall in what quickly developed into a ruckus. So that’s him! they whispered to each other. Even Shigemaru, an authentic country bumpkin, knew just how powerful and important the Western House was even within the nobility.
In practice, the lands of Yamauchi were governed by the Four Houses, the highest ranking of the noble families. The Eastern, Southern, Western and Northern Houses each had control over the territory in their respective cardinal direction. They were said to descend from the First Golden Raven’s four children. Any member of the aristocracy, and this included the Center nobles, who held power in the Imperial Court had sworn allegiance to one of them. There were virtually no exceptions to this rule.
Akeru, as a scion of the Western House, one of these powerful families, therefore held one of the highest ranks among any young boy in the entire country.
“Oooh! So you are the oh-so-famous favorite of His Highness Wakamiya,” someone else interrupted in a mocking tone.
Shigemaru turned his head in the voice’s direction. There was a senior reclining arrogantly, surrounded by his followers. Despite being a Sapling, he had remained seated the entire time, even as others worked tirelessly to organize the party. 
He was not Akeru, that much was certain, but he still had a beautiful face. His features were noble, unified by a nicely-sculpted hooked nose. His shoulders were wide and he was noticeably taller than his fellow Saplings, with unusually long arms and legs. Despite his above average looks, in his eyes was blatant contempt towards others, which made him the kind of man that most don’t want to get involved with.
“And you are?” a perplexed Akeru asked.
The senior’s eyes glistened in defiance. “Kimichika of Minami-Tachibana.”
In response, Akeru let out a small ‘oh’, as if that had just explained it all. His eyes turned to pierce back at Kimichika. “Your reputation precedes you.”
“I don’t know what you’ve heard about me, but here I’m your senior. So you better be careful when opening your mouth.” Kimichika stood up, all puffed up, and returned Akeru’s gaze with arrogance. “I cannot care less whether you were Wakamiya’s close aide or whatever, and it doesn’t even matter here. You’ll have a bad time if you keep up with the big attitude.”
“Is that a threat?”
“Oh, if that’s how you want to take it, for sure. I mean, Wakamiya? Imagine being scared of that simpleton.”
“You can say whatever you want about me, but I won’t tolerate any insult to His Highness,” Akeru frowned and, all of a sudden, turned towards Yukiya. “What are you just standing there for? Shouldn’t you be saying something too, Lord Yukiya?”
Yukiya, who had so far been watching them with concern on his face, was rather confused. He obviously didn’t expect to be brought into the conversation. “Erhm, excuse me? I don’t really get what this entire conversation is all about, you see, so it’s not like I have much to say…”
His floundering, however, did little else than deepen Akeru’s frown. 
“....... You realize he’s insulting His Highness Wakamiya, right?”
Yukiya remained silent, yet something about him changed the very moment he heard that question. Deep annoyance burned deep within his eyes. He had an answer, Shigemaru realized, but that didn’t mean he wanted to give it. 
And so, Shigemaru couldn’t bring himself to stay out of the conversation any longer.
“Well, no matter how much you ask, people like us won’t have much to say about that.”
In a second, the entire room turned to stare daggers at Shigemaru. Why are you opening your damn beak, you ignorant fool?
“Nice to meet you, my name is Shigemaru. I share rooms with Yukiya and, like him as well, I’m from the Northern Region,” Shigemaru stood up and soon placed his hand on a shocked Yukiya’s shoulder. “My turn wouldn’t come no matter how long I waited, so I’ll take it nevertheless. Much like my friend here, I came to the Monastery with the goal of protecting Yamauchi and, as someone with similar circumstances, I must say that answering Lord Akeru’s question is impossible.”
Shigemaru’s tone was joking, and Akeru was left at a loss. “Why?”
“I mean, it’s not like us country bumpkins have even had the chance to meet those in the Imperial Family. You can’t judge a Yatagarasu you haven’t even met, at least not from what others say about them.”
Akeru was speechless, and he wasn’t the only one. Kimichika too seemed to have been caught off-guard by Shigemaru’s carefreeness as he muttered., “And who do you think you’re going to swear fealty to when you graduate?”
“I don’t even have a way to know that, do I? That’s a problem I’ll face three years from now,” Shigemaru laughed nonchalantly. “And, before that, I have to work hard to become strong and skilled enough to even be chosen for the Guard. I’ve heard our destinations are chosen according to our results, so I don’t know who I’ll be serving among the Imperial Family. Not like I care about who or where I serve as long as I can work for Yamauchi.”
Shigemaru’s argument was truly the simplest thing ever, yet it silenced the entire hall for quite a long while. Finally, someone broke into long-held laughter, an Evergreen who had been limited to listening until then. Just like that, the tense mood dissolved into nothing.
“Now, now, he actually got a point there. I’m with Shigemaru!”
“Looks like this year we got a new fun guy!”
“Kimichika, go back to your seat. We got sake for once, let’s not ruin it,” another Evergreen soon intervened.
Kimichika, who had been looking at Shigemaru with venom in his eyes, reticently closed his mouth. Akeru too decided to back off. He was obviously displeased with how everything played out, and his followers were busy trying to appease him.
Once the self-introduction picked up again and everything was back to normal, Shigemaru sat back in his original spot.
“Thank you, Shige(5),” Yukiya whispered to him.
“Don’t worry about it,” Shigemaru waved his hand as if it was nothing.
Finally getting to relax, he extended his hand to get himself a snack. However, right at that moment, Ichiryuu returned to their spot with a scowl.
“You two, come with me now.”
Immediately, Ichiryuu dragged them both out of the dining hall.
Their destination was, apparently, the Monastery’s bathhouse.
“Now this is the best!”
“It’s truly nice, isn’t it?”
It was, in fact, the biggest one Shigemaru had ever seen. Yukiya and he had finally gotten inside the bathtub, both relishing the chance to relax, when Ichiryuu brusquely opened the door from the washing area.
“Just how happy-go-lucky are you two!?” he yelled at them as he came in. “Why do you think I went through the trouble of dragging you two out of the party!? Because the Evergreens told me to!”
Ichiryuu kept on ranting, not even giving them a chance to answer. “They warned me: ‘make sure to teach them fast, before they end up starting something worse!’ That scared me shitless!” 
“Did we even have an option? I didn’t start it, you know, that young lord of the Western House came after me,” Yukiya protested, clearly fed up with the entire situation.
Ichiryuu quickly recoiled at that, switching targets. “What about you, Shigemaru!?” 
“Shige was just trying to help me. He knows nothing about Imperial Court politics, what other option did he have? Besides, I wonder: is it truly right for you to go and blame him for helping when you didn’t even try? Huh, Sapling Ichiryuu?” Yukiya attacked back, all prickliness.
Ichiryuu’s only answer was a pained groan. This was clearly escalating.
“..... Did I mess up anything?” Shigemaru asked meekly.
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Despite the dark environment, he could still feel Yukiya softly laugh. “It’s all just worthless Imperial Court power struggles.”
Huh, thinking about it, why does Yukiya know so much about that sort of thing? Shigemaru wondered. Yukiya seemed to notice it.
“Well, you see, to be honest,” he explained to him as he scratched his head bashfully, “I didn't really explain myself properly before, but I’m, like Ichiryuu, the son of a Township Lord. Taruhi’s second son, to be more precise. On top of that, I was on Court service until not that long ago.”
“Oh, so that explains it!”
Yukiya’s demeanor was strangely sophisticated for someone from the countryside, so it all made sense to him. The feather robe may have initially misled Shigemaru, but Yukiya was still a nobleman. A rural one, but a noble nevertheless.
“Now, talking about that, you are probably way better suited than me to explain this entire mess to him. Will you?” Ichiryuu suggested.
“Fine then,” Yukiya repositioned to face Shigemaru, “Shige, do you know anything about the inheritance conflict from 10 years ago? The one to decide who would take the position of the Crown Prince: His Highness Wakamiya or his older brother—Lord Natsuka.”
Yukiya fully shifted into explanation mode. In answer, Shigemaru just shook his head.
“Just rumors, not any details.”
Until very recently, people in the Center fought over who should inherit the throne and become the next Golden Raven: the elder or the younger brother. That much he had heard about, as it was a Yamauchi-wide problem. That aside, he only knew that, at some point, they had settled on Wakamiya as the future Golden Raven.
“But, well, the rumors at least said that the imperial brothers really didn't get along…….”
“Oh, that's not true, actually. This may sound strange, I know, but their relationship is actually excellent. I would dare even say it’s the opposite: Lord Natsuka is a surprisingly dedicated and loving brother as far as I’ve seen.”
Just as surprising was Yukiya’s way of speaking, it was as if he knew them both personally. He went on to tell Shigemaru the actual reason the Court settled on Wakamiya as the Crown Prince, despite the Imperial Family upholding primogeniture: it was all Animiya's doing.
“For starters, the reason His Highness Wakamiya became the Crown Prince in the first place was because the imperial priests declared him a ‘True Golden Raven’.”
The Golden Ravens were the leaders of all Yatagarasu, and were further divided into ‘Acting’ and ‘True’ Golden Ravens. Within those two categories, ‘True Golden Ravens’ were said to be born rulers, possessing everything and anything they would ever need to govern Yamauchi. When one was born, he got to inherit the throne regardless of birth order or his mother’s station.
Only in the absence of one was the eldest brother to take over the position as a replacement. Those who ruled in their stead were therefore referred to as ‘Acting Golden Ravens’.
“We call both Golden Ravens, but you could say that the rightful ruler, the True Golden Raven, and his Acting replacements are entirely different figures. It was the priests who determined that His Highness Wakamiya was, in fact, a ‘True’ one.”
“Wait a moment,” Shigemaru said, hand on his forehead. “In short, that means the older brother gave up his position as Crown Prince to his younger brother because of his status as the ‘True’ Golden Raven, is that correct………?”
“Yes, exactly.”
According to Natsuka himself, to have a replacement was pointless when the real one existed. He was a just man and had never been the ambitious sort to begin with, so Natsuka had been perfectly content giving up the position to his brother once he knew he matched the legends.
However, not everyone was happy with his decision.
“Oomurasaki no Omae, the Empress, couldn't bring herself to accept that—she's Lord Natsuka's mother, you see. She's the legal wife and hails from the Southern House. Meanwhile, His Highness Wakamiya's mother was a concubine from the Western House.”
A long, long time had passed since the last time a ‘True Golden Raven’ had even been born, a fact that played a key part in the Southern House's adamant refusal to accept the situation. On the other hand, the Western House welcomed this development with open arms. Hence, the Imperial Court was divided into the Wakamiya Faction and the Animiya(6) Faction, even though it went against Natsuka’s own wishes.
“The South supports Animiya and the West, Wakamiya. This is why they are opposed to each other and, for some reason, it seems like their conflict is affecting even a place like the Unbending Reed Monastery. Did I get that right?”
Yukiya gave a pointed look to Ichiryuu, as if fishing for information.
“That’s right, yes,” a clearly exhausted Ichiryuu replied, “I think you have realized this much already, but Kimichika is a South-affiliated Court Raven.”
“And Akeru is a scion of the Western House, remember? So, Kimichika belongs to the Animiya Faction and Akeru to Wakamiya’s.”
“Argh, what an annoying mess!” Shigemaru exclaimed.
Maybe because of the sudden explanation, but he couldn't make any sense out of it. “So, let’s put it like this. There is a wife and her son, who is his father’s heir. Said father owns a lot of fields, but he cheated on his wife and secretly had a lover and yet another son somewhere else. This second son is truly gifted, however, so the legitimate heir wants to give up the fields to his brother. The wife absolutely refuses, and so her family and the lover’s family have somehow also gotten involved and it's all a complete mess. Did I get it right?”
For a second, Yukiya and Ichiryuu stood there in complete silence.
“That’s quite the way to put it…”
“It is, yes… but he is not wrong, really. So, using Shige's metaphor, Kimichika belongs to the wife's family, and Akeru to the lover's.”
“Good. I finally got it,” Shigemaru said.
“Now, whatever you do, avoid both of them as much as you can,” Ichiryuu insisted. “They’ll only give you trouble. To not approach what you can avoid is wisdom.”
“I have to agree. As long as they don't come after us, it's probably better to give them a wide berth,” Yukiya added.
“Well, now that this matter is resolved, I'm getting out of here. I can't believe you two are here like it’s nothing.” As Ichiryuu said that, he stood up with a stagger. It was only upon watching him go that Shigemaru realized that he himself was also entirely covered in sweat.
Refreshed after their bath, they all returned together to their shared room. In preparation for the following day, they started to set up the room as soon as they arrived. A worn-out screen, covered in repair marks, was soon placed in the center of the room, dividing it in two halves. The one further back was for Ichiryuu, while Shigemaru and Yukiya shared the half facing the entrance. Their futons, thin from much use, were all piled together in a corner. The three of them chatted as they arranged them.
After a while, the conversation turned back to their reasons to come to the Monastery.
“I also wanted to ask you about it, actually. Especially you, Yukiya,” Ichiryuu peeked through the screen. “I completely missed the chance to ask you earlier. You said that you didn’t want to ever come to the Monastery, didn’t you?”
Ichiryuu gave him a sour look as he said that. Shigemaru, surprised by the revelation, also turned to look at Yukiya, who shrugged bashfully.
“That’s true, yes. I once thought I would actually die if I ever joined the Monastery, and that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with the training. I hated the idea so much, in fact, that I chose to go to the Court over the Monastery when that choice was forced upon me.”
“Then, why did you even come here?”
“I couldn't remain a spoiled child, not after last summer.”
‘Last summer’. Shigemaru and Ichiryuu both instantly straightened their faces.
“...... When the ‘Monkeys’ attacked,” Ichiryuu muttered.
Yukiya nodded, silent.
Unimaginable fear assailed all the Yatagarasu in Yamauchi that summer. The incident took place in small border settlements: Monkeys attacked and murdered all inhabitants. There were no survivors in any of them. At first, nobody knew why they did it or where they had come from. However, it soon became clear that their Yatagarasu victims were nothing more than food to their assailants. Those giant Monkeys had assaulted their villages to eat them. 
Legends said that Yamauchi was protected by a barrier created by Yamagami, the God of the Mountain. They had never before suffered any kind of outside attack because of it. These unprecedented events shook everyone in Yamauchi to their very core.
The Imperial Court frantically searched for the Monkeys’ invasion route. A while later, they found out about ‘passages’ in the barrier that had, most likely, allowed the Monkeys to enter Yamauchi. Once they successfully blocked them all, the Imperial Court released an official announcement declaring the problem solved: the Monkeys wouldn’t ever be capable of returning to Yamauchi.
“However, those are simply the central nobles’ vain, silly hopes,” Yukiya argued, not mincing any words in the process, “‘For now, we have closed every hole we have found, so it would be nice if the monkeys don't ever return’. That's all it amounts to. Apparently, their aim was to keep the population calm and avoid an even bigger upheaval, but that way you only get them to lower their guards and ruin their chances at self-defense. To declare everything solved haphazardly like that just hurts us in the end.”
Yukiya’s irritation was palpable as he spoke. He seemed to be extremely bright, which made for quite the contrast with the easygoing, head-empty attitude he had kept up until that moment. 
“Oh, I see now, so that's what you meant by ‘protecting Yamauchi’! You too came here to fight off the Monkeys, then.”
“Well, yes, that's the gist of it,” Yukiya answered Shigemaru before further adding., “We can't leave it all up to the Imperial Court, after all.”
As if he had just realized something, Yukiya then glanced at him. “Wait, ‘you too’...?”
“Yes. I came here for the same reason as you, really. I didn't really get to mention it earlier, but I was actually born and raised in Sazaki, Shimaki.”
“... Sazaki!” As expected of fellow Northerners, Yukiya and Ichiryuu’s reactions were striking.
“No way, by Sazaki, you mean that Sazaki, right? ——The one that the Monkeys attacked,” Ichiryuu whispered in horror.
Shigemaru nodded. Two villages were raided by the Monkeys: Sugou in Taruhi, and Sazaki in Shimaki. Compared to Sugou, where the entire settlement was annihilated, Sazaki had it slightly better: only one house, away from everyone else's, was affected.
Everyone focused on Sugou when the topic of the Monkeys’ victims came up, but what happened in Sazaki had been just as terrifying for the locals: they knew that, if things had played out ever so slightly differently, they could have been the Monkeys’ food instead.
“We called the place the Monkeys attacked the ‘lower quarters’.”
It was an old house and, from what he knew, originally the main building of an entirely different village. Once the old commercial route went out of use, however, their population quickly dwindled and, as time passed, only the so-called ‘lower quarters’ remained. They had recently become more or less self-sufficient, from what it seemed, so they didn't have that much contact with Sazaki’s other inhabitants.
“That summer, the Township Lord sent us a notice, asking us to confirm that everyone was safe in the area. I can hold my own in a battle, at least by countryside standards, so I was sent to check the situation there.”
What Shigemaru found in the lower quarters was a veritable bloodbath.
Everyone there had vanished. Endless amount of flies fluttered around as the stench of the horses’ rotting corpses, still trapped in the stables, filled the air.
The edges of the house’s hearth were dyed black. By what, he couldn't really tell at first glance. At least, until he found all those pearly white bones scattered all over the place. With them came the realization: those dark stains were what remained of a sea of blood.
He may not have been particularly close to them, but they weren’t strangers either.
However, at the moment, what had worried Shigemaru the most was the safety of that young boy he had just met the other day. He ran through the entire house, calling for him. Eita, where are you!? Then, in one corner of the house, he found it.
The wide wooden floor was covered in dark stains, as if ink had spilled all over the place. There, in the middle of all that blood, was one tiny, all-too-familiar spinning top.
——He wouldn’t ever forget what he felt that day.
Neither Yukiya nor Ichiryuu said anything. They must have noticed Shigemaru's odd silence, and didn’t press him for details. Finally, he sighed and gave them a bitter smile.
“So, well, that’s why I'm here.”
Shigemaru had been invited by Monastery associates over and over again, being asked if he wouldn't at least consider taking the entrance exams. He ignored them all, as he had never felt the need to do so. He truly believed that he could handle most anything all by himself. After witnessing the Monkeys’ massacre, however, he came to realize how truly naive he had been.
“So, you wanted to further improve your battle skills for self-defense, I take it?” Ichiryuu’s expression was severe, different from anything before. He seemed to realize how personal this was to Shigemaru.
“Not really,” Shigemaru denied. “No matter how much I train myself, it's not like I could do anything worth a damn if a large number of Monkeys were to ever attack. Besides, learning that these ‘Passages’ are in the Center made me realize something. That, if I truly wanted to protect what I love, I couldn't just stay there, swinging around some club in front of my house. To be honest, it's not like I even know right now what I can achieve as a Yamauchi Guard either.”
But, at the very least, it beat staying home practicing with sticks. He didn't want to ever be in the position of picking up a bloodied toy with his very own hands. Not again.
“I truly couldn't stand the idea of regretting it all later. If something like that were to ever happen again, to find myself thinking——‘I should have joined the Guard’; ‘if only I hadn't been self-complacent, maybe, maybe I could have done something’.”
The realization came to him at the very last moment, a few months from losing his chance forever. He found himself quite fortunate for that.
“Yes, I get exactly what you mean,” Yukiya muttered softly, and yet, for some reason, his expression was one of pure, undiluted joy. “I'm so glad we became friends, Shige. Let's become Guards together, no matter what.”
However, Shigemaru couldn't really share Yukiya's optimism.
“But,” he looked up at the ceiling, “honestly, I was in the very last place at the entrance exams for theory courses. Can someone like me even graduate?”
The moment Yukiya heard that, he burst out in merry laughter.
“Don’t worry, I'll help you out! Theory won’t be any problem.”
—————————————
1: The commercial roads are the main paths that connect the Center with the countryside. A lot of big settlements are built around them to provide for merchants. Sometime ago, the “old” ones were replaced with newly built ones that followed another route. The villages reliant on them struggled and became smaller and much more isolated.
2: Shigemaru’s little brothers call him 茂兄, or Shige-nii. Brother Shige, but said in a very affectionate way, essentially.
3: The original term for Ornamented Blade is 珂仗 (Kajou). It’s a wordplay on 儀仗 (Gijou), the word for ‘ceremonial weapon’. 珂 is a kanji for ‘jewel’ that doesn’t see that much modern use.
4: These trays are actually 食膳, four-legged trays that were used instead of tables in ancient East Asia. Dining tables weren’t in use back in the Heian era Yamauchi mostly resembles.
5: The specific way Yukiya calls Shigemaru is 茂さん, or Shige-san.
6: Much like Nazukihiko is referred to as Wakamiya (若宮, or ‘young imperial’), his siblings have similar titles. Natsuka’s is Animiya, 兄宮, or the ‘elder brother imperial’. For consistency sake, I’ll be keeping all -miya titles.
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lilacliquors · 22 hours ago
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kinktober day thirty: thigh riding
pairing: bucky barnes x reader
word count: 883
notes: happy day thirty! i can't believe we're almost done with our third kinktober, like that's wild to me. and i'm gonna start prepping for the 12 days of ficmas in the next week or so, so be on the look out for that, too!
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he only made you ride his thigh when you were being a brat, and some days, you couldn’t help yourself.
that night was one of those times.
he’d been gone for far too long, in your opinion, and you wanted just one night to have him all to yourself. however, it looked like that wasn’t going to happen right away, much to your disappointment. it was like the moment he got home, he got called back out to take care of something, and it was torture. you two didn’t know a moment’s peace, and you wanted that to change as soon as possible.and that night, you took matters into your own hands. it wasn’t the best decision you’d ever made, but it usually got you what you wanted, with some strings attached, of course.
before he could make his way out the door, you whined at him, begging him to blow off work just this once, that it wouldn’t happen again, you’d never ask again, the usual. and like always, he just shook his head and tried to explain that he couldn’t stay, it was urgent, and no one else could handle the issue. and he’d almost made it out the door successfully, but then he caught a glimpse of you in the mirror you had hung in your hallway. 
you had perched yourself on your shared bed, undressed and in a lingerie set he’d not seen you in before. it was purple and lacey, leaving very little to his active imagination. he knew what you were doing, and he knew he had to be strong willed. but the way you were sitting was too enticing, and a growl vibrated in his throat.
“fine,” he said, turning around and marching over. “fine, you wanna play this game? you wanna make me late?”
you let out a squeak as he picked you up off the bed, like you weighed nothing, and he sat down in your spot. then, like he’d done a million times before, he settled you on his leg, making sure you faced him as you straddled his thigh.
“you know the rules. you wanna act bratty, you’re not gonna get exactly what you want from me. now, ride my thigh like a good girl, and maybe we can take care of your other needs when i get back,” he said, and you nodded, your heart pounding in your chest.
you knew what you had gotten yourself into, and you had to admit, he was sexy when he was annoyed, but you knew that he loved you more than anything. so, with your hands on his shoulders, you began to grind against his thigh, rocking your hips against the material of his pants. that, with the friction of your panties against your folds, made you gasp softly. it was shaky, and you felt your cheeks warm up, but he simply held your waist and kept you right where he wanted you.
“ah, ah,” he muttered, giving you a squeeze. “keep going. keep going until you cum, like you wanted to badly.”
you moaned, the pressure against your clit and the sound of his voice spurring you on. you wanted to cum so badly, though you wished it was from him fucking into you, nice and slow, stretching and filling you in the best way possible. those thoughts alone had you speed up, and god did he love to see you lose control.
“that’s it, there you go,” he muttered, rubbing your back with one hand. “just like that …”
you nodded quickly, your grip on his shoulder tightening the faster you moved. instead of rocking your hips, you rolled them, his thigh muscles pressing against your clit just right. it made you whimper, and he knew you’d found your sweet spot. 
he didn’t dare say another word, he didn’t want you to lose your rhythm. instead, he let go of you, leaned back, and let you go wild.
the sounds that left your lips were music to his ears. every moan, gasp, whimper, he loved it. and he could tell by the desperate way you ground against the muscles of his thigh that you were close.
“gonna cum for me?” he whispered, and you nodded, unable to really form a sentence. you were just aching for that release, for it to hit you all at once. and when your mouth fell open in a silent cry, and your body stilled while your grip on his shoulders tightened further, he just knew. 
he caught you as you fell forward, your legs shaking from the sheer exertion, and he kissed your forehead gently.
“shh, i got you,” he muttered, rubbing your back with a gentle hand.
“do you still have to go?” you asked, your voice soft.
“mhm. but i’ll be back in under an hour. then, i promise i’m gonna take care of you the way you deserve. can you be good for me for forty five minutes?” he asked, and you nodded.
“mhm, i can. pinky promise.”
“good. get some water, rest up, and i’ll see you in just a little bit. you’ll be begging me to take a longer assignment so you can recuperate.”
“unlikely,” you replied, and he gave you a squeeze as he chuckled.
“we’ll see about that.”
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lolxdswag123 · 9 hours ago
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The Engine Room Scene
Leo Valdez x reader
Warnings: MoA spoilers, mentions of foster care, loneliness, a steamy makeout session
Author’s note: I’m actually really proud of this one so let me know what you think
———————————-———————————————
I quietly rocked back and forth on my heels, trying not to make any noise. If I let the floor creak even a decibel too loud, Coach Hedge would be out here in an instant.
I had been standing here for at least three minutes now, working up the energy to knock on my best friend’s door at this ridiculous hour. I knew he’d been feeling really down lately- something had been off since we left Camp Jupiter- even after Piper had coaxed the Eidolon out of him. I had kept myself awake all night so far, trying to figure out how I could help him.
I had originally decided to talk to him tomorrow, but my mind wouldn’t let me rest for even a second- so here I was.
Part of me wanted to just enter the room, as I had so many times before. But the other part of me wanted to turn back to my room, go to bed, and pretend that I hadn’t been standing out here for several minutes now. I decided on a third option of knocking as quietly as I could, to avoid stirring any of my other sleeping friends.
After the first knock, I took a tiny step back- listening for any movement in the room. There was none. I waited half a minute before trying again, slightly louder this time.
Still nothing.
Anyone else would’ve given up there, but I knew my best friend too well. If he’s not in his room, he’s either on the deck, working on the ship- or he’s in the engine room.
I tip toed as quietly as I could, my slippers being a soft cushion to silence the impact of my feet on the boards. I headed toward the back of the ship, and down to the lower deck to the engine room.
Before I even opened the door I could feel the vibration of the engine. It’s hum was quiet and relaxing, which gave me a feeling I was in the right place.
I slowly pushed open the door, trying to avoid any creaking. Of course with Leo’s excellent craftsmanship, the doors weren’t going to squeak anyways.
I took a soft step inside, and immediately spotted my best friend peacefully sleeping on the floor with only a pillow and blanket. It looked extremely uncomfortable.
I quietly closed the door behind me, stopping it before it clicked to limit any more noise that Hedge might hear.
I tip toed over to him, sitting down next to his sleeping figure, and reached down to run my fingers through his hair.
It wasn't unusual for us to be physically affectionate with each other. We had been best friends for almost a year now. We first met when we both ended up at the Wilderness school with Piper. The three of us had become close, but Leo and I shared a special bond. We understood each other in a way that no one had ever been able to before.
Both of us had grown up in foster care- so we never really had a permanent home. Being with Leo every day for the past year has felt more like home than I ever thought I could feel.
Things only started feeling off the past few days. With the Eidolon in Leo's head, he had fired on Camp Jupiter without knowing. He also had quite a few outbursts that left our friendship in an uncomfortable place. I knew it was just the Eidolon, but his words still stung.
Leo had never been anything but gentle and kind to me- aside from his targeted jokes every now and then- but that was how our friendship worked. When the Eidolon was possessing him he said some things about how my parents didn't care about me and that's why I ended up in foster care. He also had said something about how of course we are the only two single members of the quest because nobody cared about us.
I let the words pass over me in the moment, but part of me couldn't get the memory out of my head. And yet, I was more worried about him than I was about my own emotional wellness.
I brushed his hair out of his face, watching a sleepy smile settle onto his face at the feeling. I subconsciously started tapping Morse code on his head- the way to communicate he made me learn at the Wilderness School to talk during classes. It took a while, but I got the basics down. We hadn’t used it much since he’d gotten so busy with building the Argo ii, and we hadn’t used it at all since he’d been possessed by the Eidolon.
He stirred, and I immediately stopped tapping. I didn’t even realize until I’d stopped that I was tapping miss you.
I pulled my hand back, letting him blink his eyes open. I watched as he reached his arms up to stretch, a smirk crossing his face as he looked up at me.
“Well well well,” he said, looking up at me, “if I’d have known I’d be getting a late-night visit, I would’ve put on my good pajamas.”
I snorted at his attempt at a joke, rolling my eyes and smacking his arm gently with my hand.
His smirk widens as he rests his hands behind his head, “what can I do for ya, querida?”
I blushed lightly, breaking eye contact for a moment before saying, “I just wanted to see how you were doing…”
His smirk dropped slightly, looking uncomfortable, but his grin quickly returned as he said, “If you mean after having an evil spirit leave my body… I’d say I’m doing great, even better now that you’re here, estrella.”
I sighed, knowing his typical way of deflecting his feelings into humor. It would be hard to get around.
“Leo, I’m serious.” I prodded, “I know something’s been up lately.” I leaned back, allowing my arms to prop me up.
He scanned my face, his face becoming slightly more serious, but he didn’t let go quite yet.
“I think you’re just making up excuses to hangout with your charming best friend in the middle of the night,” he said, turning on his side to face me, resting his head on his hand and raising his eyebrows suggestively.
“Yeah, that’s it. I just was dying for some alone time with you.” I said with thick sarcasm in my voice, playing along to his game. The words were true, but that isn’t what I was here to talk about. That was a conversation for after I figured out what was going on with him.
“See, I knew it, mi amor,” he grinned, looking up at me, “come here.” He said, laying back and opening his arms.
I rolled my eyes, but obliged, moving forward until I was laying on the floor as well- our arms around each other and my head in his neck. Unfortunately the floor as uncomfortable as I anticipated. Although I hardly noticed that as I breathed in Leo’s scent. He always had a soft smell of camp fire, and I adored it. Nothing ever could make me feel so at home.
There had been many nights at the Wilderness School that Leo and I had spent comfortably laying on each other. There were even a few times we’d accidentally fallen asleep in each others dorms. It had always been purely platonic, although Piper had questioned us about it hundreds of times.
After we got to camp, we obviously weren’t allowed to sleep in the same cabin- or even lay together. And now with Coach Hedge on the look out… let’s just say I missed the times we got to spend together like this.
I took a deep breath, pushing the memories aside and bringing myself back to the present moment. I could feel Leo’s hands fiddling with the hair on the back of my neck.
“Leo?” I asked, exhaling.
“Hm?” He hummed quietly.
“Can you be honest with me?” I whispered, as I begun subconsciously tapping again on his side where my hand rested.
He was silent for a moment, still fiddling with my hair, before saying, “Of course, querida.”
I nodded, feeling the warmth of his neck against my cheek. “What’s been going on with you? I know the whole evil spirit thing was a lot… but something else has just seemed… off? You know?”
He took a deep sigh, hands moving to fiddle with something from the floor now instead of my hair. “The ‘whole evil spirit thing’ was definitely a lot…” he whispered, mocking the way I said it.
“But, I don’t really know.” He said, shifting slightly below me.
I lifted my head, looking up at him, and lightly tapping a word that I had learned very well on his side. Liar.
He shook his head, rolling his eyes at my gesture. “You just know me so well, huh?” He teased.
“Of course I do.” I nodded, now fully propping myself up to look at him. “And I know when something is off with you.”
He breaks eye contact, suddenly finding the wooden wall a lot more interesting than this conversation. “This just isn’t really what I expected… I don’t know.” He trails off.
He’s always had a hard time talking about his feelings. He didn’t open up to me about his mom until nine months into our friendship. I understood completely, but all I wanted was to help him.
The night that he finally opened up to me about her, I had helped him relax and then the words started flowing much more easily. I decided that I should do the same now.
I slowly reached my hands up to his head, bringing them to his hair and massaging gently. He leaned into my touch and closed his eyes.
“You don’t know?” I asked, not stopping my movements.
He hummed, clearly only half-paying attention now.
“It’s not what you expected?” I asked, repeating what he had just told me.
He opened his eyes slightly, gazing up at my face, but closed them again and leaned his head fully into his pillow. He gave a slight shrug, “I just feel…” he paused for a minute before continuing, “kind of like an outsider?”
I was taken aback by his words, but I didn’t show it. An outsider? And he’s saying this to the one person who gets him more than anyone?
I continued massaging his head, nodding at his words even though he couldn’t see me. “An outsider? Why?” I asked gently.
He shrugged again, and softly mumbled, “Everybody here just seems so useful to eachother. Percy and Jason have all their awesome powers. Piper literally saved me with her charm speak, Annabeth has her super smarts, you are just like all around perfect…” he trailed off, opening one eye to look at me.
I blushed, tucking my head into his neck again, but didn’t stop massaging his head.
He continued, “Hazel and Frank… actually I haven’t gotten to know them very well yet, but I bet they can do some awesome stuff too.” He finished.
The tone of his voice could’ve shattered my heart. When he finished talking, I pulled my hands away from his hair, propping myself up to get a better look at him.
“Leo?” I asked gently. He moved both of his hands behind his head again to look up at me.
“Yeah?”
“Who built this ship?” I ask.
“My cabin.” He answered.
“No Leo. Who is responsible for building this ship?” I asked again.
His eyebrows furrowed, before responding, “Me, but-“
“No.” I cut him off, “Stop that. None of us would even be here without you. You’re the most important one here. Seriously.” I said, confidently.
He let the corner of his mouth twitch into a slight smile, “Thanks, querida.”
I looked at him for a few moments, still not feeling like the air had been cleared. He wouldn’t make eye contact with me.
“Leo.” I said softly.
“Yeah?” He asked, still not meeting my eyes.
“That’s not everything, is it?” I asked, laying back down next to him and trying to catch his eyes.
He glanced over at me, before staring at the ceiling and giving his head a small shake.
“What’s going on?” I asked, reaching out a hand to rest on his arm and draw soothing shapes on it.
He pursed his lips, momentarily glancing at me again. He shook his head before speaking, “That’s not the only reason I feel like an outsider.”
I continued tracing shapes on his arm, “Then what is it?” I asked.
He gave a small chuckle, “You’re not going to let me joke my way through this one are you?”
“Never, Valdez,” I smiled through my words, shaking my head and scooting closer to him.
He finally turned his head toward me, looking into my eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again.
When he finally spoke, his voice was even softer than before. “Do you ever feel like… everyone’s got somebody and you’re just alone?”
I nod, recognizing this conversation as one we’d had before- particularly about when we were in foster care.
“You know I do.” I said gently.
“Well…” he said, rolling his head back toward the ceiling and throwing his arm over his face. “I just thought I was done feeling like that when we got to camp- and when I met you, Jason, and Piper- of course. But now that we’ve started this quest I’ve been feeling that way more than ever…” he trailed off, still covering his face with his arm.
I paused for a moment, considering his words. Could this be because of the Eidolon? Or maybe because we’re so far from all of his newfound brothers and sisters?
“Why do you think that is, Leo?” I asked, allowing my hand to rest now on his arm.
He removed his arm from his face, eyes directed toward the ceiling in silence for what felt like ages, before speaking, “…I don’t know how to explain it…” he paused again for several moments, “Like… Jason and Piper have eachother, Annabeth and Percy have eachother, Frank and Hazel don’t know it yet but they obviously are going to be together… and I just feel like… I don’t know…”
I processed his words, feeling the truth of them sink in. Almost everyone on our ship was paired off. But then again- so were we. The friendship that we shared did that for us. We had a connection between the two of us that we didn’t have with anyone else. We did all the same things as any of the other couples… we just weren’t a couple.
I start tracing my fingers along his arm again, softly saying, “Well, we have eachother.”
His eyes flickered to mine briefly, and then he fully turned on his side to finally face me, looking me directly in the eye.
I dropped my hand, feeling my heart rate pick up a little bit. I wasn’t sure why I was nervous, but it didn’t feel like a bad type of nervous.
“We have eachother.” He repeated, nodding.
“Of course.” I confirmed, nodding as well.
I watched as his eyes scanned over my face once, then again.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a q-tip and a plastic bottle cap and began fidgeting with them.
“That’s different though,” he said, now watching his hands work with the items.
“Is it really, though?” I asked, watching him fidget as well. “I mean, you’re my best friend. We tell eachother everything, and we do things like-“ I paused, gesturing between us, “this.” I finished.
He nodded slowly, not meeting my eyes.
“I mean how different is that really from what they have?” I asked, shifting onto my back so I could stare at the ceiling.
He paused his fidgeting, returning the items to his pocket. He took a deep breath in, exhaling slowly. I was familiar with this look on his face. It meant he was deep in thought. It was the same look that he had when he’d be working in bunker 9.
I studied his face, reaching a hand out to gently rest on his cheek. He leaned into my hand, pressing a quick kiss to it before meeting my eyes again.
“You really are something special, you know that?” He whispered, glancing behind me at the cracked door.
I blushed, shaking my head slightly, “You are, Leo.” I said, scooting closer to him.
I could feel his breath on my face, and he glanced again to the cracked door.
I turned my head to see what he was looking at. “Everything okay?” I asked, “Did you hear something?”
When he didn’t answer, I turned my face to look back at him. He was now inches from me, looking intently into my eyes, and I swear I could see his eyes flicker to my lips for just a millisecond. He shook his head, looking back into my eyes.
A swarm of butterflies filled my stomach, and I could feel my face getting hot, but I stared back at him.
“Want me to close it?” I whispered, watching his chest rise and fall with every breath he took.
He nodded.
I sat up, pushing the door closed as quietly as I could with my foot. It shut with a quiet click, and I paused for a moment, listening to ensure that no one else had stirred from the sound.
When I was sure that no one had woken up, I turned back around, laying next to him again. His gaze was heavy on my face, and this time I was sure I caught his eyes flicker to my lips for a second.
Neither of us moved, just scanning eachothers faces- and I knew mine was bright red.
After a moment I whispered, “you okay?”
He opened his mouth again, but the words didn’t find him. He shifted, reaching out his hand to rest on my cheek gently, his hand warm and comforting. Our eye contact grew even heavier, and I felt a stirring deep in my stomach.
He leaned closer, hesitantly, as if he wasn’t sure what I would do. I immediately leaned in as well, closing the gap between us. We found eachothers lips in a hot, passionate kiss.
His mouth desperately moved over mine with a pent-up intensity. His hands tangled into my hair, ruffling gently to angle my face to move in sync with his. I gasped into the kiss, feeling his body against mine. The hand that wasn’t in my hair slid around my waist, his fingers pressing gently into my back as the kiss deepened, and I heard a low groan escape his throat. The sound made me feel like we were both on fire.
Each brush against each other sent shivers through my spine. I allowed my hands to move, finding his shoulders. The lean muscle was a familiar feeling beneath my fingers, but I gripped on him, bringing him even closer. I ran my hands down his back, silently encouraging him to press against me until I could feel every inch of him. His lips left mine, tracing down my jaw and grazing along my neck. I could feel waves of heat pulsing through my body. I gasped, tipping my head back as his mouth found a spot just below my ear, his lips burning against my skin.
He shifted, kicking my legs apart until his body was pressing me gently back against the wooden floor, and he was hovering over me. Both of us were breathing heavily, gazes intent on eachother as I felt his entire body against mine. He leaned down again, with more confidence this time, capturing my lips desperately. I could feel his hand shakily slipping beneath the hem of my shirt, hot fingers brushing the bare skin on my stomach.
My own hands followed his lead and roamed under his shirt, tracing the muscles along his back with my finger tips. I let out a quiet moan as he shifted his weight, pressing into me. His head dropped and his mouth returned to my neck, trailing a line of hot kisses and gentle bites that made me feel light headed. My fingers moved from his back to tangle in his hair, tugging gently, and he groaned against my skin. His hand continued moving up my side, leaving a trail of heat everywhere he touched.
As his hand traveled up, my shirt bunched up with it. His fingertips grazed my skin, and he lifted his head to look at me. “You’re so beautiful, mi amor.” He whispered, breathlessly.
He leaned in again, his lips trailing down my collarbone, pressing heated kisses against my skin as I tangled my hands in his hair again. He pressed his forehead to my collarbone, kissing all over. His hand resting on my side, and I felt the soft tapping of his fingers against my skin. He was using Morse code. He was tapping- love you. The realization sent a flood of warmth through my stomach, and I gripped his shoulders, pulling him even closer, feeling my eyes sting with pure love and happiness.
Then he shifted his weight again, his hips pressing into mine in a slow, intentional motion that left me breathless. I let out a soft gasp as I held onto his shoulders, feeling his heartbeat pounding against my own. His hands traced down my sides, his touch careful, as he pressed into me again, each movement full of longing.
We moved together, every touch and soft gasp saying what words couldn’t. His lips found mine once again, kissing more deeply, more fervent. I could almost feel his lips quirk into a smile against my lips as he took continued shifting his hips against mine. It was just us, our connection, tangled together, as everything else seemed to fade away.
The intensity slowly softened, and he cradled me in his arms, our foreheads pressed together as the room grew still. We were both panting, looking deeply into eachothers eyes and neither of us could fight the smiles overtaking our faces.
His fingers traced soothing patterns along my skin, and I reached my hand to his side. Gently tapping out the same code that he had earlier- love you.
Looking into his eyes, I could see them start to water a little bit too, as mine had before. It was just us. The two who never had a home, never had anyone who truly loved them- and now we were finding it all in each other.
The rest of the night was filled with soft whispered words, and several more gentle kisses. We were so completely wrapped up in our own little world that we didn’t even realize when we started to drift off together.
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of the door opening. I was immediately confused about where I was, until I felt his arms still wrapped around me, and smelled his soft scent of campfire. I looked up and he had a line of drool running down his chin. Adorable.
I heard someone clear their throat from behind me, and I instantly sat up, spinning around to see who it was.
My frantic movement had made Leo sit up as well, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
Annabeth stood at the door, arms crossed, looking down at us with an amused look on her face.
“It’s not what it looks like-“ I began.
Annabeth cut me off, “It’s definitely what it looks like.”
I could feel my face get hot, as I turned to Leo for help- but he was just staring at her wide-eyed like a deer in headlights.
I exhaled, shaking my head, “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay after-“
She cut me off again, “The Eidolon? I won’t tell Hedge, don’t worry. Just get back to your cabin before anyone else finds you two down here.” She said, gesturing up the stairs to my cabin.
I nodded, standing up and straightening out my appearance. I glanced back down at Leo, who looked extremely relieved.
As I went to exit, Annabeth held out a hand to stop me. She glanced down at my neck, then back at my face and let out a loud laugh.
“What?” I asked.
“On second thought, go see Piper before you go back to your cabin. She has some makeup.” Annabeth said, clearly amused.
“Makeup?” I asked, confused.
“You’ll see when you get there.” She said, shaking her head and looking back down at Leo.
As I headed away to the stairs, I could hear Annabeth talking to Leo. She said something like, “I like the idea. How comfortable would you say the stables are?”
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delulustateofmind · 10 hours ago
Text
SatoSugu x reader blurb
Tw: Yandere themes, Manipulation, Rough Sex. MDNI. Unedited.
A/n: I don't know what came over me but this thought would not leave my mind. I tried writing a fic for it but just couldn't get the right idea out. Here's a blurb for now!
****
Imagine if Suguru never defected but still had his distain for nonsorcerers.
His sweet, caring boyfriend, Satoru, brought you home as if you were some sort of lost puppy. Clinging to you as if you were some sort of prize.
"Suguru! I just met the love of my life! Saved her all on my own. You told me to protect the weak, right?" Satoru's smile a bit too wide, eyes a bit too bright.
Words that definitely bit Suguru in the ass.
Suguru would just give his usual polite smile and welcome you with open arms into the relationship.
Yet, he will never love you. He loved Satoru and wanted to keep his blue-eyed freak happy. If it meant showing you some sort of affection and making sure you never leave? Well, he will do what has to be done.
Kissing your temple with utmost care as you were about to head off to your pathetic nonsorcer job. Coddling you whenever Satoru was being too mean to you.
"Poor thing, he just doesn't know your limits yet. Don't worry, I'll speak to him, " and then proceeds to kick you out of the bedroom for the rest of the night. "Talking" with Satoru.
Or the infamous situation when Satoru had his feral moments. Suguru would have your back against his chest. As Satoru was pounding into your sweet cunt. Every time you tried to close your legs, Suguru would just tsk and hold them open. His touch bruising. A feral look in Satoru's bright blue eyes as he gave you both a lovesick smile. Yet the way he was rutting into you like a dog in heat, had you seeing bright patches of light and stars. The safeword on the tip of your tongue as tears started to form.
"Ah-ah," Suguru cooed next to your ear, a calm whisper. "If we have to protect your kind while our comrades die. This is the least you could do, right? Servicing the strongest sorcerers. That's all you're good for." He'd say so smoothly and delicately each word flowing like warm honey.
Your heart would pound. Suguru would see the tears welling up in your eyes as you looked at him. You thought he loved you? A pathetic little thing.
"Come on, you think I love you?" You could feel your climax approaching as Suguru removed a hand from the fat of your thigh to your sweet little clit that he began running circles on. "I keep you around because you make Satoru happy. You're nothing but a - " The words almost fell from his lips but your whine interrupted him. "Remember if you run, I'll always catch you" As you panted in his arms as he nursed you through your climax. Satoru was panting into the crook of your neck as his hot sticky ropes coated your walls. "The strongest needs an heir anyways" A smile on Suguru's face as he finished his sentence.
Yeah, he will never love you, but he could at least fake it for his one true love.
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itsactuallycorrine · 1 day ago
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action & reaction
buddie; 1.6K; s08e06 spec; hopeful ending
series now complete: part 1 | part 2
Buck sits uneasily on top of the closed toilet lid, watching as a still red-cheeked and bloodshot-eyed Eddie scrapes a razor along his top lip. 
He hadn’t been certain what he’d do or say when he beelined from his loft to Eddie’s door after his revelation. There’d been a half-formed thought of talking it out, or making some big confession, a vague recollection of a line from some old movie Maddie had loved ringing in his ears about wanting to start the rest of your life as soon as possible. 
Finding Eddie in pieces on his living room floor had thrown all that out.
So had Eddie’s first words when he’d finally calmed down enough to speak:
“I want to shave this fucking mustache off.”
So now, here they are, Buck worried out of his mind and too afraid to take his sights off Eddie, while Eddie shaves his fucking mustache off.
When it’s gone, Eddie stares at himself long and hard in the mirror before cutting a glance at Buck. “So?”
Buck surveys his face and smiles a little. “Still just as handsome,” he teases, smile growing as Eddie rolls his eyes and huffs, pink blooming in the apples of his cheeks. “C’mon, man, you know what you look like. Mustache, no mustache. It doesn’t really make a difference.”
It doesn’t land the way Buck anticipated. “Yeah, I guess not,” Eddie says heavily, turning back to his own reflection. “I thought it’d—never mind, it’s stupid.”
“No, what?” Buck asks. 
“I thought it’d be easier to, you know.” He gestures to the mirror. “If I didn’t really look like myself. I could pretend for a while that I wasn’t—that it wasn’t really me this was happening to. It was happening to some other Eddie in some other fucked up timeline or universe or whatever.”
It breaks Buck’s heart even more than he’d thought possible. “Eddie…”
But Eddie shrugs it off, turning his back to the mirror and crossing his arms. “But it is me. There is no mirror Eddie to blame. I did this. I cheated on Marisol, I brought Kim into our life, I…” His voice breaks. “I drove Christopher away. I did it. But” — he sighs, runs a hand through his hair — “I didn’t do it all alone.”
For the first time in months, a spark of hope kindles in Buck’s chest. “No, you didn’t. Kim chose to come back even after you broke it off. Your parents swept Chris away without even attempting to mediate.” He hesitates. “Christopher chose to leave instead of talking it out.”
“Shannon asked for a divorce when I wanted to fix things,” Eddie adds grimly, and Buck sucks in a shocked breath.
“Y-you never told me that. When?”
“Right before she died. She, uh, thought she might be pregnant and I thought that maybe…maybe it was the sign we needed to recommit to each other. But it turns out both of us were wrong—there was no baby, and she didn’t want that, want me.” Eddie shrugs, but it falls short of casual when his shoulders slump forward miserably.
Buck stares as his head spins. He’d always wondered, hadn’t he? He’d always wondered why Eddie kept coming back to this, to Shannon, couldn’t move on no matter how hard he’d tried. Obviously, Eddie had loved Shannon, but the way he spoke about her, the way he put her on this untouchable pedestal for Christopher, who already knew his mother wasn’t perfect, the way he viewed their relationship with rose-colored glasses when Buck knew how messy it had been…it had always concerned Buck. 
But this, this was the ugly, gnarled root of the problem, one that had grown up around Eddie’s ankles, holding him in place, never letting him move on. It ensnared him, kept him caught in the moment, an awful, terrible moment with no closure. Because instead of a divorce and a definitive closed door to their marriage or a reconciliation and fresh start, Eddie watched Shannon die. The diverging path cut short right at the crossroads, the choice taken out of Eddie’s hands. 
“She said that? That she didn’t want you?” Buck asks. Even without his recent epiphany, the idea seems ludicrous. After all, who wouldn’t want Eddie? 
“Well, no,” Eddie admits. “She said she was still figuring out how to be a mother and didn’t think she was ready to be a wife, too.” 
“Okay. Well, w-were you ready to be a husband? Honestly?”
“Would I have offered if I wasn’t?” At Buck’s unimpressed stare, Eddie sighs. “I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not.” 
Buck hums. “So it seems like maybe her decision wasn’t really about you at all, then. You just had to deal with the fallout, along with some truly shitty, tragic timing.”
Eddie says with a half-amused huff, “To put it mildly.” 
“It wasn’t your fault, Eddie,” Buck says, softly. “You made mistakes, yeah, but it wasn’t all on you. You’ve gotta stop punishing yourself, man. You’re not just hurting yourself; you’re hurting Christopher.”
Eyes welling, Eddie looks at the floor and nods. “I know. And I think—I think I’m really ready to let go of it now. I am. But, God, I just… how do I move forward, Buck? I’ve been here so long that I don’t know where to go from here. How to start cleaning up my mess, to start fixing the things I let this break. How to live without this looming over me.” 
With a long, slow exhale, Buck climbs to his feet and takes Eddie by the arms, waiting until their gazes lock. “I don’t have the answers either, but we can figure it out. Together.”
A sole tear rolls down Eddie’s cheek as it swells with a shaky smile. “I can’t ask that of you.”
“You’re not asking. I’m telling you—I’m here. I’m always gonna be here for you, Eddie, as long as you let me. Always. You don’t have to figure this or anything out alone.”
Eddie just nods as a few more tears spill over. He pulls Buck into a brief, grateful hug, and Buck closes his eyes and savors it. They do this so infrequently, and he’s never understood why. Eddie’s a pretty demonstrative guy, and neither of them are shy about hugging anyone else. But it feels different when it’s them, more weighted, more meaningful—and maybe that’s why. Maybe, subconsciously, Buck knew what it meant all along and held back. 
And maybe along the way, Eddie realized it, too, and didn’t want to encourage Buck or lead him on. Buck pulls back a little uneasily as the embrace breaks, but there’s nothing in Eddie’s expression beyond lingering tears and gratitude. 
They’ve finally made their way into the kitchen, sharing coffee across the table, when Eddie cocks his head. “Did you just drop by to check on me? Or did you need something before I distracted you with all the—” He waves in the general direction of the living room, a little sheepish. 
I love you.
I’m in love with you, and I think we’ve been building a really beautiful life together. 
This, us, our family, is all I’ve ever dreamt of, and if you’d just give me one chance…
Is there any reality in which you could be in love with me, too? Could want me, too? 
But he can’t say any of it, can he? He can’t do that to Eddie now, not when he’s finally ready to shed the past and move forward, not while so many loose ends are still waiting to be resolved. 
“Nah,” Buck says, hiding his farce of a smile by taking a drink. “I guess that call at the well got to me a little and I just…wanted to see you, make sure you were okay.” 
“Okay might be a stretch.” Eddie laughs and gives Buck a soft smile. “But I’ll get there.”
“I know you will.” Buck’s lashes lower as he smiles, a little shyly, and something rolls over in Eddie’s chest, a familiar fondness trussed in ribbons of longing. 
And, look, it’s never really gone away—that tug of yearning he has for Buck, one he’s known for years—but it has been somewhat muted over the past few months while Eddie had more pressing concerns. It used to terrify him, loving Buck the way he does, because he could never reconcile it with the past, with his own identity. 
It still terrifies him, if he’s being honest, because once he digs himself out of the hole he’s created, he’s going to have to reckon with this once and for all, the looming specter over his shoulder that he’s avoided looking at for over three decades. 
He’d been able to cope when he’d thought it was just a pipe dream, when there was no way—even if Eddie did face all his demons head on—Buck would ever feel the same. But then Tommy had come along and fractured that foundational belief, and was it any wonder that Eddie had blown up his own life right after that? 
But here in the aftermath of an emotional day, in the quiet intimacy of the kitchen, it doesn’t seem nearly as scary. Not when Buck’s face is a pretty pink over the rim of his coffee cup, his heart stalwart and steadfast and too damn generous. He hasn’t run from Eddie’s mess, not ever, and he’s just promised to stand by Eddie’s side as he pieces his life back together. How could Eddie do anything but love Buck? 
And for the first time, that feels like more of a blessing than a curse. It’s the light at the end of a very dark tunnel, leading him home, with the hope and faith that Buck will be there waiting for him when he arrives. 
ao3
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cherrybomb107 · 1 day ago
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I see people saying that Silco ultimately had Zaun’s best interests at heart, but I disagree. I think HE definitely thinks that, but at the end of the day, actions speak louder than words. Silco didn’t act like a revolutionary. He acted like a wannabe Piltie who disguised his rhetoric with vague plans of rebellion and monologues 😭😭😭
Disclaimer: I love Silco! He’s one of my favorite characters in Arcane and I think he was a fabulous villain. Not quite THE big bad(that title is reserved for the institution of Piltover and its apathy and downright callousness towards the Undercity) but he was definitely a villain at the end of the day. No amount of “nuance” or “character complexity” is gonna erase that
Let’s start with the obvious: the fact that he fully planned on killing Powder before she launched herself into his arms and he realized how similar they were. I’m sorry, but in my mind, no one who’s willing to kill children is a revolutionary. Sorry. 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷����‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️Only reason why he didn’t is because he saw himself in her. If he truly believed in revolution, he could’ve done youth outreach programs to get young people involved in protests, and given them classes on what to do/how to prepare for when the enforcers show up to shut them down. That’s a real thing that’s been done before btw. I know Arcane is fiction, but it deals with politics that mirror our real world struggles. If Silco actually backed up his claims of wanting freedom for Zaun, he’d do things like this.
To continue this, the creation of Shimmer. Silco claims it’s needed in order to give Zaunites the strength they need to fight back against Piltover. Which, again, I’m sure he believes that, but come on. Creating a monopoly on a highly addictive drug that permanently disfigures its users when they take too much is not the way to go about it. Modeling the capitalist system of Piltover is ultimately not going to help. Shimmer does make people feel empowered, yes. But that empowered feeling doesn’t last long, and when you come down from your high, all you want is more, more, more. So where does that leave you?
It leads you to living out on the streets, willing to do anything for your next hit. That’s what happened to Huck, and we don’t even know how many others. Silco never once expressed concern for the wellbeing of the addicts that he created! What kind of revolutionary would toss his own people to the side when they’re no longer useful to him?
Speaking of the drugs, why does he have children working in his factories? Now, child labor is a very complex issue. I’m from the States, so we’re generally (or we claim to be anyway) against child labor. In other countries however, children not only work, but they protest and fight for their right to work. They take pride in their work. So I don’t want to debate the morality of child labor. I wanted to bring it up for the sake of the argument. Let’s say that child labor is a cultural norm in the Undercity. That brings me back to my original question: why does Silco have kids working in his factories? Child labor isn’t the issue; it’s the kind of labor they’re doing and the level of danger they could be in. What kinds of things are the kids that work in Silco’s factories responsible for? Do they get equal pay to their adult counterparts? Worker’s comp if something happens/they get injured on the job? Are there even protections in place so that there are little to no injuries? These are questions which we can’t even begin to answer, because Silco never brings it up!
He never talks about the ways in which he sets out to improve not just the lives of child laborers in Zaun, their adult counterparts, or people in Zaun, period! He only ever talks about “the nation of Zaun” in the abstract. Never once does he sit down and ask himself if this is the best way to go about it. I’m pro revolution. I absolutely believe that the people of Zaun have the right to fight back against their oppressors. But, with the way Silco was acting, he functionally became another oppressor.
Let’s say he was able to make a deal with Jayce and secure the Undercity’s freedom without having to sacrifice Jinx. What would that even look like? What does Silco know about running a government? How would he address the population of Shimmer addicts he manufactured? You can’t just get rid of/stop the production of Shimmer and leave those people without support! It’s true that the air was cleaner under Silco’s reign. But “cleaner” is the operative word. Doesn’t mean it was completely clean. And if people in Zaun didn’t even have clean air, who’s to say they had access to clean water and good food? Did Silco ever do anything to address those issues or did he, along with the rest of the chembarons, acquire enough capital to tell working class and underprivileged Zaunites “fuck you, I got mine”?
To summarize, Silco SAYS he wants freedom from Piltover’s oppression. He SAYS he wants to give his people the power to fight back. But actions speak louder than words. I can’t think of a single action that Silco took that benefited anyone outside of him and those closest to him. Realistically speaking he would have been a terrible leader for Zaun, and it all would’ve fallen apart when he died/was killed for his lack of leadership skills. It was only a matter of time imo.
Did he ever truly want to remove the boot from the Undercity’s neck? Or did he just want to be the one wearing it? I’m leaning towards the latter. But maybe that’s just me.
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