snekleton

[regal-bones]

SWORDTEMBER DAY 15: TECHNO

Dead Man’s Beats, of unholy pact and demonic bassline 💀💿 A sea of glowsticks illuminated by blacklight hellfire. Bright lightning dancing through screaming souls, feet jumping bloody and raw against the hard stone floor, slick with sweat and blood. That bass shook the ground, rattling your very bones, making your lungs tremble, bounce, making your breath come in short dry bursts. There was no water to parch your aching throat, just the heat of bodies moving and shouting inches away. Rising above the sea of anguish, like a pillar of dark obsidian against humanity’s sins, the dark jockey and his booth of the damned. His empty skull screams as the next song starts, the crowd screams back, their bodies aching, feet blistered, ready for another mix in the set of eternity.

Unce unce unce

Yesterday’s sword!

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[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 15 - Yandere!Siren!Yeosang + Predator/Prey & Body Worship

@thesafecafe Said: Hi Jackie! I'd like to request Yandere! Siren Yeosang + Consensual Predator/prey & Body worship for the kinktober prompts! A/n: *Mr. Krabs voice* DAY FIFTEEN! GIVE IT UP FOR DAY FIFTEEN! Lmaooo no, but in all seriousness, I was not expecting this one to be this long. I had a little too much fun writing it. Also, Yan!Siren!Yeosang with a breeding kink was not on my 2024 bingo card, but here we are! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Yandere, Possession, Monstrous Features, Breeding Word Count: 2,582 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

The cove is near silent, the only sounds heard being the gentle rush of water against the shore. It’s steady, and rhythmic, matching a particular heartbeat as eyes peer above water. Inky black surrounds the faintest glimmer of golden irises, mirroring the way the moon illuminates the surface of the sea, and blending together in perfect harmony.

Below the surface, a tail swishes languidly, keeping him afloat.

The deepest of black scales cut through the water, the richest of golds shining between the veins. His colouring has always allowed him to blend in well with his surroundings, and tonight is no excuse. It’s one of the many reasons why he’s the best hunter in his guild.

Yeosang slows his breathing even further, straining his ears to hear any discrepancies in the area. He knows you’re around here somewhere, but you’ve hidden yourself better than he ever could have imagined.

It irritates him. You should already be in his grasp, pinned beneath him on the shore as he finally claims you as his own. After all, he’s certainly waited long enough for this moment. It’s not like he’s been anticipating mating with you for months now, or anything…

Closing his eyes, Yeosang takes in a deep breath. Stilling his movements as much as he can, he focusses in on his surroundings. The sound of the tide does not change, but perhaps he’ll be able to hear your breathing-

There!

Golden eyes snap open, the faintest of vibrations felt beneath the surface of the water. His head snaps towards a small nook, hidden away behind some rocks. There, ripples dance almost inconceivably across the surface of the water.

A slip on your part may just be your one fatal mistake.

Silently, Yeosang slides beneath the water, submerging himself with the tide and inhaling deeply. The faintest bit of your intoxicating scent drifts in from that little alcove, and he swears he can hear the telltale signs of feet treading water.

He does not hesitate for a moment longer.

Like lightning, he streaks across the surface of the water. Though his movements are quick, not a sound is made, nor a shift in the tide to indicate his approaching presence. Each flick of his tail is precise, anticipation clawing at his chest and threatening to make his heart burst at any moment.

He dives deeper, ensuring that you won’t see him coming as he approaches you eagerly.

Your own movements are as minimal as can be, treading water near the edge of that little hidden alcove. Your body is nearly pressed right against the surrounding rocks, one hand gripping the surface to help keep your balance and hold yourself up. Your eyes watch the only known entrance to this little hiding place like a hawk, darting to look beneath the surface every now and again.

The erratic beating of your heart has seemed to calm for the moment thanks to some breathing exercises you’ve been using. You’ve synced each inhalation with the tide, your chest ebbing and flowing like the water around you. There’s no out-swimming or out-maneuvering the beautiful creature that pursues you while submerged beneath the waves. Your best option is to hide and hope to all hell that you can survive for as long as possible before getting caught.

Sparing another glance towards the depths below, your breath hitches in your throat. Excitement thrums through your veins as you see those all too familiar golden orbs surrounded by the deepest of blacks staring you down.

Your heart skips a beat, breath catching in your throat once more as you push yourself right up against the rocks. Your hands reach out on either side of you for a ledge, feet sliding against the cool smoothness behind you as he approaches. The fact that he purposely slows his movements the closer that he gets to you only sends a thrill shooting up your spine.

There’s no way out, and now, he’s finally found you.

A pleased, melodic hum fills the surrounding cavern.

“I told you there was no point in hiding.” His deep voice rumbles out, nothing but his eyes breaching the surface of the water.

The way you can hear every word he speaks so clearly, even with his mouth still concealed beneath the waves has a shiver caressing your spine. His piercing gaze stares you down, and you cannot help the way your whole body seems to freeze at the predatory look in his eyes.

Slowly, he begins stalking towards you.

“There’s nowhere to escape, My Precious Pearl.” Another melodic hum fills the air, the water eerily silent around you. “You’re trapped now.”

Flicking your gaze beside his head, you glance the only opening. Bending your legs, you prepare to push yourself off of the rocks, planning to rush passed him as a last ditch attempt to evade your pursuer.

Only, he’s faster.

“Ah-ah-ah,” Yeosang tuts, his arms now securely wrapped around you and pulling you flush against the smooth, sculpted planes of his chest. “You’re mine now.”

Gently, his nose traces over the side of your neck, inhaling you deeply.

A shudder wracks his spine as his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck- you smell incredible.” He coos, arms tightening around your waist. “My Precious Pearl,” he nuzzles into you affectionately, “I finally found you.”

“Yeosang…” Your voice is but a whisper, attempting to free yourself from his grasp.

“You’re not getting away from me that easily.” He growls, pressing you against him ever tighter. “I caught you, fair and square. Finally, you’re mine.”

Your hands come up to settle on his upper chest, eyes nearly fluttering as you feel him beginning to trace his lips against your pulse. The moment he starts pressing kisses along your skin, your lips part, trusting him to hold you steady as he wraps you securely in his arms.

“Oh, yeah?” A shaky exhale is given, leaning the slightest bit away from him teasingly. “Just what part of me belongs to you?”

Yeosang’s eyes flash, another low growl shaking his chest.

“Everything.” His claws dig into your thighs, tracing his fingers up and down your skin. “Your everything belongs to me.”

Sliding your hands up his shoulders and around his neck, your fingers begin teasingly threading through his hair.

“Says who?” Narrowing your eyes, a knowing smirk tugs at the corner of your lips.

His tail twitches beneath the water as his eyes flash. “Me.”

Before you even have a chance to respond, Yeosang has disappeared beneath the surface of the waves. His hands never leave your body, tracing down your sides and shredding through the minuscule amount of clothing you still have on.

The way his claws feel dancing across your skin has your lips parting in a moan.

His hands encircle your ankles, and your breath hitches. Only, what you don’t expect him to do is push you against the stones, using his strength to keep you balanced and afloat.

Gently, his thumbs begin to caress the inside of your ankles.

“Such beautiful feet.” A melodic hum can be heard reverberating from beneath the water. “I would split the very earth in two should anything befall your path, Beloved.”

The feeling of him leaning in to place a tender kiss to the inside arch of either foot makes you giggle, his hair tickling your skin.

“I will lay waste to anybody at your feet whom should choose to belittle you, cheat you… hurt you.” His eyes flash, glancing up at you from below with an intensity you’ve only ever seen a few times before. “Your feet are mine to wash, and ensure no discomfort ever befalls you again.”

Your heart flutters, toes wiggling happily as Yeosang shifts up your body.

“There is nothing more satisfying than the feeling of your legs wrapped around me, My Pearl.” He continues, tracing his claws gently up your calves. “Such beautiful skin… So soft and smooth…”

Each touch is tender, Yeosang taking his time to admire you properly.

“Mine to worship.” He squeezes the flesh of your inner thighs appreciatively. “Mine to touch. Mine to make shake in uncontrollable ecstasy.”

A soft gasp of his name slips passed your lips, and you swear you can see him smirk from beneath the surface of the water.

“You do not know how beautiful you are, Beloved. I promise to spend every day of the rest of our lives together telling you just how incredible you are.” He hums, taking his time to trail kisses up your inner thighs, nipping at the skin and biting small marks for all to see. “And if anybody so much as questions that, or makes you doubt your worth, I will not hesitate to rid them of their lower halves.”

Nosing his way up your thigh, your breath hitches. You can feel yourself clench around nothing in anticipation the closer he gets to your cunt. Only, to your disappointment, or perhaps, great relief, he brushes right passed your core.

Sliding his hands up the curve of your ass, his fingers finally settle onto the skin of your lower back.

Pressing his face into your stomach, Yeosang inhales deeply. A shudder caresses his spine, his claws digging lightly into your lower back as he holds you close. Soft kisses are placed in a halo around your stomach, his tongue darting out to flick against your skin.

“There is nothing about you that I do not love.” A loving sigh accompanies his words, nuzzling his face deeper against your stomach. “Every inch of you is perfect, especially for me.”

Your hands shift back to his hair, fingers gently threading through the strands as his tail flicks languidly beneath the surface.

“I’ve always wondered…” Yeosang hums softly, peeking up at you with that familiar golden gaze. “Would you let me breed you? Would you let me fill you so full of my seed that it’d be dripping out of you for weeks?”

A whimper escapes you, clenching hard from his words.

His one hand slips between your legs, parting your folds and dragging the tips of his fingers gently over you.

“Fuck- you’re already soaked, Precious,” He shudders against you, fingers finding your clit and circling that swollen little nub slowly. “Are you this wet from the thought of me filling you with my come? Does the idea of me fucking you full of my seed, and claiming you as my own turn you on that much?”

“Yes!” A desperate whine parts your lips, tossing your head back to rest against the rocks. “Fuck- I want to feel you claiming this pussy as your own-“

A choked moan escapes you as he slides a finger into your cunt.

Yeosang chuckles, using his thumb to continue circling over your clit.

“Keep going, Beloved.” His nose nudges against your stomach as he slowly lowers himself between your legs. Golden orbs flash up at you from within the darkness. “I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Another whimper escapes you as you feel him settle your legs over his shoulders. His head nuzzles against your inner thigh, hair tickling your skin as he adds another finger. Languidly, he pumps them into you, massaging your inner walls as his thumb circles over your clit.

The way your thighs twitch has a smirk pulling at his lips.

“Fuck- Yeosang!” Your hips roll forwards, attempting to seek the most amount of pleasure that you can in this moment. Only, the way he slows the movements of his thumb, practically stalling his fingers as he buries them deep inside of you has you whining for more. 

Meeting his gaze, you understand that in order for him to give you what you want, you have to give him what he wants.

“I want you to claim me!” Your words come out rushed, attempting to grind your hips against his hand. A gasp escapes you as he curls his fingers lightly. “Want you to fill me full of your come until all I can think about is you.”

Your whole body jolts as he removes his thumb from your clit only to lean in and press a chaste kiss to that swollen little bud. The fact that you can feel his smirk against your cunt makes your thighs twitch.

“Been thinking about you so much, Baby,” You admit with a hum. “Been thinking about how good you’d feel buried deep inside of me… about the way your skin would feel pressed against my own as you make me scream your name…��

Yeosang’s pleased growl reverberates against your cunt, his tongue darting out to begin flicking at your clit. The whole while, his fingers never stop their languid pace as they curl deep inside of you.

Not even a moment later, his lips are wrapping around your clit, suckling lightly at you as he grips your ass with his free hand.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“I want you to fill me so full of your seed that I’d feel empty without you.” You pant, fingers tightening in his hair. The way you can feel him sucking harder on your clit as you speak lets you know that he’s enjoying your words as much as you were enjoying his own earlier. “Fuck! Yeosang-“ You gasp, eyes squeezing shut as you feel yourself teetering on the edge. “I want you to fuck a baby into me!”

As soon as those words fall from your lips, your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Your body arches off of the rocks, a loud moan escaping you as you come clinging onto his hair for dear life. Your thighs shake, threatening to close around his head at any moment as he continues to suckle your clit between his lips while pumping his fingers into you, letting you ride out your high for as long as he can.

Your chest heaves as you attempt to catch your breath, whole body twitching as he finally slows his movements over you. Your eyes flutter as he slips his fingers from you, sighing blissfully as you feel him kissing his way back up your body.

Breaching the surface once more, Yeosang immediately presses his lips to yours. Your legs automatically wrap themselves around his waist as he pushes you flush against the rocks, needing to feel every inch of your bare skin against his own.

“You’re so perfect when you come for me,” He breathes, cupping your cheek gingerly with his one hand.

You smile against his lips. “You make me this way.”

Yeosang hums, nuzzling his nose affectionately against your own. “Mine.”

A soft giggle fills the air as you peck his lips. “Yours.”

You can feel his free hand caressing over your side, his claws sending a pleasant shiver up your spine. A moment later, he reaches around to squeeze your ass, pressing himself firmly against your core. You can feel two very solid and almost identical weights settled against the skin of your thighs, the gold lining his scales shimmering beneath the water.

Looking down, you cannot help the hitch in your breath, nor the way your heart jumps excitedly inside of your chest.

“I hope you’re ready, Beloved,” he hums, leaning in to rest his forehead against your own. The head of each of his cocks brushes up against your core, beginning to press the slightest bit into you and beginning to stretch you open. “Because I’m about to fuck a baby into you.”

[tetzoro]

FORGIVE ME FATHER — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. sir crocodile !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : devious visions have haunted your dreams every night and chase off your sleep. it’s finally time you crack and beg your priest to save you.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader, innocent reader, corruption, coercion, virginity loss (reader), power play dynamic, minor alcohol consumption, sacrilegious themes, religious themes, fingering, praise, unprotected sex, creampie, crocodile is manipulative and perverted throughout it all — WC : 2.6k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : mind the tags ! i don’t know where this came from . if i forgot any tags please send me an ask and let me know ! enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

out of your house and into the darkness of night, you run towards the only place that’s ever brought you sanctuary. the wind whips against your face, a storm raging on – everything that should be a sign to stay indoors gets tossed aside as your mind floods with visions. the ones that haunt your dreams every night and leave you lying in a cold sweat, yearning for something you’ve never had.

not even the harsh sting of the cold water kicking up against your bare legs can break you away from your forbidden longing. narrowly dodging each puddle only to stumble like a fawn learning how to walk on a smooth sheet of ice.

the rain clings to your white nightgown, the coat you hastily threw on already soaked through as you see the glimmer of light in the distance – the lantern above the church door still burning despite it all. you just prayed he was still awake.

you burst through the doors in a frenzy of distressed momentum, eyes scanning the space as you see father crocodile standing by one of the altars, lighting his candles. the soft glow that kisses the air around him is the beacon of hope you had been searching for. his attention quickly turns towards you as a bolt of lightning strikes nearby, illuminating you in its sharp light.

you, the poor, shivering little thing that looked just as lost as the day you first came to him.

“father.” you rasp out, your hand pushing the door closed behind you before the wind takes it — slamming it shut, the noise dissolving into a boom of thunder. “father, please help me.”

“what is it, my child?” his voice was deep, somewhat slurred as he made his way over, towering over your presence — his height as otherworldly as ever.

“the visions, they came back.” you all but whimper, shame dousing you and making you colder than the rain that was seeping through your bones. “but i’m scared they’re getting worse.”

“i see.” always curt with his words, a glint of something all knowing twinkles in his deep purple eyes. the warm, welcoming palm of his hand rests on your frigid shoulder, thumb smoothing a circle over the sliver of exposed skin as your coat slides down. “let’s get you comfortable before we discuss what you’ve been seeing.”

with a small nod, he leads you toward the center of the church, an all too familiar place that already has your nerves calming down. but the fire that was still coursing through you was hotter than ever.

crocodile smoothly takes off your drenched coat, opting to remove the black coat he normally wears as well, prepping it to cover you. but his eyes trail over your figure before he does, the way your nightgown was almost transparent against your skin, pert nipples pushing against the fabric.

the moment his jacket wraps around your shoulders, your senses are invaded by his scent. something smokey, a deep musk wraps around you in a sinful delight that only fuels the fire deep in your gut.

slowly, crocodile eases you down on the pew in the front row, the harsh wood was as sturdy as ever — a welcomed feeling as you sit down. as you do, you hear something clink against the sea coming from the pocket of his coat. curiously, you reach down and feel something metallic, pulling it out as crocodile sits next to you – sturdy thighs brushing against yours.

“what’s this?” it barely fits in the palm of your hand, fingers not able to wrap around it. it jostles, liquid clearly residing in it.

“it’s alcohol.” he answers, hand wrapping around yours and the flask. “it’s often used as medicine to clean wounds. sometimes we must drink it in order to cleanse our bodies. would you like some?”

“is that what you’d advise?” you look up at him, eyes wide with a shaky hand, trembling under his intensity, foreign feelings swirling throughout you and drowning you under his gaze.

“it is.” he gently takes the flask out of your hand, twirling the top off. “open your mouth.”

you do as he says — you always do. a devotee that would never go against his counsel. hanging onto every word he says, everything he asks, without question. crocodile could barely hide the smug smirk that tried to crack through his stoic priest mask.

the liquid burns as it runs down your throat, trying to gulp it down quickly as more rushes down. you splutter in protest, the sensation filling your nostrils. swiftly, crocodile pulls back, tucking the flask away as his thumb reaches up to wipe the liquor that spilled down the side of your mouth.

“now,” your priest licks his thumb, savoring the taste for a moment. “tell me what happened.”

“oh,” you curl into yourself a bit, embarrassment prickling at your cheeks. “it was a dream, the kind you warned me about before.”

“you must give me every detail otherwise i will not be able to help you.” his voice is stern, eyes crinkling at the edges with a distant softness he’s started to show around you.

“you were the object of my dream, father. the things you were doing to me—“ you stop, looking away in utter shame. crocodile had been so good to you, teaching you how to expel sin from your body by being baptized in his office, teaching you ways to resist temptation by giving into it only a little — and only to him. admitting to this dream would mean you failed, his guidance going to waste.

“go on.” he pushes, heavy palm falling to your thigh and rubbing comforting circles against your still frigid skin.

“i was laying down and your —” your eyes flit to his lower section before you swallow down the rest of your shame along with the burn that lingered in your throat. “your cock was inside of me. but this time, it wasn’t in my mouth.”

“and where was it?” if at all possible, he grew closer, the faint scent of alcohol on his breath fanning over your face. “show me.”

“it was here.” your voice trembles, hand covering the one he had on your thigh and slowly moving it up towards your core, under your thin nightgown — to the place that was burning for him, the dream igniting it into flames that you didn’t know how to put out. “right here.”

“i see.” he nods, eyes glued to the spot between your legs. his knuckle runs along your underwear, your essence soaking through the fabric as he glides along, causing your body to shudder. “and how did you feel?”

“well i-“ your sentence is cut off by a startled moan, his finger moving under the fabric and pressing against your slick folds. everything felt so wet down there, a direct juxtaposition to the flames that licked at your core, edging you to some place you had only dreamed about.

“you?” his expression is almost bored, keeping a straight face as he presses his finger into you. you quickly grab his wrist, trying to hold it steady as he keeps going, fueling the wildfire that lied within your soul.

“feels good.” you manage to squeak out. “it felt good in my dream too.”

“did it?” he presses. so many questions, so little answers. the only thing on your mind was the pleasure building in your abdomen, the foreign feeling lulling you higher.

crocodiles ministrations were precise, laced with experience and forbidden knowledge that had you itching to learn more. it’s like he could read your mind, receiving a divine message from god himself as he gives you what you’ve been praying for.

“mhm.” you gasp as another finger slips into you, “you were teaching me things, things that i haven’t — ah — learned yet. things i’m not supposed to.”

“curious little thing, aren’t you?” crocodile practically purrs, the squelch of your cunt growing louder, combating the rain that still fell along the rooftop.

for just a moment, you let yourself get lost in it all. the way the storm persisted overhead, crocodiles deep and raspy voice curling around your ear. two fingers rubbing along your walls, stretching you in a fashion that you’ve never known, feeling a strange level of fullness, new sensations rippling along your body with each thrust of his fingers.

his pace never falters, languidly pushing his digits in and out as he watches you intently, the way your eyes periodically squeeze shut in pleasure, lips parted as you breathe out a sigh of his name.

“can you help me?” your other hand grips the edge of the pew, hips jutting toward his finger and chasing the steady rhythm he was feeding you. “please?”

“normally, i’d advise against following these visions. but since you’re with with me, one of god's most trusted disciples, we can find a suitable alternative.” he feeds you lies that are tainted with an ounce of truth, just enough to have you nod along as you writhe around in your spot, pleasure hazing your mind.

“whatever you think i should do i’ll — mmm — i’ll do it.” your words spill into moans and crocodile finds himself getting drunk off of them.

“these urges are normal, but only when you are wed.” he pushes as your hope diminishes.

“but i’m not married.” tears brim along your lash line, frustration boiling from hanging on an edge that led to the unknown and the fact that you had no husband to fall back on.

“i know, but i will fill in for your husbands place, god will allow me to help you.” he decides out loud, even though his mind had been made up the moment you walked through those doors. crocodiles digits quicken their thrusts, causing you to yelp out. “all you need to do is surrender.”

with that, a blinding light that must’ve been the heavens themself paint your vision. the blood rushing through your ears are merely the angels singing to you, a soft lullaby that helps you float back down to earth.

your body had never felt so relaxed, so pliant. crocodiles fingers slip from between your legs and into his mouth, cleaning up the essence that coated them with a satisfied groan. he lets you curl into him for a moment as he picks you up, bringing you over to the altar that stood proudly in the center of his sanctuary.

thunder booms overhead, hiding the normally distinct click of a man undoing his belt. crocodile’s movements are practiced, but hasty. you’re still coming down from your high when he tugs your underwear down your legs, pressing the tip of his cock against your folds.

“before we begin,” your priest drags you closer towards the edge, legs dangling off the stone. “i must warn you that it may hurt, but this is the harsh way you must repent for your sins. do you understand?”

“yes, father.” you nod, his cock twitching against your clit, a burst of euphoria jolting through your body. “please save me.”

just like in your dream, crocodile looms over you. rough hands prodding along your body as they trail down your side, tearing at your dress as they move. he grips your hips as he starts to slide in, splitting heaven and hell apart as he pushes forward.

the pain is more than you expected — especially compared to your dream, but you bare it. letting yourself repent for the sin.

it’s agonizing though, how slowly he goes, breaking you apart so he can pull you back together in god's will. fraying at the seams, you’re sure to lose your mind as everything feels red hot to the touch — the flames of hell licking along your back as you dance along the lines of purgatory, praying with all your might that crocodile will bring you back to the heights of heaven.

“father—“ you gasp as everything clicks into place, his cock nestling deep within you, the pain subsiding as he coos down at you, murmurs of praise flowing from his lips.

“relax,” he tucks his fingers under your chin, half lidded eyes set on you and you’ve never been more desperate for a kiss in your life. “i’m here to save you now.”

crocodile’s hips pull back before snapping back into place, nudging a spot deep inside of you as he fills you back up. the pressure inside of you already threatening to snap, undergoing a rebirth that molds you to him, for him – forever bound in a way that marriage could never touch. ruined for any other man that would try to lay with you, when your cunt would only fit the shape of his cock.

his normally slicked back hair was tumbling forward out of place as his pace quickened, slivers slipping in front of his face as his focus remained on where the two of you were joined.

you mewl out, back arching as the pain subsides and euphoria starts to settle in your body. but crocodiles quick to push your back flat against the altar, keeping you locked into place as he starts to pound into you.

it was overwhelming, your mind being cleared of every thought. every virtue flown out of your head as well as every sin. just a state of contented bliss that only your priest and god could bring you.

the answer to all your prayers.

“how does it feel?” crocodiles voice was raspier than ever, a dull growl that had you clenching around him. he grunted in return, grip tightening around you as your body jiggled in place.

“so, so good!” you cry out, droplets of devotion falling down your face, you’ve never felt so whole in your life, so completely full of happiness.

crocodile doesn’t say anything in return, just shutting his eyes, cock thrusting into you sporadically, letting himself get lost in the heavenly feel of your silken walls.

the thought of your purity now tainted by his hand sends him further into his frenzy, dreaming of all the ways he could have you now, all the ways you can bend to his will and fully turn you into his own little devotee.

his balls tighten as your body gives into itself, tightening around his cock and squeezing it as you cry out his name. not gods, his.

crocodile's hips stutter before he buries himself deep within you, filling you up with all of his cum.

for a moment it's silent. the storm outside had subsided, barely pattering along the roof now as the walls are filled with your heavy breathing, a dazed look in your eyes.

“now.” he pulls out slowly, watching his cum spill out of you and along the altar. you whimper at the loss which only lets more of it fall out. “thank me.”

“thank you father.” you prop yourself up on your elbows, an earnest look on your face. crocodile watches you carefully as he tucks his cock back into his pants. “thank you for helping me absolve my sins.”

“of course.” he nods as you shakily get up, finding your footing on the wooden flooring, his cum trailing down your thigh.

you looked a mess, crocodile thinks. your nightgown in tatters, tears streaking down your face, legs trembling. absolutely devoid of purity. the innocence ripped from you and resided limply in his victorious hand.

just as he wanted.

“what happens now?” you ask, a shy look resting on your face as you avert your gaze. he chuckles, picking up the coat he had given you earlier, the one that fell off your shoulders when he took you to the altar. he wraps it back around you, the candlelight creating a halo around his head.

“you’ve been plagued by these visions for quite some time. this will only help for a while.” he frowns and dread fills you, worried that you really won’t be saved. “but worry not, every night you will come to me and we will ensure they do not come back.”

“thank you, father.” you beam up at him, unadulterated trust and hope shining at him. a sick part wonders if he can break that too, but not yet. maybe not ever, he’s not sure.

the only thing he’s sure of is that you were his now and this was only the beginning.

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

[luimagines]

... Reader goes Fierce Deity for the boys-

REVERSE IT ON THEM-

Alright, I will!!

Masterlist

Immediate Reader, boys under the cut! ***

It was storm of arrows, raining down from the blackened skies- leaving nothing in their wake of destruction.

You ran, keeping your shield over your head.

You were covered in cuts and bruises. You were tired. Weak. Your group was scattered. Lightning struck across the clouds, illuminating the trees above you.

A pause.

A breath.

Another torrent of arrows that knock the shield from your grasp as you duck to hide yourself in the flora of the forest.

Arrows change to horns.

Their cacophony of sound threaten to blow your ears out if the thunder hadn't done so already.

You were frightened.

Where were the others? Where's Link?

Isn't there usually the sounds of battle at this point in time?

You kept running. Deciding to cut your loses and leave your shield in it's place, you wipe your face of the rain, opening your eyes to see into the dark ahead of you in an effort to look for safety.

Nothing.

You start running again.

There has to be something. There can't just be nothing but trees and rocks but with nothing to actually stop the onslaught of attacks. Another round of the horns, this time followed by thunderous horses.

They're getting closer.

Another lightning strike. Something white catches your attention in the distance. You run to it, thinking that perhaps it can lead you to wherever Link might have gotten off to.

You need his help.

Your heart sinks instead. You recognize the item. Time had told you that it was incredibly powerful and while he never put it on, he never let it out of his sight.

It almost pulses in your hands.

It's incredibly powerful. There's no way Time would have dropped it on purpose. Which means something else happened to him. Just like the other boys.

The horses and the grunts of the monster that ride them get ever closer to where you are. Desperate and curious, you put the mask on.

The world flashes in tandem with the lightning, blinding you temporarily with white light.

hello little one. everything will be alright now.

***

Wind

Wind was hiding in a hole in the ground. It was small but so was he. Something of his size had to have dug it before hang but he wasn't sure he knew what animal could have done it. He heard that foxes sometimes dug in the ground but then again so did some monsters. Whatever did it was no longer here though. They had to have fled earlier with the upcoming monstrosity that was the storm above him.

This storm was new and strange. He wasn't sure what to make of it. Of all the storm he was to face alone in the middle of the Great Sea he had never seen the sky as dark and as bleak as this.

He could barely see what the monsters were coming from.

Separated and concerned (not frightened), he wasn't sure what to do next. Wind got used to having people around to help him and this was way beyond what he was used to doing.

He wanted someone to help him.

The horns in the distance don't exactly inspire confidence and Wind covers his ears to shield himself from the blaring sound of it all.

He's shaking.

The horns sound a second time and they're much nearer than Wind would have thought they would be. His heart rate spikes and he begins to perspire despite being soaking wet from the rain.

A whimper leaves his mouth before he can stop it. It shocks him out of his own mental state.

What was he doing? Hiding in the ground?! He was no coward. He was a hero! He was the one that went out to fight and that wasn't going to change today!

Wind takes a deep breath and climbs out of the hole, struggling to get past the growing mud puddle he was sinking into. He grabs his sword, using it as leverage to get out and pulls with all his might.

Lightning strikes again, and in his panic, his footing slips and he cries out in shock.

The monsters hear him.

He knows it.

They start approaching him when a large cry of agony can be heard from just beyond the hole he was in.

Wind gets to his feet rather quickly given the circumstances and looks around. He a monster explode in the tree line and rushes to the scene.

Then he screams.

A massive blade, one he recognizes, nearly takes his head off. Ducking in time to avoid it, Wind rolls further into the mud and looks up in shock. The monster he had missed dies behind him in a instant.

You stand above him, proud and stoic and not at all the way he remembers you. Your name leaves his lips before he can stop it.

You look down to him and hurriedly pull him to his feet.

The rest is a blur. You're quickly checking him over for injuries and other causes for concern before you snap back into action and slaughter the monsters that had gotten closer in the time this all took place.

Wind tightens his grip on his sword and lets out a battle cry worth praising as he charges into the fight.

Answers will have to wait.

He has to face this head on. No more hiding.

Hyrule

Hyrule called on Thunder and let the magic spew from his fingertips. It angered the sky and heavens but he couldn't care less.

He can hear nothing over the sound he creates and the sound of his own pounding heart. He thinks he can taste blood.

Unsurprising.

He watches at the monsters fall around him, struggling to stand under the weight of the storm and his magic.

These creatures like those he had never seen before. He would have asked where they came from but there's no one around him to answer that question. He's just going to have to deal with the hoard on his own and with nothing but his wits about him.

Somewhere along the line he thinks he gets cut and inwardly curses. The monsters simultaneously pause and all snap their heads towards him.

Perfect. Just what he needed.

He tightens his grip on his sword and casts a large flame to send them all flying backwards thirty feet from him.

He's getting tired.

Hyrule rushes the monsters and cuts them all down while they try in vain to pat the flames off of their bodies.

A blade suddenly imbeds itself into his shoulder blade.

Shouting in pain, Hyrule falls to his knees and turns. He can't take it out and the smell of his blood only riles the monsters up more.

"Come on then!" He growls, conjuring up the last of his magic reserves. "Fight me!"

Thunder rolls off of his fingertips. The monsters spasm again. Many of them explode into a familiar cloud of purple smoke. But many does not mean all. The rest get up again and position their weapons in their hands.

An arcing white light knocks the monsters down to their knees and they explode on contact.

Hyrule pauses, feeling side smacked. Where did that come from?

You jump next to him, swinging your blade again to finish off the remaining monsters before they can recover from the previous attack.

You reek of power and magic. It's enough to make him recoil.

He tries to at least, but the blade in his shoulder makes it difficult to any moving at all.

Trying to come back to his senses take smore work than he thought imaginable at first. He's more tired than he gave himself credit for. Another scream is ripped out of his throat before he can stop it.

You had taken the blade out.

"sorry"

He shudders. You sound... wrong.

Hyrule gasps down his next few breaths, forcing himself to look up and see what you have become. Your hair is white and there's war paint on your face but the corners of his vision is turning dark.

Hyrule outwardly curses this time.

He can't stop it. He can't hold on.

His world goes black.

Legend

This was embarrassing.

Part of him was glad that there was no one else around to see what had happened to him.

It was dark and rainy and storming like the goddess were having a cat fight. And frankly, Legend was having none of it.

It would be a lot easier to state his displeasure if he wasn't stuck upside down... hanging from his ankle... and stuck in a tree.

Lightning streaks across the sky as the sounds of the damned scream throughout the forest around him. He has no idea where the others are and he hasn't been able to make out a single sign of life aside from the very things that want him dead.

He chokes on a bit of his hair that flies into his mouth as the wind picks up. He plucks it out and fights to get control of his tunic so he could properly see where he's stuck so he could get out.

He's not going to like the fall. He's at least twenty feet in the air and there's not exactly a soft padding waiting to cushion is fall once he's set free.

He hears the horns of the monsters to his left and struggles to pull himself up.

Strangely, they ride right under him, not bothering to look up to see his dangling form in the trees.

His hat smacks him in the face and in his reckless attempt to clear it from his face he accidentally knocks it off of his head.

It falls to the forest floor.

"Oh come on!" Legend growls and fights the air for a moment before he deflates.

His ankle hurts more now.

He tries to twist himself up and out to at least try to grab the branch that holding him hostage. What he doesn't see however, is the individual running below him, pausing to pick up his fallen hat in peaked interest.

They look up.

Within seconds, while Legend was distracted and no doubt using all the core strength he had to still not reach the branch, something cuts it and he finds himself falling. He yells in shock but he's caught and settled on the forest floor without much thought.

"safe."

"...Oh sweet merciful heavens." Legend's throat locks up when he sees you in front of him. "....What did you do?"

"we must hurry. the others will be in need of assistance." you pick him up again and begin to run.

Legend can do nothing but hold on for his life. He has half the mind to at least try to look at you and try to figure out what on earth that familiar mask had done to you, but maybe this was all a bad dream.

Maybe if he closes his eyes tight enough, he'll wake up and it'll be sunny and bright and he'd get to groan and be melodramatic about getting up and starting another day of seemingly pointless walking and joking with the people he was quickly considering family.

But that doesn't happen.

And you keep running.

And the nightmare doesn't stop.

And there's no song that'll stop this dream. He's already tried.

Warrior

Somehow he had managed to find himself in the middle of the the thick of it once more.

Part of him wants to blame his hubris. He knew better than to run off again but to do so without the protection and power of the Blade of Evil's Bane? You'd think he'd learn from the first time.

Then again, the others have proven to be of a similar mind frame as he, and yet, they're nowhere to be found.

He curses under his breath, beginning to lose steam. The torrential downpour had caused his scarf to weight him down significantly. The mud underneath his feet causes him to slide. But he wasn't known as the Hero just because he looked pretty and could hold the sword in his hand.

Warrior moves his body to account for the added momentum and strikes as many monsters as he can in one swing before gearing up for the next.

The monsters keep coming. He's never seen these kind before. It's almost like they blend into the shadows and dance amidst the whispers of the forests breath. Something pierces him between the shoulder blades.

A scream rips out of him. The arrow had plunged deep but it wasn't enough to knock him off of his feet.

Warrior curses no longer under his breath, but with a wild air of fury and indignation that it was enough to turn the air blue. An arc of light shatters the figments of the shadows before his very eyes, giving him but a brief moment of respite.

Another wave quickly approaches, but is silenced as quickly as the first. The bodies explode and crumble with little sound, which allows Warrior to take into the account the numerous injuries he's already received.

The arrow in his back is minor. The slash on his leg is beginning to scream at him but he's more concerned of the potential of broken ribs. Not that it's enough to take him out of the fight, but he was beginning to grow tired.

However, Warrior wasn't sure if it was the blood loss of simply the loss of steam. Which would have taken him out first, he presumes.

A familiar power crackles in the air. His vicinity goes eerily still as backup arrives.

Warrior pants aggressively, putting hand back on the hilt of his sword. "You promised me you wouldn't wear that acursed thing again!"

He turns and nearly swallows his tongue.

You stand there, tall and confident. 'you're injured."

"...No..." Warrior whispers. "...Where are the others?"

You stay silent, letting him fill in the blanks.

If anything, you step closer and closer. Warrior can only watch in blatant horror. Many questions sit on the tip of his tongue but none of them come out. Something in the air commands him to be still and be silent, and like any mortal man, he submits the forces above him.

You pull the arrow from his back.

Another scream rips through him before he can even register what happened.

"calm yourself. you will be alright." You gently sooth his hair away from his face. "we must keep going. come. you are injured. follow me." And... well... someone had to come save his sorry hide again. What else is there for him to do but to follow and pray that the others are alright?

Sky

Sky had taken refuge behind a large boulder as the storm raged on around him. He was out of breath and while the sword in his hand was ready, there was hardly anything he could do.

He panted and coughed, nearly keeling over in his attempt to catch his breath.

Thunder exploded from the heavens, showcasing the displeasures of the goddess above that had no doubt thrown him and his brothers in arms into some sort of endless abyss.

The forest didn't seem to have to an end.

And neither did the up coming monsters.

So far, he had managed to get away but there was another pressing issue. He had no idea where his group went.

They hadn't been together long before everything went south.

Did they even arrive together at all? Had they all seperated?

Sky can only remember walking through the portal and the beginning of this absolute tempest. Then the beasts came.

He pokes his head around the rock to check his surroundings. Clear. At least that's what he thinks.

Thunder cracks everything in twain once more and Sky gets enough courage from the briefly provided light to move away from his hiding spot.

He hears a battle cry like none other.

His hairs stick up on the back of his neck and goosebumps erupt all over his flesh. "By Hylia-"

He takes off running.

Sky inhales more water than he intends to, but that's not what has his attention. Coughing fit aside, he nearly drops Fi when he comes close to the scene.

That's nothing short of power.

The fighter spins and takes out countless monsters in a single swipe. Sky nearly ducks, feeing the power behind the blade despite his distance away from it.

Sky rushes closer, giving a testament to his title. The Hero of Courage.

He joins the battle with ease. The Master Sword is and always has been a formidable blade. The hoard stands no chance.

Once given a respite, Sky turns to the new person. Their dietic powers were nothing short of curious- by the three, have mercy.

Sky drops your name as a forbidden whisper and drops Fi in the same breath.

You stand tall but not proud. You're shaken to the core.

"there is still so many of them"

"I know." Sky finds himself whispering. You voice had boomed with all sorts of quiet intentions. Do you even recognize yourself right now?

"there is still so much to do."

Sky picks up Fi again and puts her properly in her sheath. "Then let's keep at it."

Four

Four pushed himself out of the puddle, gasping for breath as he choked on the mud. He was running and has fallen face first into what had to be one of the biggest puddles thus far. He counted hi lucky stars that it wasn't a sink hole, otherwise this would have been a whole other issue for him.

He wipes the muck from his face and forced himself to keep going.

"If it rains for any longer, this forest is going to be a marsh by the end of the day." He all but shouted into the turbulance.

Rolling thunder has answered in reply, almost knocking him off of his feet once more from the force of it alone.

Horns blared in the distance but Four didn't feel the need to stick around much longer to figure out what was causing the commotion. He was fine with just getting cover from the rain and getting out of the way until he could find his friends again.

However, it was dark enough that Four couldn't see that far in front of him. He wasn't even sure what the hour was.

Suddenly, he hears a cacophony of footsteps. Or at least, that's what he thinks. It sounds more like a raging herd.

Coming directly towards him.

Four groans loudly and picks a random direction to run in instead. He doesn't have the time nor the energy to pick a fight. Not in these conditions. He knows better than to try and hold them off.

That will have to be a battle for future him to decide (preferably when he is dry and full and not about to keel over from how tired he is of searching with no results to show for it).

He slips again.

"OH come on!"

"blacksmith."

Four feels himself be picked up from the back of his shirt and placed on his feet once more. He looks up and his jaw drops. "...What did you do?"

"i've been looking for everyone."

So has he, but he hasn't seen even the barest hint of anyone. Four gulps, attempting to wring out his hood with little success. It's a comfort gesture at this point. "Find anyone?"

"i found you"

Four presses his lips together in a thin line. That doesn't answer his question, but it tells him everything he needed to know. With a slight hiss, he brushes off the mud from his tunic rather haphazardly. "Well... it could mean that they're no where near this storm... Or those monsters."

You nod and stand up taller. Four hadn't even registered that you were nearly squatting just to talk to him. How much had that mask affected you?

"i've been fighting the monsters. there are many."

Four gulps. "No time like the present then, huh?"

You nod again and pick him up. Four is two seconds from telling you to back off before you start to move. His breath gets stuck in his throat as the trees begin to blur around him.

He holds on to you like a life line, suddenly understand why you put him on your shoulder instead of letting him walk by your side.

He's nervous to see what else is in store.

Time

Time was struggling to get out of the metal armor that weighed him down. He was running through the forest, sword strapped to his hip for a change as the storm raged around him.

He heard the horns, knew that he was losing precious time. Anxiety riddled his body as he tried to think of a solution. He hasn't heard anything from the boys in a while.

He's worried about them.

But he's of no use to anyone if he's caught by lightning while in this armor.

It fights him every step of the way.

He hears the sounds of battle occurring off in the distance and curses under his breath. How more useless can he get?

He eventually gets his armor off. He's sweaty and over heated by the end of it but the rain does a good job at cooling him off. It'll be a pain to fix his armor if he leaves it here later but he has no other choice.

Suddenly a wide arc of light sweeps through the area, illuminating the forest for a split. The cries of the slaughtered monsters follow suit quickly- choking on their own fluids as they cease to exist within seconds.

Time feels his stomach drop to his feet. He recognizes that power.

"No..." He gets up and runs, taking up the sword that would be the easiest to handle as he races through the mud. "No, no, no..."

Another beam of light silences the remaining monsters.

Time stops dead in his tracks. He sees you from behind. Tall- imposing. Your hair grew longer- changing the colors to match that of the god who's power you currently wield.

You turn to him and relax.

Time didn't think the deity could ever look so relived, even if the mask is borrowing your face.

You must have been terrified. The Fierce Deity must have been extra gentle with you to allow your emotions to show on the otherwise stoic nature of the mask.

Time shakes his head clear of the shock and run to you, wiping his free hand over his face to clear it of the water. "You're ok."

You kneel, getting to his level and gently, very gently run your hand over his hair. "where are the others?"

Time can only shake his head.

You continue to look distraught at the lack of answers his provides. "then we go find them."

Twilight

Wolfie was faring non to better with the storm.. He shook his pelt again, desperate to release the constantly growing water weight.

Feeling lighter once more, he takes off in a run, disheartened from the lack of scents he was picking up. He could most certainly smell the rain and the fauna that naturally called these forests home but not a lick of those he was looking for.

He can hear the rolling gallops of approaching horses so he gathers that the enemy is gaining speed. Twilight can only hope that no one is caught in the cross hairs.

Deciding that the wolf was currently of no help to anyone, he shifts back and quickly takes out his bow. Epona is no where to be found but Twilight trusts in his girl's instincts. She'll be safe.

His current idea, however, would be easier to do if he had her at his disposal. Otherwise this might as well be a suicide mission.

Twilight takes to running once more, this time, towards the sound of running horses. Once he thinks he gain enough distance, he climbs up the nearest tree, no thinking of the currently lighting or the storm.

He takes out his eagle mask and positions his weapon.

He sees them.

He takes the shot.

Again.

And again.

The monsters shout in agony, exploding from their injuries once they hit the forest floor. The galloping horses trample their remains with ease.

Twilight aims to take as many of them out as he can while trying his best to not be spotted.

Suddenly, a fighter collides into the massive hoard of monsters. Startling the horses, the monsters were flung off and trample even further. In the flurry of movements, Twilight struggles to see what's happening.

The numbers against them scatter quickly.

Eager to help and to get to know this mysterious being, Twilight climbs down and charges towards the fight, taking down the remaining ones that had been missed by the horses' hooves.

"rancher."

His whole body freezes.

That was a voice of power, yet one that he knew all too well.

You're there, wear the mask of the Fierce Deity no doubt. Twilight drops his sword in shock. You walk towards him, putting a hand on his shoulder as you look him over.

His mouth goes dry as his heart races in his rib cage. "...I couldn't find anyone."

You hum, but it's more profound. Not manly, just... powerful in a way his mortal brain struggles to comprehend. "i've been looking. there have been many monsters."

"I believe you." Twilight reaches to squeeze you hand, wanting to you that you're real. That this is real.

"come." You say, opening your palm to him. "we will find the others."

Twilight nods, putting his bow away at last. "I'm with you. Lead the way."

Wild

This was bad.

"It was my pleasure."

But at least now it hurt less.

Wild pushed himself out of the way before horse hooves can come down on his head. Somewhere in the distance he can hear fighting. There's someone who's out there alone in the storm and holding their own. Which is more than he could currently say.

He groans and holds a hand over a wound that has since healed.

His sword hasn't broken yet but he can tell that it doesn't have much life left in it to give.

Wild slashes the beasts anyway.

His sword breaks right after.

Choking on a curse, he rolls out of the way again and takes off running.

They gain up to him quickly. There was no contest.

A pissed off horse comes to his rescue, body slamming her frame in to the approaching threats. They scatter and give them both a bit of breathing room before making a come back.

Wild takes the opening as it is and gets on Epona's back. "Come on girl. We have to go. We have to get to the others."

While he is not her rider, Epona takes to the task at hands and runs to lead them both to safer ground.

The monsters give chase once more but Wild wasn't going to let them have their way with them so easily. Trusting Epona to steer herself, Wild takes out his bow and begins to fire at will.

A large blur of white and teal, rushes by their side, startling Epona and getting her to hitch up legs in self-defense. It's unnecessary but the action nearly throws Wild off of her back.

The blur all but bulldozes its opponents down and sends their remains scattering like bombs that had no chance of having their fuses snuffed out.

Wild focuses on calming Epona down before he ends up underneath a third set of hooves this day. His attention is split between the horse and the fighter who's taken on the hoard like (for a lack of better words) a champion.

The simile is a bitter pill in his mind.

Epona stays put after she calms down and the monsters have been dealt with. Cautiously, he urges her towards the figure as it catches its breath.

Wild's hitches.

Without thinking of the ramifications, Wild throws himself off of Epona and takes of running, you name on the tip of his tongue before he screams.

You had heard his footsteps coming toward you but didn't register that it was him.

Your blade ends up by his throat.

"champion... you are weakened..."

Wild falls backwards. The water from the rain loosened his footwork but at least your blade is no longer at his neck.

"are you in need of potions?"

Wild shudder and shakes his head. What happened to you?

You nod and pick him up without question. You whistle a familiar tune at the same time and Epona comes closer even though she is also untrusting of this new development.

"to safety then." You begin to walk away.

"Wait-!" Wild struggles in your hold. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

"be still hero. it will all be over soon."

[mur4sak1]

How would genshin man help you if you were afraid of thunder on a stormy night?

A/N: Remember that English is not my first language so I hope I wrote in the best way <3

Situation: That evening, night had fallen very quickly on Teyvat. The approaching storm seemed to have hastened the twilight, and soon the sky was filled with thick, dark, ever-moving clouds. The wind began to whisper through the trees, with a delicacy that hinted at the strength it would soon unleash. The rain began to fall slowly, like a musical prelude, a symphony that accompanied the arrival of night. The flashes illuminated the sky with a sudden silvery light, revealing for a moment the wild beauty of nature. Each flash was followed by a distant murmur, a thunder that was heard like an ancient song of the earth, when then, suddenly, a thunder louder than the others pierced the silence, causing an explosion that made you jump. Your heart began to beat faster, and in that moment of disorientation, you instinctively sought the comfort of someone you knew could calm your fears.

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Wriothesley, Itto,

Zhongli= You were in Liyue Harbor, but the landscape was shrouded in a terrible storm. The sky above the port was a sea of dark clouds, crossed by lightning that fleetingly illuminated the imposing mountains and the traditional roofs of the houses. The port itself was a chaos of fury and movement: the waves, high and tumultuous, crashed violently against the piers, raising spray that mixed with the impetuous wind. The boats, at the mercy of this stormy sea, swayed frantically, like toys in the waves. The entire sea seemed like a vortex of energy and anger, dragging everything in its path into its unstoppable turmoil. Then, suddenly, a thunderclap split the sky, its roar so powerful it seemed to penetrate your bones. The deafening noise jolted you out of your dream, causing you to snap awake. The chaos of the storm, which seemed so real and immediate in your dream, faded into the darkness of your room, replaced by the din of the storm outside that now enveloped you in the real world. Freed from your blankets, you turned to the side of the bed and saw Zhongli standing by the window watching the storm. "Everything OK?" He asked you. “Yes, I was just scared by the thunder, sorry if I disturbed you.” Zhongli shook his head with a gentle smile and motioned for you to come closer. “You don't have to apologize,” he said, placing a warm, reassuring hand on your shoulder, moving the hair covering it. “It's natural to be scared of the storm. Even the loudest noise can make us feel small and vulnerable.” He looked out the window, observing the stormy clouds with a peaceful gaze. “You know, storms always have an end,” he added in a calm tone. “Even when they seem so intense and scary, they're just a moment that will pass. And in the meantime, it's normal to feel a little overwhelmed." As he spoke, lightning lit up the sky, followed by thunder that rumbled through the room. You jumped slightly, but Zhongli tightened his grip on your shoulder, reassuring you with his calm presence. “You don't have to face the storm alone,” he said. “We can just stay here, together, and listen to the rain.” With a quiet gesture, Zhongli pointed out two particularly dark clouds to you. “Watch,” he said, as a blue flash promptly split the sky, illuminating the dark night. “This is how the accumulated energy finds its way out, with a little eye you will also be able to understand where they will form, and in that moment you will understand that you have nothing to fear.” You felt reassured by his words and his calm way of dealing with the situation. Even though the thunder continued to shake the night, Zhongli's presence by your side made the storm less scary. In that moment, you understood that you didn't always have to be brave alone; sometimes, having someone to share your fears with made everything more tolerable.

Diluc=When you woke with a start, a sense of dread enveloped you. The storm continued to rage outside the window and the roar was amplified by the lightning that pierced the darkness. Instinctively you turned towards the other side of the bed in search of your companion, but instead of his figure you only found a pillow and the blanket as if it had been redone. Panic washed over you as you tried to figure out where he had gone. You quickly got out of bed, your heart pounding in your chest. You immediately ran towards the door of the room, desperately searching for his presence and when you opened it, you glimpsed a warm light coming from the study. You breathed a sigh of relief and with your heart still beating wildly, you took a few small steps to grab the handle. As soon as he saw you, Diluc looked up. His eyes softened and his worried expression turned into a small grimace of understanding. With a small smile, he noticed your disheveled hair and couldn't help but chuckle slightly. "Did the storm scare you?" he asked in a sweet tone, trying to understand your mood. At your affirmative nod, Diluc stood up from his chair and gently took your hand. Without saying a word, he guided you towards the small kitchen. He grabbed a warm blanket from a nearby chair and placed it gently over your shoulders. He sat you down at a wooden table and began making hot tea, the scent of herbs filling the air. Diluc moved calmly and precisely, concentrating on his gestures. The water boiled on the stove while he took two cups and poured the tea. Without saying anything, he handed one to you, his fingers brushing over yours in a reassuring touch. You snuggled closer into the blanket, sipping the hot herbal tea and watching the storm rage outside the window as your man sat next to you. After a while, Diluc looked at you with a small smile and asked in a quiet voice, “Is it good?” You nodded and thanked him, the warmth of his gesture more than enough to make you feel safe. Diluc smiled back at you, happy to know that his simple gesture was enough to comfort you.

Kaeya=When you woke up, you found yourself immersed in a storm you hadn't anticipated. Although you had noticed the dark clouds and strong winds during the day, you had not expected such a violent storm. Thunder roared and lightning pierced the darkness of the night, flooding the room with intermittent flashes. You turned to your man in panic and discovered, without too many surprises, that he too had been awakened by the roar of the night due to his light sleep. "What happens?" Kaeya asked, sleepily rubbing one eye. When you told him that it was the thunder that scared you, he couldn't help but chuckle and an amused smile formed on his face. It was too much, how could he laugh while you were so fragile for a moment? He didn't even give you time to answer him in kind before with a quick movement, he hugged you tightly, burying your face in his neck; his enveloping warmth and presence infused you with immediate peace. “Stop worrying, beautiful,” he said in a reassuring tone, “you're safe with me.” As you snuggled into him, you couldn't help but think how little other people knew about this side of the captain. His usual air of mystery and charming demeanor hid a sweetness and tenderness that only you were privileged to see. At that moment, you felt that you were the only one who had access to this intimate corner of his heart. And yet, even in such a situation, Kaeya couldn't miss out on some provocation. With a playful smile, he added, “And don't worry, it's not like the thunder can come in here to get us.” His joke made you smile, but the security of his embrace was so enveloping that you didn't pay too much attention to it, letting yourself be lulled by the regular rhythm of his breathing and the tranquility he exuded.

Wriothesley (warning: fear of aggression that didn't happen) = When a sudden scream pierced the night, Wriothesley sprang to his feet without hesitation. He was focused on a job for the managing of the fortress, but the sound of your voice full of terror, made him immediately abandon everything. The document he was reading was abandoned on the desk and the pen fell, hitting the floor hard as he rushed towards the shared room, his heart pounding with worry that someone had broken in to attack you. As soon as he opened the door with a decisive movement, he found you curled up in bed, trembling and with a face marked by panic. Loud thunder rumbled outside, making the walls vibrate, and he immediately knew what had scared you. In an instant, Wriothesley was beside you, sitting on the bed and enveloping you in a protective hug. “Hey, it's okay,” he whispered in a soothing voice, his arms holding you tight, trying to make you feel safe. “I'm here, there's nothing to be afraid of. It's just a storm, it will pass soon.” The warmth of his body and the security of his hold began to slow your heartbeat. His hand, strong and reassuring, moved through your hair, while the other held you close to him with a determination that spoke more than a thousand words. The fear that had overwhelmed you slowly faded, replaced by the profound feeling that, with Wriothesley by your side, no storm, real or figurative, could touch you. In that moment, while the world outside continued to rage, you realized that next to him, you were truly safe from any danger, because you know he would do anything for you.

Itto=The storm raged with full force. Thunder rumbled and lightning illuminated the room with a ghostly glow. Sitting on the couch, you clutched your pillow, trying to control the racing of your heart with each burst of noise. Itto, next to you, seemed unfazed by the chaos outside. When he noticed your scared reaction, his face lit up with a smile that mixed determination and amusement. “Don't worry,” Itto said, pausing dramatically as the sound of thunder filled the room. “This storm is trying to test us, as if it wants to challenge us to see who is more powerful!” Your shocked gaze met with his accomplice, then he continued, “And you know what? I accept the challenge. With every thunder we hear, we prove that we can be stronger, more courageous. We must show that nothing can scare us!”. Itto's tone was playful but true, as if he was facing the storm in some kind of friendly competition. He got up from the sofa and, with a theatrical gesture, pretended to prepare for a great battle against the noise of the storm. “Every thunder you hear is like a blow from the storm,” he explained. “But we respond with our courage and our smile. This is how we win this challenge!” When more thunder roared, Itto raised his arms and, with a playful cry, began counting down to an imaginary "counterattack." His exaggerated behavior and enthusiasm made you laugh, and slowly the fear began to fade. “Imagine that we are gladiators of the storm,” Itto said with a smile, “and every noise we make is our response to the challenge of the sky!” His ability to turn the storm into a kind of playful challenge and his encouraging attitude helped you see the situation in a different light. The initial fear faded and the outside noise became mere background to your little competition against the storm. "You see?" Itto said, lowering his arms with a triumphant smile. “We have shown that we can face anything with a little spirit and courage. This storm can make all the noise it wants, but we are stronger!”

[crystaleclipse10]

A look into the Ninja's powers

Welcome to my analysis of the powers of each of the 6 main Ninja. How each power feels and its source for each Elemental Master, and how it reflects in their personalities. This has headcanons and canon explanation. Hopefully it all makes sense

Cole: Cole’s power comes from deep within the ground. He can feel the power of the earth in his guts, strong and steady. It’s grounding. It’s constant. The earth is always somewhere below him. No matter where he is, somewhere there’s earth—whether it’s deep within a mountain, everywhere; or leagues under the sea; or so far beneath the sky it is practically invisible—it will never not be there. It’s reliable. Yet it takes different forms: dirt, rocks, magma, sand; it’s all part of the ground, versatile. It’s protective; it encases and preserves ancient ruins and fossils, it gives shelter to those seeking refuge. It connects all living things—it reaches every part of the world. It cannot be forced to move, but it can be guided. It is the foundation of everything.

“You've never been farther underground. Never been more surrounded by the very thing that powers you. The Skull Sorcerer thought he was burying you, but what if he was actually bringing you closer to the earth? To the source of your elemental power?” “So what do I do? Try to connect with the earth?” “Perhaps. Or perhaps you just have to stop worrying so much and let the earth connect with you.”

Zane: Zane can sense his ice powers in his mind. It can exist in the coldest of climates, and when it melts, turns into something just as powerful; it is not wasted. It carves its way through anything—glaciers. The rivers of ice creep forward slowly but surely, taking everything in its path. It’s steady and cold, but its bite can be unrelenting. Frostbite, hypothermia—just as cold as ice is. And icicles, especially when shot as a projectile, are like daggers; sharp and dangerous. But it can numb pain. It tames something burning hot into something pleasantly warm. It is hard and strong, but it can crack—and if that happens, it can be made whole again with a little time. It is reliable and quiet. It can create a protective barrier. It’s there when it needs to be.

“This isn’t about numbers…it’s about family.” “He’s protecting us.” “I am a Nindroid, and Ninja never quit. Go Ninja, go!”

Jay: Lightning. He can feel it buzzing on his skin and nerves, able to be condensed and controlled. Pure energy, electricity. It’s volatile and dangerous. But it can be essential to life. It’s everywhere—thunderstorms, static, neurons firing in the brain. If it wasn’t for electricity, the brain would cease to function and life couldn’t exist. It’s quick—blink and it’s gone, just a thread of light that comes and goes. But its impact is remembered. A thunderous boom, a scar of soot, sometimes even a blaze set in its wake. Its glow is practically too bright to look at; a source of light for even the darkest of caves. Just one spark can start a fire or illuminate a building. It’s a source of power—for vehicles, technology, buildings. Even though it is not always visible, lightning and electricity are all around, ready to be called upon.

“Control the power inside you. When you feel a surge welling up, harness it.”

Kai: Kai’s power over fire comes from the breath—air is fuel for fire, and controlled breathing can control the blaze. It is not a matter of force—though hot anger can stoke fire—but harnessing the buzzing potential in the air. Fire can be destructive; a wildfire is chaotic, unyielding, and intense, burning everything in its path. But it can be life-giving, too. It’s cozy. It provides warmth on the coldest of nights. It can cook food, boil water, ward off frost. It is the essence of the sun—the largest blaze that allows life to exist. It burns with passion and ferocity, but if it loses strength, there will always be an ember remaining. Almost nothing can beat back a big, hot fire. It can be a weapon or a defense; it hurts to touch, and no one without immunity would dare go near. Without fire, life could not be sustained.

“I just wish I still had my powers. I was Master of Fire. I could've made a new fire like—like...like this.” “Oh, do not worry, Kai. Elemental Power comes from within, like courage. Sometimes it wanes, sometimes it waxes, but it cannot be stolen.”

Nya: The power of water flows through her veins. Water is ever-changing and powerful. Even the strongest rocks erode under the power of water. It’s relentless. It can defeat ghosts because it is always changing and shifting, while ghosts are stuck trying to be one thing and refuse to change. It cleanses and heals. The first thing to do for something dirty is to wash it with water. And it’s part of blood, something vital for people to live. It’s restless. The ocean never stays still; it does not like to be contained. The tides are as constant as they are powerful. The entire ocean moves with the tides; the constant in and out of so much water shapes the coasts. Rivers bend and flow around obstacles; no matter what is in the way, it will eventually reach the ocean—the largest body of water filled with plants and animals. Water supports life and creates ecosystems. It’s the heart of the wild.

“Jay, the ocean's good for much more than food. As we go deeper, I can feel its elemental power growing. It's almost overwhelming.”

Lloyd: Perhaps the most vague but also the most powerful element is Lloyd’s. Is it Power? Creation? Energy? Life? Lloyd is connected to the Source Dragon of Life, not Energy. Whatever the case, it comes from his heart. If it is Life, that is where it is strongest—the beating of a heart shows life in a living being; it is impossible to live without a heart. It’s everywhere—inside Lloyd, in his comrades, his students, his masters, nature around him. His love for the world is his true self and makes his heart powerful. His goodness gives him strength. His drive to save the world fuels his passion. Life is inside of him, but it can also be taken away. It can heal, but also hurt. When it is taken away, overused, or corrupted, it leaves him weakened and sick. But it can save his life in a fight—and it has. It is a combination of the core elements of Creation: Lightning, Ice, Fire, and Earth—LIFE (thank you @secretlyharumi for helping me realize this!). They can be utilized individually, but also combined into something potent and beautiful. Without life, nothing would exist. It is the thread of the universe, stitching together things similar and different; big and small.

“I’m already the Golden Ninja. How much more power do I need?” “You’ve only scratched the surface! You have the potential to move mountains. Power of the First Spinjitzu Master!”

I like the idea the Ninja's personalities and powers are mixed

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk

[starryficsfinishwen]

enamoured — jiyan x reader [SLIGHT NSFW WARNING]

Rain falls ever so gentle outside your window.

The heat of the fireplace seeping into the room, the rainy breeze knocking on wood. The wind chime plays a low melody. Two warm cups now sat forgotten on the table. But only lingering breaths fill the empty space.

The morning light hindered by clouded skies that illuminates the room shines on his exposed shoulders. Golden eyes glimmer brightly in this darkness that makes your heart skip a beat. Breathing in his smell, the smell of snow and summer seas. Your fingers find themselves entangled in gloveless ones.

“Rover,” The general's voice was normally rough, full of diction and dominance. But now, he calls you in the softest tone, one you could mistake for the patter of the rain outside. “[Y/N].”

“General Jiyan,” you answer, stifling a sigh, “...does it bother you?”

Does it bother you, indeed? Your tangled legs on the sofa, seeking refuge in the cold by sitting on his lap. Does it bother you, when your hands are held together so intimately that you feel every brush of his index on your thumb, your throat aching?

“I would much rather ask you that,” he coughs, golden eyes looking away from yours, “it was my idea in the first place.”

How did this happen again? Maybe it doesn't matter at this point—no, not when Jiyan's free hand wanders onto the expanse of your covered waist, thimble ears picking up the sound of Jiyan's short sigh.

“Are you cold still?” He asks, tapping on your hand.

The cold weather pales at your usual dark outfit. You were already wrapped around a blanket you found on the couch (it was long enough to cover Jiyan's legs as you sat on his lap), and while under the general's watchful gaze, there was enough heat.

You lightly shook your head. “I'm okay. What about you?”

“I'm alright. I am worried about you.”

Outside, the cackle of the thunder roars. It makes your body shiver, fingers slightly curling to ignore the fear in your bones. But Jiyan recognizes it, the hand on your waist now touching the small of your back.

“The rain will stop soon,” he mutters, “Worry not, the thunder won't harm you.”

Looking back at Jiyan, you notice that his cheek is dusted pink. Oh, you wonder if it was from the cold. “...are you the one who is cold, General?”

“Nonsense.” He huffs, “I have long braved the cold. It doesn't bother me anymore.”

“Then why are your cheeks flushed? And so is your ear?”

You let his hand go in favor of touching his reddening, warm ears. The general groans as you touch the earlobes, before tracing the curve of his ears.

“Rover,” he warns, “Please don't. Yes, I may not feel cold, but this is a normal reaction-”

Jiyan freezes. When after tracing his ears, your hands now find themselves cupping his red cheeks. You breathe in his smell, one you became familiar with after so long.

“Generak Jiyan, your cheeks feel awfully thin. Have you been eating lately?”

With a gentle squeeze, you laugh as Jiyan narrows his eyes at you. His hands now find themselves at your waist, but you still laugh at the way he mimics your squeezes on his cheeks to yours.

“You should cook better, then,” he rolls his eyes before rubbing with his thumb, “I can't afford eating too many vegetables all the time.”

Gasping, you said, “I gave you a balanced diet. Just say that you don't like the fish I prepared.”

“I like everything you prepare for me...my men.” He smiles, “...I just don't like the way you prepare extra attention to them.”

“I do not.”

“You do. Take Xian for example.”

“He is a friend.”

“Still. I get jealous easily.”

It was your turn to huff instead. “You, the Great General of Jinzhou? Jealous?”

A flash of lightning is visible from the window. “I do. I don't like the way other people could like you the way I do.”

The rain outside keeps pouring, but it doesn't deafen the throbbing heartbeat in your chest. For a long while, your eyes always looked differently, a dense fog clouding your vision. You've long treated the people around you like a friend, never blurring the thin line of respect and recognition of each of your roles. Yet now, when the fog in your eyes clears, only then do you recognize gold eyes looking at you.

It only hits you: how intimate your position is with General Jiyan.

“Ah...” the words die in your throat, and you recognize how it aches once more.

For a spare moment, you wonder when it happened? When did the thin line of roles blur? When did you feel so comfortable touching the highly regarded General of Jinzhou, that it felt like you were only with a lover?

But the General seems to notice your hesitation. Slowly pulling away as he turns from you, he said, “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to impose my feelings on you.”

“No, wait.”

You don't pull away, instead you lean closer. In the dark, your hands brush his cheek. They cup his jaw, and it's warm. His hands slip down to your hips, and it's warm. You like it. You want it. You need his hands on you. Damned be the line of respect and responsibility.

When the gentle rain slows on your window, you opt to ask, “...Do your men normally have to experience something like this with the general whenever it rains?”

Jiyan subtly laughs. “No, my men are as resilient as the walls in Jinzhou. We take care of ourselves, but never this way.”

His hands tug you closer, the warm blanket on your head now slipped down to your draped legs. Your hands tangle themselves on his turquoise hair, eager eyes looking back at warm, golden ones.

And Jiyan whispers, “...you are the first I could hold like this.”

You notice his eyes flicker to look at your lips, then back to your eyes. You, too, do the same. Inching a little closer, you could smell him better—summer seas and petrichor. You breathe him in.

“General Jiyan...will you let me kiss you?”

Hesitant, you are. But you don't tremble when Jiyan closes the gap in between you two. Like a deer in the headlights, you let yourself crash onto the lights. His lips are warm, soft, supple—akin to the softest feathers on your back, and he doesn't even hesitate. You crumble onto the gap, your body perfectly molding like jigsaw puzzles in his, hands wanting to grasp onto another.

Jiyan kisses you, and kisses, and kisses you—even until you've run out of breath. He parts so slowly, but never too much, lips still touching yours.

“Rover,” he mutters on your lips, “[Y/N], I adore you. I am far too enamoured by you.”

In the dim light of the room, two breaths mingled against each other. You feel his hands snake to the supple of your hips, and you could shake from his warmth alone.

You need him. His warmth, his smile, his lips—the first taste of freedom, the taste of the summer rain that makes you hungry for more.

“General Jiyan,” you press your lips harder to his, his back now on the armrest of the chair, “I...like you, too. I need you.”

Enamoured. Wanting. Needed. Desire. To devour it.

And in this haze you find bright golden eyes.

“Rover, I hope you stay true to your words.”

would u believe me if i wrote this waking up in cold sweat because i dreamt of jiyan touching us like this,,in a cute lil jumper,,,

the rain is perfect as i write this,,,im too,,,down bad,,,for him,,, (come back pls i am screaming i need him)

— starry

[bloodhoundluke]

drunken smiles & fishnet stockings

pairing: luke hemmings x fem! reader

description: it's halloween and luke is hosting a party! luke and y/n know each other, but little do they know that this night would change something pivotal between the duo.

warnings: 🔞 MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. sex talk, smut, protected p in v, alcohol consumption, cursing, fluff, an embarrassing amount of pet names. (i don't think there’s anything else??).

word count: 5,8k-ish. a/n: hey there friends! 🌟 i wanted to publish this fic before publishing requested & other fics, i'm working on all of them so pls be patient! and this is my first fic which contains smut so there's a huge chance this sucks (i'm actually nervous to release this pls help me i'm scared lol) 😬 also, i have a lot of deadlines atm so pls bare with me, i am working on the requests whenever i can. thank you for supporting my blog, i adore you all so much 🤍 happy late halloween to everyone who celebrated 🎃

dividers by @silkholland.

"Y/N!", you heard your best friend yell from the other side of your studio apartment. You had been getting ready for nearly two hours, and to one one’s surprise, you and your best friend were already late. Calum had been texting you for a while now, telling you two to hurry up. 

"What?"

"We are so late! We need to get going! Oh my god, this is so embarrassing", your best friend sighed and now stood next to you. You were still fixing your hair in front of a full body mirror.

"Okay okay, stop fussing. Do I look okay?", you asked them and placed the curling iron on top of your drawer, shutting it off. You reached for the hairspray sitting on the drawer, and looked over at your friend who looked absolutely stunning. 

"Yes, you look amazing Y/N. If I wasn't your friend I'd totally hook up with you", your friend cheered and nudged your shoulder gently. 

"Gosh, thanks. I'd totally hook up with you too", you giggled and took a glimpse of their police costume. You ruffled your hair slightly and placed some hairspray on your locks to hold them in place.

You locked your hands with your friend’s, and got into the cab that was waiting outside. 

You had been invited to your friend Luke's Halloween party. You had met him a few years prior through your mutual friend Calum, who was also his bandmate and one of his best friends. Calum and you had known for four years or so, and you considered him to be one of your closest friends. You considered yourself lucky to have a friend like him, since you could tell him anything and you knew he wouldn’t judge you.

You looked through the cab window with the city lights passing by. You wondered who’d be at the party. Luke must have sent invitations for hundreds of people, since he was a pretty popular guy. You found the guy and his shy-ish exterior rather charming, but only in a platonic way. Luke and you weren’t extremely close, but you exchanged text messages every now and then. 

You arrived at the party and looked at the sea of people, who were mingling with each other in their Halloween costumes. Luke’s house was decorated in decorative spider web, pumpkins, and some skeleton figures. Purple lightning illuminated the whole house. You liked the decorations, it wasn’t too much or too little.

You and your best friend decided to go and say hello to Calum and his group of people. Calum hugged you tightly and commented on how he hadn’t seen you in ages. His girlfriend, Brandy, did the same. They were wearing a matching set of vampire costumes. You were happy for Calum, he had finally found a girl who loved him just the way he was.

You walked over to Ashton, Michael, Crystal and Luke. Ashton was dressed in a cowboy costume, which made you smile a bit since he practically dressed like one in real life. He brought you into a bear hug and you couldn't help but smile. Ashton always made you feel so welcomed. Michael and Crystal goofed around in their Anime costumes. You catched up with them and then finally noticed something familiar about Luke’s costume. It was a Harry Potter costume.

No fucking way.

"Cool costume", Luke commented as he saw you eyeing his Gryffindor badge, and the lightning bolt on his forehead. His hair had grown out a bit, but it didn't look bad. Actually, it looked anything else than bad. That man could definitely pull off any hairstyle, you were sure of it.

"Thanks! You too. Suits you", you stated and straightened your own Gryffindor badge on your costume. Dressing as Ginny Weasley, or what you called it low-budget Ginny since you had no cape, was a decision you had made a few days ago. You were supposed to dress as a Pumpkin, but you managed to break the costume and didn’t have the time to fix it. So the second best option was Ginny.

You sighed and looked around the room, thinking of grabbing a drink.

“Oh my gosh! We need to take a picture of you two”, your best friend suddenly exclaimed and you giggled, nervousness plastered all across your face. You saw them giving you the look, and knew instantly what it meant. They believed in fate, what you on the other hand called nonsense. You were sure Luke and you dressing in similar costumes was some sort of sign of “fate” to your best friend. Luke and you could never happen. 

“Really?”, you giggled as you felt a knot in your stomach. Luke was sometimes difficult to read, and you weren’t entirely sure if he would conform to the idea.

“Yes!”, your best friend commented, and ‘totally’ and ‘absolutely’ from Michael, Crystal, Calum, Brandy and Ashton followed after. You and Luke both looked at each of them, then finally looked at each other. Your friends would never let it go, so you’d better just get it out of the way.

“Okay”, you accepted your defeat. “You okay with that?”, you confirmed Luke. “Yeah, sure, why not?”, he took a sip of his beer and placed the bottle on the counter, giving you a small smile. 

You, Luke and your best friend found a spot in Luke’s house and you settled in with Luke against the white wall, as your best friend was holding their phone towards you two. Luke placed his other hand on your lower back, and you placed yours on his stomach. 

“This okay?”, you looked up to him and shuffled a little closer to the man. You saw him eyeing your legs, which were covered in fishnet stockings. His oceanic blue eyes met yours, and you did your best not to drown in them. You hadn’t even chugged down one drink, and you were already a fool for some man. And worst of all, it was your friend. You blamed this growing lust for him on the Halloween spirit. Surely someone had once said that Halloween brings out feelings you don’t usually feel.

“Uh..yeah, sure”, he cleared his throat and chuckled. “You ready?”, he offered you a little smile.

“S-sure”, you returned the smile and you both stared directly at the camera.

“And say….cheese!”, your best friend cheered.

You took an awkward glimpse in Luke’s direction and both of you bursted out laughing. The photos shown afterwards were pretty cute, you had to admit that. And Luke’s hand on your lower back left you yearning for more of his touch.

Damn, you really needed a drink. And to forget Luke fucking Hemmings' hands.

—❦

After taking the picture of you and Luke, you had been mingling with people, eating, and drinking a few tequila sunrises. You had just settled into Luke’s living room to play Spin the Bottle, the classic party game. The group playing consisted of you, your best friend, Luke, Ashton, Calum, Brandy, Michael and Crystal. To be honest you were zoned most of the time, since you found the game a bit ridiculous.

Then you heard your name as the bottle pointed towards you. In your alcohol-infused state, you picked a dare.

“I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the room”, Ashton dared. You heard a few encouraging comments coming from your friends, and Brandy gave you a wide grin.  “Ash? Really?”, you squeaked, and gave him a deadly glare. “Well, didn’t you pick a dare, pumpkin?”, he asked and chuckled. Suddenly the rush of confidence you had seemed to fade out, and you mentally cursed the drummer.

“Okay”, you sighed, and looked across the room. The choice was obvious, but you didn’t want to give it away. So you pretended to consider your options for a while.

You got up from the floor, and got on your knees in front of Luke. You caught him looking at you, and he looked away. But then you leant to kiss him, and he kissed you back. The tingling feeling of him kissing you back flustered you. You shouldn’t like the feeling of his lips pressed against yours this much, but you did. His lips brushed over yours delicately, and your heart was pumping. It made no sense, but you loved every second of it. His beard stubble tickled you, but you didn't care. Not everyday you got the chance to kiss Luke fucking Hemmings, who was practically the hottest guy you had ever seen.

You backed away from the kiss first, then did Luke. 

 “Cool”, he let out a nervous chuckle and you did the same. Cool…really? You didn’t know if you should have been offended or relieved that the awkwardness of it was finally over.

“That was hot”, your best friend whispered into your ear as you went back to your place on the floor. “He’s hot”, you whispered back. The taste of pure tequila lingered on your lips.

“And Ashton’s so hot too”, they whispered. “Go get him, Y/B/F/N”, you advised, and winked at them.

The game continued and the next rounds were spent by hearing how Ashton’s favorite sex position was Basset Hound Doggy and Brandy’s biggest turn off in a relationship was controlling behavior. You also saw your best friend give a lap dance to the person who they fancied the most in the room, Ashton. They both seemed to enjoy it. Michael and Crystal had also shared a steamy make out session, to which you all cheered.

It was Luke’s turn next.

“Hmmm…okay. What is your biggest turn on?” Michael asked Luke and took a sip of his Corona, placing the bottle on the floor afterwards. Luke’s answer interested you, you had to admit. 

“Ohh…got many. But neck kisses are a big one”, Luke slyly answered and gulped down his tequila. “Ohhh, that’s a good one”, Ashton agreed and you saw him looking in your best friend’s direction. You rolled your eyes slightly, and giggled to yourself. They would totally share the bed tonight. 

Luke spun the bottle, which landed on Calum. He chose the truth. Luke didn’t come up with anything, so your best friend chose the question instead. 

“Which two people in this group should hook up?”, your best friend asked Calum.

Oh my god, were they serious? You totally knew where they were getting at. But hopefully Calum didn’t understand that, or anyone else for that matter. You were safe, Calum would definitely pick Michael and Crystal. Or Ashton and your best friend. 

“Well, the obvious choice would be Brandy and me. Or Michael and Crystal, but…I feel I want to stir the pot, I guess.. So… I think Luke and Y/N… I mean we saw the kiss Luke and Y/N had earlier”, Calum smirked devilishly at Luke, and then at you. The group around you chuckled, and seemed to agree with Calum as they were nodding their heads. But not you nor Luke. 

“Okayyyy, so maybe Cal should stop drinking for tonight”, you chuckled, and Calum gave you a humorous smile, which screamed a polite fuck you, in return. You saw Luke looking down at his drink on the floor with a drunken smile on his face. He fiddled with his rings on his left hand. He looked up and directly at you, boring his eyes into yours for a milli-second. You wondered what was going through his head, since yours was filled with so many questions. 

Why didn’t he say anything? Why was he so quiet? Did he find your kiss icky? Did he find you… repulsive? Why was he acting so strange? 

—❦

The party was over and people had left Luke’s apartment, which was now littered with red cups, beer bottles and pizza boxes. You had been settling into a spare bedroom in Luke’s house. Ashton, Calum, Brandy, Michael, Crystal and your best friend were staying over as well. 

You drank water alone in Luke’s kitchen, since everyone had already gone to sleep. The now quiet atmosphere made you feel at peace, and you smiled to yourself.

You enjoyed the brief moment of silence until a head of blonde messy curls appeared from the doorway.

Luke walked into the kitchen and gave you a tired little smile. He opened the refrigerator door and took a large water bottle, pouring it into a glass he retrieved from the cabinet. He placed the bottle back to the refrigerator and closed the refrigerator door as you were still drinking your own water.

You noticed how he had gotten rid of the jacket and the tie, leaving him with a slightly unbuttoned white collar shirt and dark gray pants. He had also wiped the lightning bolt off his forehead.

Standing here with Luke, in this terrifyingly awkward yet weirdly comforting silence, made you question your lust towards the man. Maybe it was just the alcohol running through your veins. That might just be the only logical explanation.

“Let me guess, you don’t want to get a hangover?”, you chose to break the silence.

“Hell no”, he sipped water, “did you have fun tonight?”. The blonde locked his eyes with yours and you looked away, your eyes now fixating on your ring-covered fingers.

You cleared your throat, and answered, “Yep, had a blast. And you?”. 

“Yeah”, he smiled and you went closer to him, as you were about to place the cup in the sink. Your hands brushed against his as he was just about to do the same. You both placed your cups in the sink, and your eyes met his. You both stood in your places quietly, and for some weird reason, you couldn't help but look at his parted lips. And you noticed him doing the same, then his eyes studying yours.

Your heart started to race a million miles an hour. You weren’t nervous around the people you fancied, but Luke was a different story. He was the epitome of gorgeous, so you couldn’t really blame yourself, could you?

He turned his body towards yours, and you took a step closer to him. You didn’t know what you were doing. Hell, you didn’t know what he was doing either.

Luke let out a low chuckle and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip. 

Yes, even a fool could tell you wanted to kiss him. But you weren’t sure if you should. And you weren’t sure if the man in front of you noticed that too. 

Thankfully Luke had noticed your indecisiveness as he leant in for a kiss. You had imagined this after the kiss during the game, but now that it was actually happening, you couldn’t believe it. This was rougher than the last time. More passionate. More demanding. He moved even closer to you, placing his hands on the sides of your face. You felt his cold rings against your bare skin, but it didn’t matter. Not when he touched you like this, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks and his tongue battling for dominance over yours.

He backed away from you, licking his lips.

“Fuck… I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry”, he apologized and rested his body against the kitchen counter.

“What do you mean?”, you frowned your eyebrows. Was he being serious right now?

“It’d mess things up…if we go further. Shit, this on its own could make everything awkward...”

“What if…what if we just don’t think about the consequences? You want me, and I obviously want you”, you suggested. You didn’t want to think, not now. You didn’t want your growing lust for Luke to go to waste. It would be a shame if it did.

“Are you..sure?”, he scratched the back of his head.

“Yes”

“Okay”, he let out a low chuckle and took a step closer to you, studying your lips in the meantime. 

“Luke?”, you looked into his eyes as you spoke.

“Yeah?”, he bored his blue eyes into yours, and placed his hands on your waist, tugging you closer to him.

“Just fuckin’ kiss me already”

“Thought you’d never ask”, he whispered, his voice perfectly husky and seducing. His plump lips found their place on yours and you swore you had never kissed someone like him before. His lips moved swiftly, hungrily against yours.

You tugged his shirt, wanting to get rid of it as soon as possible. 

“Luke?”, you asked, out of breath.

“Yeah?”, he wiped his mouth with his hand, and you couldn’t help but stare at the man’s mouth. The mouth that you wanted to do incredible things to you.

“What are we doing?”.

“What do you want to do princess?”, his voice was heavy, and hoarse. And so god-damn sexy. He moved a few stray hairs out of your face.

“Fuck…”, you cursed.

“...me?”, Luke smirked.

You were totally gone off the rails, so whipped for him, there was no going back now.

“Actually, yeah”, you decided to toss logic aside, and once again, Luke placed his lips hungrily on yours. You kissed him back passionately and he grabbed your ass under your skirt. You wrapped your hands around his neck, and felt the need to do such things to Luke you could never say out loud. 

“Jump”, he groaned between the rough yet lustful kisses and you jumped into his lap. He grabbed you by your outer thighs and placed you on the counter. He left wet kisses on your neck, leaving you wondering why you hadn’t done this sooner with him. Maybe it was the fact you had known this man for years, and he had never shown you any sign of interest. But it didn’t matter now, he clearly wanted you.

“Is this okay?”, he reassured you.

“You’re perfect”, you sighed and stared at the beautiful man in front of you. Yes, you had always thought Luke was hot, but this was something else. You loved how soft and assertive he was at the same time. This was dangerous, anyone could see you two. But you liked it this way. You didn’t want to think, you just wanted him. You craved him. You needed him.

His lips found their way back to yours and you bit his lower lip by accident. You felt Luke giggling against your lips, and you couldn’t help but do the same. 

“Can I take this off?”, he asked between the kisses as he was holding the fabric on your shirt. “Please”. And he does, leaving your chest area covered by your black bra. You started to unbutton his shirt and when you were done, he threw the white collar shirt on the floor next to yours. 

Luke traveled kisses from the side of your face to your neck, then to your chest. “Fuck, you’re so hot”, he remarked and you chuckled slightly as a response. Luke kissed you, and you kissed him, sliding your tongue into his mouth. You made out for a while until he decided to move the strap of your bra over your shoulder. He placed a few kisses on your shoulder, and you didn’t understand how he did it all this, being this fucking good at everything, but you enjoyed the show. 

“Need to get my fishnets off”, you whimpered under his touch. 

He ripped open your fishnets using his hands, and you swore to yourself you hadn’t seen anything as hot as that. You lifted your body using your hands on the counter so he could take the remains of the stockings off. And when he was done, he nibbled your ear and his heavy breathing made you squirm. 

“Finger me?”, you asked as his lustful ocean eyes stared into yours. “It’d be my pleasure”, he smirked, pushing your lingerie to the side and pushing two fingers into you with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Fuck, you are so wet…so good, Y/N”, he remarked huskily and moved his fingers inside you in swift motion. You widened your legs so he’d get a better entrance. “Mmmmh”, you whimpered, your head tilted back and eyes closed. Luke trailed down kisses from your neck to your chest. You opened your eyes and his lips crashed into yours. 

“Need you to fuck me, Luke”, you whispered into his mouth. “Believe me, I will. Just wanna make you cum first”, he whispered and kissed you. And in under a minute, you were a whimpering mess under his touch, him giving you a smug look. You swore you just saw the stars, no one had ever known your body like him. And it didn’t make any sense, this was the first time being with him. But it didn’t have to make sense, you were now with him and god, he made you feel incredibly good. 

His fingers left your entrance and his lustful dark eyes met yours again. He brought his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them, still holding the eye contact.

”Baby, you taste so good... Fuckin’ incredible”, he mumbled.

”Fuck…”, you whimpered as you were still coming off your high and watching Luke taste you did not help to urge to feel him inside of you. Neither did the fact that you noticed his boner through his dark dress pants. What was this man doing to you?

“Wanna go to my bedroom?”, he suggested, and placed a strand of your hair behind your ear, giving you a small lingering kiss on your collarbone.

“Thought you’d never ask”.

You both grabbed your clothes from the floor and you went upstairs. In the upstairs hallway, Luke couldn’t resist but pin you against the wall, kissing your face like he had never kissed before. You grabbed his erected dick under his dress pants and stroked it slightly above the material, making Luke whimper. “Y/N…”, he started yet couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Mmmh? Tell me?”, you asked as you started to unbuckle his belt.

“Mmmmh, don’t tease me, Y/N”

“That’s bold of you since you started it...”, you pointed out.

“Mmmhhh…fuck, that’s true. Let’s go before I fuck you against this wall and everyone will hear it”, he gave you a quick peck on your lips, leaving you wanting for more. You didn't know Luke could be this smug, but it definitely turned you on.

Luke led you to his bedroom. You placed yourself on his California King, and looked around. You had never been in Luke’s bedroom. A few paintings hung on the dark -painted walls, a vintage record player rested on the dressing table and the TV across the bed covered most of the wall space.

Luke retrieved a condom from his wallet, which was resting on his night-stand and pulled down both his pants and boxers, revealing his hardened dick. In the meanwhile you got rid of your skirt, and underwear. He placed the condom on and you couldn't help but admire the sight in front of you. Luke tossed both his pants and boxers off to the floor. He placed his body on top of you, kissing you and making the kiss deeper as you slid your tongue into his mouth. Your tongues danced together and your anticipation for the following grew, even though you had gone through your high already. But maybe, just maybe, he could make you come twice. His lips parted from yours, and he looked into your eyes, his fingers traveling along your lips.

“You’re so damn beautiful”. 

“You’re fuckin’ beautiful too”, you answered, your need for him growing.

“You ready?”.  You nodded and he slipped into you slowly as you kissed his neck. You detached your lips from his neck and tugged his hair, your hands exploring the softness of his curls. A few moans escaped from both of your mouths. How could he make moaning sound so damn good? 

“Please keep on going”.

"Was planning on doing so, princess".

He thrusted into you, and your walls clenched against him. You saw him biting his lip, his eyes wide open, clearly enjoying the view of you. “Fuck, you are perfect. So tight around me.... So good”, he praised.

This would probably never happen again, so you decided to make the most of it.

You met his lips in a kiss and you slipped your tongue into his mouth, his own meeting with yours. His thrusts became quicker and you both moaned of pleasure. Your hands had moved to his upper back, your nails scratching the warm skin.

And when you both came undone, you cleaned yourselves up and laid in his bed. You both stared at the bedroom ceiling. Luke had asked you to stay, which had surprised you. 

“I held myself back when you kissed me in the game”, the blonde confessed. You looked at Luke, whose left arm was leaning against the back of his head. Only now you noticed his bird tattoo on his bicep. You couldn’t see it properly in the dim lightning, but you were guessing it was a hummingbird. To be honest, there probably were a lot of things you didn’t know about him.

“Did you?”, you asked in a rather suggestive voice, and turned your body towards him under the covers.

“Well, yeah, have you seen yourself? Fuckin’ beautiful. I wanted to rip those fishnets off you the moment I saw you in them”, he chuckled and his eyes met yours.

You couldn’t help but feel flustered. Luke Hemmings, of all the people in the world, thought you were…beautiful?

“In that case, I’m happy I decided to wear them”, you giggled.

“I can buy you a new pair of fishnets”, he offered.

“You really don’t need to do that”.

“If that gives me an excuse to see you, then I’d like to”, you saw an endearing smile appear on his face.

“What if you break them too?”, you chuckled, not that you wouldn’t mind him doing that.

“Then I’d have another excuse to see you again”, he reasoned, and shuffled closer to you. You didn’t know if it was still the alcohol clouding your judgement, but you liked him. Maybe a bit more than you wanted to. 

“Seems like you want it to be a pattern”, you suggested.

“Well, if it makes you scream like earlier…”, he smirked and took you in his arms, your face squished against his warm and toned chest. “Luke!”, you screamed into his chest.

“Hush hush now, everyone is asleep”, he kissed the top of your head, and chuckled.

“Sorry”, you giggled and wrapped your hand around his waist, snuggling closer to him. Your face rested against his chest, and he stroked your hair gently.

"Good night beautiful", he reached for your lips and planted a small kiss on them, then turning off the bedside lamp. "Good night, Luke".

—❦

“Quit starin’ at me princess”, Luke spoke with his eyes closed as you lied with him in his enormous California King bed. 

“I can’t, you’re way too pretty”, you played with his curls, both of your naked bodies under the same duvet.

You had been awake for a while now, mainly going over the memories of last night. Luke’s lips pressed against yours, his hands grabbing the sides of your body, him whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he was inside of you.  You had contemplated leaving Luke’s house, but you didn’t want to do it to Luke. And the change in Luke’s behavior towards you made you question his motives. He even let you sleep in his bed, and didn’t want you to leave to your room. Did he actually like your company? Or was he just lonely?

You removed your hand from his set of curls, and wondered what it must be like to be that beautiful. It was unfair how good-looking he was.

“Talk to me about pretty, huh?”, he opened up his eyes and scanned your face. “Hush”, you gave him a deadly glare and he grinned back at you.

“Tell me when did you get so freaking hot?”, you asked him.

“Haven’t I always been?”, he winked and readjusted the pillows on the bed, his face and body now towards yours. 

“Yeah, but I mean…like this hot. Ridiculously hot. So hot I want to jump into your lap”

“Now you’re just makin’ a fool out of me”

“Am not! I promise”, you exclaimed. “I swear when I saw you last night, something happened inside of me. This lust, I guess…I don’t know what the hell it was”

“Well, thank you. Good to hear I don’t look like an absolute knobhead”, he rolled his eyes, and letting out a chuckle.

“And he’s funny too”, you giggled.

“C’mere”, he motioned you into his embrace and you laid there for a moment in silence, taking in the moment. This silence felt comfortable in some odd way. His fingers brushed gently against yours, moving to cup your face, his mouth telling you compliments you never expected to come from his mouth. You’re gorgeous. Your eyes are pretty as hell. I like cuddling you. You smiled back at him, not really knowing what to answer.

“So this wasn’t a one time thing?”, you decided to break the newly founded silence.

“Nope. If that’s okay with you?”, Luke searched for your approval from your softened eyes, and you gave him that. “More than okay”, you smiled. You looked for something in his eyes. Maybe a hidden truth. You were his friend, but you didn’t know him truly. You did not really have an idea who he was deep in his core. But your instinct told you to find out.

"Good. Did you actually like my Halloween costume or were you just being polite?", Luke hummed, and placed his head into the crook of your neck.

"I thought you looked hot. And so dreamy... So yes Luke, I liked it", you beamed, and pecked his lips. "A lot", you added and caressed his pretty curly hair.

"You were a pretty dreamy Ginny yourself", he placed his mouth on your neck, sucking on the skin slightly, then placing a few sloppy kisses on your jawline. His breath started to become noticeably heavier, and you giggled, "Luke Hemmings, you are one hell of a guy".

After a while of lounging around with Luke, you both decided to do your morning rituals and throw some clothes on. Yeah, you might have hooked up with him again, only in the shower this time, and you felt as if you couldn't keep your hands off the blonde.

You and Luke had decided to go downstairs and cook something for breakfast, and now you waited for him to come out of the bathroom. Luke opened up the bathroom door attached to his bedroom, and you studied his features.

You couldn’t help but smile as he was humming some song you had never even heard of. He had a habit of doing that, making you smile. Or at least that was what he had been doing the past hours. And last night, obviously. He was dressed in a pair of gray sweatpants, which made you drool over him, and a black AC/DC t-shirt. He had also offered you an oversized band t-shirt to wear since your own shirt was a bit uncomfortable to wear. So now you were standing in front of Luke, wearing his oversized t-shirt and barely visible black skirt. You would have never guessed that something like this could actually happen.

“Ready?”, he asked, and you nodded. You were waiting for him to open the door, until he decided to turn around and he grabbed your face into his hands. He pressed a delicate and endearing kiss on your lips.

“Actually, now we’re ready”, he chuckled and finally opened the door. “You dork”, you giggled, the taste of his toothpaste lingering on your lips.

“No one should be up, it’s barely 9am”, Luke commented as you were walking down the stairs. “Yeah, there’s not a chance anyone’s up yet”, you agreed with him and you both walked into the kitchen, only to discover every single person that had stayed at Luke's sitting by the kitchen table. 

“Good morning, Luke and Y/N”, Crystal greeted you two, to which both you and Luke responded.

Luke offered you a glass of water with a side of lemon and ice, after he had convinced you of how the drink makes a great hangover cure. You and Luke found yourself seats by the kitchen table, next to each other since they were the only ones not taken.

"Luke? Y/N?" Ashton opened his mouth.

“We fuckin’ heard you last night”,  Ashton remarked as both you and Luke were caught up in your own worlds. And then you made sense of what Ashton had just said.

...Oh my god, had they really heard all…that? 

Your best friend was sitting next to Ashton, and they were giggling with Ashton’s arm resting behind their chair.

You hadn’t talked this through with Luke. Shit, shit, shit. You hadn’t really even thought about if anyone had heard you last night.

“Oh you are speechless now, is that it?” Ashton giggled, making your friend, Michael, Crystal, Calum and Brandy laugh too.

“We really hope you Luke cleaned up the kitchen afterwards”, Crystal commented. “Just saying”, she added and gave a quick peck to Michael. Michael chuckled, and took turns looking at you, and then Luke.

“I did, don’t you worry about it Crys”, Luke scratched the back of his head, obviously feeling awkward as hell. You cleared your throat, wishing to be anywhere else than being questioned about your little rendezvous with Luke last night.

“And you used a condom?” Ashton asked, making Luke groan. “Of course, you fuckin’ moron”.

“Okaaaay, should we change the subject? Us having sex isn’t the most exciting topic”, you chuckled nervously, avoiding eye contact with everyone. Even the handsome blonde beside you.

“It definitely did sound exciting last night…All the screams and objects fallin’ to the floor, all Y/N’s whimpers and Luke’s -”, Ashton remarked, but was soon interrupted by an annoyed Luke.

“Okay okay, we get it. We were a bit loud. But let’s move on, please”, Luke groaned. 

"I want to hear more details though... Were the kitchen and Luke's bedroom the only places you had sex in?", your best friend took apart in the conversation, grinning from ear to ear. Y/B/F/N had to be kidding. And were the walls of Luke's house made of paper? "Yes", you answered in turn, trying to sound as convincing as you could. They didn't need to know about the shower session an hour ago.

”It was no wonder you ended up sleeping together, I mean you were drooling over each other the whole night”, Michael continued, and chuckled.

”You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me right now”, Luke cursed, obviously wanting the conversation topic to change sooner than later.

“Calm down, Hemmings”, Calum chuckled, earning a side eye from you and a deadly glare from Luke. “Okay, okay, I won’t say anythin’ next time”, Calum put his hands up in defense and grinned awkwardly. 

You looked at Luke only to discover him looking at you, a small smile creeping upon his pretty pink lips. Next time.

a/n: hey please do share your thoughts on the gifs, did they disturb your reading experience? i’d love to know, ty! 🤍

© 2023 bloodhoundluke.

[sylvrndoodles]

vortex, goddess of the sea, storms, and lightning

a homebrew goddess for my dnd game!

she's worshipped mostly by sailors, who rely on her generosity to make it through storm and sea monsters and arrive at their next port. those who die at sea are said to have either jilted her, or been appealing enough to be taken as one of her many lovers. her lightning can illuminate safe passage through a storm, or set your ship on fire.

those who are chosen to serve her as clerics and paladins are unusually beautiful, and are ceremoniously and literally married to her (though she doesn't care at all about monogamy). Those who serve her are all so desperately in love with her that they would throw themselves into the sea if she asked.

[pumpkinbxtch]

𓇼 the sun & the sea 𓇼 〰✷〰

— apollo / lester x daughter of poseidon!reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

☆ radiostar is playin': forever always by the driver era…!

warnings: none taglist: @emidpsandia

He, apparently, was dead missing.

"He went alone on the mission with Python. He hasn't returned for three days now." A month later, Meg contacted you through an Iris message and explained everything that had happened. A month later and the days passed, nobody knew about him.

"We only know that he retrieved all the Oracles and the gifts of prophecy returned," Chiron told you, and Dionysus, for the first time, looked nervous and worried about his brother.

But if Apollo had succeeded in his mission, where was he? You hadn't dreamed of him either. Days went by and your anxiety grew.

"I didn't agree, but my brother insisted on pushing him to the limit," Poseidon said seriously, and Percy replied, "I think he took it too literally, don't you?" You suppressed a groan while your father scolded your brother with his gaze. Python was gone forever, but they knew nothing of Apollo.

"It's okay, it's only been five days," you thought, but you realized that every day you did it with a new number and without any news until almost two weeks had passed... Honestly, you didn't know how many times you had cried in all that time, you didn't even bother to hide it, and even your roommate requested a room change.

Lately, the time was bad in every sense. Thunder rumbled, and you hugged the pillow tighter, tears already rolling down your cheeks. The room was colder than usual; after all, you were alone in it. You accompanied yourself with the dim light of your desk lamp, and the flash of lightning illuminated the darkest corners. You realized you were crying over too many things, everything was very recent, you hadn't even finished processing Jason's death, and those lightning bolts... all they did was remind you of it.

"Wasn't it enough with him?" You wondered as you let out your sobs. Jason was his son just like Apollo, and if he led them both to death just to reaffirm his authority to everyone, you had no doubts that Zeus was a cruel father. The thunder shook the window, and you closed your eyes in anger, not retracting anything, even if Zeus annihilated you with one of his lightning bolts, you would never do so. Probably beyond, on Olympus, your own father struggled with annoyance with his brother, but even if Poseidon wasn't half the father that Paul was to you and Percy, he would never allow you to be harmed.

Your tennis sounded against the wet sand of the path leading to your favorite café. You walked in a ghost town with a hollow chest and the cold penetrating your bones, but it didn't matter because you already felt like those skeletons that Nico brought to the surface when he was in a bad mood; anyway, you moved forward to have a hot chocolate, it was Sunday, you had to have enough strength for classes the next day.

— Here it is — the lady said when you had just formed in line at the bar. You frowned and shook your head.

— Surely it's for someone else, I just got in line.

The girl smiled and looked at the label.

— Hot chocolate? —she asked in the waiting line, and no one recognized it, she returned to you and handed it to you again. — It was ordered in advance.

A joke from Frank? Frank didn't make jokes. But if it were, how did he know what you wanted?

You took it and looked at the label, it had a sun drawn on it that made you purse your lips. "Of course, it had to be," you thought bitterly and walked back taking the long way, the one that passed by the small Tiber.

The sunlight barely reflected on the water after all it was covered by the clouds, and you sighed as you looked at the huge body of water, your chest hurt. How did this happen? You would be better off if you hadn't entered that Grove, but you had to do your will, but you wouldn't have had those days with Apollo, which provoked mixed emotions in you again.

"this rhymes for him were different, but he hopes for put that ring and find what he's been missing."

— If you wanted to marry me so much, come back and do it — you murmured with your nose buried in your scarf and tears stinging your eyes. You cut your step and faced the river that continued to shine coldly, the small cup you held slipped from your hands with each sob, and when you let out the first whimper, you let it go. However, it didn't fall. You gasped, and when you looked beside you, your breath left you.

Of those brown curls, only a few remained mixed with the blond ones, of the freckles you counted that last time you had him too close, there were only about three hundred instead of a thousand. He was taller, and his body more athletic, but he wore the same Led Zeppelin t-shirt and ripped jeans from the knees. His smile was big and triumphant, the same blue eyes you had been waiting to see were just trying to memorize your fractions in the same way you were doing with him.

— And are you serious or are you just fooling me?— His voice. You threw yourself into his arms without considering if he could be hurt, but judging by how he looked... then you took him by the shoulders, he foolishly thought you would kiss him, but you just leaned back and kicked him in the chest with the skill that only you could have.

He groaned on the ground in a fetal position, and seconds later, he rose on his elbows with a confused look.

— Idiot — you shouted as you walked towards him and knelt to be at his height. Apollo couldn't help but smile like an idiot, and you couldn't help but hug him again. — Where the hell were you?

Your whimpering caused guilt in his chest, and he took care of your head as both lay back on the grass. He stroked your hair as you clung to his chest, wishing his scent would imprint on you to never forget it.

— Hey…— He called you, and you looked up, noticing tears in his eyes too. You cupped his cheek and, before he could say anything else, you kissed him. The first kiss. He closed his eyes, completely surrendered to you, feeling like he could finally breathe freely after months. When your soft lips left his, he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You couldn't see it, but Apolo had a flushed face and a knot in his stomach.

But you didn't need to see it, because as he hid in you, the sun broke through the clouds, shining brightly, almost lighting up the whole world with brighter colors than before. It was with that detail that you confirmed he had become a god again, and his feelings were showing to you in too many ways.

— I…— You spoke after several minutes of silence, causing him to sit properly on the grass with you, holding your hand. — I do want to be with you. I'm not just messing around, just so we're clear.

— Do you have an alternative? — He joked, and you gently pushed him while nervously looking at your hands.

— Fool.

— For you, of course — he cooed as he took your chin in his hand and forced you to look at him. His cheeks were still flushed, but you noticed that his skill to seduce without seeming like an inexperienced teenager had returned, and that's where your first jealousy arose because you wished only you could have that side of him.

— And only for me, I'm sure — you grumbled under your breath at having that thought, and he laughed.

— I was born to love only you, believe me.— Apollo said, getting up and offering his hand to help you. — And just like art, I'll be faithful to you.

— Wow, what a great poet — you took his hand, and he took you by the waist, bending down to touch his nose to yours. You never believed in the expression "like a Greek god" until he looked at you in that way.

— Are you going to marry me? — He stroked your nose with his while gently squeezing your waist. You nodded silently like a fool, and he gave you a peck on the lips with a smirk. — I just wanted to make sure, but actually, I don't need any of that to be devoted to you. You're everything to me.

He took your hand and led you along the edge of the small Tiber, which now shone fervently.

•

— Apollo! — You shouted from the reception of the mansion on Olympus, closing the big door forcefully and looking at your husband playfully peeking behind his throne.

— Yes, dear? — You pursed your lips and approached him.

— Where are my things?

— Which ones? — He played dumb, and you sighed.

— From my bedroom at the university, where are they?

—In your room...— you raised an eyebrow — here.

You growled and pulled him to come out from behind the throne.

— I told you it would be until I graduated.

Apollo pouted and slumped his shoulders.

—But I miss you.

You smiled and hugged him.

— I miss you too, but— you stepped back and showed the ring on your ring finger —I have this, darling, and that's enough to scare off my classmates. I don't need to come down from Olympus every day when I can be in the dorms.

Apollo nodded regretfully.

— Alright, alright...— he snapped his fingers and smiled at you — everything is already in your silly university dorm.

You smiled and gave him a kiss. As you started making your way to the exit, he sighed.

— I'll see you tonight — he shouted, and you turned around smiling.

The Sun illuminates the beauty of the sea but never tries to contain it, and the sea shows the sun that even in the stormiest moments or the darkest nights, its light never fades.

[macabr3-barbi3]

can you do a fic of alastor comforting the reader after a nightmare? more fluff then smut please <333

I went full fluff for this anon, I hope this is what you were looking for! Super short but I had a fun time writing this cute little thing, please feel free to shoot me another ask and let me know what you think <3 (I should be sleeping but decided to write and post this instead 💕)

Tags: fluff; Alastor x Reader; nightmares; comfort; established relationship

Possible tw/cw for drowning? just in case

The darkness of the night is interrupted only by the crack of lightning across the sky, static in the air, your cries swallowed up by the boom of thunder somewhere nearby. You don’t get a chance to inhale, fill your body with one last sweet gulp of air, before the tide takes you under, chest burning with the effort of trying to hold your breath. You can’t hold it- it breaks free of your mouth with a rush of bubbles and a scream that no one can hear with your head underwater. Knowing that you shouldn’t, muscle memory makes you inhale once again.

You know that you’re dreaming, but that doesn’t make the intake of water into your lungs any less terrifying.

Your hands fly to your throat to try to stop it- a pointless endeavor since it has already entered you, weighing your body down. Glancing towards your feet, another crack of lighting illuminates the water enough for you to see the rope around your ankle before the cinder block tied to the other end starts to descend, dragging you deeper and deeper into the murky depths. The dark gray of the sky fades quickly from your view as you sink, mouth open in another scream for someone- anyone - to save you.

A hand grips yours, tight around the wrist, and you cling to it- drag it down against your chest, press your lips to the skin you find there like it can somehow push air back into your lungs. Relief floods your veins, the warm palm against your own a physical reminder that despite everything you were not alone- drowning but moments from salvation.

When it tries to pull away you resist, dig your claws into your could-be savior, pleading words on your lips that can’t travel on airwaves beneath the water as they are. They pull harder, out of your grasp, and your tears become one with the sea as you are pulled to the bottom of it without them.

Screaming is what awakens you, the ache in your throat violent and sharp enough finally that you bolt upright in your bed, Alastor’s crimson gaze settled on your face, his smile grim and tense. He’s crouched over your frame and holds both of your hands in his, your elbows and legs still fighting against water that no longer surrounds you. There are tiny rivulets of blood on his wrists from where you had grabbed him.

You force yourself to relax, deep breaths that do nothing to soothe the burn in your throat. You stop fighting Alastor, make your limbs go still against him and collapse back against the bed. Tears burn at your eyes, not just those leftover from your dream but new ones at the thought of hurting him while he tried to help you.

“I’m so sorry.” Your voice is a quiet rasp and your body goes boneless, Alastor finally releasing his grip on your hands and leaning back. Unlike the first time this had happened, there is no frantic pounding at the door in response to your screams- he had taken care of that problem after Charlie had shown up to your room in a panic, Vaggie with her spear at the ready before Alastor had explained that it wasn’t necessary. It was only ever when you fell asleep at different times; when he had other matters to attend to in the hotel or radio studio, or times when you feel asleep waiting up for him. He had been horrified to discover them at first, but since becoming accustomed to them he was quick to give you comfort in the aftermath.

He collects you in his arms, pulls you against his chest with a hand in your hair and the other in yours. “No apology necessary, dear,” he murmurs, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head. “I know it’s nothing you can control.”

“I hate this,” you whisper into his shirt. “I hate that it makes me so… so weak.”

You feel his head shake more than you see it. “Never,” he assures you. “You could never be such a thing.”

“You don’t have nightmares,” you say petulantly, and the vibration of his chuckle against you is something you could feel for centuries and never tire of.

“I have other terrors to face, I’m afraid. That doesn’t make the ones you handle any less difficult.”

You sigh, settling deeper into his embrace. “When you took my hand,” you say quietly, “it helped. It was like a lifeline- something to ground myself with. In the dream it felt like a rescue- I didn’t know it was you, I can’t get that far out of it to recognize that- but it helped me feel less alone.” You lower your gaze. “Less like I felt when I died.”

Panicked. Overwhelmed. Desperately, horribly isolated when you had been sent over the side of the ship all those years ago. There had been no cinder block- that part of the nightmare an unfortunate addition from your terrorized mind- your going overboard having been an accident, but the crashing of waves over your head as you tried to scream was always the same, the storm that raged overhead never ending as you had been left behind.

“Look at me.” He uses his hand in your hair to guide your face towards his, placing a chaste kiss on your lips before pressing your foreheads together. “I will never allow you to be in a situation like that again. Whether an external force or the horrors of your mind, I will always be here for you, darling.” With his other hand he gives yours a squeeze. “I will tie my hand to yours in the night if you desire, so I cannot pull away even by accident. So you always have that reminder that I’m beside you. I will not leave you behind.”

You fist your hand in his shirt, bury your face in the fabric so he can’t see the freshest tears. “I love you,” you say, and he brushes his hand gently through your hair once more.

“And I love you, dear. Rest easy now- I’m here with you. I always will be.” He hums something soft and gentle above you, and the low vibrations and the heat of him lulls you back into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

[the-kr8tor]

In Deep Water

Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 8.7k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, CW vomit mention, CW Inaccurate medical procedures, CW injury, TW blood, CW violence, TW death, CW guns.

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 7 >>> CHAPTER 8

The laughter gets louder as the source of it shows itself aboard the black hellion, the fog makes way like a curtain opening to start a performance.

Hobie's grip is tight, fingers weaved around your arm, bruisingly strong. Your nails dig into his flesh as the uniformed man tilts his head to look at you, his toothy yellowing grin thrown in your direction. His powdered white wig flutters in the breeze, medals glinting off the single lamp on the bow, hands resting on the pommel of his pristine sword. The angelic figure head is a stark contrast to the devil sneering down.

The blackened wood of his ship groans as it continues to break a part of the revenge. The sails unfurled behind him, blue wings fluttering in the wind.

The angel of death has come.

“Look at what we have here.” He clicks his tongue, eyes boring a hole through your skulls, he narrows them into slits, and like a snake, he slithers as close as he can, tethering close to the edge. There's a flash of emotion in his eyes, snarling, the navy man chuckles, the mere sound makes you want to cower. “Hello little birdy, now how far did you fly to get where you are now?”

Hobie clenches his jaw, stepping over to hide you from his view. His hand never leaves yours, the dull ache from his hold says that this isn't just a nightmare.

You want to wake up even if it means losing his hold on you.

“Oh where are my manners? Mummy would whip me if she ever knew I didn't introduce myself to a lady.”

Hobie shifts his weight, ready to pounce if need be. You grab his shirt, making sure he doesn't do anything drastic. Subtly flicking your eyes to the side, you see the crew do the same. They look at you with fear in their eyes, the hunter’s gazes illuminating their contorted faces.

You can't help but let out a shuddering breath, the sound echoing around the open waters, hoping to get your cry for help to somebody who can do something, anything to get you and everyone out to safety.

“My name's Captain Mathias Bradshaw.” He drawls, thin lips curling into a smirk. “This here is my little merry band of sailors who has a bone to pick with—” pointing at Hobie with his thick finger, white cosmetic smeared on his palms. “Him. The red hydra. I forgot to greet you yet, long time no see you rapscallion.”

You hear Hobie's shallow breathing. Grey eyes thundering, a storm brewing, lightning flowing through his veins. The only reason why he doesn't let himself loose on Mathias is your touch.

“You see here, sweetheart,” The man addresses you and you only. “For the past three years your so-called captain and I have had a bit of a tiff.” He chuckles coldly. “A rivalry of sorts.” He pauses, looking over his shoulder. “Is it still a rivalry if you're leagues above your rival?”

“No, sir.” A gruff voice says, hidden behind the mist.

Mathias turns back around. “Well, we got our answer then.”

Hobie sneakily murmurs to you. “Hide—”

“I'm not done talking!” The sudden outburst makes you jump in your skin.

“You should've been done with your senseless dialogue a long time ago.” Hobie straightens his posture, head held high, a picture of a pirate captain. “Come down here and fight like a fuckin' man, show me your flames and I'll show mine.”

The man scoffs, amusement in his green eyes. “Flames? Yours is barely a spark.”

Hobie scoffs. “Let's be done with it then. Get the closure we both want, fight me in single combat.” Mathias knits his brows, Hobie smirks. “No? Thought you were a gentleman, where's your fuckin' honour?”

A booming laugh replaces Mathias’ scowl. “I guess it died with your little red hair—”

Hobie lets go of you, drawing his gun, pointing it directly at the monster's head. The crew takes this as their cue, doing the same, pointing their weapons towards the men surrounding them.

There's hunger in his eyes, beneath the swirling grey there's a hunger waiting to be fed.

The enemy ships don't even aim their cannons at the revenge, instead they float still in the water, unmoving, the men aboard their ships smirk in your direction like you're being served to them on a silver platter. It's then you notice the sons of the sea’s ship is no more. They took the brunt of the hellion’s collision.

No longer their sails fly, their crow's nest and pieces of wood lay floating in dark waters.

Left behind, slowly drowning in the depths.

You feel droplets sliding on your cheeks, for a second you thought it's your tears. And then more and more of it comes pouring down, splashing on the wooden floorboards.

Thunder booms from a distance, lightning flashes in the sky, lighting everyone's scornful faces.

A few of Karl's men stand with Hobie, clutching their injuries. You don't see Robbie, his lack of presence makes you glare at the sneering men.

“Say her fuckin’ name.” Hobie says through gritted teeth. “After what you did— Say her name.”

“Eh.” Mathias shrugs, “I forgot.” the laughter of his men echoes in the mist.

“You fucker—!” Hobie's hand shakes despite this, he draws the golden gun, aiming it at the navy man whose smirk gets wider.

“I recognize that little blunderbuss.” He chuckles, wiggling his pointing finger, “She pointed that at my head too, you'll be unsuccessful just like she was.”

It takes every fiber inside Hobie to not just shoot and face the consequences later. But he's surrounded, his crew is surrounded, they have no chance of escaping death if he shoots. The only option he has is through single combat and to appeal to the man's ego. He's hoping the idea works.

One look over his shoulder, one glance at your trembling face and he's back to that day, the day MJ was lost. He prays that this day doesn't end the same way three years ago.

“Little dove,” Mathias’ devilish eyes roam over your trembling body. “Look at you,” he chuckles lowly, “I'd say dear ol' Hobie here got an upgrade just because this one's got her head still glued on her neck!”

Hobie almost shoots him until someone from his crew screams, their voice full of malice, venom dripping with every utterance.

“Fuck you!” Gwen exclaims, “Don't you have any honour? She's dead and you're still spitting on her watery grave! After everything you've put her through!”

“Ah! Gwen Stacy, the ballerina turned pirate. How you doin', miss Stacy? I heard your father's still down in the stables, trying to repay his debt to the crown.” he rags her on, scoffing.

“You're still defending her? She's a traitor, a navy spy. The greatest one we've ever had in fact. Her only downfall is loving a bunch of…” he sucks in his teeth, trying to find the word. “Thieves like you. Love got her head cut off and love will be your ruin too.” Flicking his eyes to you, he observes everyone's faces after his tirade.

Hobie steps between Gwen and Mathias, his guns still raised, eyes brimming with the anger of a forsaken God. Yet he remains calm, clearing his throat, standing tall.

“Mathias Bradshaw, I challenge you to single combat, a duel. I win, you let us go. You win and you get to take us all back to the capital.” Hobie's voice booms louder than the thunder above. Lightning strikes near, the water sizzles at the contact. “I know a man of your stature can't say no.”

The man in the uniform guffaws loudly, broad shoulders shaking. “Oh that's hilarious, you think you'd win against me, little pirate? Hmm?”

“Yes.” Hobie doesn't miss a beat.

Mathias smiles, “I guess this one's less messy than what I was planning. Name your terms.”

“Guns only, five bullets. You get shot three times you lose.”

“I'll add a tiny thing to your wager.” The navy man looks over to your direction, pointing his crooked finger at you. “Same terms but I get to keep your little bird.”

Hobie turns to you, wide eyes staring back at you. “No—” He's already shaking his head before you speak up.

“Deal!” You roar above the thunder storm, deciding your own fate. The rain is getting heavier, drenching your terrified self. “The captain will take your terms as long as you honour it.” Nodding to Hobie, he holsters his weapon away from you.

Mathias cackles in the background.

Gently holding on to your arm, you already know what he'll say.

“Don't. Do you know what you just agreed to?”

“I do,” you stare at his raging eyes but they're tender when he looks at you. “I know you can take him, I trust you.” Taking his hand away from your arm, you squeeze him once before pulling him towards you. “Don't play fair, because he won't.” you whisper. “Fucking obliterate him, for MJ.”

Hobie takes you in like it's the last thing he'll ever do. He imprints your touch in his mind, wanting to remember the softness of it when the bullets get too much for him to bear.

He nods slowly, still unsure of your decision. If you trust him enough to sell your soul then he'll fight to the death so you don't have to.

With one last look at you, he turns around, facing up to the man he loathes the most, wanting to just strangle him with his bare hands. Maybe he'll do just that.

For the crew.

Mathias takes his blue coat off, grinning the entire time.

For MJ.

He grabs on to a rope, rappelling off the black hellion, landing in a thunderous impact on the deck.

For you.

Now that he's leveled with your gaze, he's a lot smaller down on the deck, stout with a round belly, face painted with white lead that's currently melting in the downpour. Hobie's taller and slimmer but he makes up for it in his agility and speed. You've seen him fight but Mathias' form could be compared to Finn's build, all muscle and strength hidden behind his uniform.

You're glad this was a duel of pistols if it was any other fight Hobie could be in trouble.

A few of his men do the same, jumping off the hellion while the ones on the smaller ships stay on board but keeping their eyes peeled.

Surrounding the bloodsail pirates, the hands of Mathias' men never leave the pommels of their rapiers. Hobie clenches his jaw, now standing before the king's flame, he can't help but gaze behind the man, back to you and his crew.

Gwen goes to your side, lacing her trembling fingers through yours, Pav sidles behind you, clutching the back of your vest. Miles stands next to Gwen, holding her other hand. You see them look at eachother with a knowing glance and glimmering eyes.

Your eyes meet Hobie's, you give him a nod, eyes full of fury, and trembling lips. You mouth a ‘Bleed him dry’.

The simple act of Hobie smiling at you, makes you tear up. It's the same one he gives you after you patch him up, it's the same one when he handed you the hot chocolate. It's the same smile that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

You're afraid as you part with the crowd to the side of the duelists, lest you get caught in the crossfire. As the one in front, you get a good look at the enemy on the other side, all lined up perfectly like the obedient soldier men that they are. You roam your eyes to their faces, wondering how they could obey a man like Mathias.

You assume the uniformed man walking towards the duelists is Mathias' right hand man. Left eye covered in an eye patch, his hazel eyes observe you. He's carrying a large wooden box, pristine and smooth at the edges with golden locks and embellishments. He opens it with a creak, rain water landing on the wood and soaking the velvet inside.

“You're the challenger, you get the first pick.” Mathias gestures towards Hobie, all smiles like he's not about to meet the end of a bullet.

You stand on your tippy toes to take a peek inside. There are two dueling pistols, flintlocks. One white as fresh snow, one is black like the hellion.

Hobie takes his pick, pocketing what you assume is the five bullets. The black gun in his hand shines when a lightning strikes the mast of the hellion. You hear splintering wood in the distance.

He steps back in place, measuring the metal’s weight in his hand.

“Good choice.” Mathias eyes down the gun. “Death has touched that one.”

Hobie glares, baring his teeth. If only that was enough to kill the man before him.

Mathias takes the remaining gun, wiggling it in his hand. “You ready, little pirate?”

Hobie doesn't show an ounce of fear. “You're going to die today.”

“How confident, confidence alone won't help you aim straight.”

Your entire body shakes whilst they stand back to back, guns raised on their sides. They walk slowly, counting their steps.

The pouring rain doesn't help, raindrops obscuring your vision, the cold mixing in with the ice in your veins.

With every step Hobie takes,

Five

with every hit of his boots on the floorboards,

Four

your heart tries to escape,

Three

pulse hammering,

Two

threatening to give out. Afraid of what's to come. No one else dares to make a sound.

One

Standing end to end on the dock, they turn around swiftly.

After a beat, the man with the box yells. “Fire!”

Bang!

The sound echoes out in the dark, above all the rain and thunder.

Hobie hits his mark, Mathias groans, clutching his dominant shoulder. Smoke bellows out of their guns, dissolving into the rain.

Your words are repeating in Hobie's head ‘Don't play fair’ you say, then he won't play fair.

He notices his bleeding arm, looking down he sees the bullet nicked his skin, leaving an angry gash in its wake. The wood behind him gets the brunt of the bullet, the metal embedding inside, splintering a gaping hole.

You jump when Mathias laughs along the thunder. More and more lightning pierces the sky. You can taste iron in your mouth, not realizing the pain from biting the inside of your cheeks.

They reload, Mathias’ man observing with his watchful eye, making sure they both adhere to the rules; but you highly doubt he's doing it for fairness sake.

Metallic clanking, gunpowder clinking against steel, Mathias' voice enters the fray to your dismay.

“You know, you were too easy to fool.” He starts, finishing up his reload. “You never asked why I left my lieutenant in your hands and why was it so damn easy for you to get my travel documents.” Smiling, the lead on his face melts further, dripping on the floorboards, the white paint mixing in with his blood. “Just like I said, love will be your downfall.”

Hobie doesn't have enough time to squabble, instead he would let his aim talk for him.

“Twenty paces!” The eye patch man yells again.

Hobie and Mathias move forwards, getting closer and closer to each other. You want to put a stop to the duel, but you have to trust Hobie that he'll make it, that he'll win. He has to.

You dare not blink.

“Fire!”

Bang!

Hobie almost keels over, his shoulder heavily bleeds, trembling hand holding his flesh together. You see him smile underneath the pain, following his gaze, Mathias clutches his shooting hand, groaning and hissing. It looks like Hobie shot a hole right in the man's hand. The white gun lays on the bloodied floor, discarded.

Gwen's hold on you tightens, you can hear Pavitr sob quietly.

You catch Hobie's eyes. There's hope in the swirling grey, nodding, you encourage him, mouthing an ‘end it’. He seems to understand, straightening his stance, he reloads the gun as best as he can with an injured shoulder.

Mathias wheezes out a strained laugh. “I gotta hand it to you, your aim is pretty good.” He stands, grabbing his gun on the way up with his uninjured hand. “No matter how amazing your aim is, you're still bloody blind!” He screams, spit flying out of his mouth.

“My two bullets that's in you say otherwise.” Hobie tilts his head mockingly.

“No, no, no.” Mathias clicks his tongue, waving the gun wildly. “You still don't get it do you? You're not asking questions, letting everything fall into your lap, thinking God's on your side on your little revenge quest. But he's not,” he chuckles. “Sacrificing my lieutenant was the best decision I've ever made, especially knowing the fucker can absolutely sing. Loose lips sink ships, little pirate. Do remember that. Especially since you didn't seem to learn from it last time.”

Hobie's face falls, dread filling his chest.

“Bribing the governor to plant my travel documents and telling him to go unwind in a brothel for a couple of days was well worth my coin.” Mathias stretches his shoulder, reloading his pistol with bloodied hands.

He continues. “The two idiots at the gates were…well idiots, I barely had to do anything to them. The lock was a false security to make you sweat a little bit.” The king's flame proves himself. “You're blind. You've focused so much on taking me down that you didn't notice the little details. It's either that or you're also deaf, preferring not to hear your crew's concerns.”

“Not a very good attribute for a supposed captain.” he shrugs, he says his words mockingly.

“Fuck you!” Hobie aims directly at his rival's head.

It's all his fault, everything that led up to this point is his fault.

The gun trembles in his hold. Mathias looks pleased, smiling at Hobie.

“You know the rules.” Mathias sucks in his teeth. “Don't fire until lieutenant Dubois says so or I win and I get your little bird.” he looks over at you. “Oh we're gonna have so much fun together, every night, every day.” His laughter makes you want to grab the nearest knife and shove it down his throat.

You don't back down from his disgusting gaze. “If he doesn't kill you, I will.” Pavitr tries to hold you back. “And it won't be quick.” your voice shakes from sheer anger.

“I look forward to it, duchess.” Mathias spares you one last glance.

You don't notice how Hobie looks angrier than he did, he's clearly holding back. His glare alone could burn a hole through Mathias' skull. Yet he stands tall, getting a second wind; he's gonna shoot a hole in his skull instead.

His head goes a hundred knots per hour, thinking of all the what ifs. What if he just listened, what if he didn't let her stay, what if, what if, what if, the words are tattooed in his mind, clawing and biting at his psyche.

“Ten paces!”

They walk in sync, closer to each other more than ever. Pausing in place, they stare each other down, Mathias' smile never leaving his lips. Hobie's scowl gets deeper with every second that passes.

“Fire—!”

“Fuck this.” Mathias lunges in surprise, grappling Hobie.

Hobie doesn't get a chance to dodge, his gun clattering on the floor as the heavier man tackles him to the ground. The wet floors make it hard for Hobie to find leverage against Mathias who's currently choking him with his large arm.

Chaos ensues, everyone breaks the line, unsheathing their weapons, fighting, steel and skin clashing. Pistols going off left and right, but your main focus is on the two men writhing on the floor.

You hear Hobie choke so you run faster, taking a fallen dagger from a corpse, you quickly dodge people, determined to save Hobie.

“This is what happens when you let your feelings decide for you!” Mathias yells above the mayhem.

Finally making it close to them, in one swift movement, you stab Mathias on his back, crimson ebbs on his white shirt like spiderwebs. He screams, letting go of Hobie.

You don't spare him a glance as you take Hobie by his arm, dragging him below deck. Shutting the doors closed, Mathias bids you farewell with one last cackling.

Guiding him through the corridors, you hope the winding hallways help make it harder for the enemies to find you.

“Y/N.” He wheezes out.

“Don't fucking talk.” Your feet brings you to the galley. Sitting him down, he plops like a fish on the chair, head lolling to the side.

Slapping his cheek, he wakes back up with a groan. “Actually, keep talking. Stay awake, please.”

Hobie nods, “I need to go back up, I can't leave them there.” He tries to stand but your hands stop him, making him sit back down.

“You can't help in this state. Let me treat you then you can go and help.” You look in his pained eyes. “Please, at least let me help with your shoulder.” your other hand fumbles to his back, searching for an exit wound. You already know the answer when you feel the hot crimson weeping out from the puncture left behind.

You plead with your eyes.

“Alright, do what you have to do. Make it quick.” he nods, you leave his side to light a fire in the hearth, laying a metal poker on top of the hot coals. “Can I tell you a story?”

“Whatever keeps you awake.” Taking out the first aid kit from your bag, you notice your hands tremble. They never shake when you're treating someone, with your back turned away from him, you swallow down a sob.

“There was this girl, she had red hair like one of those…” he sighs, injuries aching, throat throbbing. “Apples.”

You reach his side once again, trembling fingers dipping into the wound ointment. “You have a way with words.”

He grabs your shaking hands in his, “Are you alright?”

You pause in your frantic movements, blinking rapidly. “Y-you’re the one who's bleeding right now.”

“You're shaking.”

You twist your wrists away from his touch. “I'm alright, worry about yourself and your crew.”

“You're a part of my crew”

“Shut– just…” you exhale. “Continue your story.”

Hobie nods, eyes drooping. “She just one day showed up on the docks, asking for a place.” He inhales sharply. “I needed to fill the second ship so I agreed, I let her in. I shouldn't have done it.” His eyes well up but no tears fall. “I should've turned her away but she was determined, she had the skills to stay— can you give me somethin’ for the pain? A fuckin' rum or wine, anythin’”

“No alcohol, if you want to bleed out be my guest.” You hold a cloth above his wound, pressing down to stop the bleeding as much as you can.

“Fucker!” He stomps his foot, “you can be such a little shit sometimes you know?”

You can hear the struggle upstairs. Weirdly enough, there's no sound of cannons firing.

“I know—” the ship tilts suddenly, flinging you and Hobie brutally to the side. You do your best to shield his injured self, taking the brunt of the impact, back stinging from the wall.

He lands on top of you, arms on your side, face hidden on the crook of your neck. You can feel his staggered breathing on your skin.

Bottles and pans fly towards you two. Pushing him away, you guide each other to the corner of the room, huddled together, protected by the hearth.

“Shit!” Hobie protects your head with his hand when a pot flies towards you. The ship keeps turning and tossing the both of you until it finally straightens out, you can feel how fast its going by how wild the utensils are swinging.

“Someone got hold of the helm.” He whispers, his cool hand on your tender shoulder. “We're running.” Hobie doesn't say it with pride or dejection, he utters it with embarrassment.

“That's good,” you stand up, giving him a helping hand. “We can get out—”

The unmistakable sound of a cannonball whizzes past and the ship lunges harshly on the side again. You can hear frantic yells from above.

Hobie takes your hand, “I need to get up there.”

Helping him up, you nod. “And you will, let me close that wound off and give you something for the pain and we'll go back up there.”

“Y/N, you can't—”

“We will go up there.” the fire in your eyes makes him obey. “Sit down, I'll make this quick but not painless.”

He flops down, masking the pain with a grimace. Inhaling, he continues. “I let MJ in.”

You pause for a second before taking the metal poker. “Even after seeing all the bloody signs.” He sighs. “Maybe I am blind.”

You hold his face tenderly. “You were, but you still have a chance to change that. You can still help your crew. Make it right for their sake.”

He holds the back of your neck, kneading the skin with his bloodied fingers. “I don't regret letting you stay.”

You look at him apologetically. “You will after this.” Shoving the leather pot holder in his mouth, moving aside his clothes. “Inhale” you place the hot poker directly on his bullet wound, cauterizing the gaping hole.

It sizzles, Hobie holds on to your sides tightly, bunching up the fabric in his hands. Muffled screams eaten up by the leather in his mouth.

You move the rod away once it's done. Hobie's eyes roll in the back of his head. Slapping him lightly, he wakes back up.

“Stay awake, hey. Look at me.” He stares at you through half-lidded eyes. “There you are, captain.” You smile to reassure him. He gives you a tired nod. “Now for the exit wound.”

Hobie inhales, more than ready this time around. His skin is clammy, eyes red from the brimming tears. He clenches his entire body, determined to get it over with. Twisting around in his seat, he hopes the ship doesn't rock as you push the searing metal poker on the back of his shoulder.

With a muffled yell from him, you take the tool away, letting it cool down. Moving his head with your hand, you look at him apologetically.

“I'm sorry, if I warned you first you would've flinched.”

Hobie spits the leather out of his mouth, patting your cheek with his sweaty hand, he leaves it there, stroking your skin.

“I wouldn't have flinched.” He chuckles through the searing pain.

“Of course you wouldn't.” You hold his hand that's on top of your cheek. “You did good.”

He laughs, hand leaving your skin to hold your hand instead. “Not the first time I've felt fire.”

You smile, without thinking, you lay your forehead on his as more cannonballs fly around the revenge.

“You did good too.” He whispers. Eyes closed, he leans away. “Now get me something for the pain and let's get the bastard.”

You smile, nodding to him. Taking a bottle from your bag, you rub mint oil on his upper lip, igniting his nerves, keeping him awake.

“That's the only thing I have that could help. I can't give you alcohol.”

Hobie tentatively stands up, “Maybe after this then.” He groans, slightly limping. “‘m gonna need an entire crate of ‘em.” he thinks adrenaline is enough to keep him on his feet.

He faces you, a ghost of a smile on his pained face. Hobie bends at the waist, you scramble to help him but he refuses with his hand raising to stop you. Taking something from inside his boot, he grabs a shiny and slender thing.

“Here.” Hobie hands a silver dagger to you, intricate carvings of a turtle and a sea snake looping around the glimmering handle. “Somethin’ to defend yourself.”

“Are you sure? It looks—”

“I don't mind givin’ it to you.” He closes your hand around the hilt. “Make sure this one hits his neck this time.”

“I will.” Your eyes fill with determination, adrenaline still coursing through you.

He wobbles towards the door, sparing you a smile on the way.

“Hobie,” you call after him. “Continue your story after this?”

“Only if you tell me yours.” He looks over his shoulder, giving you the same smile he always has.

You scoff with a small smile, “Maybe I will.”

“Let's fuckin’ go and be pirates then.”

—

Getting up the deck was tedious work with all the rocking and shifting from the ship and the wild waves, add that with all the cannon balls whizzing past, it was like riding an angry bull. Meeting halfway with Karl on the way there made it easier, filling your chest with hope.

“Where's Robbie?!” He frantically yells, forehead bleeding, hands gripping Hobie's vest.

“I-I don't know.” Karl's face falls. “But we'll find him, I know he got out.”

“Got out from what?” His voice trembles, “what happened, Hobie?”

Hobie holds his friend’s wrist, “I'm sorry.” Karl weeps. “Go find Robbie and your crew.” He shakes his head. “And get the hell out of here, he's after me not you.”

Karl's eyes fill with tears, flicking towards you who look on with sad eyes. “What about you and the others?”

“We'll find a way out. We always do, remember?” Hobie reassures him with a smile. “Take one of my dinghies, and row the hell out of here.” he takes Karl's hands away from his vest. “We'll see you back at the old place, yeah?”

“You fucking better, Hobart or I'll drown you myself.” Karl takes your hand briefly, nodding. “I hope I see you again, doc.”

“Me too, captain. Find Robbie.”

You part ways with Karl, praying that he finds Robbie and what remains of his men.

“Ready, trouble?” Hobie gets your attention by brushing his pinky against the back of your hand.

“I'm right behind you.”

—

It's war.

The moment Hobie opened the door to the deck you smell petrichor and blood in the air.

You get a glimpse of the battle before he could shut the doors. Bodies, both pirates and navy alike lay motionless on the floor. The sound of thunder mixes in with the pained yells, flashes of lightning illuminates the night sky and you see the faces of the dead clearly.

Two-fingers lay face first on the deck, arms bent at an angle, blood pooling from his head. Through the smoke and splintered wood, Foul screams when a sword plunges through his heart, silencing him immediately. Danny takes a bullet for Finn who promptly avenges him with his cutlass, swiftly separating the man's head from his body.

One face you were hoping was among the dead was missing. Mathias isn't on board.

Something flashes in his eyes when he looks at you. Grabbing your arm, he leans in, your heart stops.

Hobie moves past your head to press his forehead on your shoulder. Bathing in your presence, hand squeezing your skin

“Hobie?”

He smiles, moving his hand up to cup your jaw. Chuckling, he cleans his dried blood off your cheek with his thumb. “Do me a favour, Scuttlebutt?”

“What is it? We need to get up there!”

Hobie ignores you, leaning away. “Survive for me would you? Live, find your family. Promise me.” He sniffs, eyes glinting.

“What?”

“Just promise me, trouble.” He shakes you.

“Alright I promise. Can we—”

“I'm sorry.”

“What—?” Hobie pushes you hard, you fall off the steps, landing on your behind, he exits without looking back, shutting the doors closed. “What the fuck?!”

You rattle the doorknob but it's no use, he locked it on the outside. Frustrated, you try to kick in the door, hurting yourself from the hard wood.

“Fuck! Hobie!” You bang the door, peeking through the keyhole you see carnage as Hobie makes quick work of the remaining men. “Let me help!”

The sound of cannon balls going off almost deafens your eardrums. If only you had your lockpick you could open it.

Your lockpick.

It's a stretch but you still run towards your cabin, feet thudding loudly, echoing around the hallways that you've memorized.

You feel relieved after seeing your door. Shouldering it open, you frantically search for the metal on the shelves. The tip of it scratches your hand but you don't care, already bolting off towards the exit. Running off with your bag tied around you, hoping the medical kit inside is enough to treat the wounded, you hold the lockpick in your hand while you run.

Your hope dwindles with every cannon hitting the ship.

Doors whizz past, ankle stinging, the sounds of screams and gunfire makes you sprint faster.

You don't notice the blood soaked hulking man leaving Hobie's cabin.

Running into him, you stagger, tumbling down, heart falling into your stomach as he looks down at you through his nose.

“Hello there.”

Scrambling to get to your feet, you slide under his legs, stabbing his achilles heel with your lockpick. The man screams in agony, you take the opportunity to sprint like you've never ran before. You'd take running away from O’hara any day.

Your lungs scream for you to stop, but you go on as you hear thundering stomping behind you.

There's no exit and you can't run forever.

The metallic click rings behind you, rounding the corner, you barely dodge the bullet aimed at you, nicking your hip.

“Shit!” You almost fall yet you continue on, entering the library, you shut the doors behind you, locking it swiftly.

Lifting your hand away, the sight of your own blood turns your fear into fury. With your trembling hands, you unsheathe the dagger from your belt.

You have a promise to keep, and you never break a promise.

Hiding behind the armchair you always sat on, you crouch down, gripping the dagger, ready to strike like a viper in the sand.

You look back on what she taught you, “Strike fast and hit hard. Don't give them a chance to get back up.” her voice whispers it to you and you intend to follow it.

The door bursts open, splintering the wood to a thousand pieces.

“The captain wants you alive, little birdy. This doesn't have to hurt if you just come with me, eh?” You hear him chuckle lowly, blatantly lying to you.

His heavy footsteps thud closer.

You use the shadows as your guide, the oil lamp left open on the corner table does the work. For once you thank Gwen for forgetting to close the light.

“I can help with your wound. Glue your wings back together again” he whistles. “The red hydra can't help you with that but I can. I'm a surgeon you see.” Getting closer and closer, you time your strike right.

You come out of your hiding place with a battle cry. Still crouches down, “I highly doubt that!” Slicing his tendons in one quick movement. The second he falls to his knees, you stab him in the neck.

Stepping back, he chokes in his own blood. With wide eyes you flinch when he stands, seemingly unaffected but his shaking pupils say otherwise. With a garbled noise from your assailant, he reaches for you.

“What the fuck?!”

With a split second decision, you dodge his hands, moving backwards, throwing books from the shelves which bounce almost harmlessly on his head and body.

There's a loud thrumming sound outside, its warbling is almost mechanical but definitely something an animal could've made.

He heard it too, pausing in his movement for a second before he lunged towards you. With a scream, your back against the corner, he jumps you.

Your head hits the wall in an ugly crunch, seeing stars, sliding down the wall, landing on the floor, he chokes you with his bare hands. Indistinct noises escape from his mouth, your dagger nowhere to be found in his throat. His entire body hides anything in front of you, drowning your vision, filling it with your murderer. His blood drips down on your face, almost drowning you in it.

You know he's running on fumes but based on your vision fading, lungs gasping for air, you think you'd go out first before him.

Hands grazing something metallic on the floor next to you, you inch your fingers towards it. Finally finding your grip, you smack it on his head.

You've got a promise to keep after all.

He yells, the oil from the lamp spreading on his skin and clothes, engulfing him in flames.

You frantically roll away, killing the fire clinging to your clothes until there's nothing left but burned cloth.

The flames light up the entire room in orange and reds, the paper around him helps feed the fire as he tries to desperately put it out.

There's that thrumming again.

You watch on, holding your tender neck. Your face is flat, eyes reflecting the fire that's quickly eating at the man. Fabric burns on his flesh, flesh turns into charred muscle, the fire eats at that too until he falls, silence hanging in the room except for the fire cackling, ashes and flames surrounding his corpse.

You stand up, ratty shoes stepping over fire to grab the fallen dagger with a thick cloth from your bag.

For a second you stand amidst the fire.

The thrumming outside and the warmth wakes you up, flames licking at your clothes, it's heat scorching your skin, nose filling with smoke. Even with all the pain you still escape with your life, determined to keep your promise.

Running outside the former library, the cracking of splintering wood fills your ears, you instinctively dodge, backing away before the mast of the revenge falls on your head.

Shielding your face, you cower. The mast stills, sharp wood lay next to your feet. Tentatively opening your eyes, the sounds from above are clearer in your ears, all the screams and guns going off, you hear it loud and clear that you can decipher whose screams belong to whom.

The fog enters below deck through the gaping hole left by the broken mast. All the while, the smoke from the library rises up, replacing the mist.

Your exit.

You don't hesitate to climb up. Jagged edges of sharp wood rip amd snag your clothes, stabbing your skin. Finding leverage, you manage to prop yourself up on the deck, meeting face to face with a lifeless Ned.

The light in his eyes is gone, unsung music escaping from his open lips. Skin dirtied by flowing ichor.

You don't hear anything else other than skin meeting skin in a brutal dance.

“No.” You quickly jump up, leaving the fire behind you to consume, to devour what's left of the revenge. “Ned?”

Desperately feeling for a pulse, your heart wretches in your throat, saliva filling your mouth, bile rising up from your gut.

There's no pulse.

With a choked sob, you close his eyes for him. The sound of wet punching makes you turn to your side. Hobie's eyes are wild, vicious and desperate, bloodied knuckles pummeling the man under him. Skin broken, nose cracked, skull open for the world to see. Yet, Hobie doesn't stop even with the obvious signs of death. Fueled by rage, he paints the wooden floorboards with the man's brain.

It all feels sickenly real, your heart is still beating in sync with his punches but there's so much death around you that you feel like you're a part of the dead. Blood and smoke filling your senses, adrenaline slowly washed away like the tides.

You're sitting in a graveyard and nobody else has noticed.

“Hobie.”

His fists pound harshly through the man's head, splintered wood now embedded in his skin.

You apprehensively crawl towards him, your various injuries aching, blood seeping out from your hip. The chaos around you still continues on while he still doesn't stop.

“Hobie—” your fingers brush his arm, he flinches back, fist raised to knock you out. But he halts, knuckles kissing the tip of your nose, painting it with crimson.

With wide eyes, he heaves, muscles tensed, grief all over his expression. You shove your fear down, holding his raised knuckles, moving it away gently. You hold his face in your other hand, smearing the fresh ichor on his cheeks, staining your own skin.

“It's done, he's dead.” You nod, caressing his face, turning it away from the carnage below him. “Hobie,” you unclench his fist carefully, shattered bone and hair sticking to him. With a shallow breath, you let the tears flow on your cheeks. “He's dead.”

His face flashes with fury only to be triumphed over by misery. With a heavy heart, he nods.

Behind Hobie, a uniformed man raises his pistol, without a second thought, you take the golden blunderbuss from his waist, hastily aiming it directly at the man's head.

Your ears ring, the smoke from the gun blinds you for a second before you see your target fall dead with a bullet right between his eyes, blood splattering like fireworks from his head.

Hobie looks at you in surprise, taking his gun away from you carefully. Hands soft on your raised skin. He pats your cheek and you could only shake your head.

“We need to—” the ship collides with something, Hobie holds you close, covering you away from debris. With his embrace, he protects you. Scarred hand on the back of your head, face hiding in the crook of your neck. Leather, sea salt and blood invades your senses.

The hellion is once again looming over the revenge, its golden façade cracking under the damage made by Hobie's ship.

Mathias shows himself, looking worse for wear, he wobbles on two feet, clutching his injuries.

You hear footsteps around you, raising your head, eyes widening at what's left of the crew, they stand behind you and Hobie. Wiping blood off their faces, reloading their guns, sharpening their swords. The red sails of the people's revenge still fly above, more than ready to take what they're owed, no matter what it takes.

Gwen's blond hair is dipped in ruby red, hands tight around her blunderbuss. Miles wipes his face clean, stepping next to Gwen with clenched jaw. Pavitr stands directly behind you, face covered in what you hoped to be someone else's blood. He nods, reassuring you.

Yuri and James take one look at Ned, their expression alone could make you weep again. Finn, crouches down next to you, nodding wordlessly, blue eyes glossy.

Hobie exhales, with shaky legs he stands up, helping you back to your feet. Gripping your knife, you scowl at the man above.

“How cute. The power of friendship isn't enough to save you.” Mathias says through gritted teeth.

The rest of his crew arrives, there's less ships than before, proving how the bloodsail pirates is a force to be reckoned with. They have what Mathias doesn't have, giving them something worth fighting for.

Mathias nods, signaling his ship to turn their cannons towards you and your family.

You step in front of Hobie. “I have a proposition!” Yelling above the rain and metallic clanking, you push away Hobie's hand from your shoulder.

“What is it?” The man rolls his eyes, looking incredibly bored. “We can't be here all night.”

“Me,” the crew voices their concerns, Hobie takes your hand, face terrified.

You smile, “it's alright.” Whispering to him and the crew only. With tearful eyes, you turn back to the devil above. “You seem like you really want me, so fucking take me instead. Let them go.”

You feel the heat beneath your feet. The fire devours everything just a few feet below you.

They all yell your name behind you. Protests fill your ears but you choose to ignore them. You feel his calloused fingers squeeze your hand.

The man guffaws, “Holy shit! You like them that much?” He observes Hobie's contorted face.

“You like her that much?” He chuckles. “You know what? I don't even want you that much, sure, get on up here, birdy!”

There's that thrumming and warbling again. It's much clearer now that you're above, it seems like it's coming from beneath the ship.

“Come here and take me then!” The rain mixes in with your salty tears. Raising your arms, shoving everyone away, you taunt him. “But let them go or I'll plunge this dagger through your eye!”

“Christ, you're as insane as him. Perfect for eachother eh?” he sighs, gesturing for his cannons to cease. “I'm already satisfied even though a few of your men escaped from a dinghy but eh, I'm sure I'll get them soon enough. Just like how I'll get you one day, little pirate. I'm a very patient man, I'll wait three more years if I have to.”

Hobie's face is full of anguish when he swivels you around to look at him. “Don't fuckin' do this. He won't keep his word,” he flicks his eyes to Mathias, then back to you, grey eyes darker than before. “the moment you step foot on that ship he'll kill you.” his mind comes back to that fateful day.

He can't let that happen again, not to you.

You look at him softly. “I know, but I'll make it hard for him, that'll give you enough time to escape. Hobie, I have nothing else, just this.” swallowing the lump in your throat, there's heat under your eyes. Taking his hand, you squeeze it once. “Let me do this, for you and for them. You still have to get your revenge so let me do this. Don't let him win.”

“You promised.” His voice cracks.

“I don't think I can keep it now.” You flick your eyes behind him, the crew looks on with grief marring their eyes. “They're too young for this, Gwen, Pav and Miles, they deserve to live too.”

You hear the rope fall from the hellion's deck. “I'm glad I got stuck in that net even though you made me walk the plank.” chuckling through the tears, you give them your best smile to remember you by.

“Don't leave.” he pleads.

Sliding your hand away, you take one last look at them, making a sketch of their faces in your mind to remember when the inevitable happens.

“I have to go now or this won't work.”

The captain has no plan on how to fix it, how to fix everything, and he beats himself bloody for it.

Turning around, with every step you take feels heavier than the last. You make amends to her in your mind, praying that it reaches back home. You also thank her, but you don't regret running away that day.

You'll never know what lies for you up north or if there's someone there waiting for you. If there is someone, you apologize to them too.

You leave traces of yourself to the people behind you with the hope you live on through those pieces. That at least they won't forget your name.

The howling wind and rain whips at your drenched form, committing the feel of it to memory.

Grabbing the rope, you fight the urge to look behind.

“Hurry up, birdy!” Mathias cackles. “Come on then—!”

The thrumming is deafening, everything seems to freeze mid motion.

Giant mounds of flesh rise up from the water. Snake-like features curl above, rising to the heavens, cutting through the grey clouds.

You can't help but be mesmerized by the beauty of it. Iridescent scales glimmer against the lightning, cracked scales teeming in gold. the lightning bolts ricochet off their scaly skin, unharmed.

More serpents appear from the depths, towers of scaled flesh. They rain sea water from above, dripping from their massive bodies.

One curls just above the hellion, opening its eyes, revealing an entire ocean in its orbs.

You can't stop looking at it, petrified.

“Dragons.” You say in awe.

“Y/N!” Hobie races towards you. His hand brushes against your shirt, so close yet so far.

You get yanked up with the hellion, grip still frozen on the ropes. Holding on for life, the beast has curled around the ship, in your peripheral you see men jumping off, splashing down into the depths, taking their chances in the cold.

Facing the creature, they trill and thrum, crushing the hellion and the navy ships in their massive jaws and swirling flesh.

You wake up from the trance they had you in, almost losing your grip off the rope.

“No!” You screech, saving yourself, arm socket straining against your weight. Twirling the rope around your hand, you tie it just like how they taught you.

Palms burning on the hemp, looking down, you're hanging high above the revenge. You watch as the crew frantically unties a dinghy while Hobie and Finn stay behind, they're too far for you to make out what they're doing.

Your only chance is to jump in the water but you know that'll be the end of you.

Water parts for something swimming fast under the water, it moves towards the Revenge. You scream their names in an attempt to warn them.

“Gwen!” Your throat struggles from the screaming. “Brace yourselves!”

The serpent crashes on the starboard side, away from where the small boat hangs. Hobie clings to the remaining mast, knife in his hand. Heart pounding, you watch as Gwen runs towards Hobie, he yells, she shakes her head but in the end she bolts for the dinghy. You nod, hoping she saw that you forgave her.

The beast constricts around the helion, crashing the oak and its gilded carvings in its wrapped body.

You sway in the wind with the serpent’s movements, praying that the rope hangs on to the figure head. The figure head of an angel looks down at you, lifeless eyes observing your slow demise.

This is the end for you, you've never thought you'd be killed by a mythical being turned into reality but here you are, hanging on by a thread, waiting for death to come.

With one last glimpse at the revenge, you see the fire finally reaching above deck. Gwen and the others lower down on the dinghy while Hobie grabs onto a rope, cutting the knot off the steel rings, remembering James' teachings, if he keeps doing that he’ll get yanked up, and with the wild wind, it will surely be a disaster.

You yell his name in a futile attempt to stop his effort at saving you.

Finn raises something in his hands, heaving it over his shoulder.

You sharply turn your head when a snapping sound fills your ears. The hemp untangles, with the rope breaking in the middle, you close your eyes.

The sea serpent lets out a guttural scream, the sound alone sends shivers down your spine. It uncurls around the hellion and you get a glimpse of a sharp harpoon sticking out from its eye.

Falling with the hellion, the serpent's eyes turn from blue to a bloody red, bathing everything in its gaze in crimson. it's the last thing you see before you shut your eyes.

You feel a familiar arm around your middle, looking over your shoulder, you think you've already died.

“I've got you!” Hobie yells, with him carrying you and his hand grasping on the rising rope, he struggles to hold on.

So you help him, wrapping your arm behind him, you hold the rope in the other, face close to his as you two fly above the revenge, swinging and whipping uncontrollably in the storm.

The beast trills, jaw unhinging, its rows of shark like teeth in full display.

“Shit!” Hobie manipulates the rope to swing you two away from its sharp teeth.

It fails to catch you, instead it turns its attention to Finn on the deck.

“Finn! Run!” Your blood curdling scream gets his attention, yet he pays no heed.

But everyone already knows it's too late, with one last fight in him, he raises his harpoon, yelling, meeting the serpent's opened mouth halfway.

It swallows him whole.

You just stare at where Finn once stood, he leaves patches of his ichor on the floor.

The revenge sinks, fire and water engulfing Hobie's home, your home.

“Love!” The name rots in his mouth, it gets you out of your frozen state. “I—”

The last standing mast cracks and breaks apart. You lose your grip on Hobie.

And you fall once again. For a second you fly, eyes peering towards the clearing sky, with white clouds in your vision, you brace for impact.

“MJ!”

That's the last thing you hear as you fall in the depths in a harsh splash.

A/N: so sorry for the late update!! Hope you like it 🫶 (if i forgot to put any warnings on the tags please tell me)

[estapa-edwards]

CAPTIVATED - N. HISCHIER

paring: Nico Hischier x reader

word count: 1.3k

requested? yes - nico having fallen in love with a girl he saw dancing on a stage one day… what he didn’t know was it was his new teammates little sister timo

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

As the pulsating rhythm of the arena music reverberated through the air, I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins. The spotlight illuminated the stage, casting shadows that danced around me as I moved to the beat. Each step, each twirl was a symphony of motion, a celebration of life in its purest form. Little did I know that amidst the cheering crowd and flashing lights, destiny was about to weave its intricate threads around my heart.

I live for the thrill of the dance. But on that fateful night, as I lost myself in the music, little did I realize that my world was about to collide with that of Nico Hischier, the captain of the New Jersey Devils.

Nico was more than just a hockey player; he was the epitome of leadership and dedication. His presence on the ice commanded respect, his determination driving the team forward even in the face of adversity. And yet, beneath that steely exterior, there was a warmth in his eyes that spoke of kindness and compassion.

--

As fate would have it, Nico found himself in the audience that night, drawn to the spectacle unfolding on stage. And amidst the sea of faces, his gaze found mine, locking in a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity. In that instant, I felt a connection—a spark of recognition that transcended words.

For Nico, it was like being struck by lightning—a sudden jolt of electricity that sent his heart into a frenzy. He had seen many beautiful sights in his life, but none had captivated him quite like the girl on stage. Little did he know that she would soon become more than just a fleeting memory.

After the performance, Nico found himself unable to shake the image of the mysterious dancer from his mind. He knew he had to find her, to unravel the enigma that had taken hold of his thoughts. And so, with determination in his heart, he set out to discover the identity of the girl who had stolen his breath away

Nico's quest to find the mysterious dancer consumed his thoughts day and night. Despite scouring social media platforms and reaching out to friends and acquaintances, he found himself hitting dead ends at every turn. The enigma of the girl who had captivated him remained unsolved, a puzzle that seemed destined to elude him.

Days turned into weeks, and still, Nico's search yielded no results. Doubt began to creep into his mind, whispering words of frustration and despair. Perhaps she was just a figment of his imagination, a fleeting illusion that had vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

--

But just when Nico was on the brink of giving up hope, fate intervened in the most unexpected of ways. It was a typical day at practice for the Devils, the sound of skates slicing through the ice echoing through the arena. Nico was lost in the rhythm of the game, his mind focused on the task at hand, when suddenly, he saw her.

There, standing on the sidelines, was the girl from his dreams—the mysterious dancer who had haunted his thoughts for weeks on end. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Nico's heart pounded in his chest. He couldn't believe his eyes, couldn't comprehend the reality of what he was seeing. As Nico's gaze fixated on the familiar figure approaching Timo, confusion mingled with disbelief. It was as though the universe had conspired to bring her into his path once again, yet the circumstances left him utterly bewildered.

Timo's expression lit up as he embraced the approaching girl, a smile stretching across his face. It was a sight that Nico couldn't tear his eyes away from, his mind racing to make sense of the unexpected encounter.

In that moment, a torrent of emotions surged through Nico's veins—hope, disbelief, and a profound sense of longing. He wanted to reach out to her, to bridge the gap that separated them, but uncertainty held him back.

As Timo and the girl engaged in animated conversation, Nico observed from a distance, his heart heavy with unspoken questions. Who was she to Timo? How had their paths crossed once more? And most importantly, why did she feel so familiar, as though she had been a part of his life all along?

Despite the flood of uncertainty that threatened to overwhelm him, Nico couldn't deny the magnetic pull drawing him towards her. With each step she took, she seemed to come alive in his mind—a vision of beauty and grace that left him breathless.

And as he watched her laugh and smile, a flicker of recognition sparked in Nico's heart. It was as though he had known her all along, as though their souls were intertwined in a dance as old as time itself.

With determination burning in his veins, Nico made his way towards Timo and the girl, his footsteps echoing in the cavernous space of the arena. He knew that he couldn't let this opportunity slip away—that fate had brought them together once more for a reason.

As he approached, Timo turned to greet him with a grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Hey, Nico! I want you to meet someone special," he said, gesturing towards the girl at his side.

Nico's heart skipped a beat as he met her gaze, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place with startling clarity. She was the girl from his dreams—the mysterious dancer who had captured his heart with a single glance. 

“Nico, this is my sister, Y/n.”

As Timo uttered those words, everything seemed to click into place for Nico. The pieces of the puzzle finally fell into alignment, and he found himself staring at Y/N with a mixture of awe and disbelief.

"Y/N," he repeated her name, the syllables rolling off his tongue with a sense of familiarity that sent shivers down his spine. It was as though he had known her all along, as though she had been the missing piece of his life's puzzle.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as she met Nico's gaze, a flicker of recognition passing between them. It was a moment of profound revelation—a realization that their paths had been destined to intertwine from the very beginning.

For Nico, it was as though a weight had been lifted from his shoulders—a burden of uncertainty and doubt that had plagued him for weeks on end. Here, in front of him, stood the girl who had captured his heart with a single glance, his soulmate in every sense of the word.

As they stood there, bathed in the glow of the arena lights, a sense of peace settled over Nico's heart. He knew that he had finally found what he had been searching for. 

--

As Timo introduced her to Nico, Y/N's heart skipped a beat. She couldn't deny the rush of excitement and nervousness that surged through her veins at the sight of the captain of the New Jersey Devils standing before her. But as she looked into Nico's eyes, something shifted within her—a sense of familiarity and connection that she couldn't quite explain.

When Nico repeated her name, Y/N felt a jolt of recognition shoot through her, as though she had been waiting for him her entire life. His voice was like music to her ears, resonating deep within her soul with a sense of belonging that she had never known before.

As their eyes met, a silent understanding passed between them—a shared recognition of the bond that bound their hearts together. It was as though they had known each other in another lifetime, their souls drawn together by an invisible thread that refused to be broken.

In that moment, Y/N felt a weight lift from her shoulders—a burden of loneliness and longing that had weighed her down for far too long. Here, in front of her, stood Nico Hischier, the man who had captured her heart with a single glance, her soulmate in every sense of the word.

As they stood there, bathed in the soft glow of the arena lights, Y/N felt a sense of peace settle over her heart. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that she had finally found what she had been searching for—a love that transcended time and space, a love that would endure for all eternity.

[milksnake-tea]

━━ homecoming.

He was always your favorite, ever since the day you'd found him. But you knew you couldn't keep him forever. One day, he would have to leave.

merman!blade x gn!reader

contains: fluff, hurt/comfort, a smudge of angst, blade is a little shit, reader is a scientist, potentially ooc blade, a hint of abandonment issues, making out (but nothing suggestive), not edited we die like jing liu, written before version 1.1

word count: 1.7k

a/n: posting this on the last day of mermay because ofc i am (im pst so shhh its not june yet). anyways merman blade is the most genius thing i have ever thought of no one will convince me otherwise

Your research facility was unlike any other in the world.

The hallways were enshrouded in darkness, with the only light sources being the illuminated tanks that lined the walls. They varied in size and shape, some cylindrical, others rectangular. Some tanks were lucky enough to have entire biomes in them, ranging from gorgeous coral reefs to murky kelp forests, and some had nothing in them at all. But what every tank had in common was an eerie glow of cyan that pulsated throughout their waters.

As you walked past the exhibits - your footsteps echoing loudly throughout the empty halls - your specimen began to unravel to life.

Electric eels sparked with lightning as you passed, and beside them, gigantic sea serpents hissed and coiled. Grindylows peeked from behind their forests, and jellyfish of all forms drifted aimlessly through their tanks. An eye the size of a soccer ball watched you from the largest exhibit of all, the giant squid thrilled to see its master.

This institute was home to mythology and biology alike, where fables rested alongside common knowledge. Here, in the middle of nowhere, with no land in sight, you were in the eye of the storm - vulnerable to the truths behind old sailors’ tales.

Despite this, you loved your job more than anything. These creatures that you studied, that you nurtured and raised, were like your children. Even the various hippocampi (who you didn’t have the heart to keep within your walls), were dear to you, and you to them.

Yes, there was the occasional sea monster that you had to shoot down. Yes, there were the occasional sirens who would try to lure you to your death. Most of the ocean’s creatures were dangerous, and well aware of it. Unfortunately, you were too smart and too stubborn to die.

A sharp tap on glass snapped you out of your thoughts. Smiling knowingly to yourself, you walked up to a cylindrical glass tank that spanned two stories tall, encircled by spiraling stairs.

“Hey, Blade. Missed me?” You greeted, placing a hand on the glass.

Out of all of the creatures that you held within your home, he was your favorite.

He really was a beauty. Gifted with a slender black tail, seared with a vicious red, the merman swayed gently in his tank, sleek, almost sharp fins flowing around him. Blackened scales gave way to fair skin, scarred with scratches and bites from previous battles. His hair billowed around him like a dark cloud, fading from black to a soft maroon.

You'd found Blade a few weeks ago, bleeding out in the coral reefs surrounding your little island of a facility. He’d likely gotten into a fight with other merpeople, as the more territorial ones tended to do. Even now, the wounds hadn’t completely healed, with bandages still wrapped around his abdomen.

Blade’s ever-cold face barely budged at your greeting. The second your hand met his tank, he backed away, swimming up towards the top of his tank - naturally expecting you to follow. You sighed, shaking your head knowingly.

By the time you had climbed the staircase to the top, Blade was already lounging on the stairs leading into his waters. His wet hair clung to his body as he watched you expectantly, his tail flicking small waves into motion. Sunlight cascaded over him from a glass ceiling, bathing him in a gentle light.

“You’re late.” His eyes never left your body as you neared him, eyeing you like a hungry predator.

You dropped your bag off some counter lining the walls. “I was dealing with the new shipments.”

“Oh? Am I finally getting some company?” Blade asked sarcastically, stretching like a cat in the warm sun. You don’t think it was an accident that he rolled over, shamelessly showing off his sculpted abdomen.

“Like I could just order a merman off the web,” you scoffed, sitting next to him and dipping your legs into the tank. “You’re just a special case.”

He didn’t respond to that, merely watches you with an emotion that you can’t quite pinpoint. Knowing him, it could be anything from warm affection to a mischievous desire to inconvenience you by the slightest amount. He was petty like that.

Briefly, his tail came to brush against your legs. You giggled at the action, the thin fins ticklish against your skin. A flicker of a smile flashed across Blade’s face, gone just as fast as it had appeared.

“How are your wounds?” you asked, your hand absentmindedly coming to pet his head. Where Blade would have bitten anyone else, the merman keened at the touch, closing his eyes briefly.

“Better.” His voice was barely above a whisper as you threaded your fingers through his wet hair.

“That’s good. No pain?”

“None,” he answered. As you removed your hand, for a moment, he chased it, before he met your teasing eyes and remembered himself. Coughing, he quickly turned away, refusing to meet your amused gaze.

“At this rate, you’ll be leaving sooner than expected,” you hummed. Blade’s eyes widened at your words, an unfamiliar pang hitting his chest. “I’m sure you’ve been missing your friends.”

Blade scoffed at the notion, rolling back onto his chest to stare at the floor. “Hardly.”

“Well,” you shrugged, kicking up some water. “At the very least, you’d miss the open waters.”

That, he couldn’t deny. But even still, the thought of finally leaving the facility had become foreign to him. Three weeks prior, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to get out of this place, this tank. But now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Hey, chin up.” Your hand cupped his cheek, bringing him to look up at you. “It’s not like you’ll never see me again. You can always visit.”

He doubted that. Out in the ocean, he had little free time to himself. He would spend his days constantly on the run from various mermaid kingdoms and tribes, and if not that, he’d be hunting, searching for his next meal. He journeyed the seas without end. Blade was a vagrant, a wanderer without a home.

But here, perhaps…

His body moved without thinking. Pushing himself up onto his arms, he leaned over you, water droplets falling onto your shirt as he caged you between his arms. His gaze had become hazy, his eyes lidded. His breath shuddered in his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, drinking in as much of you as he could.

Blade didn’t say much, but he didn’t have to. You heard his words loud and clear, without him needing to say a word.

Stay.

It was unclear who he was talking to, whether it be you or himself. There was a subtle desperation in the way his chest heaved as he breathed, breathless without a thief.

Your arms, your welcoming arms, wrapped around his shoulders like a warm blanket, bringing him in for an embrace. Immediately, he latched onto the opportunity, gripping onto you as though you’d disappear if he dared loosen his grip. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, forever engraving it into his memory.

If only he was human, he’d lament. If only he could walk the lands like you did. If only the two of you weren’t separated by land and sea. If only - his grip became just a little tighter - he could stay like this a little longer.

You stroke the back of his head gently, feeling Blade shiver at your touch. He wasn’t crying - you didn’t know if he even remembered how.

Deep inside, you wanted him to stay. You didn’t want to let him go. It was an ugly, selfish part of you that wanted to keep him for yourself. But you knew you couldn't keep him here. He had to return to the ocean, where he belonged.

He pulled away from you, yet still held onto your arms like a lifeline. You never thought you’d describe the stoic merman as desperate, but there was no other word that could properly depict the emotion swirling in his eyes.

Your hands came to cradle his face gently, unable to say a word. Blade’s breath hitched.

His lips barely parted as he spoke, his voice raspy and low.

“Forgive me.”

That was the only warning you got before he crashed his lips into yours.

His kiss was unlike any other you’ve had. Whereas your previous experiences were tender and romantic, this was hungry, raw, depraved. Blade kissed you with the fervor of a starving man, as though you would be his final meal. He was aggressive with his affections, practically clawing onto your shirt as he clutched you closer to him.

Your heart raced in your chest as you met his violent dance, parting your lips for a moment to allow him to slip in his tongue. You welcomed him in, firmly holding his face. Emotions swirled in you like the blurred voices of a crowd, overwhelming and satiating you at the same time.

To say that you were surprised by his actions would be a lie. You’ve known his feelings for a while now, and had plenty of time to accept yours. It was obvious, in the gentlest touches, in the way he could make you smile just by being around you.

You’ve avoided acknowledging these feelings for the longest time, and so did he.

When the two of you finally parted, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, the only thing you could do was watch. You studied Blade’s face, clearly now, for the first time. Your fingers traced around his jawline, admiring how his cheeks had become dyed with a pretty red. You swiped over his parted lips, still catching his breath from the kiss. Your thumb rubbed just underneath his eyes, brushing away the loose strands of hair from his face.

You’ve always known he was a beauty, but in this moment, he simply took your breath away.

Blade covered your hand in his, nuzzling into your palm. He softly pressed his lips to your inner wrist, a stark contrast from the kiss he’d just ravaged you with. He kept his eyes solely on you as he did this, trapping your gaze with his stare.

“I’m not leaving.”

“Huh?” You blinked, trying to snap yourself out of your daze. Blade smirked against your palm, swiping out his tongue and dragging it against your skin.

“Come, now,” he mused. “You didn’t think you could get rid of me that easily, did you?”

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[lllluffyvert]

It happens in the blink of an eye. Sunny skies are darkened by menacing storm clouds, and calm waters turn into monstrous waves that smash into the Going Merry, violently rocking the ship and sending its passengers flying.

Nami is shouting frantically, but her words are drowned out by the deafening roar of the wind and booming thunder. Lightning strikes, and in the fraction of a second that it illuminates the world around them, Zoro catches a glimpse of Nami’s horrified expression as she points towards the bow of the ship.

“-overboard!”

It’s the only word Zoro hears, and dread pools in the pit of his stomach as he realizes its meaning.

Luffy.

Without a moment’s thought for his own safety, Zoro leaps over the ship’s railing and dives into the ferocious sea. It’s bitingly cold and a shock to his senses, but he recovers quickly and swims down against the push and pull of the waves.

The water is nearly black as pitch, making it hard to orient himself. His lungs begin to burn with the need for oxygen, but he can’t fucking find Luffy. He searches desperately until he’s forced to come up for air, calling out for his captain in between gasping breaths.

Lightning flashes, and there, riding atop the next wave is a familiar straw hat. A rush of adrenaline pumps in his veins and Zoro swims harder than he ever has, until he reaches his captain's prized possession, tying it securely around his arm before he takes a deep breath and dives beneath the surface.

The seconds feel like hours and his muscles are screaming, but finally he spots the bright, floral pattern of Luffy’s Hawaiian shirt. He’s sunk nearly to the ocean floor, completely unresponsive to Zoro, who grabs hold of him and pulls him up until they’ve broken the surface.

The storm rages on around them, and Zoro holds onto Luffy for all that he’s worth as they’re slammed by wave after wave and swallowed up by the inky black sea.

-

Zoro stirs and feels cool sand shift beneath him, soothing to his skin which burns under blistering rays of sun. His head pounds dully, his mouth is bone-dry, and it takes him a long second to gather his bearings before it all comes rushing back and he jumps to his feet, eyes frantically scanning the bank until he catches sight of Luffy only a few yards to his right, and relief washes over him. The feeling is short-lived, however, when he realizes that Luffy isn’t moving but lying prone and uncharacteristically silent.

Zoro stumbles towards him, panic coiling in his gut as he drops to his knees and carefully turns Luffy onto his back, gently brushing the sand from his face.

“C’mon Luf. Wake up.” He pats Luffy’s cheeks in a futile effort to arouse him, and when that doesn’t work, he slides his arm underneath his captain’s neck and lifts him, shaking his shoulders with a bit of force. “Luffy, wake up. C’mon, you’re okay.”

Luffy’s head lolls lifelessly. His breathing is ragged and shallow, and his normally bronzed, sun-kissed complexion is unnaturally pale.

Zoro cradles Luffy to his chest and wishes Chopper were here, and tries to imagine what the doctor would do in this situation. Check for injuries, probably. Find the root of the problem. Yeah, that was a good start.

Zoro looks over Luffy’s arms, his legs, pulls aside his water-logged shirt and checks his stomach and back. Minor scrapes here, a few bruises there, but nothing he wouldn’t usually bounce back from. He thinks about the possibility of an internal injury, and curses vehemently under his breath, feeling woefully inadequate.

He does the next best thing that comes to mind, scooping his captain into his arms gingerly and making towards the tree line, into the shade and away from the water and burning sun. They’d washed up on a relatively small, crescent shaped island, only a few yards of white sand away from dense, tropical foliage that was several degrees cooler than the beach. The grass under Zoro’s boots was soft from recent rain, and he carefully sets Luffy down on a large patch, taking a minute to brush the sweaty curls from his forehead and rest his palm there like he’d seen Chopper do before. It’s searing to the touch and beaded with sweat. Fuck.

Okay. Think. Zoro wracks his brain. He remembers when Nami was sick, how Vivi had her wrapped up warm, but also kept a cold cloth to her face. He removes his bandana and jogs back to the beach, dips it in the cold sea water and rings it out before folding it and placing it tenderly on Luffy’s forehead, letting his fingers trace lightly over his captain’s flushed cheek.

“I’ll be right back, Luf,” he says quietly, standing and reaching for his swords. He doesn’t have a blanket, so starting a fire sounded like the best alternative, and with a quick series of effortless swipes he has a pile of firewood big enough to last the night. Doing things survival-style is definitely in his wheelhouse, and it doesn’t take long before he has a decent fire going, and he uses some of the extra logs to build a small lean-to over where Luffy lay.

He checks on his captain, gauging his temperature again and grimacing when Luffy shivers despite being soaked with sweat. He considers their damp clothing and decides to strip their shirts to hang over the flames. His hands hesitate over Luffy’s chest, and he mumbles an awkward apology before gently removing the garment, wishing he had something to wrap around him while the shirts dried and hoping the lean-to would retain enough of the fire’s heat to suffice in the meantime.

“Hang in there, Captain,” he murmurs, and combs his fingers through Luffy’s hair.

Fire, check. Shelter, check. Next up, food and clean water. Finding both is a simple matter, and Zoro is thankful for the island's small perimeter as he returns to their little camp with a couple of rabbits and a flask of crystal clear water from a near-by trickling stream. It was a miracle that the ocean hadn’t stolen the flask of rum from where he’d had it tucked into his waistband, and a bit of a shame he had to pour it out to fill with water instead, though not before taking one last swig. He figured he had a long night ahead of him.

Their shirts are dry and warm by the time he returns, and he wraps Luffy’s around him snugly before slipping gratefully into his own. The sun has begun to dip below the horizon and a chill settles over the island. Zoro dresses the rabbits and lets them slow-roast over the crackling fire before dropping to the ground beside Luffy, suddenly exhausted.

He blinks bleary eyes and pinches himself to stay awake, at least long enough to make sure Luffy gets something to eat. He watches the sparks from the fire until the rabbits are cooked through, removes them from the spit and tears the tender meat into bite sized pieces. Done with that, he gently pulls Luffy into his lap, props his head on his shoulder and tries to feed him some of the rabbit, concern growing sharply when Luffy’s nose scrunches in revulsion and he turns his head away, choosing instead to bury his face in Zoro’s chest.

It was absolutely unheard of for Luffy, of all people, to reject food, and so to see him like this now rang alarm bells in Zoro’s head. He feels an oncoming migraine.

“You gotta eat something, Luf,” he pleads. “You’ll feel better afterwards.”

“‘M cold.”

It’s the first thing Luffy has said since they washed up on the island, and Zoro’s heart aches at how pitiful the barely whispered words sound from his usually loud and chipper captain. He sets the food down, leans back against the wood frame of the makeshift shelter and wraps his arms around Luffy, holding him close and doing his best to warm him. Luffy’s labored breathing eases some, and he melts into the embrace, a softly whispered “Zoro” spilling from his lips before he passes out.

Zoro props his chin atop his captain’s soft, dark curls, closes his heavy eyes and falls asleep.

-

Zoro wakes to the sound of footsteps and instinctively reaches for his sword, remembers Luffy in his lap and curls around him protectively with Wado Ichimonji pointed menacingly in the direction of whoever was rapidly approaching their camp.

“Found you!” Chopper bursts from the bushes and excitedly bounds over to them with a huge grin, until his eyes fall to Luffy, unconscious and sweaty in the crook of Zoro’s arm, and his expression is stricken. “W–what happened to Luffy?!”

Zoro had dropped his sword the moment Chopper hopped into view, overwhelmed with relief at the sight of the doctor. “I don’t know,” he says. He picks up the sword, sheathes it, and stands, cradles Luffy to his chest and looks Chopper square in the face. “But I know you can fix it.”

His words are spoken with complete confidence. Chopper nods solemnly and Zoro follows the doctor back to the Going Merry.

The other members of the Straw Hats meet them on the beach, and they instantly crowd around Zoro and Luffy, each of them exclaiming the same questions simultaneously.

“What happened to Luffy?!”

“Are you okay?!”

“I don’t know,” Zoro repeats, “And I’m fine.” He walks past them in quick strides to keep up with Chopper, pulling Luffy ever closer to his chest, suddenly loath to let him go as he boards the ship. In the medical bay, he carefully lays his captain on the bed, takes a step back, and feels distinctively colder.

Chopper bustles around him, hastily gathering various glass bottles and a mixing bowl before shooing Zoro from the room.

“I do my best work alone,” he says apologetically, and closes the door in Zoro’s face.

Zoro sighs, and then stiffens as the weight of the other crew member’s gazes hits him. He turns and finds Nami, Sanji, and Usopp staring at him expectantly.

He fills them in, omitting some unnecessary details.

“He didn’t want to eat?” Nami anxiously bites her nails and looks to the med-bay door.

“Let’s not worry until Chopper says to worry, Nami,” comforts Sanji.

As much as Zoro hates to agree with the cook, he has a point. Chopper was damn good at his job, and Zoro had total faith in his abilities. With this in mind, he looks to Sanji and says:

“I’m fucking starving.”

-

It’s a few hours before Chopper clops into the kitchen, looking tired but happy. Zoro’s shoulders sag as any concerns are alleviated.

“He’s sleeping now,” says the doctor, and he smiles at Zoro. “Good job keeping his temperature stable.”

Feeling strangely embarrassed, Zoro simply nods in reply.

“So,” Usopp prompts, “What was it?”

“Poison,” Chopper says, “From a species of native octopus.” He shakes his head, suddenly serious. “Another two days could’ve been fatal.”

“But he’s fine?” Nami asks, brows furrowed.

“Yes,” Chopper assures them. He turns to Sanji and grins. “And he’ll be hungry when he wakes up.”

“Aye aye, a feast for le Capitaine.” Sanji lights a cigarette, rolls up his sleeves and flashily spins a gleaming butcher’s knife on the tip of his finger. “Leave it to me.”

Zoro debates asking Chopper to let him see Luffy, but decides to remain silent. Instead, he takes another sip of rum and resigns himself to waiting.

-

His resolve only lasts a few hours. It’s close to midnight when he stalks silently past his sleeping crewmates and steps into the med-bay, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He’d been feeling restless, uncomfortable in his hammock and Luffy the only thing on his mind.

He pulls a chair up in front of the bed and sits, watching his captain’s chest rise and fall with deep, steady breaths. He’s even snoring, and Zoro admires his peaceful expression, his parted lips and rosy cheeks framed by long, dark eyelashes. He picks up Luffy’s hand and kisses each one of his fingers reverently, offering a silent, thankful prayer to the gods for Chopper and his unmatched medical skills.

Luffy suddenly stirs, turning his head towards Zoro, who immediately goes still.

“Zoro,” Luffy’s eyes light up at the sight of his first mate, and his sleepy smile is one of the prettiest sights Zoro thinks he’s ever seen.

“Go back to sleep, Luf,” he says softly, his voice heavy with affection. He brazenly kisses the top of Luffy’s hand, and his captain giggles quietly, a sound Zoro could happily listen to for the rest of his days.

“Okay,” Luffy agrees, and then he’s scooting over and lifting the blanket invitingly, looking up at Zoro with those big, brown eyes, and who is he to deny his captain?

“You’re supposed to be getting some rest,” Zoro says even as he slides into the bed, pulling Luffy close and wrapping his arms around him, their faces mere centimeters apart.

“I am,” Luffy replies, warm breath puffing against Zoro’s chin and his eyes twinkling even in the dark. “I sleep better when you’re around.”

He says it so easily, so honestly, and Zoro can’t help himself. He closes the short distance between them and captures Luffy’s lips in a tender kiss.

“I thought I needed rest,” Luffy says breathlessly when Zoro finally pulls back for air. He’s smiling though, and his eyes are filled with mirth. Zoro just hums in reply, and peppers Luffy’s cheeks and nose with feather-light kisses, reveling in his captain’s muffled, giddy laughter and wondering what other noises he could draw from him. A dangerous thought, considering his current position; Luffy flush against him, warm and pliant under his touch. He almost groans, burying his face in his captain’s soft curls and breathing in the sea-salt scent of him.

“Zoro.” The way Luffy whispers his name is almost too much for him to bear. “Thank you for saving me.”

“That was Chopper,” Zoro replies against Luffy’s hair. Luffy pushes him back slightly and looks him square in the face.

“It was you, too,” he says seriously. “You jumped in for me.”

“Always,” Zoro says, meaning it with every fiber of his being. His fingers trace the smooth curve of Luffy’s cheek, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear and leaning in to kiss the flushed skin there.

The simplicity of his reply has Luffy smiling again, and this time it’s he who kisses Zoro, a little peck at the corner of his lips. The sweet gesture effectively unravels Zoro’s resolve, breaking him down to the point where words are pointless and only actions have meaning.

His hands are gentle only ever for his captain, his fingers lightly caressing the exposed skin of Luffy’s chest and his lips against his neck, kissing a line up to his ear and nibbling at the lobe. Simmering embers in the pit of his stomach burn hotter when Luffy responds to his touch with a contented sigh and he cranes his neck, revealing more skin for Zoro to appreciate, which he does with unrestrained enthusiasm.

“Luffy,” Zoro murmurs his captain’s name reverently, his hands moving to cup Luffy’s cheeks and he kisses him fervently, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and biting down lightly, tonguing at the shallow puncture marks his teeth leave on the velvety skin there. Luffy makes another small noise that Zoro swallows up and he wraps his arms around Zoro’s neck, returning the kiss, his eyes screwed shut and his nose scrunched adorably.

Zoro can’t get enough. He slows their tempo, his mouth slotting against Luffy’s deliberately, taking his time to taste and smell and touch. His thumbs swipe over Luffy’s flushed skin and he pulls back to gaze at him fondly, feeling rather smug that the dazed expression on his captain’s face was his doing.

“Let’s get you something to eat,” he says, each word punctuated by a quick, affectionate kiss to Luffy’s face, leaning in close to whisper in his ear, licking the shell suggestively. “And continue this later.”

Luffy shivers and nods, perking up at the mention of food and practically bouncing out of the bed with a toothy smile, sparkling eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes Zoro’s hand in his own. He skips cheerfully to the kitchen, humming a little ditty and dragging Zoro along with him. Zoro watches the way his captain’s smile brightens at the sight of the other Straw Hats, who’ve jumped from their beds and come running at the sound of his song, and he thinks he would gladly follow Luffy to the ends of the earth.

[causeimhappinesss]

His baby mama, part 2 (Corey Cunningham x reader)

PART 1

Pairing: Corey Cunningham x reader Warning: kidnapping Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language (I’m french), so you can correct me if you spot some mistakes :) + it’s gonna be a short story, so don’t seek a full development as you would in a novel

---

When you open your eyes, a thick veil of unconsciousness dissipates, revealing a dark room. Your head spins and your limbs feel numb with a strange sensation that sends shivers through your whole body, amplified by the coolness of the surroundings. Suddenly, you realize you’re in your basement. You try to move, but your movements are hindered by tight restraints that hold you to a dusty old mattress in a sea of forgotten boxes. Your hands are tied with a thick rope. Actually, it’s not tight enough, you can move a little, but it’s still reassuring.

What happened...?

Memories of yesterday come flooding back. Terror wells up inside you, a venomous snake wrapping itself around your heart and choking you. Why are you here? Where’s your baby? Panic overtakes you as you frantically search for answers, your eyes feverishly searching the dark corners of the cellar for a clue, a way out.

And then, like lightning in a storm, you see it. Your daughter, your precious treasure, sleeping peacefully in her crib beside you, oblivious to the threat in the air. A sigh of relief escapes your lips, though your anguish continues to clench your throat and twist your stomach. You lean over her and slide a hand over her soft tummy. She seems to be doing just fine. He hasn’t hurt her. More surprisingly, he didn’t kill you... That’s not Michael Myers modus operandi. So… why are you here? What does he want with you? The questions swirl around in your head and gnaw at your insides, without you understanding what’s going on.

Your trembling fingers slowly move up to touch the soft skin of her little hand. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize how vulnerable she is, how you’re both at the mercy of the surrounding darkness... At the mercy of a madman. You’re not stupid enough to believe that if you open the basement door, it will open and you’ll get on with your life as before. As if reading your mind, the creak of the sinister door pierces the silence. Your hair stands on end. Your heart misses a beat. The door opens slowly, revealing a menacing shadow. Your breath freezes in your throat and acid reflux surges up your throat, burning your windpipe.

And there, in the doorway, you see him. Michael Myers. His empty, dark gaze pierces you. He represents a silent threat that chills you to the bone. Fear paralyzes you and your limbs are refusing to answer to your desperate orders to flee.

You’re a prisoner in your own home, at the mercy of a faceless monster bent on your destruction. You feel your strength ebbing away, hope flickering in the darkness as you realize that you’re alone, powerless against the unspeakable horror befalling you.

The flickering light from the basement illuminates a strange figure, a man in a boogeyman mask standing there motionless, like a specter straight out of your darkest nightmares. You don’t understand, none of this makes sense. Your heart pounds in your chest as you instinctively step back, your baby in the crib next to you, a fragile barrier between you and this terrifying intruder.

"What do you want?" Your voice slightly shakes and you’re certain he can sense your fear... Like the wild animal he is.

The man doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze hidden behind the inexpressive mask of a boogeyman. He slowly moves in your direction, as his footsteps sinisterly echo in the room. You stand over the cradle, protective, ready to do anything to defend your child from this unspeakable threat... If you have to be stabbed 15 or 16 times like he did Judith to save her, you’ll do it. She’s the most precious thing in the world to you.

"What do you want?" you asked again, in a sharper tone.

Silence.

Annoyed, you grab the first thing that comes to hand – a box of condoms forgotten on a dusty shelf – and throw it at the masked man. He barely catches it before it hits his latex mask. He drops the condoms to the floor and slowly removes the serial killer’s mask. Your eyes widen. You think you’re dreaming. It’s impossible, isn’t it? You almost choke on your saliva. You’ve never been so disturbed in your life, so much so that your whole being is shaking like a leaf.

Corey.

Your ex, the father of your daughter.

The man you loved and still love.

"Corey?" you whisper, stunned, as if you were in a bad dream.

He looks at you with his dark eyes, reflecting a pain you can’t understand, beyond anything you could imagine. For the first time, you perceive something different… As if he’s not quite the nice guy you used to date.

"I’m sorry," he murmurs at last, his voice little more than a whisper.

You stand there, petrified, unable to move as the pieces of the puzzle begin to fall into place in your jumbled mind. Why is he there? Why is he covered in blood? Could it be that he’s usurped the notorious serial killer’s name for revenge…? Revenge on whom? So many questions loop in your mind.

"Corey, what happened?"

Your words are barely audible, a desperate plea in the oppressive darkness. He looks away, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his invisible burden.

"I need to talk to you…"

In the suffocating atmosphere, the echo of your breaths intermingles, in a song of fear and confusion. Corey stands before you, still in a menacingly silhouette, his piercing gaze on you… the gaze of a killer.

"We’re together now and no one can separate us," he declares in a deep voice, each syllable falling like a stab into your already wounded heart.

You stare at him, incredulous, unable to understand how events could have taken such a turn. Allyson, his girlfriend, a mere puppet in a game with rules you didn’t catch. Confusion fills you, mixed with a hint of dread, as you desperately try to make sense of it all.

“Corey, what are you talking about?" you gasp, your voice trembling.

He sneers, a cold sound devoid of any humanity.

"Allyson has been nothing but a pawn," he repeats, a touch of disdain tinting his words.

Your eyebrows furrow, your thoughts intertwining in a swirl of confusion and distrust.

"What do you mean?" you ask, anxiety tightening your throat like a vise.

Suddenly, Corey comes closer, his gaze anchored in yours. His hand firmly grasps your chin, forcing you to keep your gaze in his. A flush of panic rises in you, aware that a completely different man is standing in front of you right now… If only you could bring back the old Corey. Now he’s looking at you, as if he’s trying to read your soul, as if he likes to see the fear on your face.

"I hated the idea of you separating me from our daughter," he whispers. "You never gave me a chance."

You hold your breath, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic tumult as his words echo in your mind.

"You didn’t want to assume your paternity and you told me to get an abortion…" you retort, in a tone full of bitterness.

He glances down at the cradle where your daughter rests peacefully, her little arms waving in the air as she chirps, a sign that she’s just woken up to the sounds of your discussion. With a surprising delicacy, Corey takes her in his arms, and presses her against his chest, without hurting her, all of this with a gleam of tenderness in his eyes. One of his hands strokes your daughter’s curls, so similar to his own, then he presses a kiss to her forehead.

Something tells you that a new chapter is opening, charged with mystery and danger, but also with a glimmer of hope... Not forgetting the element of uncertainty.

However, the basement seems to shrink around you, its walls becoming oppressive, threatening to crush you. Corey is still standing in front of you, but he’s putting the baby back in the cradle. On the other hand, your struggle against the bonds holding you captive, icy anguish gripping your heart with its claws.

"Untie me, please," you beg in a trembling voice.

Corey shakes his head, a shadow of distrust hovering in his dark eyes.

"You’ll run," he declares in a calm but resolute voice, each word weighing like a silent condemnation.

You frown, your frustration mixed with a hint of anger.

"Why would I run away? I don’t understand you," you protest, a note of incredulity piercing your fragile voice. A beautiful lie you hope to serve him on a gold platter, but you both know very well why. You suspect he killed people that Halloween night. Something dangerous has awakened in him.

He scrutinizes you with his inscrutable gaze. Then, in a voice devoid of any empathy, he lets slip the brutal truth behind his mask of apparent calm.

"I killed my mother", he reveals coldly, his words reverberating in the heavy cellar air like echoes of doom. "She got what she deserved. And Ronald… Ronald was killed by some kids I wanted to eliminate. They threw me off a bridge a few days ago. Fortunately, I got them all, one by one… Their deaths were equivalent to their degree of involvement in my torment."

He smirks, then snicker. A shiver of fear rips through your spine and you wince as best you can. How can he announce such a thing so lightly? A wave of horror washes over you, a deadly embrace that compresses your chest and suffocates every part of your being. Your breath catches in your throat and your eyes mist with tears. This isn’t your Corey, this isn’t the man you loved. It’s a monster, a predator lurking in the shadows, ready to strike without mercy.

You feel trapped, imprisoned in a hell you can barely understand. Fear seeps into every fiber of your being, a throbbing pain that twists your insides. What are you going to do now that you know the truth? How can you escape this unspeakable horror that threatens you from all sides?

He slowly comes nearer, his face so close to yours so you can feel his warm breath skimming your skin. Your heart pounds in your chest. A wave of panic rises inside you and that same suffocating sensation threatens to engulf you.

"You’re gonna love me again like you used to," he whispers, in a voice as soft as it is tinged with madness.

Terrorized, you nod weakly, your eyes fixed on his, a flicker of despair in your gaze. He smiles, a smile devoid of warmth, a smile that chills you to the bone.

Then, in a dark, sinister voice, he breathes the words that echo like a warning in the tension-filled air: "You belong to me".

A shiver of horror runs down your spine as you realize the magnitude of the threat b You’re a prisoner in your own basement, at the mercy of a man you no longer recognize, a man who seems to have lost most of his humanity… He’s the darkness.

You’re trapped.

---

[Author’s notes] Should I write another part? Do you have ideas for another part? Again, sorry if it’s not developed enough. I would totally do it if I was writing one of my novels.

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