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linkedkeysau-official · 2 years

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Whumptober 2022- Linked Keys edition

Day 18- break the ice/treading water/"here take my coat" (+art)

Wind did not handle the cold well, that much was a well-known fact amongst the chain. The young pirate was accustomed to the tropical climate of his Outset Island home, and to spending all day on the deck of a pirate ship sailing the sea which covered all of his Hyrule. Even just by looking at his tanned skin and the way he always wore thin clothes and sandals, one could tell he was far more equipped for hotter weather. Unfortunately, the Chain now found themselves in exactly the opposite of that: an island completely frozen over, covered in snow and ice with a seemingly ever-raging storm obscuring the peak of the tallest mountain. And Wind was not enjoying one second of it.

Even worse than cold air was cold water. The boys had gotten cornered in the middle of a frozen lake by a whole pack of White Wolfos. They outnumbered the beasts by at least 2 to 1, but they’d made the mistake of letting themselves be surrounded. In their collective attempt to move to a position where they’d have the upper hand once more, Wind made use of the Phantom Sword’s ability to momentarily freeze time. Carving the shape of an hourglass into the ice beneath him, he saw the Wolfos (and the other heroes) freeze in place. Using the short time this gave him, he dashed forward, slicing his sword across the backs of two of the monsters, which would hopefully at the very least catch them off guard long enough for the others to move.

The plan was working at first. Wind was able to help his friends get on the outside of the ring of Wolfos. Twilight and Legend took down the first two. Wind made the mistake of looking around to check on the others, in case they needed his assistance. As soon as he turned his back, something slammed into him from behind. His chin hit the hard, frigid ground, sending a shockwave through his skull that left him momentarily dazed. Something went flying from his bag, skittering across the ice. It was his sister’s spyglass.

“AGH! Stupid—!” Wind cried, trying to get himself free. The Wolfos on top of him was too heavy. He could feel its hot, smelly breath on the back of his head, and hear its growling directly in his ear. That thing very well could have eaten him then and there had something not slammed into the Wolfos from behind, throwing it off of Wind’s back and sending it tumbling over the ice, whining. Stunned for a moment, the Wolfos attempted to stand up again, before a crack was heard, and all of a sudden the beast fell thro ugh an hourglass shape in the ice– right where Wind had carved it in order to freeze time minutes ago. He would have let out a triumphant whoop, but was stopped when he remembered his precious gift from his sister… And watched the spyglass tumble into the freezing water along with the Wolfos.

"NO!!!" Wind cried, sliding on the ice like a penguin, reaching down into the hole as if he could grab the spyglass before it fell too deep. It had slipped past his fingers already, however. Just like that, his sister's treasure was lost to the depths of this frozen lake. Though, as Wind would rather die than lose that spyglass, naturally the only thing to do here was to jump into the water and grab it. Even just sticking his hand in told him that it would suck. It was going to be freezing. Wind would have to be quick if he didn’t want to freeze to death under the ice.

“Wind, what are you doing?” He heard Warriors ask. Wind ignored him. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the cold that he knew was coming. Then before anyone could stop him, he jumped into the hole.

“Wind!!!”

The cold was far more intense than he expected. From the moment he was submerged, his body froze in place with the shock of it. It nearly took the air right out of his lungs, he could hardly keep holding his breath as an icy fist tightened around his chest. Every part of him burned, so cold he actually felt as if he were on fire, like burning knives and needles were relentlessly and repeatedly stabbing into every inch of his body. For a solid few seconds, Wind couldn’t move at all; the cold had completely paralyzed him.

The spyglass. Find the spyglass, he reminded himself. He was finally able to shake off the daze he’d been left in by the plunge, and managed to open his eyes, looking around for a glint of gold that would indicate the location of his prized possession. It took a moment, but eventually he spotted it, sinking slowly towards the murky lakebed. Wind wasted no time in diving down towards the bottom, grabbing onto it with tingling, numb fingers before turning around and starting back up towards the surface.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wind!!!” Warriors shouted, running towards the hole that the young pirate had disappeared into. Suddenly, a bitter cold tore through the valley. A strong, swirling gust of wind picked up, carrying snow and ice that stung like angry wasps through clothes and on any bare skin it touched. Warriors had no experience with frostbite, but if he had to guess what it felt like, this wind felt like instant frostbite. And the suddenness of it, the perfect timing of it hitting immediately after Wind dove into the water, implied the gusts were of a magical source (Because of course it is, Warriors thought).

The cold wasn't the problem, though. As the bitter wind continued to blow, the hole in the ice that the young pirate had jumped through was beginning to freeze over once more, at an unnatural rate. If nothing was done, Wind would be trapped down there. If drowning didn't kill the kid, the cold surely would. Warriors wasn't letting that happen.

"If… If anyone has a fire rod on them… Now would be the time to use it! We need to… stop this wind before it… closes up the hole!" Warriors ordered. He had his own rod out and was sending out streams of flame into the air. Paint, Four, Wild, and Legend were doing the same. Hyrule appeared to be using a fire spell as well. They had to be careful to not aim directly at the ice, lest they melt it and all fall into the water themselves, but hopefully with enough heat in the air, they could shield what was left of the sailor’s escape hole from the icy wind and keep it from freezing over.

The problem was, as the cold began to dissipate with each stream of flames, the wind picked up again, even stronger this time, as if in response to the heroes’ effort to stop it. As Paint’s flames were blown back, almost directly into Four’s face, he realized this wasn’t going to work.

“It’s no use!” He cried, “We can’t stop this!”

“Come on, Wind, hurry!” Warriors muttered. He was about three seconds away from jumping in after Wind.

“Let me try…” Hyrule knelt down on the ground, trying to ignore the freezing cold on his bare knees. He swore he could see Wind coming back up, though there was no way the hole would be big enough for him to fit through. He tried to use his fire spell to widen the hole a bit, just until Wind could get out. It seemed to be working at first, but all of a sudden, the heat was suddenly sucked out of the air and with a flash of blue light, Hyrule found his hands frozen to the ground, and the hole completely frozen over.

“Oh crap…” Hyrule whimpered. There was a thumping sound coming from underneath the ice. Wind was trying to get out. Hyrule tried to melt himself free, but it only made the ice spread farther up his arms. If they didn’t find a way to break the ice, both he and Wind could be in trouble.

“Guys, help!” Hyrule cried. Warriors, Time, Paint, Ravio, and Twilight all hurried over, immediately starting to slam weapons and tools against the ice; hammers, rods, hookshots, swords… anything that might be able to break through. It was slow, but they were making progress at least. They just had to hope they could break through quick enough.

Wind pounded his fists against the underside of the ice, trying desperately to break through. The cold water chilled him to the bone, and he was quickly running out of air. Cracks were beginning to appear in the ice, but not fast enough. Wind's movements were slowing down, though whether it was the cold or simply exhaustion, he was unsure. His lungs ached with the need to breathe. He had to break through.

More cracks appeared. The edges of Wind's vision began to blur. He needed to breathe! It was all he could do to keep from giving in to the urge to do so while he was still underwater. Panic surged as he realized he was running out of time. The cold was beginning to fade into a feeling of warmth; Wind had very little knowledge of what hypothermia did to a person, but he had a feeling that it wasn't a good sign. Still, that would mean nothing if he drowned first. He kept pounding on the ice as hard as he could. It didn't matter that his hands hurt. He had to get out. He had to get out now!

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the ice broke. Shards fell down into the water, leaving a hole big enough for Wind to get through. He grabbed on to the edge, but his strength had been spent from trying to stay close to the surface for so long, and he could no longer pull himself up. His hand slipped and he fell back down as he tried. However something grabbed his arm before he sank too low. There was a pull on his arm as he was lifted out of the water, drawing in as deep a breath as he could the moment his head broke the surface. The freezing air barely registered, as he was already so cold as it was, but he could feel the bite of the wind on his skin and through his wet clothes. His hands were going numb, as were his feet and legs, but a quick glance told him he at the very least still had a grip on his sister's spyglass. At least that dive hadn't been in vain.

"Wind! Goddesses you're freezing… Someone get me something else to wrap him up in!!!" Warriors cried out as he set the sailor down on the ground and began wrapping him up in his scarf before pulling him tightly against his body.

"Here, take my cloak." Wild offered, handing over his dark blue cloak

"My scarf too." Ravio handed over the thick two-tone scarf he always wore.

"You can use my sailcloth too." Sky untied the white cloth from around his neck and tucked it in around Wind's body. The poor sailor was barely conscious, and so cold that he wasn't even shivering anymore; frost coated his hair and clothes and his lips had turned blue.

"We have to get to the village. Hopefully there will be a place where we can warm up. He won't make it long otherwise." Time said. Warriors nodded in agreement, taking off running towards the village they had been trying to reach from the start, Wind still bundled up and held tight to keep him as warm as possible. The others quickly followed. Once they got there and got him by the fire with some dry blankets, hopefully the kid would be okay.

And a bonus drawing of a part that was cut from the story but will be included later 😃

#linked keys #loz au #LK #whumptober2022 #LK Wind #not lu

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bearpillowmonster · 2 years

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.Hack GU: Vol 1 (Story)

With IMOQ, I did the gameplay and overall in one review and then split the story of all 4 into one post, this one, I'm just going to split it, this episode is going to be focusing on Volume 1, Rebirth. I know it's technically all one product now but a quick google search will tell you that the runtime can span around 50 hours, something that deserves to be split up.

And it is, in the menu at least.

Now, the other reason I even bothered coming back is because the concept is interesting. A PKK (Player Killer Killer) isn't a concept that hasn't been used before but certainly one worth exploring, I think. In fact, I had a dream of something similar but with aliens and all kinds of other junk that seemed really cool to me but something stood out in that dream. One of the guys names was "Haseo" aka the main character of this whole Hack GU saga. I see that as enough reason, I mean I revisited Kingdom Hearts because of a dream and you probably know how that sailed, so why not this one?

Well with the abundance of cutscenes comes with a lot of overexpositing and overexplaining, making the story kind of watered down. But I found it more manageable than the beginning because the cutscenes aren't nearly as long. I'll revisit the topic once I finish the series whether it's better than IMOQ but so far it's on par. I also have to mention how this game is longer.

One thing about the original series is that the characters were memorable enough for me to remember even a year later and their designs were great too. With this one, all the major characters have their own cards which have hand drawn art full body which I can really appreciate from someone who draws and likes to know exactly what they're drawing, I remember being hard pressed to find a full picture of BlackRose or Terajima Ryoko as reference because their in game models just didn't cut it when their drawings by Yoshiyuki Sadamoto were so beautiful. Even the lore gets similar treatment in the desktop sections having watercolor styled illustrations. But anyways, I'm not as big of a fan of the designs this time around but that's alright, I wasn't with Mass Effect initially either and look at how much that took me by storm.

Except players like Gaspard.

And THAT'S supposed to be one of the early introductions??

Atoli is kind of bittersweet because she has a similar player model to this 'Shino' that gets teased throughout the story and I really want to know who Shino is. Her character isn't bad, I mean she has a good arc with the whole showing Haseo how to look at The World through a different lense but she's way too happy-go-lucky for me. That's where Haseo comes in though because these types of characters might not bother you as a kid, in fact you might think "Why's he such a big old grump?" but as someone who's older you're like "I get it. He's out of line but he's right."

I-chi-go? I mean, Kuhn, they call him Kuhn. Wait, Yuri Lowenthal AND Jonny Yong Bosch? What is this? Code Geass? They basically have the same dynamic too, just reversed.

As far as a remaster goes, it makes everything clearer and not as grainy and adds more content (as I mentioned) but the graphics are still definitely PS2 but in terms of that, most of everything is leagues better than IMOQ.

#.hack #.hack//g.u.#rebirth #volume 1 #vol 1 #story #g.u.#gu #review #last recode

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slushyseals · 3 years

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youtube

#There are many videos of seals swimming into glass #Kimjia knows her enclosure very well including where the glass is and you can even see her extend her neck #in antici...#...#PATION #of stopping herself on the glass #using the squish of her neck to slow herself at the end #She is being cute and friendly and not hurt in any way #and silly sound effects are added #But there is another video I won't share as it is in poor poor taste #in the other video you see a seal with cloudy eyes swim into the window of their enclosure #And the comments are horrible as it is a bunch of people laughing at the animal for running into the glass it can't see #The seal in the video I'm not going to share is blind #Making fun of that seal is making fun of a disabled animal #A lot of seals and sea lions in zoos and sanctuaries are blind because they cannot survive in the wild #A seal that can see knows every detail of its enclosure and exactly where the glass is #But a blind seal is amazing in that they can even swim at all using their whiskers to 'see' through the vibrations in the water #Unfortunately even though blind people can memorize the layout of their home #when you are sailing through the water it's hard to tell exactly where you are #And these poor animals often end up swimming into the glass they can't see or other objects in their enclosure #Don't laugh at them #Celebrate them for being brave enough to keep swimming despite being blind #And continuing to live their best lives even though they are facing challenges #They are amazing and incredible and deserve our love admiration and support #But of course we can enjoy Kimjia above for she is just being cute and friendly :)

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

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Chaotic as The Sea (3/?)

Pairing: Jack Sparrow x Female!Reader

Word Count: 3k Warning: swearing, violence Part Summary: The Black Pearl arrives in Bimini and as any adventure with Jack Sparrow, there’s chaos

Masterlist

Two days later...

Will

We arrive at Bimini as the sun begins to set. Y/N and Barbosa argue that we should wait until sunrise to explore the island. I argue that we can't waste another minute without trying to rescue Elizabeth. Jack, to my surprise, agrees that we shouldn't wait. Though, I think his reasoning is because he wants to see the fountain.

Barbosa, Jack, Gibbs, Ragetti, Pintel, Y/N, and I all hop off the boat to explore the island. Gibbs, Will, and Pintel all carry long torches for us as the only sources of light.

"Okay, so I know the general direction, but unless you feel like risking the chance of getting lost, which I don't, I suggest we use the compass," Y/N announces.

"I thought you were certain of the fountain's location," Barbosa remarks a tad agitated.

"Every tree and speck of white sand look exactly the same. Next trip, I'll drop your ass in a jungle in the middle of the night and tell you to find your way out!" She snaps.

"Okay, well then let's use the compass." Ragetti takes the compass of Jack's belt and hands it to Y/N.

The device begins to spin in her hand and Ragetti peeks over her shoulder. Jack quietly moves to stand beside her, wishing to catch a glimpse of himself.

Abruptly, Y/N shuts the compass and frantically tries to get rid of it. "Oh uh, no it's okay, Jack can take it." She tosses it to him.

"Me?" He looks at her wide-eyed and panicky. "No, give it to Will! He wants to find the bloody place." He tosses it to me.

"What's wrong with you two?" Barbosa yells in frustration.

"The compass doesn't work for them," I state.

"Seriously!" Y/N huffs.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Barbosa questions.

"When Jack holds it the arrow points to Y/N," I explain pointing between them.

"Who told you that!" Jack questions.

Then, Jack and Y/N both glare at Gibbs. "Gibbs!" They bark in unison.

The older man holds up his hands in surrender.

"Well, why can't Y/N do it?" Pintel questions timidly, circling his hands together.

"Why can't Will just bloody do it and we can move on!" The woman challenges.

Jack nods. "I'm with her on this one."

I sigh. "When Y/N holds it, it points toward whatever she wants so bad in New France."

"But isn't New France North of here?" Ragetti questions.

"Yes!" The rest of us answer in unison.

His face scrunches together in confusion. "But uh-"

Y/N elbows Ragetti in the ribs. "Shut it!" She's quick to change the subject. "Let's go! Will! I'll lead the way, you just act as a checker."

_______________________________________________

30 minutes later...

Y/N

As the seven of us continue to march through the thick jungle, Jack appears beside me. "After we're finished in New France. I say you and I pay a visit to Tortuga for old time's sake."

I laugh. "Ha! Wish to relive our break-up?"

"Think of it as a celebration of our reunion," he tries to sugarcoat it.

I roll my eyes, laughing as I move ahead to join Will up front. "In your dreams!"

Ragetti

I pick up my pace to catch up with Pintel. "I know something you don't know!"

"What?" He eagerly asks.

"When Y/N was holding the compass, the arrow was pointing toward her," I whisper.

His face scrunches together. "Y/N desires herself?"

"No!" I huff. "Jack was standing next to her!"

He gasps, putting it all together. "So you mean-"

"Yes!"

He grins. "That's kinda sweet actually."

Y/N

"Now be careful!" I announce to the men, watching my step as we get closer to the mountainside. "The natives made pit traps and other boobytraps-"

Before I can finish my warning. Jack screams from the back of the group. When I whip my head around, Jack is nowhere to be seen. "For idiots like Jack," I sigh.

"Does anyone see him?" Will questions, moving his torch around.

"It's kind of dark!" Gibbs remarks.

"Thank Jack and Will for that! They refused to wait until morning," I grumble, marching back to where I last saw Jack.

"Jack!" We all call in a scatter as we search.

"Captain!" Gibbs shouts.

We all watch our steps, checking the heavily covered jungle floor and sky for any sign of him. He could be hanging from a tree in a net or in a hole somewhere. If it's deep enough and well covered, it'll be hard to hear him.

"This is ridiculous!" Gibbs huffs.

"I say we leave him and tell the crew some natives got him," Barbosa suggests.

"I have an idea," I announce as one pops into my head. "Give me the compass," I ask Will, holding out my head.

"But how will that help?" He questions with a raised brow.

I hold the compass in my palm and lift the lid. I watch as the arrow spins. Soon, each of the men are gathered around me in a circle, eager to catch a glimpse. Then, the arrow stops, pointing Southeast. The men break apart, allowing me to follow it.

"Watch your step," I advise.

I keep a close eye on the arrow, making sure it doesn't change direction. I'm about to take another step when Will suddenly grabs my arm. I glance ahead and realize there's a massive pit in front of me. Its edges were covered in leaves and brush.

"Oh, thanks," I exhale deeply.

"Captain! You down there?" Gibbs shouts down below, holding a torch above the massive pit.

I kneel down beside the pit and await an answer.

There's a faint, "Am I dead?"

I giggle and shout back. "No, you're not dead you idiot!"

"Pintel! Ragetti! Go fetch a rope from the ship!" Barbosa commands, sending the two off.

I laugh, relieved that Jack is okay. Based on the distant swooshing sound, the pit is filled with water thankfully, not spikes. This could've been a recovery mission. I sit back on my knees and glance up to find the remaining three men staring at me with knowing grins.

"What!" I sass, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Nothing," they all say, breaking apart to roam in different directions.

I roll my eyes, such nosy people, pirates.

____________________________________________

The men work together, yanking Jack up from the bottom of the pit. I remained to kneel beside the edge, holding up a torch so we can see Jack when he pops up.

"Ho!" Barbosa calls out as they tug the robe. "Ho!"

Soon, Jack appears from within the darkness and I grip his belt, guiding him to safety. The men release the rope and relax, releasing panting breaths.

"You okay? Captain!" Gibbs questions.

"Yeah," Jack flips onto his back, catching his breath, "yeah, I should be fine. How did you-" His eyes flicker about until his eyes land on the compass on the ground beside me.

"Ah, now that's interesting." A cheeky smirk begins to form on his face as he lifts his gaze to meet mine.

I shove him in the shoulder, frustrated. "I told you to watch where you were going!" He has no idea how worried I was.

"I was a tad distracted by you, Love," he chuckles.

My eyes fall shut as I release a sigh of relief. Thank God, he's okay.

Jack places his hand on my thigh, capturing me by surprise. His dark eyes meet might and I place my hand over his. He flips his over and they interlock in my lap. His eyes soften at the sight.

Suddenly, there's a series of yells from across the jungle. Each of us tosses our heads to the side and sees small glimmers of light in the distance. Jack flies up beside me from his laid position.

"Are they with us?" He questions.

There's the ring of a gunshot and the bullet hits the tree right by Barbosa's head.

"Don't think so!" Will declares, his voice shaky.

"Who are they?" I shout.

"Wait! They're Black Beard's men! I remember one of them. He's the one who took Elizabeth!" Will determines.

“How did they find the fountain?” Barbosa yells.

“He knew you’d come and find me!” I comprehend and look over at Jack. “He’s been following us here!”

Pintel and Ragetti immediately make a run for it.

“I’m with them, time to go!” Will decides and starts to run back to the ship.

Jack takes my hand and instantly brings me to my feet. We begin to run too, hand in hand.

“Cowards!” Barbosa shouts and stands his ground. He whips out his gun and begins to shoot at the mob. “Come and get it you slimy gits! Ha!” He laughs.

Running utterly blind in the dark jungle, there’s hardly any light other than that that can make it through the tree tops from the moon. We make it through the jungle and see the beach a few yards ahead. Will and the two morons make a bee-line for the ship, when they’re suddenly stopped by a cluster of Blackbeard’s men running from down the beach. Jack pulls me into his side and draws his sword.

Suddenly, I feel a hand wrap around my wrist and I’m yanked away from Jack. He immediately whips around and his eyes grow wide. My back slams into someone’s chest and I struggle to free myself. More of Blackbeard’s men appear from within the jungle and begin to fight Jack. Two men begin to drag me off and I fling around, trying to break free.

"Jack!" I scream. “Let me go you bastards!”

Jack searches for me and when he finally spots me, he screams. "No!" He looks at me pleading and full of guilt.

As more of Blackbeard’s men appear, we both quickly realize there’s nothing either of us can do. These morons are taking me to their ship, more than likely to see their captain and to be held prisoner. This is yet another reunion I did not request.

______________________________________

After sailing out to the Queen Anne's Revenge a couple hundred yards from the island, the nasty men take me aboard and immediately drag me off to the captain’s quarters. They swing open the double doors below top deck and we enter a familiar red velvet decorated office.

A tall man stands behind the desk with his back to us. "And who do we have here?" A familiar voice purrs. When he spins around, his grin falls to confusion. "Y/N?"

"I told you! Idiots!" I huff and yank my arms free from his buffoons."Hi, Eddie," I offer a fake smile.

"Eddie?" The pair beside me repeat in unison.

The captain pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. "How many times must I tell you?"

"You could hand me the Templar Treasure yourself, I won't call you Blackbeard. It's stupid," I laugh, approaching him.

"Leave us," he commands his minions. Once we’re allow, he moves to stand the other side of his desk. He props himself against it with a grin. "So, you and Jack are back together again..."

"No way in hell," I snicker, taking a look about his office. He’s changed it in the last five years. "He promised me he knew where the Templar Treasure was, I'm simply completing my half of the deal."

"Which is?" He inquires.

I stop my admiring of his decor to meet his gaze. "Showing him to the fountain."

"You would honestly betray me like that?" He acts offended my placing his hand against his chest.

"If it guaranteed me the Holy Grail? Yes,” I stand firm.

"Your loyalties still lie with that treasure? You truly are a pirate at heart,” he smirks. He rises from his position on the desk to pour us chalices of wine. As he approaches me, his eyes travel up and down my entirety. "Dare I say, you look amazing."

I accept the wine, but roll my eyes at his compliment. "Oh save it.”

He pouts dramatically. "What happened to the spirited eighteen-year-old I first met?” He reaches up and tucks strands of my hair behind my ear. “You're bitter now."

I lift my arm and knock his hand away from me. "It's called maturing."

"Have you matured enough to conclude that I'm the better man than Jack?" He smirks, stepping closer to me.

I move away from him and toward the book case against the far wall behind his desk. "I think I prefer neither of you,” I answer over my shoulder.

"One point, if I recall correctly, there was a point where you couldn't choose between us." He narrows his eyes, taking a sip of his wine as he creeps closer to me again. "Do you remember those few months in Bermuda?"

I shift of my heels, allowing my eyes to fall to the Persian rug beneath them. "It was always going to be him, Eddie..."

Abruptly, he rushes toward me and pins me against the bookcase. My wine falls out of my hand and stains the rug. "I could've had you if I wanted!" He growls.

I look him dead in the eyes with a clenched jaw. "You dare threaten me!”

He laughs mockingly. "What? Going to curse me?"

I grin. "That used to terrify you if I recall correctly."

"You're all bark and no bite. I happen to know for a fact, you don't practice dark magic!" He challenges.

"Just because I don't practice it, doesn't mean I don't know how to use it.”

There’s a commotion outside and soon the double doors swing open to reveal Jack marching in, gun drawn. While Eddie is distracted I pick up a vase off one of the shelves near me and I knock him over the head with it. The vase shatters into a hundred pieces over his head and the man falls to the ground with a thud at my feet. My chest rises and falls rapidly as I meet Jack’s gaze. His eyes flicker away from the man knocked out on the floor and up to me.

"I hate that I'm relieved to see you," I pant.

He runs over to me and takes my hand. "Consequence of loving me." He guides me over to one of the windows and swings it open. “Can you jump?”

I look at him as though he as three heads. “Can you jump? What kind of dumb question is that?” I mock. Then, I ask him a similar dumb question. “I don’t know Jack, can you swim?” I roll my eyes and climb up onto the windowpane and jump out.

“Jesus, Mary, and the bloody camel sorry for asking!” I hear him grumble under his breath as climbs out the window and jumps in after me.

___________________________________

Jack

We’re not sure how we’ll get Elizabeth back, but we will. Though, I suspect that he was never after the fountain. No, what he truly wanted was Y/N and the fountain was just a cover-up. I brought her right to him. For now, we just need to create some distance between us so we can form a plan.

Y/N climbs the ladder above me and Gibbs helps her on board. She offers him a thank you and brushes herself down. The crew is well into their tasks, getting us far from this island as soon as possible.

“Glad to see you’re safe, Miss,” Gibbs greets.

“Did everyone make it back okay?” She questions as I climb aboard.

“Yes, even I,” Barbosa announces with a proud grin. “Not with the help of you lot,” he adds.

“Don’t exactly have a death wish,” she giggles.

“There’s a change of clothes for you in the Captain’s office,” Gibbs informs her.

She offers him thanks and begins toward my quarters. Barbosa and Gibbs break apart to return to their positions.

“You! Hold it!” I call out.

The two men glance in my direction, wondering who I’m speaking to. They follow my gaze to Y/N.

She whips her head around, her gorgeous, long, wavy, Y/H/C flowing in the breeze. She crosses her arms over chest. “Excuse me?” She scoffs with a grin forming on her lips.

I narrow my gaze at her. “I have one question.”

Barbosa and Gibbs watch the interaction, their heads tilting back and forth between us with each exchange. The crew too watches as they attempt to multitask with their duties. Her eyes remain on the deck panels and anywhere else but me.

“Did you know the compass would lead you to me?” I ask.

There’s a pause and I can tell she’s reluctant to answer despite the amused expression she wears. Then, her eyes rise to meet mine with a sigh. “Yes... maybe...”

I smirk, approaching her slowly. “Oh see now that’s interesting, don’t you think?”

“What? Just going to gloat about the ship now?” She rolls her eyes, directing her focus in the distance away from me.

I bring my hands up to her cup her face and make her meet my gaze. To my surprise and pleasure, she doesn’t move from her spot or shove me away. Instead, brings her fingers to hook through the loops of belt.

“You stay with me from now on. No more hiding out.” I smirk. “That’s an order,” I tease quietly between us.

“Whatever you say...” Her eyes fall to my lips and then flicker back to my eyes. She grins. “Captain.”

One my hands slips behind her head to her neck and I bring my lips to meet hers in a needy kiss. Her arms fling over my shoulders, deepening the kiss.

“Now they’re going to be insufferable!” I hear Barbosa grumble to Gibbs as he stomps off.

Five years of searching for her, waiting for, wondering if I’ll ever see her again. What happened between us all those years ago is one of my greatest regrets if not the biggest. Our relationship has never been easy, in fact it’s exceedingly complicated and one giant headache. We haven’t stopped arguing since the moment we met and rarely agree on anything. Yet, we love as we do argue with each other, passionately and with everything we have. Now that I have Y/N back and I know she loves me in return, I’m never letting her go. God help me if I let Blackbeard anywhere near her.

_______________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @subwonwooagenda @starfire56 @doveygirlkay-blog @dansyberry @dansyberry @meany-marcelini @naturallyathief @oliviamae4193 @xxshoutxx @house-chase465636 @the-clint-barton @lxr1582 @m00ny-stars @lonliest-love @meandmymessyminds @jick-n0nas @biracy @kriimu10 @soxpoprocks @peachyplxm @captainluciabianchin @cannibalistic-cicada @a-e-i-owe-you @velvetsnaiil @mindifislytherin666 @bunkyung @livinglifewithoutbeingseen @ghosts-face @mx-pibbles @bigplaidwinnerparty @greentea121598 @that-eco-bitch

#pirates of the caribbean #pirates of the carribean imagine #jack sparrow imagine #jack sparrow #jack sparrow fanfic #jack sparrow x reader #PotC #will turner #elizabeth swann

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angelicyoongie · 4 years

Text

the crimson shell (llll)

— pairing: jungkook x f!reader — genre: mermaid au, yandere au — w.c: 4.6k — warnings: explicit sexual content! heavy dub-con touching/intercourse, forced breeding, oviposition, mentions of death/violence, general yandere themes — notes: ah, here we finally are, the last part/finale to the story! please keep the warnings in mind, and don’t read this chapter if you’re uncomfortable with anything stated above!

Part I / II / III / IIII

You’re not sure how long you’ve been here. After the second week of just blankly staring at the never changing cave walls surrounding you, you figured there was no point in keeping track of it. What good does it do you anyway? It’s not like counting the days will miraculously get you out of here. While you might not know the number, you do know that it’s been far too many. Your skin has grown pale and gaunt from the lack of sunshine and warmth you’re so used to, and the diet of raw fish hasn’t exactly been very kind to you. The cave is tall enough for you to stand up in comfortably, so at least your circulation isn’t completely shot, but you honestly lack the energy to stay on your feet for too long. Escaping, even just back up to the island, is your only chance at survival. You don’t think you’re going to last very long down here. It’s already gotten to the point where you’ve begun looking forward to Jungkook’s short daily visits, even just the sight of something almost human enough to keep you sane.

You let out a heavy sigh, the noise echoing around the cave as you lean back against the stone wall. Over the last couple of days, the creature has begun to bring you little treasures alongside with your food. You’re not exactly sure why, but it’s nice to have something to do – even if it’s just tracing the patterns on the lockets and pendants over and over. You run your fingers over the small pile of golden jewelry by your side, trying your best to keep your thoughts away from the people it must have belonged to. Jimin might have managed to get away, but you doubt the rest of them did. Two of the pendants in your pile belonged to the crew Jimin brought with him, and you suspect that if you give Jungkook a few more days, he’ll bring you the remaining three. As if you summoned him with your straying thoughts, a small splash in the water alerts you of the creature’s arrival. You turn your head just in time to see Jungkook hoisting himself up on the ledge, another fish and a new pendant dropped at your feet. You silently scoot closer to the edge, offering up your hand to the creature’s expectant red eyes. Jungkook nuzzles into your hand with a happy thrill, rubbing his cheek along your palm. You suppress a shudder at the sound, ignoring the soft skin underneath your fingertips as you stare at the headless fish at your feet. Sometimes you wish you could share the same fate as your food.

You let Jungkook cuddle your hand for as long as he wants, knowing that denying him will only make things worse for yourself. If you look past the sharp claws and teeth, Jungkook is hardly anything more than an oversized puppy. He seems to crave constant affection and confirmation that he’s done good when he brings you food or treasures. You think you might would have found it sweet if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s keeping you trapped here – and that he’s a monster. There’s nothing sweet or innocent about the creature in front of you. You let out a small breath of relief as Jungkook drops your hand, but he doesn’t immediately sink back down in the water as he normally does. You watch in confusion as he pushes the fish closer, the gold chain around it rattling as it drags against the stone. You hesitantly pick it up, praying that Jungkook isn’t going to stay here and watch you eat it. The raw fish already makes you nauseous, and there’s no way you’ll be able to stomach eating it with an audience. Especially one that likes to punish you when you do something he doesn’t like. Call you crazy, but you don’t think gagging at the food he brings you will make him very happy.

You slowly unwrap the chain, putting the fish back down to turn over the locket in your hands. You suck in a harsh breath at the familiar design at the front, the intricate carved flowers making bile rise in your throat. You had this made for Jimin years ago, back when you were still best friends. You two stayed friendly even after you started drifting apart, but you figured he would’ve gotten rid of the locket by now. You can’t believe he kept it all this time. That he still wore it. Your hands shake as you gently pull on the clasp on the side, a strained sound leaving your lips as you flip it open. A picture of you and Jimin smiles back at you, your faces bright and carefree. Jimin has an arm slung around your shoulders, his eyes closed into little crescent moons from how hard he’s grinning at the camera. The pure happiness in the photo makes your heart clench. Despite knowing Jimin was the one who lead you here, you find yourself desperately missing him for a split second before you can catch yourself. God, maybe if you accepted that marriage proposal from the baker’s sleazy son last year you would’ve at least been safe. Home.

You’re yanked out of your thoughts as Jungkook tugs you closer to the ledge, a clawed hand quickly snatching the locket out of your grasp. He lets out a series of chirping noises as his red eyes drag from the locket to you, and Jungkook taps your smiling face in the photo before he does the same to your leg. You stare in bewilderment as the creature drops the locket back in your hands, his lips stretched into a nightmarish version of a smile before he lowers himself down in the water. You swear your heart stops the moment you see the rows of teeth lining his mouth, and it refuses to work again until Jungkook is fully submerged and swimming away. You hastily scoot back from the edge, the locket clutched tightly in your hand. A bitter smile graces your lips as it dawns on you that you’ve figured out how Jimin traded your life for his. The picture. While you can’t be sure of exactly how he managed to communicate with Jungkook, you’re sure that being stranded here for six months must’ve been more than enough time to figure out a way to converse without using actual words. With Jimin as living proof in front of him, the creature must’ve understood that it meant that you were real too. And that if he had managed to get Jimin, then there would be a way to get to you. It was probably easier for Jimin to trade your life for his when he had something tangible to show Jungkook, when he had proof in his hands that you were out there too. A part of you hopes that maybe Jimin tried to convince Jungkook to change his mind, to take someone else instead, but you have a feeling that even if he did, the creature wouldn’t have budged. From the time you’ve spent on the island it has become very clear that Jungkook is stubborn and used to getting what he wants – but you suppose that’s only natural for a creature like him. How can something tell you no when it has already been eaten?

Of course, Jimin had no way to be sure that you would set sail for Jungkook’s island. But, while there was no guarantee you would risk travelling that far, your old friend knew how desperate you were for money, and the lengths you were willing to go to keep your family afloat. You suppose he knew how easy it would be to trick you as long as there was a bit of gold involved, and Jimin was dripping in it when he came back. You just hope he at least had the decency to spare your family a gold ring or two after you left, considering he sacrificed you to go free. You toss the locket aside, not really caring where it ends up as long as it’s far away from you. You force yourself to take a few deep breaths, trying your best to quell the anger burning through your veins. Being mad at Jimin won’t do you any good while you’re stuck down here, so you allow yourself to whisper out a string of curses at the man before you lock away the heavy feeling of betrayal deep into your chest. Seeing Jimin’s smiling face has reignited your dwindling spirit, and you decide that you will get out of here, even if it is just to hunt Jimin down.

The next time Jungkook comes back to visit you, there are no more treasures. Instead, your eyes widen in surprise as the creature gently places a familiar shell and pearl down by your feet, next to your twitching meal. You’re certain you left them near your bonfire higher up on the beach, but judging by the scratches and roughed up skin on Jungkook’s arms, it seems like the creature probably dragged himself all the way up there to get them. You feel your throat run dry at the thought, at the fact that you weren’t even as safe on land as you had first believed. If Jungkook was willing to bring himself up on land to get them, then you’re sure they must mean something important. It can’t be a coincidence that both the shell and the pearl have the same deep red colour as Jungkook’s tail and eyes, and come to think of it, didn’t your luck begin to turn after you picked up it that evening before you left?

Jungkook lets out a chirp as you pick up the shell, the creature leaning forward to rub his head against the back of your occupied hand. You eye him warily as your mind races through what has happened ever since you left home. You really, truly, hope that you’re wrong, but based on how everything started after you picked up the shell and how the creature acts – how he provides for you, how offended he acts when you push him away and how affectionate he is, you fear you might have accidentally accepted a courting offer. You’ve seen similar patterns in animals before, and while you’re not entirely sure what Jungkook really is, you think it’s safe to assume that the same thing might apply for him too. What you can’t really wrap your mind around is why he waited so long. It took weeks before you left after Jimin returned, and you were down by the beach every night. The unexplainable fear you felt was probably something deep inside of you that recognized that you were being watched by a predator – by him – but you didn’t know enough to connect the dots. Jungkook had many chances to grab you, but he didn’t. Not until you accepted his shell. Convenience maybe? That this whole trade was easier if he made you come to him? Or maybe some weird kind of custom his kind has? He is half human, after all. But you can’t be sure. If anything, Jimin could’ve at least had the decency to teach you how to converse with him if he was going to throw you to the sharks, or rather, Jungkook. Either way, you’re sure Jungkook would’ve eventually found a way to get to you even if you didn’t leave on that boat.

You’re shaken out of your thoughts when the feeling of soft skin leaves the back of your hand. The clicks falling from Jungkook’s lips are uncharacteristically soft as he pulls himself up on the ledge, those deep red eyes trained on yours as he tugs you closer. It only takes one hard yank before you find yourself caged in underneath Jungkook’s arms again, legs on either side of his waist. Your pulse quickens as you’re reminded of what happened the last time – you’re not exactly eager to pass out again from being smothered by his weight.

You feel like you shouldn’t be surprised that Jungkook manages to carry his entire weight on one arm, while the other begins to roam across your body. After all, he did drag himself up on land and back, and the part you had on top of you last time was hardly anything. The weight of his entire tail must be extremely heavy out of water. You know the creature doesn’t like it when you don’t pay him attention, so you let your eyes rest on his collarbones, watching as a few drops of water run down his skin. Keeping eye contact is too intimidating, those deep red irises makes it feel like you’re staring right into the depths of hell.

You dig your fingers into your thighs as Jungkook’s hand dips under the torn fabric of your shirt, the unusual texture of the web between his fingers making you squirm uncomfortably as it drags over your skin. You’re very aware of the sharp claws hovering above your delicate stomach as he explores, but at least the creature knows to not let them touch. Jungkook’s hand trails over your sides, your stomach, all the way up to the underside of your breasts. You swallow thickly as a knuckle brushes against the soft flesh, Jungkook’s motion suddenly stilling at the contact. You’ve always managed to push him off before he’s gone any further, but you can feel the shift in the creature’s mood today. You know he’s not going to take no for an answer. But, that still didn’t prepare you for the sudden gush of wind brushing across your exposed chest, your shirt split clean in two with the help of Jungkook’s claws. Before you can scramble to cover up, Jungkook lets out an excited chirp, his hand quickly moving back to your chest. Your mind goes blank as he places his palm over one of your breasts, experimentally squeezing and massaging it as he watches you curiously. You grit your teeth as Jungkook plays with it, ignoring the little tingle of heat in your stomach whenever he does something your traitorous body likes.

You try to convince yourself that Jungkook is probably just excited to see parts of a human body he hasn’t seen before, that he doesn’t really know what he’s doing. Your breath hitches as the webbed texture between Jungkook’s fingers glide over your nipples, a soft moan falling from your lips before you can stop yourself. The noise only seems to spur him on more, Jungkook repeating the motion to hear the sound again. A harsh squeeze on your breast forces out another moan, your hands flying to Jungkook’s chest. Your fingers twitch against his skin, your head telling you to push him away, while the building heat in your stomach and the growing wetness between your legs wants him close to finish what he’s started. You settle for digging your hands into his skin, grounding yourself in his body, knowing that pushing him away won’t do you any good. Jungkook lets out a happy thrill at your touch, lowering himself closer to your body as his hand moves from one breast to the other. You can feel his eyes burning into your skin, your body growing warmer and warmer under his intense gaze. There’s too many sensations at once – cold water dripping against your overheating skin, Jungkook’s long hair tickling your face, the soft and rough skin of his hand squeezing and moving across your flesh. Your eyes glide shut before you can stop yourself, forgetting your own rule of never letting Jungkook out of your sight. It’s just .. too much. Your body doesn’t know whether to hate the attention or love it, your chest tight with disgust while your stomach swirls with pleasure. At least with your eyes shut, and as long as your hands stay on his chest, he feels human. Human enough to make this whole thing a little less horrible.

Your legs tense as you feel more of Jungkook’s weight against your body, his hips pressing down more firmly against yours. You don’t pay it too much attention at first, too occupied by the hand on your chest. At least, that’s until you feel his hips begin to slowly move back and fourth, grinding against your clothed core. Your eyes fly open at the sudden friction, head spinning as your walls clench with need. You’re sure the flimsy material of your trousers must be soaked by now, and the realization that this creature is the reason behind it makes your cheeks flush red with mortification. You stifle a gasp as Jungkook pinches your sensitive nipple between two fingers, another happy thrill filling the cave as he rolls his hips harder against your mound. You can feel the heat in your lower stomach building rapidly, the coil almost ready to snap when Jungkook suddenly stills. You push down the needy whine in your throat as Jungkook removes his hand from your body, the creature pulling himself up further on the ledge.

Your confusion dies as your eyes travel down a little further past his hips, the arousal you felt quickly washed away by terror as you notice a slit in his tail, and something extending out of it. You nearly choke on your own spit as it finally clicks, trying your best to scramble out from beneath Jungkook’s hold as his cock becomes fully unsheathed. Jungkook lets out a series of low, warning clicks at your struggle, his clawed fingers digging into your shoulders as his arms keeps you caged you in. You look down in horror as you feel him resume his grinding against your clothed sex. It’s nothing like you’ve ever seen before. His cock is slightly tapered at the tip, growing thicker down against the base. What you thought was just some misplaced curiosity is obviously more than that, because now, there’s no doubt in your mind that Jungkook’s plan is to fuck you. You ignore the pain as sharp claws dig into your skin, trying your best to twist out of his hold. Logically you know there’s no place for you to run to down here, and that was probably what he wanted all along. Still, your heart hammers painfully against your chest, urging you to at least try.

You don’t succeed in doing much more than twisting yourself over on your stomach, fingers clawing at the stone in an attempt to pull yourself away. You barely have time to process the hiss leaving Jungkook’s throat before the remaining fabric of your trousers are sliced clean in two, leaving you completely bare. The next roll of his hips sends his cock rubbing over your ass, your body trembling at the wetness that seems to be coating it. The scales on his hips are rough and sharp as they drag over your soft skin, and you don’t doubt they'll feel like tiny little razors if you move against them wrong. You’re still trying to drag yourself away when Jungkook’s arms comes under your body, one wrapping underneath your arm to hold the opposite shoulder, and the other curling around your stomach. The creature lets out another hiss at your squirming, pulling your flush against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat against your back, the steady rhythm such a contrast to the wild beat of your own as he once again moves against your body. The new position sends his cock gliding between your legs, the shaft rubbing along your folds and coating it with the same slick fluid you felt on your skin. You dig your fingers into the stone floor, but your body is locked up tight against Jungkook. There’s nowhere for you to go.

Jungkook lets out another warning noise before he rolls his hips forward again, the tapered tip of his cock catching on your entrance. You let out a strangled moan as Jungkook’s cock sinks into your heat, your walls stretching around him as he pushes in deeper. Your arousal from earlier combined with the wetness around the creature’s cock makes the slide painless aside from the uncomfortable burn of being filled too much, too fast. Jungkook’s excited thrill at finally being buried inside your heat rings in your ear from the close proximity, his tongue dipping out to flick across the sheen of sweat at your nape. The creature begins pulling his hips back, not giving you any time to adjust before he snaps them forward. You let out a choked moan as he fills you up again, vision growing hazy as he sets a brutal pace from the get go. You can feel the harsh slap of his hips against your ass with every thrust, Jungkook letting out a pleased hiss as he continues to slam into you. You can feel the tapered length twitching and pulsing inside of you as he moves, more wetness seeping out of his cock to mix with your own. Every thrust leaves you gasping for breath, and the hold Jungkook has around your body feels like you’re wrapped up in steel. You have no choice but to lay there and take it, but as the creature’s cock nudges over your sweet spot repeatedly, you realize to your own horror that you like it.

Lost in a daze of arousal and fear, you don’t even realize the creature has been moving the both of you backwards until you’re suddenly plunged into the cold water. You let out a startled gasp as Jungkook’s length disappears from your heat, and you thread the water forcefully to keep your head above the ripples as you try to figure out where the creature went. You feel his hands before you see him, claws wrapping around your waist as Jungkook pushes you against the ledge. You let out a pained groan as your back collides with the stone, your hands scrambling up to grip the edge of it. You freeze as Jungkook’s head slowly emerges from the water, those deep red eyes looking hungrier and wilder than you’ve ever seen before. It only takes a moment before you feel the creature’s chest pressed against yours, his cock slipping in even easier with the new position. It doesn’t take many thrusts before you’re forced to wrap your legs around his waist to keep yourself afloat, your arms shaking with the effort of keeping your head over water. Your fingers slip a little against the wet stone, your eyes widening as you seem to sink even further down on Jungkook’s cock. You’ve never been so full before, almost delirious as he picks up his pace. Jungkook’s hands are relentless as they glide over your skin, pinching and rubbing every part of your body.

“F-fuck,” You moan as your clit rubs against his tail, the roughness of the scales making a bolt of arousal shoot through your body. You don’t even realize your hips are moving against his as the tightness in your gut grows, the pressure building more and more until it suddenly unravels, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you see stars as you come on Jungkook’s cock. The creature lets out something close to a growl as your walls clamp down around him, and he fucks you straight through your orgasm and into oversensitivity with an animalistic pace. You whine as Jungkook’s cock begin to swell, grow, his hands stilling on your hips to pull you flush against him as he comes. He lets out a pleased chirp as the burning hot come floods your insides, a broken moan escaping your lips as Jungkook slows down the harsh pace. It’s done, you think, relieved. He’ll probably leave you alone now. So it confuses you when Jungkook’s eyes slide shut, soft clicks leaving his lips as he pushes you even harder against the stone behind you. He’s still working his hips in and out of your heat, and you realize that even though he just came, his cock is still hard and growing, still stretching your walls.

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head as you feel something moving up Jungkook’s cock, a firm but soft sphere spurting from the tip and into you. It takes a second for your hazy mind to connect the dots, and you realize a little too late that the creature is laying eggs. Inside of you. Jungkook is breeding you. You desperately try to push against his chest as you feel the second egg travel up his cock, but Jungkook only tugs you closer, tucking his face into the crook of your neck as his chest rumbles. You stifle back a moan as the second egg joins the first, the foreign texture brushing along your sensitive walls. The creature purrs as he released another spurt of eggs, slowly grinding his cock back and fourth as he breeds you. You cling on to the ledge behind you, disgust and pleasure wracking through your body as another egg joins the rest. A deeper click, something almost close to a groan, falls from Jungkook’s lips as he forces the last egg into your tight heat. Your eyes nearly roll back as you feel his cock nudge against your cervix; Jungkook’s slow pace fucking the eggs around inside of you. If you thought you felt full before, it’s nothing compared to being stuffed to the brim with Jungkook’s thick cock, eggs and come.

You can feel Jungkook’s breath ghost across your exposed wet skin, the harsh puffs of air sending chills down your back. Your hands finally slip from the ledge, too exhausted to keep you up anymore. Before you can wrap your shaking arms around Jungkook’s shoulders, the creature suddenly detangles you from his body, quickly hoisting you back up on the ledge. You let out shaky moan Jungkook’s cock once again slips from your heat, your body feeling surprisingly empty despite the eggs still resting inside of you.

“Shit,” You hiss as you strain to push yourself up on your elbows, gliding a hand down to your stomach. You can feel them inside of you when you press down, little bumps gliding around under your fingertips. Panic builds under your skin – you have to get them out. There has to be a reason you’ve never heard of creatures like Jungkook before. You doubt you're compatible to carry his eggs, and you don’t even know what will happen once they begin to grow. And even if you were, it’s not like you want them. Just as your hand is about to slip down to your slick folds, Jungkook hoists himself up from the water, once again covering your body. He snatches your hand away with a series of threatening clicks, barring his sharp teeth as he lies down on top of you. You twist your head with a fearful whimper as Jungkook pushes your hand into his hair instead, the weight of his body not totally crushing, but still enough to make you feel lightheaded.

You squeeze down around the eggs without meaning do, bile rising in your throat as they catch on your entrance, too big to push out without any help. Your eyes land on the crimson shell and pearl pushed over to the side of the cave. Your chest feels tight as it dawns on you that while the shell were likely a courting offer; the pearl must’ve been a mating offer. And you had accepted both. Your eyes begin to sting as you feel Jungkook’s chest rumble against yours, the pleased purrs making you feel sick. You hesitantly shift your gaze back to him, curling your fingers painfully tight into the wet locks underneath your palm as you find those deep red eyes already staring back at you. A twisted rendition of a smile blooms on his face, the rows of sharp teeth glistening as he looks down at you. The message in his gaze is clear – you’re keeping the eggs.

And there’s no way he’s letting you go.

a/n: oh boy. hopefully only those of you that were okay with the warnings made it this far. because i know i’ll get questions: jk fertilized his own eggs when he bred y/n, and y/n will basically serve as an incubator (poor girl lmao) for a while. she’ll push the eggs out eventually and then the eggs will hatch on their own. and no – i have no plans of doing jk’s pov any time soon, and it’s up to you to imagine y/n’s fate. anyway!! i hope you uhh, enjoyed this! and thank you for all the love and support for this mini series, it means a lot to me! as always, see you all soon and stay safe! and in case you enjoy my stories and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here! 💖

#mermaid bts #mermaid au #yandere bts #yandere jungkook #mermaid jungkook #bts smut #jungkook x reader #yandere au #bts x reader #yandere mermaid #yandere x reader #bts au #bts fanfic

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deathonyourtongue · 4 years

Text

Tease

Summary: There’s seldom a good reason to interrupt a workout. But you’ve got a plan... Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader Word Count: 1.9K Warnings: Pure, unadulterated SMMMMMMMMUUUTTTTTTT. A/N: We’ve all been wrecked by the tree trunks, the ham hocks, the thighs of glory. I just...Yeah, I had to. Sorry not sorry. Also, @fuckoffbard? This one’s for you, boo!

You’re not sure what wakes you first; the music coming from the back garden, or Kal’s cold, wet, nose nudging under your chin. Either way, you crack open an eyelid and look around. It’s early enough that the sun is barely peeking over the horizon and you can feel the chill outside without even having to see the light coating of frost on the hedges.

Sitting up, you reach for your robe, the black floral silk slipping against your skin as you pad over to the window, wondering what Henry’s up to. Kal follows and within moments has his nose plastered against the window, panting happily at seeing his owner outside. Scratching the top of his head absently, you watch Henry do agility drills, happy to see his hamstring not causing any more issues.

A grunt from Kal reminds you he’s probably hungry and with a pout down at the big ball of fur, you tie your robe and head to the kitchen to fill his bowl. Keeping your eyes on Henry is easy, as the windows that face the back of the property all have their curtains open, allowing a full view of his workout. It’s hard not to stare as he moves, each muscle a fine-tuned piece of machinery, working as one to make him faster and stronger with each workout.

When he switches from running back and forth across the garden, to running side to side however, it’s all you can do not to drop Kal’s bowl and imitate your furry friend by pressing your nose to the glass. Henry’s always had nice thighs, but as of late, he’s dialed up his work on them; the sight of him laterally shuffling from one side of the garden to the other only amplifies the definition and size of his muscles there, and it only takes seconds before you feel a visceral reaction to what’s just beyond the window.

With Kal preoccupied, you wander over to the back door, your lower lip caught between your teeth as an impish idea comes to mind. As Henry shuffles back towards the side of the house you’re on, you let your robe slip open, revealing a slice of your side and one of your breasts. You keep your eyes on a bird at the top of the hedge, wanting the whole thing to look accidental.

It takes everything in you not to laugh when Henry comes to a skidding halt, nearly falling over in his haste to stop. When you’re certain his eyes are on you and only you, you take a seat at the kitchen table, the bench seat perfect for what you have in mind.

Letting the robe fall open completely, you lean back and spread your legs. Henry’s body language goes slack and still, his eyes laser-focused on you as he moves closer, one step at a time. Your hands sweep your body slowly, spending some time on your breasts before slipping over your stomach and down your own thighs.

There’s no missing the tenting in his shorts as your fingers move to your mouth before heading further south. Henry’s nearly got his own face pressed to the glass as your fingers slip through your folds, making your own arousal plainly visible as you tease not only Henry, but yourself as well. A soft gasp leaves your lips as you dip your fingers inside, your need growing as you watch Henry’s hips and thighs tense. Mouth slack, it’s easy to see just how much you’re turning him on. You work yourself to the edge then quickly back off, letting the robe fall off your shoulders completely when you get to your feet. The silk trails behind you as you make your way to the master bath, secure in the knowledge that everything is going according to plan.

The sound of the shower is the only hint you give Henry and you have to cover your mouth as you hear a commotion fit for a bull in a china shop seconds after you’ve made yourself comfortable; Henry’s made it inside and is definitely on a mission.

“You absolute tease!” He growls as he careens into the bathroom, shirt half off and shorts at his knees. You bite your lip to keep from giggling as he struggles out of his sweaty clothes, Henry’s beaming smile making it clear he doesn’t mind his workout being interrupted for the right reasons. Opening the door to the shower, you gesture towards the built-in marble bench, one eyebrow raised in invitation.

“Says the man wearing short shorts, letting the whole world see those tree trunks you call legs. Sit,” you joke, smiling as you watch him finally rid himself of the last sock before moving under the spray. Though you’ve made yourself plain, you don’t mind waiting as he lets the warm water wash over his well-worked muscles. Your hands slide up his back, eliciting a groan of enjoyment from Henry as he sags a bit under your touch.

“Sit,” you repeat, kissing between his shoulder blades before gently nudging him in the direction of the bench. He sits with an ear-to-ear smile and an elated sigh, his arms opening almost immediately. Leaning in, you let him envelope you for a deep kiss, keeping your hips a teasing distance away from the part of him you know must be aching for relief.

“Wha-”

“Shh. Close your eyes. No peeking,” you chirp, pressing kisses down Henry’s abs as you get to your knees. Smoothing your hair back with the water cascading over both of you, you can’t keep the grin off your face if you try. As your hands slide up his rock-solid quads, your lips find the more tender skin of Henry’s inner thigh.

A breathless laugh escapes Henry as he feels your touch, but the momentary contraction of his muscles immediately releases as you continue to kiss your way slowly up his thigh. Looking up, you’re glad to see he’s not cheating and trying to steal a look; it makes what comes next all the more fun.

Immediately after kissing the juncture where his thigh meets his hip, you let your tongue drag up the underside of his length, getting the jump you were hoping for. Smiling, you rub his quads with firm pressure, waiting until you feel the muscles go lax once more before continuing on your devious path. As your hands sail up his sides, you finally do what you’ve been wanting to since seeing him out in the garden; in quick succession, you leave a series of nips along his inner thigh.

Henry jolts like someone touched him with a live wire, his hips canting towards the ceiling of their own volition.

“Biggest tease in the world!” He exhales, blindly trying to find the top of your head even as you move it out of the path of his hand. Smiling, your lips find the oh-so-sensitive spot at the base of his thick length, sucking gently until you feel his breathing pick up sharply.

Not giving him time to think, you stroke him firmly root to tip as you move back to his inner thigh, biting just a little harder the second time around, your own excitement growing when he lets out a long, low moan, his voice going a touch hoarse at the end.

“Tell me what you want, babe. Do you want….my mouth? Or would you rather…?” You let the choice linger as you continue tormenting him, your smile unshakable as Henry begins to squirm, his hips thrusting gently through your hand, the desperation for release growing with every stroke you complete.

Henry murmurs his reply, his voice barely audible over the spray of the shower. You continue your ministrations, laving your tongue over the places you’ve nibbled and sucked, wondering if the evidence of your teasing will show come evening; it would certainly be an interesting place for hickies.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite--OOP!”

Henry makes his answer abundantly clear as he picks you up off the floor with ease, setting you down in his lap, his blue eyes intense as he locks his gaze with yours. This time, you have no time to react as you’re lifted even higher, Henry’s strong arms holding you exactly where he wants you. Your mouth drops open in shock as you feel his tongue snake inside you, his eyes never leaving yours as he makes sure you’re ready. When he feels you begin to grind, he slowly sets you back down, the movement as controlled as it is effortless for him. You make sure to grind against his cock in retaliation for his surprise feast.

“WOMAN!” He growls, Henry smirking victoriously as he lifts you once more, this time ensuring he gets a reaction as he takes up every last bit of room you have to offer.

You sink down to the hilt, your eyes rolling back at the delicious sensation of being so utterly filled. The indulgence only lasts a moment however, as Henry sets a demanding pace, bucking up hard enough to bounce you an inch or two off his lap with every thrust.

“Oh my god! Holy shit!” You squeak, holding onto his broad shoulders as you move with him, finding the primal rhythm the two of have had since the very first time.

“Ohh, now who’s getting teased?” Henry jokes, his eyebrows raised in mischief as he purposely slows down, bringing you flush against his chest with one hand while the other guides your hips as it cups your ass.

His lips find yours for a modicum of comfort as he continues the torturous pace, making sure you feel every inch coming and going. You mewl against his mouth, wordlessly begging for sweet release.

“Want to come, my love?” He asks teasingly between kisses, Henry’s lips moving south until they find your breasts, his hips ever so slowly increasing the pace once more, driving you wild. You can’t help but nod feverishly, moaning softly each time his cock hits that perfect spot inside, making you see stars.

The hand at your back finds your hair, Henry gathering it in his palm and pulling gently, exposing your neck to his own nips and kisses as he makes sure you grind down each time you find your seat on his thighs. Panting, you feel as though your heart might explode at any moment, but before you can even vocalize how good Henry’s making you feel, the pace switches back to blistering and you’re left to hold on for the ride as Henry’s hands find your shoulders for leverage.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh FUUUCCK!!” You scream. The friction, combined with the angle, makes the world come off its axis and every thought empty from your mind as you explode around Henry’s massive length.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he hisses, bouncing you just a little more before pulling you flush once again, his body stiff as he begins to spill inside you.

Completely wrecked, you can only cling to his biceps as your own orgasm continues to wreak havoc, spurned on by the feeling of Henry filling you to the brim.

You’re not sure which one of you turns off the shower, but looking at your fingers, you can’t help but crack a dazed smile, seeing each one more pruned than the one before it. You dread getting off Henry’s lap, but before you can even muster the coordination to move, you’re encased in his arms again, Henry standing and padding out of the shower, still fully sheathed inside you.

“Did I tell you I had the day off, love? Actions have consequences, and, well...We’ve only just begun.”

You can’t stop yourself from reaching down and smacking Henry’s ass with a still-wet hand, knowing full well your teasing will be matched...again and again and again.

#henry cavill #henry x reader #henry cavill smut #deathonyourtongueoriginals

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triptuckers · 3 years

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Two Homes (part 7/7) - Nikolai Lantsov

Request: no Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader Summary: after realising you can have two homes, you rush back to ravka Warnings: none Word count: 3.5K A/N: aaa the last part!! if you’ve read all of the parts I just want to say thank you so much for reading my work, it really means a lot to me! enjoy reading :) PREVIOUS PART TAG LIST (two homes and/or all grishaverse fics): @godsofwriting@im-constantly-fangirling @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15@dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy (if your name is in bold it means I couldn't tag you) add yourself to my tag lists here

The trip back to Ravka seems to take longer than the trip to Ketterdam. You kept taking out the tiny watch you kept in your pocket, only to find out no more than a few minutes had gone by. Saints, couldn’t this boat go any faster?

While it is in the middle of the night, you can’t sleep. There’s too much energy in your body.

On the ship, only a handful of crew members are awake, needed to make sure you were still heading toward Ravka. The rest of the people on the ship are below decks, probably fast asleep.

You’re pacing the ship, your mind running at an alarmingly speed. You think about the crows, and Ketterdam. And Nikolai and the palace. Would he be angry you left in such a hurry? Would he not accept your apology? Or worse; would he send you away?

Technically, he could. He’s the king after all. You didn’t think he would do it, but if he wanted to, he could make sure you never set foot in the palace again. What if you traveled back to Os Alta, only to be banned from the city?

You’re so lost in thought, pacing around, you don’t see one of the crew members looking at you. Only when he speaks up, you stop pacing to look at him.

‘Hey! You!’

He’s sweating as he’s pulling on the ropes, to keep the sail in place and making sure you sail toward Os Kervo and don’t end up somewhere in Fjerda.

‘If all you’re gonna do is walk around, you might as well help. Get over here.’ he says.

Without even thinking about it, you walk over to where he’s standing. After all, he was right. You might as well help. And it might take your mind off of everything that’s going on.

You roll up your sleeves, but keep your hood down to hide your face.

‘Grab this rope.’ he says, extending one of two ropes he’s holding to you. You firmly grip it with two hands. ‘And make sure to pull hard. Can you do that?’ he says. You nod and pull harder.

Immediately, you feel the pull of the wind, and you plant your feet firmly on the wooden deck. For the rest of the night, you make sure the rope doesn't slip out of your hands.

You get to talking with the other crew member who asked for your help and when you see the first rays of light and the city of Os Kervo in the distance, you realise you haven’t thought of Ketterdam or Os Alta for hours.

The crew member tells you you can let go of the rope and once you do, you feel your muscles relax. You hand him back the rope and walk over to the edge of the ship, to look at the city slowly creeping closer.

Despite the early hour, it’s already busy on the docks. Fishermen are walking around, loading and unloading their ships. People are waiting for your ship to arrive, probably welcoming home loved ones.

‘You ever been to Os Kervo?’

You look to your side and see the crew member. He looks young, about your age.

‘Once.’ you truthfully say. ‘But only passing through.’

‘And today?’ he says.

‘Also passing through.’ you say.

‘Traveling to?’ he asks.

‘North.’ you say. You didn’t need him to know exactly where you’re going.

‘Ah.’ he says. ‘What’s your name?’

‘Nina.’ you say, blurting out the first name that comes to mind.

He holds out his hand to you. ‘Nice to meet you, Nina. I hope we see each other again.’ he says.

You shake his hand. ‘Likewise.’ you say, but in your head you hope you never see him again. If he would recognise you, and the story would get out that the queen of Ravka illegally passed the True Sea, it would not be very pretty.

Thankfully, you’ve arrived at the docks and can get off the ship, quickly leaving the crew member behind.

You walk around the city, trying to find some kind of transport so you could get to Os Alta. Normally you’d hitch a ride on a carriage, but it seems too risky. So instead, you head for the small cottages and farms on the edge of the city.

At the oldest, shabbiest looking farmhouse, you stop. You walk around the property, and spot a horse.

You walk back to the front door and knock. It takes a while for someone to open. An old lady opens the door to you.

You smile at her. ‘Good morning, ma’am, sorry to wake you at this hour, but I was wondering if your horse is for sale?’ you ask her.

‘He’s not.’ she says.

‘That’s a shame.’ you say. ‘Your house looks very old. Couple of broken windows, wood rot. You could fix that with a generous amount of money, get someone from the city to help you out.’

‘I don’t have that kind of money.’ says the old lady, already moving to shut the door, but you plant your foot in front of it.

‘I can pay handsomely for the horse.’ you say. ‘I don’t think you ride anymore, do you?’

‘No, I don’t.’ she says.

You pull out a bag and shake it, making the coins inside clash against each other.

‘You get this, I get the horse.’ you say. ‘It’s enough to fix your house.’

She eyes you suspiciously. ‘Why would you give me this much money?’ she says.

‘Because I’m in a hurry. And I need a horse.’ you say.

‘Alright, then.’ she says. ‘Give me that money and you can fetch the horse.’

You hand the bag to her and thank her, heading around the farmhouse to the horse. He looks like a strong, healthy horse. You would be able to ride fast, cover a lot of distance. You thank the lady again, and mount the horse.

Without another look at Os Kervo, you start your journey to the palace. You ride for hours without stopping, constantly ushering your horse to go faster. Luckily, he’s a young one, and he can indeed go very fast.

But eventually, you have to stop. Not only to give the horse some rest, but also because your stomach had been growling loudly for the past hour. And now that the sun is up, it’s getting hotter and hotter. You can feel it burning in your neck.

You roll up your sleeves and take off your hood. When you’re riding in the fields, you could allow yourself to be a little less afraid someone might recognise you. And after all, you’re in Ravka now, not Ketterdam. You could only hope word of your absence hadn’t spread too fast throughout the country.

You leave your horse just outside a small village. After finding a bakery, you buy some bread and water with the money you have left. The village is old and charming. Once you finish your bread, you walk back to your horse. You drink half of your water and give the other half to the horse. You then mount the horse again and take off.

The sun is still hot in your neck but you don’t slow down. You needed to get to Os Alta as fast as you could. Sweat drips from your forehead to your neck. You still had a long way to go.

Hours later, you finally see the city of Os Alta appearing in the distance. It had since gotten colder, and it’s late in the evening. At the outskirts of the city, you leave your horse and find a place to wash up.

After washing off most of the sweat, you run your fingers through your hair and roll your sleeves down. You pull your hood further down and resume your way on foot.

Most of Os Alta’s inhabitants had retired to pubs or their homes. A few people still walked the streets, on their way home or loudly singing songs, smelling strongly of alcohol.

You feel relieved when you see the palace’s gates in the distance. As you approach the guard who is stationed in front of the closed gates, you lower your hood.

The cool air feels more than good after you’d kept your hood on for the biggest part of your journey. You smile as you walk up to the guard.

‘Hi.’ you say.

He doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. This makes you frown.

‘Are you going to let me in?’ you say.

Now, he does look at you. It feels a bit weird to have him look you up and down and scan your face.

‘No, ma’am.’ he eventually says.

‘No?’ you say. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean no, I am not going to let you in.’ he says.

‘Do you know who I am?’ you say, thinking he was new on the job and you hadn’t been introduced to him yet.

‘No, ma’am.’ he says.

‘I’m Y/N.’ you say. ‘Y/N Lantsov, I live at the palace.’

He raises a single eyebrow at your words. ‘And I’m the king.’ he says.

‘You don’t believe me?’ you say. ‘Go and get Nikolai or someone else to confirm it’s me.’

‘King Nikolai isn’t present at the palace at the moment.’ says the guard. ‘And how do I know you’ve not been tailored to look like the queen?’

Your mouth falls open in surprise. You knew Nikolai made sure the guard are well trained, but this seemed like he’d done too good a job at it.

‘Saints, this is going tot take forever.’ you mumble to yourself.

‘Problem?’ says a familiar voice suddenly behind you.

You turn around and see Nikolai on his horse, accompanied by Zoya, Tamar and Tolya.

‘Nikolai.’ you say gratefully as you walk up to him.

He smiles at you and holds out his hand for you to take, but Zoya speaks up.

‘Wait.’ she says. ‘How do we know you’re really Y/N? She left in a hurry. You could be anyone pretending to be her.’

You look at her. Zoya did have a point. You turn back to Nikolai, who is still smiling at you.

‘When was our first kiss?’ asks Nikolai.

You feel yourself blushing. Of course he would have to ask a personal question to confirm it really is you. But this felt a little too personal for your taste.

‘Right before our wedding.’ you say softly. ‘Because I was nervous.’

When you look up at Nikolai he’s still smiling down at you. ‘It’s her.’ he confirms. You finally take his hand and mount his horse, sitting behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist.

The guard finally opens the gates, and you enter the palace grounds. Nikolai is silent as he heads to the stables. He doesn’t even say anything as the two of you get off his horse.

Even during the entire walk to your shared rooms, Nikolai is quiet. You want to ask him if he’s okay, if he’s okay with you being here, but a part of you tells you he needs this walk to clear his mind.

Once you get to your rooms and you shut the door behind you, you barely have time to turn around before Nikolai pulls you in his arms.

You’re a bit taken back by his actions, but are quick to embrace him. You feel how Nikolai drops his head to your shoulder and shuffles even closer to you. You smile as you hold on to Nikolai.

The two of you stand like that for a while. Just holding each other, glad to be reunited.

When Nikolai pulls back he smiles at you, and finally speaks up. ‘You came back.’ he says.

‘I did.’ you say. ‘Kaz talked some sense into me.’

Nikolai blinks in surprise. ‘Kaz Brekker was the one to talk sense into you?’ he says.

‘Yes. He made me realise I can have to homes.’ you say. ‘And we need to talk about that.’

‘Okay.’ says Nikolai, taking your hand and walking you back to the bed to sit down. ‘What exactly do we need to talk about? Because I can think of a few things, but I want to hear you out first.’

‘I thought I’d be happy once I got back to Ketterdam.’ you say. ‘And I was, for a while. It felt so good to see all of them again. And, uh, help them out every now and then.’

If Nikolai knew what you had really been doing during your life in Ketterdam, he didn’t show it. He didn’t say anything, waiting for you to continue.

‘It really felt good to be home in Ketterdam. But the more time passed, the less happy I got. I missed the palace, the life I built here, but most of all I missed you, Nikolai. Kaz was the one to tell me I can have two homes.’ you say.

Nikolai smiles at you after you finish talking. He brings your intertwined hands up and kisses your knuckles.

‘I missed you.’ he says. ‘I thought you weren’t happy here, so when you said you wanted to go to Ketterdam, I felt like I had no choice but to let you go. So I did. But I really am glad you’re back, Y/N. The palace felt a lot bigger without you in it.’

‘How boring were the meetings without me?’ you ask him.

Nikolai sighs deeply. ‘Very.’ he says. ‘I didn’t have to make sure you stayed awake, so I had no choice but to listen to every little detail they said.’ he says.

You chuckle, thinking back to the countless of times Nikolai had to keep you awake during the meetings.

As you look at him, it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time all over again. You let your eyes roam over his face, taking in every detail. You had really missed him.

‘Nikolai?’ you say softly.

‘Yes, sweetheart?’ he says.

‘While I was in Ketterdam, I realised something else.’ you say.

‘That the food here is better?’ says Nikolai.

‘They don’t have Ketterdam waffles here.’ you point out. ‘But no.’

You look at him, taking your time once more to take in his face.

‘I realised that over time, all those days we spent together, I’ve grown to love you. I don’t want to leave you like I did ever again.’ you say.

You watch as Nikolai’s face breaks into a huge grin. ‘You love me?’ he says.

‘I do.’ you say. You hold up your hand, showing him the ring. ‘This should be a pretty good reminder of it.’

Nikolai grabs your face with both of his hands, pulls it towards his and smashes his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss. You can tell he’s still smiling. And when he pulls away, there’s indeed still a big and proud smile on his face.

‘I love you.’ he says. ‘I should have never let you go like that. I should have gone with you, or made sure you had reason to stay. I won’t let you leave again, Y/N, you’re my queen, and I love you.’

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss to both of his cheeks.

‘We can make this marriage work, Nikolai. I want to make it work. On one condition, though.’ you say.

‘Name it.’ says Nikolai.

‘I promised I would visit Ketterdam every summer.’ you say. ‘To see all of my friends and spend time with them.

‘That seems like a fair deal.’ says Nikolai. ‘Then I’ve got a condition as well.’

‘Anything.’ you say.

‘You have to accompany me on every boring meeting, otherwise I will fall asleep during every single one of them. And we go for a walk through the gardens every evening.’ he says.

‘Deal.’ you say.

Nikolai smiles and rises from the bed, offering his hand to you. ‘Shall we go on a walk then?’ he says.

You smile and gladly accept his hand and get up. The two of you walk the familiar route to the gardens, and you can’t help but to sneak glances at him. It was already dark outside, but somehow there was still a twinkle in his eyes, and his blonde hair seemed to glow.

‘Are you trying to remember every detail of my face by looking at me so many times, love?’ he says after a while. ‘I’m flattered, honestly. But you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, you can spend plenty of time looking at me.’

‘I know.’ you say. ‘But I missed a few days, I’m catching up on lost time.’

Nikolai chuckles and pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your cheek. ‘You’re truly adorable.’ he says, making you blush.

You reach the gardens and automatically walk to your favorite spot. When you sit down on the bench, you look at the familiar bush in front of you.

‘I’m on time.’ you say.

Nikolai looks at the bush as well and nods. ‘You are. David says Summers Week will most likely bloom next week.’ he says. ‘And when it does, I’ll get you a new flower, to keep with the one I got you last year.’

You turn to smile at him. ‘I can start collecting them.’ you say. ‘One for each year.’

‘One for each year.’ Nikolai repeats. ‘I really am glad you’re back, Y/N. It felt weird, not having you around. I felt like some part of me was missing. Maybe because it was.’

‘Well, I’m here now.’ you say. ‘And I don’t plan on leaving soon.’

‘Except for your summer trip to Ketterdam.’ says Nikolai.

‘Except for that trip. You should come with me, I bet they’d love to meet you some day.’ you say.

Nikolai smiles. ‘Some of them have met me.’ he says.

You frown. ‘They have? They didn’t mention it when I was there.’ you say.

‘That’s probably because they didn’t know it was me.’ he says. ‘They also met Genya and Zoya. They were accompanying me but I wasn’t, well, me.’

‘I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not.’ you say, suppressing a yawn.

‘Oh, darling, I’m not. One day I’ll tell you the story of Sturmhond.’ he says.

‘Sturmhond?’ you say and Nikolai nods. ‘Why not tell me now?’

‘Because you have been trying to hide your yawning since we came here, and I think it’s time you went to bed.’ says Nikolai with a chuckle.

‘You’re right, I should. It’s been a long day.’ you say. ‘I left in the middle of the night and only stopped once when I got to Ravka.’

‘You only stopped once? Saints, Y/N, how come you didn’t collapse on a bed once you got here?’ says Nikolai.

‘Because I wanted to talk to you and spend some time with you first.’ you say.

Nikolai’s features soften and he smiles at you. ‘I appreciate that. But now please let me take you back to our room before you fall asleep in the gardens.’ he says.

You get up and intertwine your fingers with his once more, and you start walking back to the palace. When you walk the halls, you run into Genya.

She looks surprised but happy to see you, as she shoots you a warm smile. You briefly let go of Nikolai’s hand to hug her. She must have noticed your tired state, because she tells you that you’d catch up tomorrow morning.

You’re grateful when you get to your room. After taking a quick bath to scrub the sweat and dirt off of your body, you change into a comfortable night dress. When you get back to the bedroom, you see Nikolai is fidgeting with a piece of rope.

He shows you the small boat he made when you approach the bed. You smile and take it from him, placing it on your nightstand.

The second you lay down under the covers, you feel your body already dozing off. You close your eyes and feel how Nikolai lays down on his side of the bed. You knew the bed was big enough to keep your distance, but you didn’t have to anymore.

You move closer to Nikolai, cuddling to his side. He wraps an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. Nikolai softly traces shapes on your bare arm.

He moves his head to kiss your forehead and mumble a very soft “goodnight, love”.

You feel yourself drifting off to sleep, a very faint smile on your lips. It feels good to be home right next to Nikolai. And you’re glad that you have two homes now. Ketterdam, with your crows. And Os Alta, with your king.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

#:') the last one #why am I emotional #also do not listen to hozier when writing it will make you yearn & feel sad at the sametime #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fanfics #Nikolai Lantsov fic #Nikolai Lantsov fics #shadow and bone fanfiction #shadow and bone fanfic #shadow and bone fanfics #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone fics #two homes series

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nellynee · 3 years

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The makings of greatness, or why, as a ride or die Treasure Planet stan, I’m glad there’s no Treasure Plant 2

You ever see somethings that makes you unreasonably angry? Yes I understand exactly what I’m saying, and how that indicates that my emotions and opinions on this are exactly that. Opinions. There’s a good chance I have some objective truths mixed in, but that does not make my opinions based on those truths truth. If you disagree or have different tastes or opinions or interpretations, cool, let me know! maybe you’ll change my mind. That being said.

The plot synopsis for the Treasure Planet sequel makes me angry. Not like, actively so, just annoyed enough to be in a bad mood. And now you guys all have to be in one as well. Why?

Reason 1, and probably least important: Disney sequel syndrome.

Ok so Disney sequels aren’t inherently bad. I’ll stan the Aladdin sequels to my grave, who knew Cinderella could world build, obligatory Rescuers Down Under (the first one was better) blah blah blah.

But there is an inherit problem with sequels in general, and that usually has to do with cast and crew. An original piece of fiction has to grab the audience yes, but there’s also freedom in that. Media touches people in different way. The worldbuilding can mean more to some than others. Some are in it for the animation, or the character developments, or relationships. What connects with one person won’t connect with another. The problem with sequels is that different people who worked out the original material might and usually do not work on the new. And those new people are already working on that new material with their own personal lenses and experiences and interpretations coloring the old. The reason sequels (and remakes, and big budget presentations of other materials like books into movies) tend to bomb hard is because you are essentially being forced to accept someone’s fanfiction into the canon material. Usually, there’s a pretty strong correlation between more successful franchises/extension material, works staying true to the core material, original crew working on the material, and the enjoyment of the audience.

And sources say very few of the original crew remained. Some yes, but mostly voice cast. Even worse, TP2 was a DisneyToon production, not even a mainline feature. Now I’m not saying the new people weren’t talented, or passionate about the project, or were lacking in experience. It doesn’t really matter if any of those things are true or not. It’s the warping of their personal lenses I don’t trust. Fanfic I can disregard, meta I can disregard. This would have been canon.

And reading the Artbook makes is abundantly clear that the parts that touched me personally would have been missing. The very core of Treasure Planet for me was the relationship between Jim and Silver (and their exquisite animation budget). However you choose to interpret that relationship, you can not deny that Treasure Planet is a powerfully emotionally romantic movie. It’s quiet moments and emotional resonance shaped my views of intimacy with a sharp and fine touch. Silver and Jim’s bond is as undeniable and powerful as it is compelling and awe inspiring to witness unfold.

And a lot of that is owed not only to the voice acting of Joseph Gorden-Levitt (Jim) and Brian Murray (Silver), But to animators Glen Keane and John Ripa, who were the head animators of Silver and Jim respectively. Not only did Gorden-Levitt and Brian Murray deliver stunning performances, but made sure to work together and jointly play off each other in ways most voice actors don’t have the opportunity to do. And the Masters Keane and Ripa took an already stellar and carefully crafted vocal rapport and took it one step further. I highly recommend the Artbook as a good read, both Keane and Ripa talk about the journey of discovering who Jim and Silver were with delight, acting out entire scenes together using their own body language to build the characters together, using the same animation reals to animate, tag teaming in and out of the program rather than do it separately, becoming so attuned with their characters attitudes and mannerisms that you can tell they poured entire pieces of themselves into Jim and Silver.

I’m not saying the Sequel would have been inherently bad because it’s a sequel, or because a new crew worked on it, but I am saying I wouldn’t trust it with a ten foot pole.

Reason 2: Thanks I hate it (I’m saying it’s inherently bad because the plot is bad and I hate it)

I’m sorry for the length, but for you to really understand just how bad this is, I actually have to pick through every single line and tell you why it fails critically at some junctures and where it would be so simple to fix. For those of you who were unaware that there was a sequel in the works at some point, I’m pulling these quotes pretty much wholesale from the AnimateVeiws article Buried Treasure: The ill-fated voyage to Treasure Planet 2, specifically the interview with Jun Falkenstein who was set to direct the now canceled sequel. Spoiler warning, I guess?

So, from the begining

“The sequel was to pick up where the first film left off, with Jim Hawkins going to the Royal Interstellar Academy. At the Academy, he is a hotshot “natural,” but he doesn’t follow the rules very well.” - Strong start but then dropped the finish. I think the interstellar academy would be a very compelling starting point. I see no fault in it at least, it’s a good opportunity to world build. Clemence and Musket like to make a point that Jim was crafted to connect with the emotionally wounded and distant youth in a age of divorce, so showing what happens when that youth hikes up their britches and gets to work can extend on that theme aaaaaaand you dropped it. Dropped that strong start. Yes, Jim was more than a bit of a bite back rebel in the film, but that was a reactionary response to the bad place he started in. Jim was abandoned, and tied his self worth into that abandonment. His kickback against society was a reaction stemming from an inability to see his personal worth and any sort of future he could craft from it. He outgrew this, his very character development was about this in the film. His character arc was about realizing his inherent worth, embracing a sense of confidence and learning what he could do. Even disregarding that, bonus material outside of the film shows that Jim has a very strong sense of respect for Captain Amelia, her military career, and the hard work she put into it, and he’s there on her recommendation. Why would he act out in this? He is a natural yes, but the film shows he’s incredibly sharp and intelligent, if unlearned, and more than ready to learn given opportunity.

“Hence, he gets off to a shaky start – especially with his classmate Kate, who is very smart and has a type A personality. Kate’s father is Admiral Blake, the Commander of the Navy. Jim and Kate vie for top of the class but have very different skills.” - So building off this to fix the problem before. I guess the dynamic they are going for is something like “the kind of a jerk hotshit hotshot who’s got it all figured out and the straight laced rule fallowing stick in the ass rival”? I’m not apposed to to a rivalry, but lets tweak this, given how “hot shot natural jerk” isn’t really where Jim settles at the end of the film. Jim is a natural talent, who excels under tutelage, but more importantly, he has practical experience. While the time period spent on the RLS Legacy is not defined, they do sail to a deep and unexplored part of the galaxy, probably well outside of regular settlements, so no small distance, though Jim is young enough that a very long period of time would be noted in physical growth. Given comparisons to classic nautical sailing of the source time, months, perhaps up to a year? That’s a long time to spend, learning the rough and tumble basics, tying knots, experiencing food and water rations, extreme temperatures, playing with the rigging and mechanical aspects of the boat. Jim knows what it’s like to actually sail. Meanwhile, this is the Royal Academy, who probably takes in upper class second born children and pumps out military accolades for well learned mathematicians and strategists. Jim doesn’t fit in because he can visualize, he can think outside of the box, he can weld a damn engine to a hunk of shrapnel and ignite it freefalling against a metal hellscape and outrace a boat in a high adrenaline situation. He adapts where the other’s frantically look through their notes for the answer. Worse yet, he’s poor and not classically educated. Make it a class issue. In this aspect I do like Kate. Being the Daughter of the Commander of the Navy, she probably has a very technical and far more expansive understanding of navel ships, particularly the running of them. In this way Jim and Kate are perfect foils. Jim representing the poor, instinctually and practically knowledgeable crew, and Kate the upper-class, technically knowledgeable command, a dichotomy representing the haves and have nots in their skills, experiences, an class.

I don’t want to post a picture and break the post, but I do love Kate’s design. I do recommend looking up the article and checking it out. that being said, being a feline species, they messed up not spelling it Cate.

“Captain Amelia is dean of the Academy, which has a brand-new vessel: the Centurion.” - I… why, why is Amelia the dean? Additional material shows that Amelia broke ties with the military because she didn’t like their rule stickling ways and red tape. Why would she want a red tape position? She helped with a war and then bailed first opportunity to become a freelance captain so she could fallow her own rules. Even if you don’t know any of that additional material, you do know that she is a freelance captain. Why is she dean? what happened to the old one? Are they dead? Did DisneyToon kill them? Did Disneytoon kill the old dean?

“Designed by Doctor Doppler, the Centurion is the fastest ship in the galaxy.” - HE’S NOT THAT KIND OF DOCTOR!

“B.E.N. is its pilot”. - NO

In all seriousness all three of those statements show a serious problem, in that none of those characters are in fact those things. Amelia I’ve already explained. But Doppler was a debatably youngish bachelor with too much money who was fascinated by astronomy specifically and who suffered from ennui. And BEN was a navigational unit, so maybe it makes sense for him to be a pilot, but why is a robot who was functioning under a galaxy feared pirate for who knows how long given any kind of agency over a brand new incredibly important ship? These decisions were probably made to incorporate as much of the old cast as possible, to not exclude fan faves. But any decision that makes BEN a prominent part of the plot and thus gets more screen time is a BAD one.

“The pirate Ironbeard desires to commandeer the Centurion. This ruthless villain is relatively all iron – almost nothing of whom he originally was, inside and out, is left.” - On the one hand, I have a weird feeling that this would somehow violate the 30-70 rule. Buuuuut on the other hand, the Artbook does describe the decision making process of what and how was mechanical on Silver (my favorite tidbit was the wheel on his head representing his constant thinking and assessing) and states that that they in a way represent the pieces of humanity he gave up looking for Flint’s Trove. Extending that to a pirate who has given up everything could be a powerful thematic tool if used right (or intentionally)

“He leads a group of pirates to hijack the Centurion while Jim and Kate are aboard.” - ok, yeah, I’ll buy that. If they are butting heads constantly, I could see them sneaking off to the new piece of hardware to one up each other on who knows their stuff, or maybe bond over wanting to learn about the said new tech and being frustrated with restrictions.

“The Navy can’t catch the Centurion, due to the vessel’s speed and armor.”- sure

“Jim and Kate escape the Centurion. Jim decides he needs a pirate to help catch pirates. They find his old buddy Long John Silver in the Lagoon Nebula, where he is running a smuggling ring. “ - So what Jim just goes “I know just the pirate to help us” and then finds him? That journey of itself deserves it’s own movie, anything less is a disappointment. Alternative. Jim and Kate escape onto a particularly lawless planet. Jim has some tricks to keep them safe and fed, maybe he even excels in ways he’s been straight up stop gapped at the academy. Maybe his knowhow is appreciated by others who society also rejects. But Kate is a frustrating fish out of water, getting offended and worked up over things that are big deals to an average citizen but not criminals and pirates. But such reactions are putting them in danger and she needs to get perspective fast. It’s plausible maybe that Silver tracks them down through interesting rumors, but more than that, let it be fate. Neither having any idea the other is there till the second they see each other. Bonus points if Jim and Kate get in a bind and Silver is the leader of the harassers. Better yet lets add some thematic mirroring not only to the scene where Silver saved Jim from Scroop, but directly contrast it to the scene where Silver doubled back and down against the notion of caring for Jim when called out before the mutiny. *kisses finger* Touching and hilarious.

“ Silver agrees to help when he hears about the Centurion. “ - Silver agrees to help when he hears about the Centurion without Jim even having to ask. Storywise, lets make some kind of deal over how Jim, an upstanding enrollee of the academy, apparently is chummy with a pirate. Tension doesn’t just have to be external, and Kate is the daughter of the Commander of the Army. Maybe she’s recognized and this gets them in trouble. Maybe Kate has issues with her identity outside of her father’s career and need to learn a lesson about being outside of a rigid social structure?

“Jim and Kate receive a tracking signal from B.E.N. – who is currently hostage aboard the Centurion – and follow via Silver’s creaky vessel. They discover the Centurion docked near the Botany Bay Prison Asteroid. “ - While being the fastest ship yet is a good excuse for wanting it to get stolen, my suspension of disbelief breaks a little at any ship, let alone a creaky little pirate vessel, catching up to the fastest ship yet, or the tracking signal being the only way to track it to a guarded prison. Seeing as how I’ve written BEN out of this scenario lets fix it. After the events of the movie, the Royal Military swoops in after to confiscate the debris of Treasure Planet. For those in the know, canon lore states that the Planet was a giant computer, and it and the map were the byproducts of an ancient and advanced civilization. Studying the debris led to the Centurion, notable not for it’s speed, but for it’s stealth. It can cloak itself. Which is why no-one can find it. Meanwhile Silver lets it slip that he snagged the map from it’s pedestal as they escaped the planet as a souvenir. (handwave why the portal was still open with a “the whole thing was exploding, the computer froze). The map is able to track the remnants of said planet, aka the Centurion, meaning Silver has the only means of tracking the cloaked ship

“Ironbeard is using the Centurion to disable Botany Bay’s security systems. Jim, Kate and Silver sneak aboard the Centurion, where Silver reveals to Jim that he wants to take the Centurion for himself. He asks Jim to join him.“ YES. YES YES YES YES YES YES! Understanding that Jim’s decision to not go with Silver in the first movie is key here. He rejected Silver’s offer the first time because Silver had shown him he had intrinsic value, and Jim finally felt that the natural gifts he had were worth cultivating, that he did have the chance to explore who he could be on his own terms. Jim was comfortable being on his own, because he felt capable. Now, Jim and Silver bring out the best in each other, and the time apart has done them harm. Jim’s strings of social rejections are starting to fell like a glass ceiling he can’t overcome, and is finding more and more comfort in being a big fish in a pirates small pond, and the emotions of of being wanted that come with Silver is a powerful drug. But it’s a one way ticket away from any opportunities he could work towards, not to mention his barely repaired relationship with his mother. Meanwhile Silver has been slowly slipping back into the colder, more selfish self he was, a necessity for his lifestyle, and doesn’t want to loose his connection to Jim and what Jim brings out in him, but is still far enough gone to make the offer and try for the boat anyways, even if he knows it’s not what’s best. It’s an emotionally compelling decision. You want them to say yes, you know they shouldn’t

“Kate overhears this and is horrified, especially since the two have, of course, started falling for each other during the adventure.” - Hate. this I hate. Leaving shipping to they way side, what’s that “of course”? why do they have to fall for each other? Why the Disneytoon sequel love interest? I have a feeling her characterization would come at the cost of it. Why can’t they be rivals? why can’t they develop a mutual respect outside of attraction? Why can’t they both learn an individualized lesson about finding their own place in the world outside of social constraints as foils without macking? I hate this concept. Kate overhears, and is horrified, because Silver is a Pirate which is actually in universe get yourself hanged offense, and Jim is considering this, and they are going to steal a VERY IMPORTANT BOAT and and leave her stranded in a dagerous prison, and are making an objectively morally bad decision.

“Ironbeard discovers the intruders, charging into a fight in which Silver is injured. Meanwhile, the other pirates throw down ladders to the prison below, allowing swarms of elated prisoners to climb up into the ship. Silver, Jim, and Kate exit the Centurion amidst all the confusion. However, Ironbeard shoots down Silver’s ship. They plummet to the prison asteroid below, crash-landing” - cool. Drama. But for my purposes, lets tweak it so Silver isn’t injured yet. But I really want to emphasize that this attack does not interrupt before Jim can react to Silver’s offer. Even something as tentative as “I’m not sure” has consequences. None of this “misunderstanding” BS.

“ Kate is angry at Jim and storms off. “- again, make it clear that Jim showed a real chance of agreeing to steal the ship. if she’s angry before he had a chance to answer that’s contrivance for drama’s sake. Give her a reason to be mad

“ Jim is about to blow her off as well when Silver tells him to give her a chance. He reveals a part of his past through a flashback, when a young (non-cyborg) Silver screwed up a relationship with the love of his life – a decision which directly led to his life of piracy. “ - nope. nope nope nope . I’m gonna put a big old * here because this is reason number 3 why I hate this potential movie, and I will get to that believe me, but here’s me, putting a pin in it. That being said, have Silver selfishly try to double down on getting Jim to join him in a three way argument instead. This is the conflict of the film. Kate, who was learning to grow outside of the strict restrictions of her life and do her own work, make her own way, is being rejected. She is as morally repulsed as she is hurt that she wasn’t included, and hates herself for that hurt as well. Jim is torn between the freedom of what he could be after the academy paired with the strict social constructs around it, and the freedom of a life “full of himself and no ties to anyone” but running from the law and the two friends they represent. Silver is the aggressor here. He likes Kate, he does, but he loves Jim and only has one place in his heart, and has spent his life being selfish. There’s already a crew on board, and Iron beard is hooked into the Centurion. With having the only other means to navigate, they take down ironbeard, the rest will surely fall in line. This is paydirt. A fantastic ship, a bloodthirsty crew, and Jim.

“Silver has a very dangerous cargo with him that he had been trying to smuggle and sell for a fortune, which has the power of a neutron bomb. Jim, Kate and Silver reconcile and work together to fix Silver’s ship and prevent the Centurion, filled with the most evil pirates in the galaxy, from going on an insane robbing-and-killing spree. At the last second, Silver reluctantly gives up his “retirement fund” in order to destroy the Centurion, with Ironbeard and all the pirates on board.” - this entire section needs rewritten. That’s a mcguffin Silver put it away. I have retconned the mcguffin to be the old map, so that is now moot. Now to not blow up the ship. Afterall, Silver and Jim have both already overcome what Treasure Planet represented with it’s destruction. Rather, B plot

If we are that desperate to have past characters in, let’s have Amelia and Delbert back home. When the Centurion is captured, Amelia immediately volunteers to fallow, feeling responsible for Jim and secretly pining for some adventure. Delbert feels the same, and he to a bit of an adrenaline junkie after the events of the first movie, but they have the children to think about and only one can leave. Delbert is the one chosen to help by the navy officials searching for the Centurion. While Amelia bickers with the Admiral Blake over his pragmatic but emotionally distant decisions over the situation of his missing daughter, Delbert is an astronomer, and is blah blah blah science meta, fallow the flashing and bending lights around the cloaked ship to find it. As in Delbert is helpful. Amelia in a reflation to Admiral Blake, is torn between her family and commandeering her own ship to help. Blake is frustratingly headstrong in his decisions, and the script makes it seem like that emotional distance is disinterests, but reveals to the audience that it incorporates a great deal of suppression of his anxieties and worries over his daughter, and trust in her abilities, though he has issues expressing this pride to Kate herself. Amelia, Delbert and fam make what is probably a poor decision in commandeering a ship and leaving on their own to track the Centurion, the navy hot on their heels.

Back to A plot, the navy is approaching. Jim has to make a decision. He is the only one who knows how to unmask the ship using the old ones tech without training, as it’s based off the map. While Kate and Silver are distracting iron beard, he has to either steal the ship and sail off, or uncloak it for the navy. Iron beard is taken down, but not without Silver getting injured. Jim decides that Silver’s life is worth more than anything, and after agreeing with Kate that she’ll commandeer a doctor and wont let Silver die, uncloaks the ship. The Centurion is retaken in a blaze of naval glory that is the action climax. The pirates fight back up are over run. Maybe Kate gets taken hostage as the Admirals daughter, as an opportunity for a resolution with her arc as Blake’s distant daughter, though obviously said resolution comes at her showing her abilities in taking care of herself and the practical skills she has learned.

“Silver again parts from Jim and Kate, telling them to take care of each other. A few years later, Jim and Kate graduate with honors, while a proud Silver secretly watches from the shadows, smiling” - Boooooo. Kate and her dad make up, and she challenges him that she’s going to one day Captain the Centurion, with him understanding that she needs less a mentor and more an emotional support while she works her way up the ranks. She invites Jim to be her first mate, to which Jim accepts as a navigator, (a thing I’ve pointed out to be his real strength in another post). But to Silver, who has been “pardoned” for his part in retaking the Centurion, the movie hinting that he to would be on the eventual crew there I fixed it fic to come I s2g.

yeah there’s a lot of good there, but it’s so easy to fix the bad it’s frustrating. which brings me to

Reason 3: that little pin

Nope nope nope I’ll tell you why.

First of all, sources like the artbook say that Jim is so Important to Silver because he’s the first person Silver has ever let become important. he’s specifically stated to have no family, never married, no children. And that’s something he cultivated actively. His life of piracy, his metal limbs, his loneliness and moral failings were all gleefully accumulated for one reason and one reason only

Treasure Planet.

Treasure Planet was the great love of Silver’s life. It was a lifelong obsession. It destroyed his body, took his youth, his opportunities and nearly his life. He broke Jim’s heart over it.

And he let it go. For Jim.

And Jim understood this

This is the crux of treasure planet’s very themes. This is where Jim found self worth. Another person finally looked at him and said “you matter, you matter more than anything. I like being around you and I choose you first.” and it made Jim realize he’s someone worth choosing.

The treasure was EVERYTHING to Silver, and Silver let it go, for Jim.

That one line there, attributing the start of Silver’s fall to a girl? that actively retcons the entire theme of the previous movie. IT rewrite the emotional linchpin of Silver’s sacrifice of the gold. And actually fuck that. right into the ground. I do not accept. I do not pass go. I refuse. Fuck you non existent movie. That makes me mad. every single time. Hate I shall never let go.

#Disney #Treasure Planet #Jim Hawkins #long john silver #john silver #long post #meta #god I hate this non existent movie #This outline is the closest I've ever come to writing spitefic and its still up in the air #Treasure Planet is such a romantic movie and you come into my house and try to shred the emotional core and themes by recontextualizing?#fuck off #Fuck I love Treasure Planet #sequel synopsis can die in a fire tho

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

Text

Stabbed

This was written following an anon request that read as follows:

Hello sweetie, can I please request a dean x reader one shot in which she gets stabbed during a rough hunt and it's a race against time to save her (maybe Sam is the one driving and dean gets in the backseat with her?) And dean is scared of losing her and he has a panic attack after she wakes up but she manages to calm him down?

Obviously everyone’s experiences with panic attacks are different, but I tend to think if Dean had one it might manifest more externally as a violent outburst; I think he would subconsciously feel like it’s a more acceptable way to express ~freaking the fuck out~. This fic is sort of loosely set during early season 3, partly because that contextualization made sense to me with what you were describing and partly because I feel like that tenderhearted, slightly-less-jaded Dean would be more likely to allow himself to be perceived as vulnerable in such a fraught moment.

I’ve also taken a couple liberties with the medical situation described for literary purposes. 😋 Don’t @ me, I know this isn’t exactly how hypovolemic shock plays out.

Title: Stabbed

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4206

Summary: Dean’s anxiety gets the best of him when the reader appears fatally injured on a hunt, and is soothed only after the danger is gone.

Warnings: canon-appropriate violence, description of panic attack, swearing

Sam slammed the door once Dean had hauled you into the backseat, propping you up like a mannequin next to him on the bench. Your vision was starting to fade in and out, but the sense memory of the muscles in Dean’s side and the leather seat underneath you were comforting anyway. It seemed like the car started flying before Sam had even closed the driver’s side door and you tried hard to focus on Dean’s babbling.

“You’ll be able to give me shit about this one forever, right, kid? Should’ve listened to you, you said they would’ve left the barn by the time we got there. Always so smart, when am I going to learn?” He was trying to chuckle but it came out breathy and wrong, Dean never quite able to actually hit the casual affect he wanted in moments like this. Honestly, it made you more nervous, knowing that for injuries he wasn’t worried about he wanted to look over you with clinical precision, chastise you for being careless. He only did this pretend calm when he was trying to keep it together—you used to think it was only for you or Sam but after a few years and more than a few bad scares you started to understand it for the defense mechanism it truly was. Not that you needed extra evidence that this was bad; you could feel the life leeching out of you like a water balloon with a pinprick leak.

“Hey, come on—open your eyes for me, lemme see those stunners,” he said, guiding your chin up where you had begun to slump onto his shoulder. “Perfect, yeah, just like that. Hey, stay with me—”

You mustered up everything you had to swim to the surface of the sleep-darkness your body so desperately wanted and straightened your spine to take a deep breath. Bad idea, the wounds in your side feeling like they were splitting you clean in half even through the haze. At least it woke you up for a moment to catch Dean’s eyes, fiery with panic even as he tried to smile.

“Dean, I—” you started, feeling like your throat was full of broken glass.

“Babe, don’t try to talk, it’s okay, you can tell me whatever it is when we get to a hospital.”

Sam turned his head away from the rural highway the Impala was absolutely sailing down to look back at his older brother. “We’re hours away from a hospital, we’ve gotta go back to the motel,” he said, low and serious.

“If we’re hours away from a hospital then I guess we’re driving for a couple hours, aren’t we, Sammy?” Dean was getting worse and worse at covering the hard edge of fear-driven anger in his voice as the seconds ticked by.

“Dean, we—she’s—we don’t have a couple hours.”

Dean closed his eyes tight and set his jaw firm. “We’re going to a fucking hospital.”

His brother swerved deftly around a giant pothole, somehow able to turn the wheel so slightly that the car’s path barely changed. “Listen to me. She can’t bleed like that for long enough to get to a hospital. We have to try to handle this one ourselves or there’s no chance—”

The whole conversation felt like it was happening to someone else, your senses starting to detach from your body, and you couldn’t hold onto those trains of thought for long enough to process them. You were forced to expend all the energy you had on what you needed to say, and reached for Dean’s hand with a weak grip.

“Dean, look at me.”

He sounded like a hurt puppy when he said, “please,” and you knew he was asking you not to make him listen but you were worried you were out of options, out of time. That frantic smile looked almost crazed as it started to quiver on his face, eyelashes clumping with moisture.

“Sam, can you hear me too?” you asked, frustrated in an abstract way at how frail your voice sounded.

He gave one tight nod in the rearview mirror with a jaw set firm as iron, and when he said “Yes—yeah,” it was choked.

“I love you idiots so much. These last—ow, Jesus—however many years have been some of the most fun I’ve ever had. I wouldn’t take it back for anything. Sam, I—you’re the best friend I’ve ever had and I—fuck,” you winced, something about the breath you took to keep from crying sending an electric jolt of pain through you and doubling you over.

“It’s okay, I know,” Sam said up into the rearview mirror, and you couldn’t tell if the way the headlights were falling on the trees impossibly fast was something about your sight being distorted, because if it wasn’t then you were surprised the Impala hadn’t broken some kind of land speed record. You made a mental note to tell Dean to start drag racing before remembering you might not tell him anything ever again. What you were nearly positive you weren’t imagining were the break in Sam’s voice or the reflection of tears on his cheek as he locked eyes with you in the mirror.

By the grace of whatever higher power the Winchesters were on the good side of at the time, you connected with him in the reflection, were able to absorb some fraction of the bone-crushing, pick-you-up-off-your-feet hug you wanted so badly from Sam in that moment. You tried to be thankful for what you got and drifted back to Dean’s gaze.

“And Dean, baby,” you continued, some bizarre flutter of second wind giving you enough force to clench your hand tightly around his and remember to keep your breaths shallow, keep talking even if your eyes couldn’t quite focus. “This was not your fault, you gotta—promise—me you know it wasn’t.”

“I, ah—” he faltered, throat vibrating as he tried to keep the inevitable tears down.

You gripped his hand tighter, felt your fingers going numb, and tried to smile hoping it didn’t look too grotesque on a face almost certainly drained of lifelike color. “C’mon, gotta obey a last wish, right?” The grief-stricken chuckle of surprise that dark joke punched out of Dean opened the floodgates, and tears burst forward to stream down his face. He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

You’d thought of some goofy punchline to try to give, some ‘no sleeping with random girls for at least a year, want you guys to pour one out for me every day’ bullshit but seeing the love and pain in Dean’s eyes as your vision came in and out zapped it away. “I love you baby. I just—thank you for—everything—and—”

It was getting too hard to take even those shallow breaths, your hearing gone fuzzy around the edges, and the last thing you remembered was seeing a streetlight on the edge of town as Dean took your face in his hands, “I know, kid, I know, come on—please,” fading out like he was being zipped away through a long tunnel.

You were completely motionless in Dean’s arms, pulse gone thready enough that Dean was having a hard time finding it through the rumble of the car.

“Fuck, Sam, FUCK!” Dean screamed, one hand wrapped up in the hair at the back of your neck as he fought desperately to keep you upright.

Sam muscled through the lump in his throat and tried to stay focused. “When we get there you need to be ready to go, okay, Dean? HEY, listen to me. Don’t quit on me like this,” he barked, trying to catch his brother’s eyes in the rearview mirror without taking his focus off the road, terrified at the speed of the Impala and the potential of repeating what had happened the last time he’d had someone he loved bleeding out in the backseat.

The car skittered around two corners and Sam prayed as hard as he had ever prayed for anything that there weren’t any Keystone cops looking to meet their month’s ticket quota by hanging around dark parking lots with radar guns, willed Dean to stop punching the window of the car with the hand that wasn’t clutching your head to his chest. He couldn’t decide if he thought it would’ve been better to have Dean drive, if he would’ve been able to hold it together any better than Dean was right now, if Dean could’ve focused if he was driving and not feeling you drift in his arms. There wasn’t time to figure it out and it ultimately didn’t matter, his brother turning into a bomb in the backseat and Sam needed to figure out a way to funnel Dean’s sheer panic back into the denial that would fuel him to keep moving, do anything to keep you alive, regardless of whether there was any hope left.

“It’s not over, you’ve gotta keep it together. She needs you. See, we’re right around—"

But he didn’t get to finish through the flurry of action as he pulled into the motel. He careened the Impala straight up to the door of the room, more than half of the car parked over a strip of grass intended to make the nondescript building feel more homey. By the time he’d torn the keys from the ignition Dean was practically leaping out of the backseat, carrying you into the room a quarter step after Sam half-busted the door open, laying you on a bed and tearing your t-shirt off with his bare hands like a cheap wrestling gimmick.

Sam didn’t bother closing the motel door, moving too fast to care as he ripped a cork out of whiskey bottle with his teeth and poured it all over your now-exposed side, grimacing with nausea at the way it didn’t make you draw back in pain even a little. Dean tried his best to thread a needle with floss and remember whether it was better or worse that the blood was still flowing fast and bright red out of those stab wounds rather than slowing or oxidizing—this is bush league shit Dad pounded in years ago why can’t I remember fucking any of it? His hands shook with too much adrenaline to get the floss through the needle but Sam was already working on patching the biggest wound, tying knots with the rapid precision of a surgeon.

It was only when he started getting in Sam’s way that the younger Winchester said anything more, encouraged that Dean was at least trying to pull himself together. He began talking through the stitches, muttering when he had to pull one tight with his teeth.

“We—Dean, look at me.” Sam drilled into him with those brackish eyes, struggling to maintain the appearance of being in control that his brother needed of him when he could feel you going cold underneath his fingertips. “We’re going to need to give her a lot of fluids when she wakes up; all we have is beer. Go get some stuff for her to drink—electrolytes, she’ll need electrolytes.”

“I’m not going to fucking leave, asshole!” Dean was strung out and not even pretending to hide it anymore, voice taking on that juvenile squeak Sam had only heard a handful of times since Dean was a teenager.

He took a deep breath in an effort to soothe himself before speaking as clearly and firmly to Dean as possible, no room for negotiation. “Dean. This is not helping. The best thing you can do for her is to go get some fluids. Gatorade, OJ, bananas too, if they have them. She’ll need iron but we can deal with other food once she wakes up.”

“What if she doesn’t—” Dean half-moaned, sounding like he’d been struck by something that was sucking all the oxygen from his lungs, looking like he was on the last ten feet of a hundred-mile race.

“She’s going to wake up.”

And Sam’s stubbornness actually did help Dean a bit in that moment, knowing that even if his life was about to change radically, that never would. “Go get some fucking Gatorade.”

By the time Dean came back—arms filled with so many bags of sports drinks that it would be comical in any other context—his brother had stitched up every wound, cleaned off most of the blood, and put all your limbs atop high stacks of pillows in an attempt to get as much blood to your vital organs as possible. Dean was near catatonic with the singular focus of a task, which was Sam’s intention. One thing at a time.

After about five minutes of sitting alongside Sam watching you, thick, viscous panic bubbled back up to the surface.

At first, he was muttering like he was talking to himself. “She told me, she fucking told me they wouldn’t be in the barn anymore, I didn’t listen. I should’ve been right behind her, Sam, what the fuck was I thinking—she was—she—she was alone, they wouldn’t have—” and then the way his voice built to a fever pitch matched his body, Dean perched on the mattress like a sailboat in a tempest, slammed against invisible waves of panic.

“It wasn’t your fault, Dean. You couldn’t have known—”

“She was alone against five of them, Sam, do you get that? I left her fucking ALONE!” Dean wailed, springing forward from the bed with eruptive energy and bashing the nightstand lamp hard enough that its base shattered against the opposite wall, coming clean out of the socket as easily as if it hadn’t been plugged in. Sam flinched but didn’t get up, instead taking a quick visual inspection that no shards of ceramic somehow bounced back to cut your still body. By the time he glanced up again he only had a millisecond to react as Dean threw a chair from the kitchenette against the wall, exploding the mirror there into shimmering beads of glass and ricocheting back, forcing Sam block it with a forearm lest it hit him or you.

“DEAN, enough!” he yelled, crossing over to his brother with a few powerful strides and grappling with him, battling to keep Dean still as the older of the Winchester brothers fought to destroy the room to match the chaos in his mind. Sam knew exactly what was going on, the way Dean’s brain converted fear to rage, but hated when his brother got like this, not only because it cut so deep to see him in pain but because the explosiveness was so similar to the knock-down drag-outs they’d grown up with, made it impossible to try to fix the root of the problem.

Sam tackling Dean to the ground was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes.

“Do I pull this shit when you guys are sleeping?” you croaked from the mattress, trying to sit up and immediately abandoning that plan, stilling yourself and holding your breath until the pain settled a fraction.

Sam and Dean scrambled to get to their feet and ran over to you, hovering over the bed looking like their backs had a light dusting of glitter rather than a million tiny shards of glass.

“What’re—are you okay? What do you remember?” Sam blurted out, grabbing a bottle of Gatorade out of a plastic bag and cracking it open for you. He snatched a pillow and helped you sit up slowly, jamming it under your head so you could drink.

“Well, I’ve definitely felt better,” you tried to chuckle, but the tension it caused in your abdominal muscles made you wince. “I’m really sorry, you guys, I shouldn’t have—” you began, immediately stopped by the way Sam and Dean shook their heads, sucked on their teeth.

“I’m—ah,” Sam started, smiling self-deprecatingly through the shake in his voice and looking down at the ground for a beat with his tongue in his cheek. It was like his body knew that the worst of the crisis had passed and refused to let him hide his emotions for one second further. After a second he met your eyes again, faintest hint of tears in his eyes. “I’m really glad you’re up.”

Behind him, Dean collapsed into himself, his expression simultaneously complete relief and like he’d seen a ghost. You peered around Sam to meet his gaze. “Hey, dork,” you breathed, unable to come up with anything to match the weight of the moment.

He opened his mouth a few times and couldn’t find anything either, wincing and biting his lip hard as he rubbed the back of his head nervously. “I’m so sorry,” he finally choked out.

As always, Sam knew what Dean needed and snatched the car keys off the table as his brother tried in vain to keep his restless limbs still. He gazed at you with such naked thankfulness it made you smile involuntarily. “I’m going to see how much red meat I can find you, I’ll be right back, okay? Drink as many of these as you can and don’t stand up alone.” You nodded gratefully to him as he backed out the door.

When Sam left, Dean still shifted uncomfortably on his feet, clenching and unclenching his hands until he ultimately jammed them deep into the pockets of his coat with enough force that it shook loose almost all of the glass, sending it floating to the ground around him as if he was a mirage. You could see, even as he stood a few paces away from the bed, that his breathing was quickened from the rapid, shallow movements of his chest and neck. “I’m—ah, I didn’t think—I shouldn’t have—” he stammered against a jaw locked shut tensely enough to make the muscles bulge out of his cheeks, and the lack of the self-assuredness that was normally so Dean to you made him seem unbelievably young, made you want to leap across the room and wrap him up in your arms. As it was, you beckoned him over with a shaky hand.

He walked over to you hesitantly, only sitting down on the side opposite your injuries when you patted the sheets next to you. Awkwardly trying to move your torso as little as possible, you tossed the pillows on that side to the floor and motioned for him to lay down.

“I don’t want to hurt—”

“I’ll be fine. Please?”

Reluctantly taking off his coat and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground, he gingerly tucked himself under your arm and laid his head on your chest. You faintly dragged your fingertips down his back, waiting for his heartbeat and uneven, shallow breathing to slow down. When they didn’t and all you felt was a spreading wetness on the remaining upper half of t-shirt you still had, you twisted laboriously to see Dean’s face.

Tears streamed down onto you, Dean biting his lip so hard to keep quiet you were shocked you couldn’t see blood, the whites of his teeth almost matching the pressure-blanched skin.

“Oh, Dean,” you hummed, pulling him close to you with your one arm. “Babe, I’m here, I’m right here. Everything’s okay; I’m okay, you get to treat me like a princess for a few days and I’ll learn for the hundredth time that I shouldn’t go off by myself.”

“I—I thought you were gone,” Dean whispered between stunted sobs breaking the words off in short staccato, still fighting to speak as though he wasn’t crying even as his tears soaked you.

You craned your neck slowly to kiss the top of his head. “Not gone, right here. Always going to be right here.”

“You were bleeding so mu—just like Sam, it was just like when Sam—” he faltered, speaking slowly to try to grab the reins of his voice as it shook.

“Not just like Sam, baby, I’m still here. Everyone’s okay. And Sam’s okay too, right?” You waited for him to confirm what you knew was true and emphasize your point, drawing back to meet his gaze when he didn’t. “Right?”

Reluctantly, Dean nodded. The redness around his eyes made his irises seem almost unreal in electric green contrast and you couldn’t believe you were so close to never seeing them again. His lashes were even darker than normal, spiky black frames formed with salty tears like cartoonish mascara. You waited a beat then let him settle back into your chest before continuing, feeling the choke-hiccupping of his breath stop even if it stayed rapid. “Everyone’s okay. You’re okay,” you hummed into his hair. “You’re okay, baby.”

The two of you stayed like that until Dean’s breathing finally steadied, waiting past the clearly forced long held breaths and through to the point that he genuinely seemed like he’d hit the smooth rhythm you knew so well. “How are you feeling?” you murmured.

“Like a bitch,” he grumbled softly against your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile, thankful beyond anything for the glint of humor back in Dean, that shimmer of normalcy returning.

“Sorry for scaring you.”

“I’m never fucking letting you out of my sight again,” he said, words still sticky with swirling emotion and muffled by his cheek pressed against you. You knew he was only partly joking but also that now was not the time to push back, just kissing his hair in response.

There was no way it took Sam an hour to get you a diner burger but you were thankful for his intuition nonetheless, because by the time he got back Dean was calm enough to get up and had even helped you to put on a new t-shirt—one of his black ones; he said it was because it was looser but you suspected it was some kind of metaphor, covering you with part of himself—and shimmy into a pair of mesh athletic shorts. Standing up for a shower was still too ambitious, but the fresh clothes made you feel a little less gross. He was trying his best to clean up as much broken glass as possible when his brother opened the door and tossed him a paper bag with a bubbly illustrated hamburger on it.

Walking into the room without taking his jacket off, Sam set your food on the nightstand and grabbed a motel binder of local attractions (minimal) as a makeshift tray for you to eat off of before carefully helping you to sit up a little more. “Double cheeseburger—eat it before the fries, you need the iron. Oh, and I almost forgot—couple of these too.” He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved two bottles in one big hand that appeared to be acetaminophen and an iron supplement.

“You’re the best, Sam.” It was nice to hear your voice sound more normal, lubricated with two bottles of Gatorade already, and you tried not to imagine how awkward or painful it was going to be to try to get up and go to the bathroom later.

The Winchesters sat on the other bed, still in their boots because of the rug of broken glass no one wanted to acknowledge, and Sam turned on whatever dumb comedy he could find first. For a fleeting moment it felt like any normal night on the road, nursing an injury and eating greasy food in a room you’d never see again past tomorrow morning, and you almost forgot that (minutes? hours? you still didn’t know how long you’d been out) earlier you thought you were saying goodbye to the two people you loved most, who’d moved heaven and earth and miles of rural highway to bring you back, whose superhero resilience you’d seen start to crack at the thought of losing you. A searing jolt of pain when you reached for another Gatorade reminded you all too much, and when you hissed both Sam and Dean leapt off the bed with faces contorted in concern.

“Just stretched too far, I’m okay.”

Watching them take twin deep breaths could’ve been funny and you hoped it would be in a few days—hoped in a few days laughing wouldn’t feel like being impaled. For now, you tried to drink in this little moment of peace and made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t take another one for granted ever again.

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linkedkeysau-official · 2 years

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Whumptober 2022- Linked Keys Edition

Day 9- Touch starved (alt prompt)

Legend sat on the edge of the docks in Harbortown— the Chain's mermaid ally Zoe remaining in the water, though leaning against the dock directly beside him— as the two were staring out over the sea. Legend had gone out for a walk due to being unable to sleep, and was surprised to see Zoe just chilling in the water at the edge of the town. The young mermaid had been tagging along as the boys sailed from island to island after their initial meeting, in which she saved Legend and Warriors from drowning in the ocean after their first boat was wrecked. She claimed to not be very helpful, but the fact was she knew these waters better than anyone, so they were all happy to have her stick around.

Though Legend was ashamed to admit this beautiful fish girl, with her bright red hair, fair skin, and warm brown eyes, had also stolen his heart. For she was nearly an exact copy (at least in appearance) of the literal girl of his dreams, Marin. The one he'd fallen in love with on Koholint Island a few years ago, only to discover that Koholint hadn't been real to begin with… and that he would spend the next few years of his life being haunted by her memory.

Now he was essentially seeing her in the flesh, albeit now with a fish tail and a different name, and he was falling for her all over again. He knew they weren't the same. He knew he shouldn't pretend they were the same. It was almost cruel to do so, to think he only liked her because she reminded him of someone he lost. But he couldn't pretend that every time he saw her face or heard her voice, he wasn't thinking of her dreamworld doppelganger.

The two of them sat in silence for a while, watching the waves roll in, basking in the bitter, yet comforting scent of the salty air and the cold, but beautiful way the moonlight illuminated the water. But eventually Zoe spoke up,

"Link...There's something you should know about me. I didn't want to tell you at first because I didn't want to scare you, but I can't keep this a secret any longer. Not from you, at least. You see, I'm an empath. I can... Feel what others around me are feeling." She explained, staring up at Legend. The pink-haired hero stared back at her for a moment, unsure of what to think.

"On the beach where we first met... When you called me Marin... I could sense so much heartache from you," Zoe continued, ''If you don't mind me asking… who was she? A friend? A past lover?"

"Something like that." Legend replied quietly. He tried to avoid eye contact with the mermaid. He couldn't risk letting her see him break down. But she just reminded him so much of her... Of Marin. Not just in looks but attitude and voice as well. It was like his dream girl had come to be real after all... But she didn't know him. Could he bear to let himself get attached to her, when there was a chance she could be taken away from him again?

He wasn't sure. The news of her ability had come as a surprise, though. Legend had been so guarded for so long, it was strange, and scary, to meet someone who could tell exactly what he was feeling at any given moment. Especially someone so stunningly beautiful and kind as Zoe. He knew it was a losing battle, he couldn't fight it forever— he was falling for her hard. He just wished he knew what she thought of him.

A touch of her hand on top of his brought him out of his thoughts. She looked up at him with a comforting, yet pained smile. She knew he was still hurting. Maybe she didn't know what exactly was going through his head, but the sad undertones to her smile gave it away. She could feel the pain that he felt. Legend almost wanted to pull away. He wasn't used to holding hands, or hugging, or kissing, or any of those kinds of displays of affection. And it has been so long since he last let someone show affection to him in the first place that he nearly forgot what it felt like. But with her hand on his— even just that small gesture— he could feel his walls breaking down. Warmth and light breaking through the cold, empty void that his heart had become since Koholint.

He couldn't let her see him break down like this… He couldn't let her see him cry. Crying made him look pathetic, and he couldn't afford to look pathetic in front of Zoe. Well, no, he could. She probably wouldn't judge. She already knows how sad and lonely he is, after all. It's just that Legend didn't want her to see him looking pathetic. He had one more question, one that might decide whether or not he could go on like this with her. But he wasn't entirely sure he was ready to know the answer…

"Hey Zoe...?" He asked.

"Yes?" She asked. He could have sworn he saw a slight blush appear on her face.

No, don't think about it! Don't get your hopes up!

"You're... Real, right? This... Isn't a dream?" He asked. Voicing the question that had been in his brain since the moment he realized she was far too good to be true.

She beckoned for him to lean closer to her, a smile on her face. Once he was within reach, she suddenly yanked him into the water. Legend cried out in alarm before getting a mouthful of seawater and having to concentrate on not swallowing it by accident. The water was cold and salty, as the ocean was expected to be at this time of night. As much as he liked Zoe, he didn't appreciate being pushed, or pulled, into things without warning, and was about to tell her that. But before he could say another word, she pulled him into a kiss. Her lips were salty like the ocean, but soft and smooth as well. The warm, light feeling inside of Legend was magnified a thousand times as he wrapped his arms around her, leaning into the kiss. His heart was beating faster than he'd felt it in a long time as he fully embraced her touch.

A few moments later she pulled away with a smile on her face,

"As real as that."

#linked keys #loz au #LK #not lu #whumptober2022 #emotional whump #LK Legend #LK Zoe

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elizabeethan · 3 years

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Rising Tide

An Overboard Addition

The decision to travel to the Outer Banks to follow the Bluefin Tuna fishing season through the winter was an easy one, only once Emma had suggested that they go together. Even after three years of marriage, he still couldn’t imagine being apart from her for more than a week, never mind an entire winter season. But when Emma found out about the extended season down south, thanks to the blasted television show out of Massachusetts, she insisted that they take part, together.

Of course, he didn’t exactly expect her parents and brother to join them.

A/N: I wrote this because I felt like I was being too mean to Mary Margaret and decided to spread the wealth.

For @the-darkdragonfly for keeping my enthusiasm for this series alive, and for being the best beta around.

Rated M

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~~~~

There are too many people on this bloody boat.

Killian’s fishing vessel has comfortably held himself, his wife, and his two crew members on countless occasions, but something has shifted with the addition of a fifth person.

Or, perhaps, it’s the fact that his crew members have been traded for Emma’s entire family. Plus, there’s their dog.

Of course, he didn’t exactly expect her parents and brother to join them.

Leo has just turned 21, and is, according to his sister, soul searching. Emma claims that he isn’t sure what he’s doing with his life, what with his decision not to attend college and his struggles to find a steady job. She thought that maybe helping Killian this season would also help Leo, perhaps exposing some passion for fishing he never knew he had. But of course, Leo has never fished before, so his father is tagging along to make matters easier and safer. And why not throw Mary Margaret into the mix too… the more the merrier.

At least that’s what Killian thought until they all got onto his bloody boat and shoved off.

It really isn’t meant for five people. Plus a dog the size of a miniature horse.

Emma enjoys sunning herself on the bow, even in the winter, and Killian enjoys watching her. What he doesn’t enjoy is the quick and judging looks he gets from her father and the snickering and giggling from her mother each time he’s caught. He doesn’t enjoy the groaning and eye rolling he gets from Leo each time he kisses his wife, seen because of the painful lack of privacy on this bloody boat.

The whole journey down was near torture. Emma and Killian have grown accustomed to a certain amount of privacy, as well as a certain amount of pleasure for each of them. Everyone says the honeymoon phase will fade, and yet it hasn’t for them. Everyone also says that he will soon struggle to keep up with the energy of his much younger wife, and yet he has not experienced such a thing.

Killian’s always been a private person, preferring to love his wife in seclusion. At least when it’s Will and Robin on the boat, he can tell them to shove off if they’re caught in some unsavory position. But when her father does, Killian nearly jumps overboard.

It takes them about a day to sail into Wanchese, the harbor almost as accommodating as the one back home. They’re friendly here, but he can’t help but get a sense of competition burning between himself and the southern fishermen. Killian’s never been much for competition, but David is.

He says something cheeky and mildly ominous to the others in the fleet, something about catching the most tonnage this season despite not being from down here, and Killian stiffens beneath Emma’s hand on his back. She leaves warmth between his shoulder blades where he always seems to be stiff.

“It’s alright,” she says as she kisses his shoulder over his sweater, pressing up onto her toes. “It’ll be fun.”

“The season down here is short,” he explains, though she already knows. “But I have a feeling it’ll feel quite long.”

She hums and laughs, kissing him once more and wrapping her arms around his waist from behind him as he pulls away from the docks. When he hears her mother’s voice cooing at Ripple, “look at your mommy and daddy over there,” he stiffens again.

It’ll be a long season.

~~~~

He’s only glad for the hotel room that her parents have rented.

Leo’s still on the boat, of course, acting as Killian’s first mate, but he can handle that for the evenings. Leo does well preparing the lines and fishing for bait, and he tries to see the upside as Emma serves him spaghetti for the fourth night in a row and he realizes that they once again won’t have any privacy.

“Thank you, love,” he says softly to her as she hands him the floppy paper plate. “Smells delicious.”

She snorts, shaking her head as she takes a seat beside him on the bow. It’s become a favorite spot for them; a place where they can unwind together, make love to each other, console each other’s demons. “Don’t lie,” she says, bumping their shoulders together. “I’m a shitty cook anyway, never mind on the water.”

“You’re a brilliant cook.”

“Yes,” she laughs, nodding and twirling her fork in the flaccid pasta. “My recipe for peanut butter and jelly is award winning.”

“Aye, well, I do like when you sprinkle the potato chips in them.”

“That’s because we’re both eight-years-old.”

He leans towards her, securing his plate in his lap so that he can press a lingering kiss against her temple. “I should hope not,” he jokes.

They sit quietly for a while, enjoying the dinner she made for them despite her complaints that it’s mushy and watching the sunset. It’s beautiful here, he has to admit, and he can’t help but appreciate the way the pink sky bounces off of the sea and into his wife’s hair.

“It’ll be fine, you know,” she says softly, her lips pressing to his neck. “It’s only a few weeks, and I don’t even think they’ll come out most weeks.”

“Aye, love,” he murmurs into the top of her head. “You know I’m not upset about this, right?”

“Yeah, but I can tell you’re not completely comfortable either. I mean, my parents--”

“Emma,” he interrupts, although he doesn’t like to. He takes her face in his hands and gives her a smile. “I love your parents because I love you. I can handle a few weeks with them.”

“You promise you won’t gaff them if they mess up your boat?”

He laughs, if only to remove the image of such a violent proposition from his mind, and nods. “I promise, my love.”

~~~~

Things start turning south after a few weeks on the water, her parents, just as Emma had predicted, only making a few appearances. David was helpful enough teaching Leo the ropes, and he’s become an invaluable member of Killian’s crew. Now that he’s trained quite thoroughly, David and Mary Margaret have taken the opportunity to explore the Outer Banks.

Only today, they’re out on the boat, along for the ride since Killian suggested a shorter trip just past the sound. It was hard enough crossing the bar with Emma’s father’s watchful eye on him, and now that they've made it to deep enough waters, his anxiety is at an all time high.

Killian is a talented sailor. He knows this, and he also knows that he’s a talented fisherman. He’s earned himself a rather suitable fortune in his years catching tuna, and he maintains that he knows what he’s doing. And yet, having an audience-- especially one that seems to still be waiting for the other shoe to drop-- is making him entirely doubt himself. They’re waiting for their daughter to get hurt, either by him or because of him. He’s waiting for the doubt he has in himself to fade, and yet it never seems to unless Emma forces it away.

He would never hurt her. He would die if anything ever happened to her, especially if it was at his hands. If he were ever involved in any pain delivered to her, he isn’t sure how he would survive the guilt and anguish that would result.

Which is why he’s been so careful the entire trip, and each time she’s on his boat with him. He failed at his attempts to make her wear a lifejacket-- So what, you think I can’t swim? I’m a better swimmer than you, probably-- but he tries to take every other precaution. He’s even trained Ripple to bark when she sees a large wave incoming so that they can take cover. He keeps knives stashed around the boat so that he can cut any rogue line or rope, should anyone get tangled. He keeps lifepreservers as well, one on each corner despite the boat being small enough to reach one easily. Every sharp object has a home, a designated place to avoid accidents. He captains a very safe vessel any day, but when Emma and their Ripple are on board, it’s like his senses are heightened.

Which is why he watches her like a hawk each day, but especially now that her parents are on board. He just knows that one misstep will have them staring him down, judging his ability to care for their daughter, silently gaining confirmation that their marriage won’t make it. He knows it’s dramatic, and not entirely true, but he can’t help but fear that they think of him as too old for her. He’s not energetic enough; he can’t keep up with her needs. He can’t provide her with the life that she deserves.

They’ve talked about this, of course. But the reminders keep coming with her parents’ looks towards him, so his self-doubt flourishes.

They’ve only just hooked up when it happens. Leo is reeling-- he’s doing phenomenally as he works with the waves in an effort to drag the beast to them-- and Killian is driving. David stands at the helm with Leo, telling Killian when to go into reverse and when to go into neutral, when to turn left and when to turn right. They’ve almost brought the thing to the port of the vessel, and Emma stands diligently with a gaff ready to assist however she can. Killian can’t stop staring. Not only because she looks beautiful and strong, but because he worries for her too much.

He notices the rope on the ground quickly after it falls, calling to David to move it despite his distraction with the strained line. He kicks it away, a loop forming easily as he does so. He shouts once more, desperately as he watches Emma take a step to her left, and panics when he isn’t heard.

“Emma!” he calls from the wheel, turning towards her but unable to abandon steering the craft for fear of disaster. “Love, your--”

She starts to trip as David throws the harpoon, the line tightening around her ankle and pulling at her leg until she has to drop to the deck. Killian abandons his post easily, rushing towards her and shoving against David with too much force so that he can grab for a blade and cut her free.

She falls forward into his arms, her gasp coming out forcefully as she seems to piece together what’s almost happened as the adrenaline wears off.

“Woah,” she breathes, squeezing his hand in hers as he helps her to straighten.

“Are you--”

“The line!” David calls. “It’s-- Emma?” He hurries towards them both, finally abandoning the tool as Leo cuts the beast free and does the same and crouches by her side. “What happened?”

A sudden wave of disgust washes over him as an equally powerful wave from the sea crashes into his beloved boat. With the force of it, with his wife safe in his arms, he realizes he couldn’t possibly care less what happens to his fishing vessel as long as she’s alright.

“She nearly went overboard,” he spits. “Did you not hear me? Or were you too busy with the bloody harpoon?”

“Obviously I didn’t hear you,” he argues. “But I don’t need you blaming me when your equipment doesn’t work. This harpoon line is way too long.”

He breathes out an exasperated laugh, shaking his head and staring up at David. “Oh, so this is my fault? You aren’t watching your lines and nearly get your daughter killed and somehow it’s my fault?”

“Babe,” she starts, putting her hand on his, but he’s too angry and worked up and terrified.

“No, I'm sick of this,” he says. He hears Ripple finally bursting out of the cabin after far too many attempts to break free, and she hurries towards Emma, towards her mother, to lick her cheek. Emma giggles and cuddles with the pup, seeming to allow her breath to finally even. “Every chance you get, it’s a dig at my ability to keep my wife safe. And when I-- when your Captain orders you to move a bloody line away from her damn foot--”

“Killian!”

He can’t even respond, can’t do anything but take a heaving breath in hopes that it will calm him. He knows what she’s thinking-- that she wishes he would stop yelling at her bloody father-- but he can’t shake the feelings of rage coursing through him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally mumbles, finally able to turn his head and look her in the eye. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

She takes his hand and squeezes once more, nearly forcing him to maintain eye contact, and says, “I’m fine, babe. I’m okay.” he tries to ignore the discomfort written across her father’s entire being. “Let’s just go below deck and you can check my ankle, okay?”

“Is it hurting you?”

She blinks once and says, “It’s a little sore. Come on.”

They aren’t even able to shut themselves in before she tugs on his arm, dragging him close to her and wrapping him in a squeeze that he swears could kill him if it wasn’t exactly what he needs. It’s not as if she was dragged over the bow-- it’s not as if the rope truly cinched around her ankle and dragged her overboard, beneath the surface of the deadly crashing waves-- but she came pretty damn close. And now, as he comes down from the high of adrenaline of nearly losing his wife, his best friend, the most important thing in his life, he cracks.

He can barely breathe as his palms reach to cup her cheeks, if only to ensure that they’re still warm and pink and alive. He chokes when he has her in his grasp, his brows pinching together almost painfully and his teeth digging into the soft flesh of his bottom lip, likely drawing blood. “Love,” he stutters, his voice weak and small, and he nearly loses his balance as another wave crashes into them. She keeps him steady. “I almost--”

“No,” she insists. “I know, baby, but you didn’t. I’m right here, Killian. I’m not going anywhere.”

When his eyes meet hers, he says desperately, “I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t,” she tells him with such certainty that he has no choice but to believe her. “Killian, I'm right here. I’m here with you, and I’m okay. You’re not gonna lose me.”

He shakes his head, and when he does, she creeps closer to him on the small captain's bed until her hips can straddle his thighs. His hands find her waist, unable to do anything but hold her and try to convince himself that she’s here and she’s fine. He didn’t lose her, although he almost did. The sea has given so much to him, but it’s also taken. It took his brother, or so he must only assume, and it almost took the love of his life. He knows now, now that it’s been proven to him, that he would gladly give himself to the sea if she took his wife. “Emma, my love…”

She hardly gives him a chance to answer, although part of him thinks she knows that he had nothing to say. Her lips cut him off, pressing to his and destroying any thoughts of negativity or anger or fear. They fuse themselves to his mouth and take from him every ounce of distress he could possibly imagine feeling. They give him every ounce of strength he could possibly possess. Her tongue slinks out over his own and sends small tingles down his back to the base of his spine until his grip on her tightens. Until his grip is tight enough to convince himself that she isn’t going anywhere.

“I love you,” she presses against his skin, her mouth somehow never leaving his.

“Emma,” he breathes again. With a gasp, he says once more, “Emma.”

“I'm okay,” she says. Then, with her hips pressing to his, she says, “Let me show you.”

In a move that he can barely perceive, one consumed with disorientation and a need to still feel her in his arms, she’s off of his lap and shedding her clothes. Her shorts were wet and difficult to peel from her legs, her-- his-- sweater, too, but her tight tank top, the one doubling as a bra, comes off of her easily. He reaches for her breasts, his lips finding her tightened nipple, and the moan that leaves her has him shaking.

She takes his clothes off, too, leaving hot trails of fire with her mouth each time she removes something from his skin. Her tongue follows a line between two freckles on his upper thigh and he throws his head back against the thin pillow that they share most nights. When her lips purse against the angry red tip of his cock, he grabs for her, fingers lacing through her hair and holding onto her if only so that he never has to fear letting her go. If he never lets go of her, he’ll never lose her.

She hollows her cheeks expertly, quickly working him to nearly his breaking point until he has to force himself to stop her. He wants her more than almost anything, second only to the feeling of finishing with the feeling of her walls reaching the same precipice around him. He thinks-- he hopes-- that the look he gives her conveys this, and when she releases him and licks her lips, smirking at him, he knows he’s succeeded.

Her fingers find her clit, although he’s quick to replace them with his own as she settles herself just above him. When she throws her head back with a gasp, her breasts swell and her long hair nearly tickles his kneecaps. When his fingers slide down from her clit to her entrance, smoothly spreading her arousal until he can tuck them inside, she lets out a moan that’s far too loud for their close quarters, so he sits up and fuses his mouth to hers. Her fingers grip the back of his head, holding him to her and tugging at his hair in a way that he knows means she’s mad with want.

His tongue traces her bottom lip in filthy need before he bites down on it, making her moan. “I want you,” she breathes as his mouth finds her earlobe. “Killian, please.”

“I need you,” he murmurs without meaning to, suckling on her ear in hopes to silence anymore foolish confessions.

“Take me. Take what you need, please.”

Her core is just above him, his cock throbbing with a need to be within the heat of her walls, to be squeezed by her until he can spill all of the love he has for her inside. When she drops onto him, her clit running along the length of him and warming him from the inside out, he grips her hips once again and helps to guide her. When she whimpers desperately, a moan escaping the back of her throat making him twitch, his mouth finds hers once again. With another move along his length, her fingers reach between them and guide him into her, making her hiss and whine and bite and hug him tighter.

“I love you so fucking much,” she says as she grinds down against him.

He can do nothing but consume her, taking her mouth against his again and moving into her until she lets out a breathless sound of need and desire. It drives him mad, his whole body shivering as he thrusts up once again, and when she props herself on her knees and moves herself up and down along his length, he has to squeeze his eyes shut.

The fact is, he nearly lost her. She’s fine, she wasn’t injured, nothing happened, but it could have been so much worse than it was. He praises himself for being quick enough to cut her free, but fears what could have happened if he hadn’t. But when she takes his face into her palms again and presses their foreheads together, when she whispers that she’s here and that she loves him, he knows that he can believe her. He knows that he can allow himself to move on from the absolute terror that comes with nearly losing the one thing he can’t live without.

“Emma, fuck.”

“Fuck me,” she says. Her grip on his hair tightens again and she commands, “Harder.”

So he flips them over, Emma landing on her back and gasping when he slams back into her, her ankles hooking around his back and pulling him deeper into her. She moans in his ear when he tucks his face into the crook between her neck and her shoulder and sucks what he knows will become a far-too-obvious mark there. She’ll likely have to keep wearing his sweaters to cover it, not that he minds.

She squeezes, and she pushes against him, and she cries out against the lobe of his ear, and before he knows it, his hands are finding the back of her shoulders and pulling her up towards him so that he can hold her as close to himself as he can possibly manage. When she’s seated upon his thighs, his hips thrusting so that his cock can slide into her and hit every perfect part of her, she bites her bottom lip and screws her brows so tightly that he wonders if she’ll have a headache.

He can’t speak, can’t put into words the love he has for her, so he kisses her again and she kisses back. And though it’s quick and dirty, it’s just what the two of them need. She’s alright-- she’s just fine-- but they need each other now. He needs her to show him that she’s alright. She needs him to show her that he believes her. So when they come together, Emma squeezing him forcefully and desperately, he spills himself into her with just as much neediness so that they’re falling together, holding each other, losing themselves in one another.

Eventually, he falls forwards, Emma barely catching him before rolling the both of them over so that they're on their sides and facing one another. Once they’re comfortable, both of them panting heavily, she lifts her hand and rests it on his cheek, a soft smile gracing her lips and brightening her eyes, and he knows now that she’s alright. She’s fine, just like she said.

“You’re okay?” he asks in clarification.

“I’m perfect, as long as you’re here.”

“I’m always here.”

“Then I’m always okay.”

He didn’t expect to be here with her, now, with her family above deck, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world. When his palm lands softly on her cheek, the warmth of it heating his entire being, he smiles. “I love you.”

“I love you too, idiot. You’re my husband; it’s kind of a given.”

With a laugh, he answers, “You’re very rude.”

“Only because I love you very, very much.”

“I’m not sure how those two things are equivalent, but…”

She shushes him then, scooting closer to him so that she can press her lips to his. “Don’t overthink it, baby. You could hurt yourself.”

“You’re quite something.”

“Yes, I love it when they say that to me after a night of passionate lovemaking.”

“It’s only four thirty.”

She laughs softly, a warm breath pushing itself from her lungs and onto his face, his lips tingling in response to the heat of her presence beside him. He laughs, too, his hand brushing a rogue strand of hair away from her eyes. “Emma,” he whispers.

“Killian,” she whispers back, “I’m okay.”

He nods, because with her in his arms now, he knows. “I know.”

She kisses him one more time, then asks, “Now, what was it you always say to me? You’re only allowed to fuck me through your feelings if we talk about them afterwards?”

He sighs, nuzzling his nose against her own before it finds her cheek. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry,” she tells him, her exasperation clear in her voice. “I’m not mad, Killian. I just want you to know that it’s alright to feel angry about stuff that scares you.”

“When did you get so deep?”

“The ocean is pretty deep, right? And I almost got yeeted right into it.”

He wants to laugh, truly. He wants to make a joke about her idiotic, immature reference. But he can’t, for his fear of her actually going overboard takes over. And he doesn’t exactly know what the bloody hell that phrase even means. So he squeezes her tighter and shakes his head. “Hush,” he says, because he can say nothing else.

She whispers, “Killian,” and when he looks up at her, her eyes are deep and serious. “It’s no one’s fault. And nothing happened.”

He shakes his head. “Something very bad could have happened, love. If I ever lost you…”

“I know, I know,” she says, cutting him off with one more kiss. “And I know you’re mad at my dad, too, but it’s no one’s fault. That rope was there, and you cut it away.”

Truthfully, he’s almost surprised by her mention of her father. It’s true that he became too angry, too blameful of the man who could have prevented a disaster from taking place had he only listened. But Emma is okay, she’s fine, and David is probably just as worried as Killian was.

“I know,” he concedes.

“And I know you’re a little upset about him… I guess he’s been kind of doubting you, huh?”

He shrugs. She’s right, of course, but far be it for him to admit that he’s feeling this way. Why he can’t, he doesn’t know.

“It must get pretty tiring to have him always questioning you, especially since you're the captain. Your word goes, and all that.”

There’s no response, not without admitting that this is exactly the way he’s feeling, so he kisses her nose. She makes it easy, of course, and she’s completely right. He gave a command that wasn’t followed, and it could have cost him his life in the loss of her. “It’s just…” he starts, unsure if he’ll be able to finish.

“They’ve been doubting you all this time?”

With a sigh, he nods. How she manages to read his every thought, his every emotion, is lost on him. “We’ve been married quite a while.”

“Three years,” she confirms happily. “And we’re pretty content, aren't we?”

“Aye,” he laughs, pulling her close to him so that he can tuck her beneath his chin and press a kiss to the top of his head.

“They have this need, Killian,” she starts to explain. “They gave me up, and now they have me back. They have this need to protect me and take care of me so they don’t risk losing me again.”

“I know, I just--”

“And I’m sure it’s impossible to rectify how they could somehow not see you as the one thing that’s protected me more than anything. But they need to be the ones, I think.”

He shakes his head, unable to move past the point she’s trying to make as he asks, “So what, I can’t be the one to protect my wife?”

With a soft sigh, she suggests, “Maybe their doubts are rubbing off on you? Making you doubt yourself?”

“It’s not exactly difficult,” he says in spite before again trying to force away his irritation. Shaking his head, he says more softly, “I know that we’re perfect for one another, and that I can and will keep you safe above all else, but the constant distrust makes it difficult to believe that.”

Her fingers find the gray along his temple, scratching through it lightly in such loving gentleness. He’ll never tire of how much she loves his grays, his old age somehow feeling more manageable as her appreciation for it grows each day. She stays quiet, and he knows it’s because she knows he’s right. He’s said what he wants to say, and she agrees with him.

“You know,” she says, “you’ve known me as long as they have.”

“Aye, I know.”

“And you love me more.”

He clears his throat. “That can’t be true, love.”

“And yet, it is,” she laughs. “It’s okay, I like it. I’ve spent more time with you than I have them. I have more of a connection with you than I do with them, in a few ways,” she says with a chuckle, smirking and kissing him softly.

“Emma--”

“I spent my whole life craving a certain type of love from a certain type of person. I always thought it would be from the people who gave me up, but it turns out I was wrong. The person I was looking for was the person who would love me over everything. The one who would put me above everything. My parents did the right thing when they gave me away, but they still gave me away. You’ve never given up on me, Killian. All my life, I’ve been searching for this person, and I found you.”

All he can do is hope that the look in his eyes as he stares at her conveys the depth of what he’s feeling for her. She tells him things like this quite frequently, her comfort with him evident as she continues to open up. When they met, she was an open book, although the stories were written in another language. Now, nearly four years later, he’s fluent.

Finally, after much silence passes between them-- too much, considering her family is still just above them-- he sighs and fiddles with her hair once more. He’s said his piece now, able to get off his chest the anger and fear that he felt, but with Emma’s heartfelt confession, he feels a need to clarify some things.

“Your life as a child who was, well--”

“An orphan,” she tells him firmly.

“An orphan. It seems rather impossible. I just can’t imagine how hard that must have been, and how much strength it must have taken just to grow up.”

With a soft, sad smile, she nods. “Why do you think I don’t want kids?” she asks with a shrug.

His fingers dance along the soft skin of her temple, drawing trails down the side of her face and to the back of her neck before he pulls them together and kisses her lips gently. “It’s… It’s alright for that to be the reason, love,” he starts, hopeful that he can actually get his point across successfully. “But I just want you to know… I mean… you have a reason, but you certainly don’t need one.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean not wanting a child is enough of a reason for you not to have one. I know you struggled growing up, and you fear you could subject a child to a similar fate, but you would also have the right to make this decision even if that wasn’t the case.”

She leans in close to him, their foreheads touching and her nose bumping his, and she whispers, “I know. And I know that if we had one, we would love it and everything but… we’re enough,” she shrugs.

“We are.”

“Are you sure?”

With a tender, lingering kiss to her lips, he whispers, “What we have is perfect. You and Ripple are all that I need. A baby would add to what we are together, but it’s not something that I need to feel fulfilled. It wouldn’t complete us because we’re already complete.”

She sighs softly and nods, kissing him again. “Okay, good. I agree.”

“I’m glad.” His hands cup her cheeks as gently as they can, all of the love he has for his wife washing through his palms and into her skin. “I love you more than anything,” he promises her.

“I love you more than everything.”

“Cheeky scoundrel, you are.”

“For you, babe.”

“When did you start calling me babe?”

She silences him with one more kiss, deep and passionate as their lips meld together and their tongues tangle briefly, before she pulls away from him with a salacious grin and stands up. “Come on,” she insists, holding out her hand. “My family is probably wondering what we’re up to down here.

He catches the small, genuine smile that graces her whole face, brightening her eyes as she says family.

~~~~

Dinner that evening is awkward. Despite having an unsuccessful day as far as fishing is concerned, they decided to call it a day and turn in early. The tension on the boat was too high, a conversation desperately necessary but not conducive to their environment. He needs to apologize to her father, he realizes, but he struggled to find the ability to do so while trying to captain his vessel.

When they got into the harbor and docked, they decided to go for dinner out rather than finding something to cook either on the boat or in her parents’ hotel room. The small local restaurant they came across just beside the harbor is quiet enough, the atmosphere relaxed and quaint, but it still feels too awkward to bring up his outburst of anger, no matter how justified it was.

Finally, after they'd each finished a glass of wine and gotten refills, he clears his throat. “Dave,” he says with little conviction. He scratches behind his ear, noting the way Emma’s left brow raises expectantly, and takes a swig from his glass. “I, uh, I’d like to discuss earlier.”

Her father clears his throat just the same as he had, pressing his lips together and earning a startlingly familiar look from his own wife. “So would I.”

Without making eye contact, he nods, trying to find the right words. “It’s come to my attention that I may have gotten a bit angry.”

David raises a brow, purses his lips as he stares down at the fish that KIllian can’t believe he has the ability to eat, and nods. “Me too.”

The silence that consumes their table is deafening, the restaurant suddenly seeming far too noisy against the stiffness between himself and David. Perhaps this will be enough, he thinks. Although, he’s proven wrong easily. Dropping her fork dramatically and rolling her eyes, Emma exclaims, “Are you both serious?”

“My thoughts exactly,” her mother agrees. “Do men not talk about their feelings, ever?”

“No,” Leo laughs.

Her mouth is agape as she stares between them, each of them looking to her as if hoping for guidance in how she wants them to move forward. “You’re both being idiots,” she accuses, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest as she shakes her head. “Just tell each other that you’re sorry, Jesus Christ. What are you, toddlers?”

“Sorry?!” her father exclaims in outrage. “What do I have to be sorry for? Your husband screamed at me!”

“Because you didn’t listen to an order and almost got her killed!”

“I think you’re forgetting that I know what I'm doing when I’m out there, Jones. You don’t need to have a power trip with me.”

“I think you’re forgetting, I’m the bloody captain.” He’s seething, leaning forward into the table and resting his elbows on the hard surface.

“Shut up!” Her voice is too loud for the quiet space, but truthfully, her words are necessary. “Dad, I know you were scared, and maybe you took that fear out on Killian. But he was scared, too, and he did the same thing. And Killian, I know you gave an order, but he didn’t hear you. So if both of you could chill out and stop blaming each other for something that didn’t even happen, that would be great.”

Killian stays quiet, his jaw tense and his teeth grinding together with too much force. She’s right, of course, they’re being childish. She had already tried to tell him that there’s no one to blame, and here he is blaming her father. It’s unnecessary, an excuse for him to ignore his fears a bit more. So he clears his throat again. “I’m sorry,” he finally says. “I was afraid I was going to lose her and I took it out on you.”

David takes in a deep breath and leans away from the table, the tension loosening slightly, and says, “I’m sorry, too. I did the same thing.”

In a moment of boldness, he says, “Although, it does feel like you’ve been doubting my ability to provide for her since we met, and it honestly feels like you aren’t in support of our marriage.”

He sees Emma squeeze her eyes shut, her hand cupping her forehead, but she makes no attempt to stop the exchange from taking place. Mary Margaret stiffens, so does Leo, and David takes a moment before even considering an answer.

“Killian,” her mother starts, placing her hand over his in an attempt at being comforting. It works, a bit. “Emma, are you feeling that way, too?

Though she’s clearly on the spot, Emma looks up from the table’s surface and shrugs. “I mean, yeah. I know you guys love us and support us, but he’s right. Sometimes it feels like you doubt we’ll make it.”

David sighs and shakes his head. “That’s never been our intention.”

“We both believe in each other, in our marriage, but to always have you in our ears about how Killian’s older, and his job is dangerous, and how I need stability… It feels like you don’t trust us to take care of ourselves or each other. And now Killian’s doubting himself and blaming himself for something that he shouldn’t be.”

She’s honest, almost too honest, and the tension is back.

David’s eyes seek the ceiling, his jaw tight before he says again, “It’s not our intention. I’m sorry that we’re making you both feel that way.”

Wiping at her eyes, Mary Margaret says, “Emma, honey, we just… we worry about you. We want to make sure that you’re getting everything you need and that you’re well taken care of, and we put pressure on Killian. I’m sorry.”

“I know that,” she answers in exhaustion, shaking her head. “I know you guys are putting pressure on yourselves, too, to make sure that I have a good life now that I'm here with you. But I do have a good life. I need you to trust that Killian and I have the best life I could possibly imagine.”

“We know,” Mary Margaret says softly, her head casting down.

“We don’t need different jobs, or a bigger house, or… or kids. We’re perfect just like this.”

There’s quiet across the table now, each of them seeming to settle and relax a bit with the truth out between them. It’s not like this isn’t something he and Emma have discussed-- they’ve talked at length several times about how her parents have a need to care for her. But having the words spoken aloud, having Emma ask them to tone it down, feels freeing.

“We’re sorry,” David finally says after a few moments of peace. “I’m sorry. I know I’m hard on you, Killian. I worry about my little girl too much, and it’s not fair for me to put that on you.”

It’s a big step. Truthfully, it almost takes Killian by surprise, considering the two of them couldn’t even look at each other a few moments ago. But now, David has acknowledged why he’s so upset, and he’s apologized for it. Her mother, too. Honestly, just them recognizing that this is the way they’ve been feeling is enough, even if they continue to doubt him.

“I don’t intend to let her down,” he finally says, earning a soft smile from her. “I-- Emma’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’ll do anything I can to keep her safe. Always.”

She squeezes his hand and she bites her bottom lip, releasing it so that she can smile once more. “I love you,” she says softly for only him to hear. To her mother, she says, “I love him, okay? I’m fine; we’re fine. I promise.”

~~~~

The trip home has been a long one, her father constantly making jokes about how he’s driving that make him absolutely mad, although he knows them to be in jest. He taught Leo how to captain, showing him the ropes now that he’s used to the controls, so with only a few hours before they make port in Storybrooke, he’s able to meet his stunning, sundrenched wife on the deck of his beloved vessel. She tries to sunbathe, although it’s becoming colder and colder the further north they travel, so she’s wrapped in her blanket rather than lying atop it.

“Hey babe,” she smiles, tipping her sunglasses off of the bridge of her nose.

“Hi babe.”

The face she makes is priceless, her nose scrunching in disgust as she shakes her head. “No, don’t call me that. It’s all wrong.”

“And what shall I call you, if you can call me babe and I can’t?” he asks as he sits beside her and presses a kiss to her temple.

“You can call me… Darling, or my love, or the best thing that’s ever happened to me…”

“Those are my options?”

“Take ‘em or leave ‘em.”

His arms wrap around her easily, pulling her against him until she wriggles herself on top of him. They lie down, Killian on his back and his love resting across his chest, and he sighs happily. “Well, my love,” he starts, his fingers scratching against her scalp until she sighs and melts into him. “It seems to have been a successful season after all.”

“Just like I told you.”

“Aye.”

“You should listen to your wife, Jones.”

“I suppose you’re right, Swan.”

“It’s Jones, Jones,” she says softly, kissing his neck just above the hem of his sweater.

“My mistake, darling,” he almost whispers.

They’re quiet, so relaxed as they lie together, the swell of the ocean rocking them into a sense of serenity. Her breath is warm as it washes over his skin, sending a shiver down his spine as they travel north, back into the northeast winter. He pulls the blanket they share higher so that it covers her shoulders, and she hugs herself closer to him.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly after a while, her voice barely audible over the waves.

“Aye, are you? Are you cold?”

“No,” she shakes her head against his chest, “You're nice and toasty. But that’s not what I meant. I meant are you... okay?”

With a soft and understanding sigh, he nods. “Overall a successful season, my love, just like you’d predicted.”

“And you didn’t even gaff anyone,” she says with a grin he can hear through her voice.

“Well, no one messed up my boat.”

She laughs softly and squeezes her arms around him once more. “And you beat out those southern assholes.”

He chuckles and lets his fingers trail up her spine over his sweatshirt. He caught more than anyone else, earning more money and respect, along with a target on his back for next year. If he comes back, he’ll have to be careful to ensure that he succeeds once again.

“I’m glad we… I mean, we got a lot out in the open. Things feel simpler now.”

She nods and kisses the small patch of hair that peeks out from beneath his sweater. “I know, I feel it too. It’s like things have finally settled down, ya know?”

“Aye. Like we don’t have anything to worry about now.”

“Yeah.”

More time passes and the gentle hum of the motor lulls them as they skip over wave after wave.

“I love you,” he says softly, cutting through the comfortable silence lying between them. If he could whisper and she’d hear him, he would.

“I love you, too, babe. More than anything.”

He moves his hand from her back to the side of her face, the side that’s exposed to the chilled air rather than tucked against his chest. He lets his fingers trace gentle patterns along her temple until she presses up to look at him, her eyes fluttering shut as he cups her cheek. “God, how I love you, best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers.

She giggles and leans in, fusing her lips to his, their kiss pure and longing as she deepens it. She lets her hands cradle his head and hold him to her, her tongue sliding out of her own mouth and along the line of his bottom lip before she nips at it. With his hands beneath the blanket that conceals them from the wind and the sea spray, he squeezes her ass and pulls her hips down onto his, drawing a needy moan from the back of her throat.

She breaks away from him for just a second, taking in a deep breath without opening her eyes before she leans in again and meets him once more. With a whimper as he bucks his hips up into hers, he lets his hand begin to wander beneath the thick fabric covering her curves.

Her family is here, far too close for comfort, but even so, he thinks he would risk terminal embarrassment in favor of being with her if not for the rude interruption. They hear their angel, their Ripple, barking loudly from the rear deck, Leo unable to console her as she argues with the dolphins that greet her from beneath the water. Eventually, he calls for his sister for support, hopeful that Emma’s presence will calm the beast so that she doesn’t leap overboard.

Emma groans, breaking away from him and dropping her forehead against his in frustration. “Dammit,” she whispers. “I totally would have fucked you, too.”

He snorts, shaking his head and kissing her once more, and says, “I’m sure that’s true. I suppose we’ll just have to wait until we get home.”

She smiles softly as she presses another kiss to his mouth and says, “Know what’s funny?” When he hums in question, she continues, “We’ve been married for three years, but it still feels like we’re in our newlywed phase.”

He smirks, slapping her ass one more time as she moves to get off of him, and says, “I think we should stay in it.”

“Agreed.”

Apparently, their agreement is binding. He never does lose the absolutely need-driven desire to make love to his wife any chance he gets, no matter what they should be doing instead. No matter the things that could come between them, he loves her, and he’ll never tire of showing her any chance he gets. It’s enough, they’ve both realized. They're perfect.

The End

Tagging:

@courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89 @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious @ouatpost @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook @therooksshiningknight @eeteeaytay @xsajx @itsfridaysomewhere @alexa-fangirl-forever @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @qualitycoffeethings @rapunzelsghosts @spaceconveyor @badcats-andmice @batana54 @sailtoafarawayland @deckerstarblanche @zaharadessert @xarandomdreamx @pirateprincessofpizza @captainswan21 @hookedmom @lostintheskyfaraway @undercaffinatednightmare @strangestarlighttree

#captain swan #captain swan fanfic #overboard #rising tide #overboard ff #cs ff #once upon a time fanfic #ouat ff #cs modern au #cs smut #cs angst

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missmungoe · 3 years

Note

Can we get more pirate Makino

Of course! I’m actually writing a thing about exactly that, so here’s a glimpse from the first chapter of a three-part fic I’ve been working on, titled On the Water (alternatively: How to Become a Pirate in Your Thirties).

Follows Long Live, rated M for, well, Shanks. The full story will be up on AO3 when it’s finished, but I hope you enjoy this sneak peek!

For her birthday he gave her the horizon, but adapting to life at sea was a work in progress.

The ropes scuffed her palms, gentle hands that had always known hard work, just not this particular kind. She’d have blisters tomorrow, Makino suspected, although hoped that was all she’d have, and not a broken back and fractured skull to boot.

“Need a hand?”

His voice reached down towards her, as a big hand was offered, the broad palm roughened with harder calluses than hers. The metal of his wedding ring caught the sunlight; unlike his fingers, it didn’t bear the evidence of his way of life, but then he hadn’t been wearing it on his hand for very long.

Her own ring was dulled and scratched from wear; the curious symmetry of their lives, at least before her recent about-face in terms of careers, her apron and serving tray exchanged with canvas, rope, and questionable safety measures.

She looked at the hand held out to her, following the sinewy forearm to Shanks, perched on the ratlines above her with an effortlessness she couldn’t decide if made her want to gawk or shriek in frustration. The fact that he could even offer his hand was hard to believe, given that he only had one, but he looked utterly unhindered by the fact, his bare feet steady where he balanced on the ropes, in a way that made it seem like having two hands would have just been overkill.

For her own part, Makino was trying her best not to cling with every appendage she had.

“Are you being cheeky?” she called up, just a little shrilly, gripping the ropes when an impish gust of wind sent the ratlines swaying.

“You tell me,” came the quick reply, her disbelief parried with the flash of a roguish grin. “You’re the one with the view.”

Poised on the ropes directly beneath him, Makino demurely refused to acknowledge the cheeks in question, hugged rather snugly by the fabric of his pants where he leaned his weight against the ropes. Today’s pattern was cheerful palm tree leaves against a bright red backdrop. The fact that it might be the last thing she saw before falling to her death was a sobering thought.

“Eyes aloft, sailor,” Shanks said, a note of command that sent a shiver jumping up her spine, and that had her gaze darting from his rear to his face, and the delighted grin stretched across it. “I know I’m distracting, but try to be professional?”

Had she been a better liar, she might have attempted a glib retort. As it was, the sight of him on the ropes was distracting, a captain in his natural element, his feet bare and his signature cloak discarded; the ruggedness of a man who’d spent his life at sea, all rough stubble and sun-darkened skin swept with dark hair, his half-buttoned shirt straining over his wide shoulders in a way that really ought to be against the law, or at the very least prohibited during certain circumstances, like, say, when she was trying to keep her concentration so she didn’t fall and break every bone in her body.

The toned arm extended towards her, the right sleeve cinched around his bicep, flexing when he caught her eyes darting to it.

Her attempt at an unfazed expression faltered, and his chuckle chased her gaze when she averted it, although her blush was arguably more incriminating, but then it was hard not to be impressed, and she still wasn’t used to seeing him like this.

Curling her toes, she tested her balance. She’d rolled her breeches up past her knees, and her bare feet helped with her grip on the lines. The only thing she’d kept of the clothes she’d brought aboard with her was her loose-sleeved blouse, and even her kerchief had been exchanged for a longer scarf to better hold back her hair; red with white embroideries, he’d gifted it to her shortly after they’d set out from Fuschia, weaved into her long braid now, brushing her spine where it hung between her shoulder blades. She wore no further embellishments, although had wondered how she might look, with gold in her ears and on her fingers, or pearls from the bottom of the sea. Trappings for a different pirate, or at least a bolder one.

She missed her skirts, her silk bodices and embroidered aprons, but this was more practical, and better suited her new chores. Maybe one day she’d be a barmaid again, but for now she was a pirate, and if an enemy showed up, they wouldn’t be asking for a drink.

Shanks offered his hand again, and this time Makino took it, sea-roughened fingers wrapping around her smaller ones tightly, and her breath seized when he lifted her up, and so fast she had to stifle the startled yelp that escaped her, and heard his laughter, a softer thing now as she scrambled to hold on to her new perch on the ratlines beside him.

Her feet curled around the ropes as she tried to reclaim her balance, her breath hitching when the rigging swayed.

She watched as Shanks moved, his leg sliding behind hers as he put himself behind her. A big hand settled over one of hers, gripping it reassuringly.

“Breathe,” came the gentle order, as her back met the sturdy width of his chest, the support allowing her to relax enough to slacken her death grip on the lines, the breath she’d been holding easing out as she did. His feet caged hers, tiny in comparison, his body keeping her secure on the lines. The top of her head was barely level with his sternum; she could feel the warmth of his skin bared by his shirt where it pressed against her back. “Attagirl.”

Shifting his weight, his hips brushed against her backside, and her breath shivered with her laugh, feeling him.

“This is hardly what I’d call professional,” Makino said, even as she yielded some of her weight to him, glad of the support offered by his bigger frame.

“What are you talking about? I’m the essence of professionalism. I just have a very hands-on approach to teaching.” His grin brushed the tender spot on her neck beneath her ear as he rumbled, “This is the first time I hear you complaining about that.”

“I’m not complaining,” Makino said, the shiver in her voice betraying her reaction, but sensing an opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine, added demurely, “I like having you behind me.”

She felt his surprise in the startled grip of his fingers, and could picture his grin from the winded laugh that reached through her back.

“Say things like that and you’ll make me lose my grip.” The way he pressed against her felt retaliatory, her breath hitching at the grind of his hips, and the hardness beneath her rear. “I’m trying to show you the ropes here.” His lips skimmed the back of her neck, the fleeting kiss followed by a rumble, “Although if we move this to our cabin I can show you some different ones.”

Her heart skipped, although not so much for the suggestion as for the casual use of our that had found its way into his vocabulary lately.

Her laugh was soft, and she felt him squeeze her hand. “Such a thorough education you’re giving me.”

“Well, I want you to be prepared,” Shanks said, as a grinning kiss marked the spot above her pulse. “There are some real scoundrels on this sea.”

“Oh, I know.” Her eyes flicked up to catch his, tempered steel in the sunlight. “If I’m not careful, one might steal me away on his ship.”

His look softened, a gentler kind of heat, before he bent to kiss the crown of her head.

But even teasingly said, it touched upon something she hadn’t broached with him yet; an underlying fear that had followed her from East Blue like a shadow in the water, and that was a large part of why she wanted to learn how to sail.

She didn’t want him to regret taking her with him―that there should come a day when her inexperience would cease being endearing, if she became a burden he couldn’t afford to have on his ship.

“Hey,” Shanks said then; the shift in his tone made her blink, before she realised that her thoughts had wandered. “Everything okay?”

Makino nodded, and hoped the slight quaver in her voice helped make her lie convincing. “Just made the mistake of looking down.”

There was a beat where she wondered if he’d seen through her deceit, but then, “As much as I’m enjoying teaching you,” Shanks said, and she was surprised there was no teasing in his voice now, “you know you don’t have to learn this, right? I captain a pretty big crew. We’ve got plenty of hands on deck, and that’s not an amputee quip.”

Murmurs of agreement backed him, from the crew gathered below, all of them having come out on deck to observe. She’d ask them to mind their own business if she’d thought it would work, but recognised a lost battle. They hadn’t minded their own business since the day they’d met.

Although catching the wary looks on their faces, she wondered if the real reason they’d gathered to watch was so they could catch her if she slipped.

Ben was holding the baby, wide-eyed and sucking on his fingers where he watched them both aloft, and she had the sudden thought that he probably wouldn’t forget it if she fell to her death.

It almost made her hesitate, wondering if she really was pushing it, and that her focus was better spent on something a little less hazardous, like charting stars or assisting Marsh in the galley, and not on building a career as a sailor when she was long past the age most swabbies got their first posting. She wasn’t even a proper swabbie, but couldn’t exactly claim a higher rank when she had no skills or credentials to back it up.

But there was a part of her that wouldn’t back down, even against her own misgivings. She couldn’t choose this life, his life, and keep living the way she had. This sea wouldn’t allow it, and she’d be naive if she believed otherwise.

It was never going to be easy, and she was painfully aware that she’d chosen the worst possible time to abandon her law-abiding job to become a pirate. Granted, most fledgling pirates didn’t achieve overnight fame and a back-bending kiss on the cover of the WENP. If she’d hoped for a subtle change of careers, that ship had thoroughly sailed.

But whatever kind of pirate she turned out to be, she didn’t want to be useless. At the very least, she wanted to know her way around his ship.

“It’s not like I’m going to put you on watch duty,” Shanks said, when a lull had passed where she hadn’t spoken. “That’s why we have Fen, although between you and me, if Whiskey could sound the alarm, he’d be out of a job.”

“No offence, Boss, but that cat was shat out of satan’s arsehole,” spoke the freckled young man seated on the yard above them, with the ease of someone who spent a lot of time aloft, and who didn’t have thirty-two years of deeply burrowed roots holding him back. “But yeah, you’re probably right.”

“If our ship’s cat can do it, then I should be able to,” Makino retorted pertly, although didn’t say that she’d rather not spend a whole night in the crow’s nest by herself. Not that Shanks would ask her, and if he did, he’d have something rather different in mind than keeping watch, but even that would be moot if she couldn’t get up there by herself.

If they hadn’t had an audience, she might have told him. Instead what she said was, “I can’t be a pirate without any sailing skills, Shanks.”

“Hey, there are plenty of pirates who have no sailing skills,” Shanks countered. “Don’t underestimate how much you can get away with by riding someone’s coattails. It’s done wonders for Buggy’s career.”

“At this rate, he’ll be an Emperor soon,” Fen said.

“Who will?” Yasopp asked, appearing on the yard beside Fen, causing Makino to start, and she was glad to have Shanks behind her, as she didn’t lose her grip. She hadn’t even seen him climb up, but, “Hey, Ma-chan,” he chirped, swinging his legs over the yard as he took a seat. “How’s it hanging?”

“Oh, just swimmingly,” Makino sighed, and tried not to squirm, uncomfortably aware of all the eyes on her. Unlike Shanks, she’d never loved the spotlight, particularly when doing something she wasn’t good at, and it was a little intimidating to have a whole crew of experienced pirates observing her stumbling attempts into learning their craft.

For all its delight, Yasopp’s grin was understanding, and her gratitude was silent when that sharp-eyed gaze left her to look at Fen, his arms crossed over his chest in a casual repose as he repeated his earlier question, “So who’ll be an Emperor soon?”

“Buggy,” Fen said.

Yasopp snorted, but after a beat, conceded, “You know, I wouldn’t put it past him. He’s got a way of falling upwards.” Then with a grin, “Roster’s getting pretty packed now, though, with Luffy and this one,” he said, nodding to Makino. “You’ll have to watch out for challengers now that you’ve announced yourself, Ma-chan. It’s eat or be eaten on this sea.”

“Don’t,” Makino said primly, before Shanks could open his mouth, and she couldn’t see his grin but she could imagine it well enough. Then to Yasopp, “And please don’t include me in this power-grabbing contest.”

“I hate to break it to you, my heart, but it’s a little late for that,” Shanks said.

“You did give an interview,” Yasopp pointed out.

“The photograph was also hard to misinterpret,” Fen agreed.

“I don’t mind what they call me,” Makino said, and already knew what it was, the endearment that had been given to her by the man she’d married long before she’d asked him to take her with him, but Empress was symbolic, not declarative, and the title itself wasn’t the issue. “It’s about what they expect. I’m not going to challenge anyone, I just want to be a normal pirate. No politics, just plain and simple swashbuckling. Whatever happened to parrots and peg legs?”

“Do you want a parrot?” Shanks asked.

“What I want is for my merits to speak for themselves,” she said, gently firm as she tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “Small and unimportant as they might be.”

His look held a thought he didn’t share, but before he could say anything, “So I’m not riding your coattails,” she told him, and was quick to add, “And don’t,”―he pinched his lips shut, although the boyish grin stayed―“make that into something lewd. It’s too easy, even for you.”

“She’s got a point, Cap,” Yasopp said. Fen made a noise of agreement.

“I feel like you’re all underestimating my creativity, but whatever,” Shanks said. “Also, ‘even for you’, wife? The level of disrespect. You’re on my ship now, and last I checked, I was still the captain.”

Doubtful murmurs from the deck below, which he answered by sticking his tongue out.

Her smile was sweetly mutinous. “Let me rephrase, then: I’m not riding your coattails, Captain.”

She knew from his grin that she was going to be paying for that later, but, “Have I told you that I find your premature midlife crisis adorable?” Shanks said instead. “Most people just change their hair. Or buy a really big boat.”

“Or marry a younger woman,” Ben supplied from around his toothpick. The baby on his arm was falling asleep, his head tucked under his chin.

Shanks turned his head to call down, “Et tu, you ass?”

Laughing agreement from the rest of their crew set off a debate of who’d had the biggest midlife crisis to date―a tie between Yasopp’s dreads and their captain’s choice of wife, who demurely elected to have no opinion on the matter―and Makino felt the momentary reprieve of their attentions, Shanks’ in particular, who for all his easygoing attitude had been watching her closely since they’d begun climbing the rigging.

It wasn’t that he minded her learning, but she wondered sometimes if he’d expected her to take the safer route, or at least one that didn’t include the risk of breaking her neck. His desire to protect her was endearing, if a little hypocritical from a man who was entirely too casual about danger. Their departure from East Blue was only the most recent example.

It had been a few weeks since her birthday, when she’d left the only home she’d ever known, chased from her safe shores by a fleet of navy warships. That last part had thankfully not needed repeating, but then the navy didn’t have the same foothold on this sea, or the presence to enforce their authority, in her husband’s territory.

Hers now, too, or at least symbolically, although even then it was a lot to accept for someone whose only claim before this had been to a little bar on the seaside. She still hadn’t fully grasped the finer points of the New World’s politics, aside from the precarious balance of powers that always felt one nudge away from toppling, and even saying that she wanted no part in it, she wondered sometimes if she would even have a choice.

Warm fingers squeezed hers. “Ready?” Shanks asked, and with a fortifying breath, Makino nodded.

She felt him shift his weight, yielding room for her as she made to climb further up the ratlines, and following close behind her until they reached the footrope beneath the course yard, where the bottom sails were stowed.

Reaching past her, she watched him swing himself up onto the yard, nimble in a way that never ceased to amaze her. She’d used to observe him working aloft, that first year they’d been docked in Fuschia, but watching him still stole her breath, his amputation no more a hindrance than the wind, and sure-footed in a way that made her wonder if he’d ever feared anything.

She wished for a bit of that confidence now, as she focused on making it look like she wasn’t clinging to the ratlines now that he was no longer behind her.

Her gaze fleeted down to the deck. She’d never been particularly afraid of heights, but then she’d made a point of keeping her feet planted firmly on the ground. The only other occasions she’d stepped out of her comfort zone had been at his direction, except this was a bit higher up than atop a table.

Shanks extended his hand to her, and this time she was prepared when he pulled her up, her weight not even a minor burden as he lifted her onto the course yard in a single, fluid movement.

His hand cupped her elbow, steadying her as she found her footing. It was the lowest yard on the mast, but the distance to the deck still felt considerable.

The sea spray was gentle against her cheeks, touched pink by the sun that had darkened her freckles, the weeks they’d been at sea. The salt wind kept trying to stubbornly coax her hair out of her scarf, a few rogue strands freed to brush her cheekbones.

Looking up at Shanks found him watching her, so tall she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes, a thought behind them she wasn’t privy to, but at her questioning look he just said, “It suits you.”

Bemusement wrinkled her brow as she laughed, winded from the climb, “What, sweat and your old capris?”

The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened, a fey smile that made her wonder if she’d guessed correctly, before his hand lifted to cradle her cheek, his thumb brushing the arch of her cheekbone before tucking an errant lock of salt-swept hair back into her scarf, as Shanks said simply, “The sea.”

Her grin wavered, and she had no comeback to that, but he only curled his fingers under hers, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles, before gesturing to the mast. “After you.”

He let her grip his hand until she’d found a foothold, and kept one step behind her as she climbed the ratlines towards the top of the mast, until they’d reached the topgallant yard, and balancing on the footrope, he waited until she’d hoisted herself up before climbing up beside her.

The sea spooled out beneath them, the blue silk sky above the horizon the most perfect she’d ever seen. This high up, the wind sang louder between the masts, laughing where it tugged and teased the rigging, the shrouds stretched taut and the ratlines creaking as the ship swayed.

Releasing a shuddering breath, Makino eased her legs down on either side of the wooden yard. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to seeing the world from this perspective, and couldn’t say if the thrill she felt leaned more towards fear or excitement. 60/40, probably.

She looked down.

…or maybe 70/30.

Searching for a distraction, she lifted her eyes to Shanks, his long legs draped astride the yard, like he might sit on one of the benches in the galley. “How does it feel?”

Breathing in deeply, “Like I want to throw up,” Makino said, and saw his grin where it split his face.

Her smile softened, and keeping her eyes on him, she said, “And like I never want to go back down.”

His grin held understanding, and a feeling that made her heart ache, it was so fierce, and that wasn’t the view’s doing, although it was an undeniably spectacular sight, the sea and the sky ever-bending, the world stretched as far as it would go from horizon to horizon; an otherworldliness about this ocean that was humbling, faced with her own mortality against those terrifying powers, which had nothing to do with the pirates who sailed it.

Before coming to the New World, she hadn’t known what to expect. Between Shanks’ camping stories and the navy’s propaganda, all she’d known was that it wouldn’t be anything like East Blue, which meant she couldn’t keep being the same person she’d been. Not if she wanted to be in an Emperor’s crew, even just as his wife. There was no room for the ordinary in this realm, where only the extraordinary survived.

Lowering her gaze, she braved a glance at the deck far below. Hopefully she wouldn’t fall and break her neck. Given the countless ways to die on this sea, it seemed a somewhat anticlimactic way to go.

Lifting her eyes to Shanks found him considering her, outlined by the sun behind him, his eyes hooded under his scars, a curiously vulnerable look in them now, as though he couldn’t quite make himself believe she was really there.

She wondered if that look would fade, if he ever came to regret bringing her with him.

The intrusive thought slipped past her defences, before she blinked it away.

“So, my barmaid,” Shanks said, the tender note in his voice rendering it too sincere for teasing. “How are you finding the pirate’s life so far?”

She hoped her smile didn’t betray her earlier thoughts. “It’s actually been pretty uneventful,” Makino said, with a lightness that attempted to conceal the slight shiver in her voice. “I’m almost beginning to wonder if you really were exaggerating about all your dangerous escapades. I’ve seen no bears, either.”

His smile indulged her teasing, but his silence was telling.

She wondered what he was shielding her from, and if she even wanted to know. But even if she couldn’t hide from it forever, she was grateful for the uneventfulness of their voyage thus far. It wasn’t the same as Fuschia, with its gentle monotony, and where change had always been welcome. On this sea, change could easily be synonymous with war.

Her stomach twisted at the reminder, but looking out over the sea found it calm, although she did wonder what would happen the day it inevitably caught up with them. Shanks had enemies, and one in particular had featured in her nightmares since long before she’d asked to come with him.

Blinking her eyes, she dispelled the thought of Blackbeard, anchoring her focus in the present, and Shanks on the yard beside her, in his shirtsleeves and with his pants rolled up past his knees, the deceptive trappings of a simple sailor, and not the pirate lord the world knew. The wind had dragged its fingers through his hair, and his scars looked gentler under the look of contentment on his face, his staggering features eased with a smile, and the note of tension that was usually there gone from his brow.

Looking at him, it was almost easy to forget the authority he held on this sea; the kind of power he commanded, and the territories under his flag. To believe for a few seconds that she might be a simple sea captain’s wife, and nothing more.

But lifting her eyes to the top of the mast, and the jolly roger dancing on the breeze, there was no denying what he was, and what she was now, and had been since the day she’d married him. That the pirate who’d stolen her away from her quiet shores was not the same who’d first dropped anchor in her port twelve years ago; the one she knew as her husband.

She didn’t know him like that―as Emperor. She wondered idly if that was what he was shielding her from, more than anything else.

“You know,” Shanks said then, his eyes meeting hers. “You’re handling this a lot better than most do, their first time aloft. Buggy only made it halfway up―I bet him that I could climb higher, so of course he had to prove me wrong. You should have seen him. Captain had to climb up to get him down.”

“What about you?” Makino asked, smiling. She could picture it easily, for all that she’d never actually met Buggy.

His grin belonged to the eight-year-old up to no good, all boyish pride. “I made it to the top.”

“He had to get you down too, didn’t he?”

“Yup. I think I even cried a little on the way down.”

Her laugh tumbled out, the sound softening his eyes, and she saw his gaze where it drifted a bit, as though remembering.

Watching him, Makino tried to picture their son at that age, if he would be similarly brave, and foolish, and if he might have a little brother or sister egging him on. Maybe even more than one.

It wasn’t the first time the thought found her, imagining more children. She hadn’t brought it up since the birth of their son, and didn’t know how to broach the subject now, when their lives had changed so much. She hadn’t been able to make herself ask him what he felt about it, afraid of what the answer would be. It was already a risk having her on board, and a baby who wasn’t even a year old. A pregnancy wouldn’t exactly make things easier.

Would he think it would be too dangerous for her to stay? She couldn’t say he would be wrong, but just thinking about going back to her life before, and that aching loneliness, to wait, scared and alone on some island, filled her with a fear that made all her other worries pale in comparison.

She knew his old captain had accepted the risk, allowing the wife and children of one of his men to sail with them, but it had been a different time, and from what Shanks had told her, she could hold her own against the best in their crew. Makino couldn’t say the same for herself.

“It proves my point, though,” Shanks said, drawing her back from where her thoughts had gone, and her hand slipped from where it had been worrying her stomach. The admiration in his voice was genuine, but then for all his teasing, he’d never been the type to indulge her just to make her feel better. “You’re a natural. At this rate you’ll be dancing on the yards in no time.”

The impulse seized her, not an unusual feeling where he was concerned, wanting his eyes on her, and his admiration. It was what gave her the courage now, overtaking her fear, and spurred by the sight of his eyes widening, Makino put the future out of her mind, focusing instead on Shanks as she made to push to her feet.

Shifting her weight, she rose to her full height. She wasn’t looking at him now, but felt his focus, the near-physical grip of his eyes, fastened on her where she balanced on the yard. The wind tugged her blouse from where she’d tucked it into the waistline of her breeches, filling her lungs, until she felt light as air. Aside from being terrifying, there was something exhilarating about being aloft, so high up it felt like you could see to the very ends of the world.

The yard creaked beneath her bare feet, but her balance held as she walked the length of the yardarm, her arms lifted, but she didn’t waver, a balletic grace that cheerfully defied her hesitance climbing up, and reaching the end of the yard, she turned to find his mouth hanging open, and couldn’t keep her smile demure where it split her face, her secret revealed.

She wished she could commemorate the look on his face somehow, as Shanks told her, “I don’t know what I’m more proud of, your acting skills or the fact that you’ve been practicing without me noticing.”

Smiling, she didn’t mention that the last one had been a bigger challenge than learning to work aloft, but the nights he’d been busy with their son, going to sleep early, she’d sneak out to practice. Fen and Yasopp had been teaching her, and she saw Shanks single out both culprits now in the crow’s nest, wearing near-identical grins.

His eyes found hers again, a new look in them now, as though he was seeing her differently. And it was a look she knew but that never failed to catch her off guard, something that was at once tender and fierce, and that filled her with a thrill that knew no equal, even against the adrenaline rush of being aloft where she stood atop the sea, dressed in the warm spray and the salt wind and with blisters on her hands and feet that it would take some time yet to become proper callouses.

She wondered what he saw now when he looked at her, if it was a barmaid or a pirate; wasn’t sure which she felt like, but the look on his face rendered the distinction unimportant.

Glancing down, the drop still made her stomach turn in on itself, but it was a different feeling being up here now than it had been the first time. It might also have something to do with his reaction, and the grin that was so proud it looked like it couldn’t go any wider.

Her own pride made her bold, and made her forget the distance to the deck, and holding his eyes, she didn’t pay enough attention to her feet, or the loose bit of rope where it peeked out from where the sails were stowed.

It caught her foot.

She saw Shanks’ eyes widening, his grin falling as he scrambled to reach for her, but it was too late.

Terror seized her limbs, and even the formerly playful wind couldn’t cushion her fall as she plummeted through the air. For all that it had seemed so far, the drop to the deck below was quick, and she had less than a second to think as she twisted mid-air, grabbing for the rope as Fen tossed it down, and her heart lurched into her mouth as her downward descent changed course, the momentum provided by her fall allowing her to swing around the main mast.

The wind rushed by, dragging tears from her eyes and a terrified laugh from her chest as she soared through the air, towards the deck and the crew who’d gathered to watch, wearing horrified expressions and looking like they’d been prepared to catch her, but they were forced to step aside as Makino released her grip on the line.

Her landing wasn’t as smooth as she’d wanted, as releasing the rope saw her stumbling forward as her feet touched the deck, multiple pairs of hands reaching out to grab her, but she didn’t fall, catching herself against Lucky, who was the closest.

A full second of stunned silence followed where no one made a sound, before Yasopp let out a whooping cheer, but the rest looked so shocked, they didn’t immediately respond.

She saw the first wavering grin, before more rippled through the crowd, followed by their voices, their salt-hewn timbres raised in a roar under the open sky. It filled her chest, leaving her lightheaded as rough hands ruffled her hair and gripped her shoulders.

Still reeling, Makino didn’t tell them she was glad for the support, because it felt like her knees were about to give out.

Her heart was pounding against the roof of her mouth, adrenaline and childlike exhilaration pulling a winded laugh from her chest, bright and airy as she lifted her eyes to the main mast, only to find Shanks calling down towards her.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she didn’t even attempt a demure smile this time, or pretend her knees weren’t trembling as badly as her voice, even as she called up, “Were you worried, Captain?”

His breath left him in a gust she couldn’t decide whether or not was a laugh.

She watched as he lifted to his feet, her eyes widening as he reached for one of the lines, before diving off the topgallant yard, using the propulsion from his jump to swing around the mast like she had, although with far more control.

But where she’d expected him to step onto the deck, he only shifted his weight, allowing his momentum to carry him towards where she was standing, and she’d just realised what he meant to do when he swept her off her feet, the arm extended to hold the line wrapping around her tightly.

Her hands scrambled for purchase, clinging to his broad shoulders, a shrieking laugh pulling from her lips, chased by his deeper cadence as they soared through the air, once more around the mast. The wind carried them forward, and glancing down saw the drop to the water below, but it wasn’t fear that filled her this time, her nose buried in his neck with her laughter, like when he’d spin her, dancing in her bar as the fiddle played until she was dizzy and gasping for breath, only this time they danced on the squalls to the singing of the ship.

He put them down on the deck, his arm around her keeping her legs from giving out as he stepped off, holding her to him as he gently eased her down on her feet. Her whole body shook, adrenaline and laughter in equal measure as she steadied herself against his body.

His arm curled around her loosely, his palm spanning her back, but he didn’t let her go, which Makino appreciated, as she didn’t trust her legs just yet.

“That’s payback for nearly giving me a heart attack,” Shanks said, playfully chiding, although there was a slight waver in his voice that couldn’t be smoothed over with humour.

Looking up at him where he held her, her beaming smile didn’t know how to contain itself. “I wanted to surprise you.”

His look softened, somehow both achingly proud and mildly exasperated, as he told her wryly, “You succeeded.” Touching his chest, he let out a wheezing sigh. “Well, at least I know my ticker is working. Always good to know at my age.”

“I try to keep you on your toes,” Makino said, and gently glib, “That’s what a younger wife is for, or so I’ve heard.”

The chuckle that left him was winded, and pulling her close, “I love you,” he sighed. “You’ll send me to an early grave, but at least I’ll be really excited about it.”

Her grin hurt. “Any comments on my form?”

“Exquisite. Dainty and petite. Perfect, tiny breas―”

She clapped her hands over his mouth, her laughter loud and startled. “Shanks!”

“What?” he asked, his voice muffled behind her hands. “Oh, was that not what you were referring to?” His grin peeked out from behind her splayed fingers, her palms catching on his beard as he chuckled, “My bad.”

Kissing her fingers, he wrapped his own around them, his big hand dwarfing hers as he squeezed it. Makino almost thought it felt like his fingers were shaking.

His grin had eased a bit, although his voice was rough with pride as he kissed her small fist and said, “Quick reaction time, and damn impressive manoeuvres. A bit shaky on the landing, but you get extra points for theatrics.”

Beaming, she didn’t mention that she’d fallen on her ass the first eight attempts; she was just delighted she’d stuck the landing when it counted. “I still need more practice going down,” Makino said.

His whole face brightened, his grin fairly wolfish, and she recognised her mistake a second too late.

“Oh my god,” she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with a gusting laugh.

“I’m torn between vehemently disagreeing with that statement and graciously offering myself up for you to practice on,” Shanks said, his arm wrapping around her as she bent her head towards his chest, her laughter helpless as he lowered his voice to murmur, “You know my feelings about that particular skill of yours. Look; it’s already got a standing ovation.”

She pinched his side, and demurely ignored said standing ovation where it pressed against her stomach, her arms wrapped around his waist as she leaned into his chest, his laughter soft as he pulled her close, a trembling kiss pressed to the parting of her hair.

The others were there, their voices raised with delight, “Seriously, Makino!”

Nervous laughter. “You really had us going there for a moment!”

“Yeah, no shit. I thought my heart was about to fall through my ass!”

“Lovely image,” Shanks said, his arm sliding around her back as she leaned into his side.

Ben was holding Ace, awakened from his brief nap by the commotion. For once, his untouchable expression yielded a surprising amount of feeling, although Makino didn’t know whether to call it relief or like he desperately needed a smoke.

“You’re supposed to be the one with sense,” he told her, handing the baby over to Shanks when he reached his arms towards his father.

Shanks just grinned, and settling their son on his arm, “Just wait until this little guy begins climbing the rigging. It’s a good thing you can’t get any greyer, Ben, but then it’s my turn now, I guess.”

Ben looked at them both, then at his godson. Makino wondered if it was the first time the thought had occurred to him.

Smiling, and ignoring the thought of how she would handle an overactive toddler on a ship, “Wish you hadn’t quit smoking?” Makino asked him.

Ben looked at the baby, making excited babbling noises as Shanks pointed at a seagull grooming on the yard where they’d been sitting.

But for all his long-suffering, and the worry she still felt that they’d be too much trouble to have aboard, it wasn’t regret that made a startled grin break across his face, catching even her off guard as Ben said, and with a look that made her wonder if he knew what she was hiding, “A small sacrifice.”

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nejibaby · 4 years

Text

The Only Thing I Got Right

Pairings: Ace x Y/N

A/N: I just finished watching the Marineford Arc and I cried so much so I wrote this on a whim. Sorry in advance if there are grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. It's the tears' fault, I swear! 😭 ((I just desperately wanted Ace to survive, you know? 😭))

This song reminds me of Ace, idk why.

You’re shaking. It would’ve been nice if it was because of the cold or if it was from excitement, but this isn’t the case. You’re shaking from fear, from anxiety. Today, Ace, the love of your life, is going to be executed and you didn’t know if you’d make it on time. You barely got out of Impel Down alive with the help of Ace’s little brother, Luffy.

You hate the fact that you got thrown there with Ace courtesy of Teach, or should you say, Blackbeard. You hate the fact that you couldn’t save Ace from Blackbeard no matter how hard you tried fighting him. It was frustrating, but if a Devil Fruit user like Ace had no match for him, what more of you? You have no powers like that, the only thing that you have is your knowledge on Rokushiki and daggers.

You got imprisoned at Level 3 of Impel Down while Ace was rumored to be on Level 5. Being thrown on a relatively lower level was understandable, even if you are part of Whitebeard’s crew, you are no commander like Ace. Still, even if you are weaker than Ace, you desperately wanted to go get him out of there but it was impossible. Or so you thought.

When you saw a Straw Hat on a male running around with two others on Level 3, you instantly knew it was Luffy. It seemed like god was in your favor because apparently one of your cellmates, who you came to learn was Mr. 2 from Baroque Works, was Luffy’s friend. When he got Mr. 2 out of the shackles, you begged to come with them, telling him your relationship with Ace. Luckily for you, Luffy needed all the help he could get so he easily got you out with the help of the other prisoner he was with. It was all chaos after that.

You’re currently hiding in the crow’s nest of the Marine ship you helped steal alongside Crocodile, Mr. 1, and Jinbei. Your body is already aching from all the running and fighting you did just to escape Impel Down. But even before that, your body had already been tired from the lack of nutrition and of sleep. How could you even dare to sleep knowing Ace was somewhere else, probably beaten to a pulp? And if that wasn’t enough, the sudden knowledge of him being executed in a few hours added more strain and tension to your body. You didn’t want anyone to see you in such a state. You didn’t want anyone to pity you.

But if you’re hurting this much, then it must’ve been so much harder for Luffy. You make a mental note to talk to him before crashing to Marineford. For now though, you need to rest — not only for your body, but for your mind as well. You have to be ready, the worst is yet to come. When you closed your eyes, you welcomed sleep like an old forgotten friend.

Your sleep didn’t last long, however, because of both the nightmare of Ace reaching out for you with bloodied hands and of the waters that suddenly rocked the whole ship. Before you could even get down the crow’s nest, the ship abruptly stilled and the air chilled. When you looked down, you clenched your teeth at the sight of the sea that turned into ice.

A mental clock was ticking like a time bomb in your mind. How were you supposed to save Ace now?

As if hearing your question, Luffy started gathering the people in the ship about his plan. At this point, you would do anything just to get to Ace so you didn’t hesitate to help him in his plan on freeing the ship from the ice. But the next thing you know, you were falling after kicking the thick layer of ice as hard as you can.

Just as you looked down to where you’re supposed to land, you realized that it was Marineford and the war had already started. With a little tilt of your head, you see Ace in the scaffold, shackled up. Worry was etched on his face, his focus on Luffy. You could almost hear him saying how stupid his little brother is.

Was it wrong to smile at the sight of him at a time like this? But how could you not? He’s still alive! You have a chance at saving him. You release a sigh of relief.

You try not to draw his attention to you. He already has a lot to worry about — namely, the Whitebeard pirates, the allied pirates, and Luffy. It was a good decision that you didn’t change out of your prison clothes, it was easier not to get noticed by him this way. For all he knows, you’re just one of the many escapees Luffy helped. You want to keep it that way. At least for now.

There’s no time to waste, so when you landed, you immediately head off to the direction of the scaffold. After seeing that Ace was still alive, you feel yourself get pumped up again. You fight each and every Marine who tries to stop you.

No matter how hard each blow you receive, no matter how painful each swipe of the swords you get, no matter how many times you get knocked down, you keep on fighting. You keep on standing up. There’s only so much your Tekkai could do when you’re severely outnumbered. Nevertheless, you keep on going. Nevermind the multiple cuts and bruises you have. There is only one thing in your mind and that is saving Ace. Even at the expense of your own life.

From the way Luffy fought at Impel Down, you know he’s incredibly strong and tenacious so you find yourself backing him up. You don’t go near him, knowing Ace’s attention was on him, but you guard him from your side. Not a single Marine was able to pass through you from your side of the battlefield. But you can’t cover every area for him. Despite that, he managed to take down anyone who was in his way.

Your ears are ringing from all the overlapping noises of guns being fired, screams of agony from pirates and Marines, swords clanging, and hurried footsteps. At one point, you block all of the sounds while you focus on your own breathing as you run.

Even when everyone stopped moving to watch as Pops descended the Moby Dick and made his move, you continued running. You have to keep up with Luffy. There’s no way you’d let Ace die.

The only moment you actually stopped running was when Luffy unconsciously used the Conqueror’s Haki. So he can do that too, you thought.

That was also the moment you actually got to look at the surroundings properly and realized that Pops had been stabbed. Your knees buck from the sight and you fall down. Regret immediately flooding your body. You’re so focused on trying to save Ace that you didn’t notice Pops needed help too.

The Marines took this opportunity to attack you. Just as a sword was about to hit you, McGuy blocked it.

“What are you doing, Y/N? Snap out of it. This is war. There’s no way we’d be able to rescue Ace if you don’t get your bearings straight!”

The harshness in his tone brought you back to reality. He’s right. Pops ordered everyone to lend their strength to Luffy, and that’s exactly what you’re going to do.

You, along with everyone else, push yourselves to your limits to help Luffy. He did not disappoint. He even punched his own grandfather, Garp, just to be able to reach Ace and free him.

The moment the scaffold collapsed, you almost collapsed with it. Tears start falling from your eyes as you see Ace finally free from his shackles. A smile has finally graced his face as he fought side by side with his brother. At that moment, you think that he’s at his brightest when he’s with his sworn brother. You couldn’t be any more happier.

Now that he is free, it’s time to figure out how to escape. Everyone’s running towards the ships but you stop after noticing Pops wasn’t making the same movement.

“The order I’m about to give will be my final captain’s order!” Pops announces. “You and I will be parting here.”

Your breath hitched at the declaration.

“All of you, make sure you survive, and reunite with each other in the New World!”

You don’t listen to whatever he says next. You refuse to. You stand your ground. You’re not going to abandon the man who warmly accepted you into his family without hesitation despite knowing all of the crimes you committed.

As if sensing your refusal, he turns slightly to your direction, “Are you disobeying your captain’s orders?!”

Stupid old man, he should know by now that you’re no good at following orders.

Ace is one of the last persons to follow his order. You turn away from the conversation they are having, knowing it was a private matter.

When they’re done talking and Ace finally starts running towards the ship, Pops turns to you. He doesn’t talk, he just looks at you.

Shame suddenly overcomes you. You didn’t get to stop Ace from coming for Teach. When he left, you begged Pops everyday to allow you to set sail, promising that you’d bring Ace back. When he finally allowed you, you didn’t waste any time. But even when you found him, you couldn’t bring him back, it was too late and you were just too weak. It was your fault this happened. “Pops, I’m sorry I—”

“I did this. This is all my fault.”

“But—”

He shut you up with his stare.

“Let’s leave here together,” you plead.

But he doesn’t reply. With his stare, you can tell that he isn’t backing down on his order, no matter how much you persuade him to. You release a shaky breath. With tears streaming down your face, you gave one last bow and one last thank you.

And then you ran.

The others are already further away from you but you notice a group of them stopping in their tracks. There in the center of the commotion is Akainu and Ace, seemingly discussing something.

There’s no time for this, you thought.

“—In other words, Whitebeard is an eternal loser, who will never surpass Roger. That’s all he is. Everything I’ve said is the truth,” the admiral says. “He reigned the seas for decades, yet he never became a king or gained anything.”

You clench your jaw at the bullshit he’s spouting, after everything Pops had done to save you, you’re livid to hear him be deduced as a loser. But regardless of the anger rising in front of you, you know this wasn’t the time to get riled up.

The thing is, Ace gets easily riled up. It’s one of his flaws as a person. So when he starts walking to Akainu’s direction, Izo is first to shout, “Don’t fall for it, Ace! Turn back!”

But it’s no use.

That’s when you let your presence known, you shout at the top of your lungs, “Just turn back, Ace!”

Everyone whips their head at the sound of your voice, except Ace and Akainu.

Even you, who are usually able to keep Ace in check, couldn’t snap him out of his anger.

It’s too late.

They exchange blows. Ace falls down, magma is far greater than fire, after all.

“The Pirate King, Gold Roger. Dragon, the Revolutionary. These two men’s sons being stepbrothers is quite a frightening thought.” Akainu says.

When he looks over at Luffy’s direction, you immediately know what he plans to do. You don’t even think twice. There is no second to waste.

“Soru.”

The sound of your voice finally reaches Ace. His eyes widen in realization of what’s going to happen.

“Wait!” He pleads.

But before he could even stand up, you already placed yourself in front of Luffy. “Tekkai.”

But the admiral’s strength and power is far greater than your ability. His fist goes through your chest.

“Y/N!” Ace shouts.

The rest of Division Commanders are in shock.

Akainu clicks his tongue at the sight of you and detaches his fist from your body.

You slump, Luffy catching you in the process. “Oi, Y/N-chan... What did you…? Why did y-you d-do that?” He asks.

In no time, Ace comes to Luffy’s side. “Y/N…”

You smile sweetly at the two men and then you turn to Luffy. “You’re Ace’s brother, silly. Of course I’d do this for you.” You cough out blood and then hiss at the pain.

“Stop talking!” Ace demands.

While Luffy and Ace are distracted, Akainu makes his move once again. But the slight motion didn’t go unnoticed by Jimbei and the Division Commanders. Even if you aren’t a Commander, you acted like Ace’s right hand. To the crew, you’re as important as Ace is. There’s no way they wouldn’t fight for you. So altogether they start covering for the three of you.

You feel your body shutting down on you. You could barely hear Ace calling for a doctor and Luffy desperately asking Ivankov to help you. But you know it’s no use. “I… can tell my body is at its limit,” you whisper.

Ace doesn’t agree, then he gently takes your body from Luffy. “No, I’m going to find someone else who can help—”

“Ace…”

“—you. There’s got to be someone who—“

“Ace… My organs have been burnt. I know this’ll be the end of me.”

“No, don’t talk like you’re dying, Y/N!”

“But I am…” You say. “Look Ace, don’t worry, okay? I was prepared to die when I came here. I was ready to die just to get you out of here.”

“Why would you…”

“Because I love you,” you whisper. “You know… when I take a look at my life and all of my crimes, you’re the only thing that I think I got right.”

Ace hides his face on your neck as he hugs you. With the little strength you have left, you give a comforting squeeze on his shoulder. “Don’t go around disobeying the captain’s order and don’t go around breaking your promise to Luffy. You said you won’t die, right?”

You feel Ace nod at your words.

“Go to the ships and take everyone else. Please don’t follow me too soon.”

Ace hugs you tighter, panting as he continues to cry.

A small smile reaches your lips once again. At least this time he’ll listen, you think. “I can’t raise my voice anymore but please tell Pops and everyone else, even Luffy, they made my life worthwhile. I’m sorry if our journey ends he—”

You didn’t even get to finish your sentence because darkness had consumed you.

#one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #ace x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace x y/n #portgas d. ace x you #portgas d. ace x y/n #portgas d. ace #portgas d ace #one piece imagines #marineford arc #ace lives #portgas d ace lives #portgas d. ace lives

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