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#This is not a jab to other ships this is not me saying they are less I'm just speaking on my personal feelings of their devotion
torchstelechos · 6 months
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A world with a Binghe without a Shizun makes me feel physically ill, the reverse is true as well.
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hi guys, may i introduce you to the concept of ailette/hestio
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If hesphael is ephael giving in to hestio with some jibes that have little to no heat behind them, then ailette/hestio is ailette returning hestio's energy even more and hestio not being able to take it. Ephael teases hestio with a ☺️ or 😄 face while ailette is like >:)) and she does not pull punches. she would embarrass him happily and watch him combust. They compete on a bunch of inconsequential things and hestio loses 80% of the time because ailette is just too cool like that.
#hestio ligenel#mimin voice i think everyone in this series should kiss hestio actually#i made that one post recently from twt abt how you end up making everyone in the franchise in love w ur fave#and i was like. me w tesilid#wrong actually its me w hestio. everyone should plant a big fat kiss on hestio's cheek it would delight me greatly#me yelling into the void in irinbi's vague direction:#hello could you please give hestio a love interest???? please???? for me???#like please PLEASE hestio has so much potential HE COULD BE SO FUNNY....#i am NOT immune to his irresistible tsundere charms#the fun thing abt shipping hestio w like literally every character is that he's slightly different w each of them but hes still very funny#i just want to see him imploding on himself a little. okay#like this scene is so funny to me. hes so cute#and he says the gnarliest things sometimes too like when he called ailette a cabbage bc her layers have layers#why are you calling a girl a cabbage.... he has no tact i want to pinch his cheek#i need someone to bully him a little#teshes flavour of teasing hestio would be done w a straight face and tesilid would let hestio off the hook very easily#hesphael flavour is ephael making good natured jabs abt things he knows hestio wont rly get super riled up abt#and then ailette just goes straight for his throat#actually while we're here lets think abt other hestio ships too. clears throat. please consider prinzhestio#it would be very cute bc prinz is very considerate and accomodating#he has the same vibes as pre regression tesilid except he doesnt give hestio blood pressure issues bc he can take care of himself#prinz isnt a doormat. he would probably be like. a hestio restrainer. stops hestio from losing his head at things and calms him down#hestio almost loses his temper and he takes a deep breath turns to prinz stares at him for a couple of seconds and then#turns back completely calm and serene again#AND ALSO prinz is a knight he can protect hestio#like listen its just in prinz's blood to be knightly and protect ppl arnd him okay that fits well w hestio's need to be protected#literally its so funny how hestio is like super vulnerable but hasnt awakened his aura. he just relies on ephael#what a princess. i love him.#(ephael voice) yeah okay ill protect you or youll prob die...#(tesilid voice) my obligations.... (prinz voice) OH NO ARE YOU OKAG
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matchingbatbites · 10 months
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"What the fuck did you do?"
Eddie wasn't expecting hostility when he answered Jeff's phone call, his best friend's usual calm demeanor replaced with open annoyance. And yeah, okay, the annoyance itself wasn’t new, but Eddie doesn’t think he’s actually done anything recently to earn it.
"Well-"
"Actually, no. I'll tell you what you did. You retweeted photos of Steve Harrington - internationally beloved heartthrob actor Steve Harrington - along with the caption 'not to sound like a subby slut but GOD I would be his puppy baby boy in a heartbeat'. So I guess the better question is, what the fuck were you thinking, Eddie?"
Eddie's jaw clicks shut because- yeah, he had done that. Had seen those photos of Steve smoking circling the internet and spent god knows how long just staring at them, had curbed the desire to shove his hand down his pants by posting a single thirst tweet about it.
“I was thinking, Jeff, that I'm allowed to post whatever I want to my private fucking twitter, man. I mean it's a free country, isn't a guy allowed to make a horny tweet about a sexy man every now and then?”
“You are, when you actually post it to your private account and not our award winning band's main account.”
No. Oh no. There's no way Eddie actually-
He rips his phone away from his face to open twitter, and realizes two things simultaneously. One, Jeff is right, he had posted it to the band's account. Not on his private, locked, personal account, but on the account that's actually open and free for literally anyone on earth to look at.
The second thing he realizes is that their notifications are currently flooded with responses to Eddie's tweet, somehow racking up into the thousands in the few hours it's been since. 
Jesus Christ.
“Eddie?”
The metalhead jerks back into the moment and put Jeff on speaker so he can scroll through the horde of replies, says “Fuck, I fucked up. Are we gonna have to do damage control on this?”
In the mess is a reply from Gareth's own personal account: @ corrodededdie stop tweeting from the band account challenge 🙄🙄🙄
”Maybe. There hasn't been any type of response from Harrington or his people, but they might ask us to take it down if it blows up too much.“
Eddie hums, thinking they might be too little, too late about it blowing up too much, and flips over to his main account so he can reply to Gareth's little jab appropriately. He isn't surprised to see that he has a couple of new messages, probably from other people wondering just what the fuck Eddie was thinking, but when he goes to check them-
He's never been happier that he turned on messages from followers only, because then he would have missed this, missed Steve Harrington's little profile picture beaming up at him from the screen of his phone, along with a new message request.
”Jeff, I gotta go,” he says, not even realizing he's cut the other man off.
“Eddie, what-
”Harrington messaged me. I'll call you back.“
Eddie doesn't wait for a response as he hangs up on Jeff, and his hands definitely aren't shaking as he opens the message from Steve. And listen- Eddie is a fan of the guy, that much should be obvious. 
Steve had grown in popularity around the same time Corroded Coffin had; he’d gotten some part in a drama film that had skyrocketed him into stardom, and Eddie fell in love the moment he saw that gorgeous face on the silver screen for the first time. He's never had a chance to interact with the guy, has been in the same place a few times but always missed him, like ships passing in the night, but Eddie's been fine with pining from afar, just like every other person on the planet that's even remotely attracted to men.
Besides, even with how popular Corroded Coffin has gotten over the years - a couple of Grammy’s here, a dozen chart topping metal songs there - Eddie doesn’t expect Steve to just. Know who Eddie is.
With all of this in mind, Eddie is expecting some kind of semi-casual request to take the tweet down, that it's not a good look for his image-
Anything other than what Steve actually sent.
'If you're puppy baby boy, does that make me Master? Or Daddy?'
And Eddie- 
Eddie slides down, sinks into his couch cushion as all of the blood in his body suddenly shifts, rushing to fill his dick like it's a fucking race. The phone almost slips out of his hand and he fumbles it briefly before taking a deep breath. 
Is Steve serious? He wouldn't send that if he wasn't serious, right?
This could be it, could be Eddie's one chance to impress Steve, to get his foot in the door of Steve's interest. He bites his lip and types out a reply, something quick that he sends before he can change his mind.
‘I’m open to either, actually. Do you have a preference, sir?’
He doesn’t expect the typing indicator to come up immediately, and just knowing that Steve is somewhere right now, typing out a response to Eddie, is enough to have him nearly vibrating in his seat.
‘I’m partial to Daddy, myself.’
Fuck fuck fuck.
Eddie takes a breath, tries to think of a response that isn’t just ‘Please, Daddy, can I sit on your massive dick that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since that one indie film you did that just had all of your junk out in the open?’
Steve saves him by sending another message.
‘But maybe we could start with Steve, and possibly dinner? Though I’d be happy to see where things go after that.’
He- What-
Eddie must have stopped breathing, because the next time he takes a breath his lungs burn, his mid races because there’s no way Eddie’s long term celebrity crush just asked him on a date. He sits there long enough that the screen goes dark and he scrambles to turn it back on, sees the message still there, real and unchanged.
There’s no way he can say no to this, to Steve, and his hands shake as he types out a response.
‘Dinner would be great. Just name the time and place, Daddy.’
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pholla-jm · 4 months
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I Got a Boyfriend!
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IMAGINE: I GOT A BOYFRIEND! ~ ZORO X READER feat: nami GENRE: FLUFF cw: zoro is a bit ooc. established relationship. alcohol consumption. ************
“Oh come on! Just one more drink. I promise, the next one is so good.” 
Nami drunkenly giggles at your words, you didn’t have to tell her twice. “Yeah!” 
You nod at her with a large smile and turn to the bartender, ordering more drinks. 
A couple minutes later, the bartender drops off your desired drinks. “I still.. .I still don’t know how you know these many drinks.” “My ma was a good bartender!” 
Nami awes at your words. 
“Anyway, I’m so glad that these drinks are free!” Nami giggles and you look at her confused. “Huh, since when?” 
Nami jabs her thumb towards a random man behind her. You didn’t need any other explanation. You just chuckle before taking some more sips from the cocktail. 
The more sips that you took, the more light you felt. Everything around you made you giggle. Especially when men constantly came up to Nami and tried to talk to her. She would barely give them the time of day. 
Soon, a small frown takes place. “You’re so pretty, Nami. Every man here has tried to talk to you.” Nami hums, her chin going into the palm of her hand. “Well… you kind of have a bodyguard.” She says, her eyes fluttering behind you. 
You whip around, however, you moved a little too fast and your vision blurred. You couldn’t see anything well and soon your brain becomes foggy with confusion. 
You turn back to Nami with an exasperated sigh, “I don’t see anyone” You whine out and grab your drink. Without even thinking, you chug the rest of your drink through the straw. 
“Oh girl,” Nami bursts out laughing, “you are drunk.” 
“Huh? Well yeeaaah. That’s what happens when ya drink, ya know?” “Yeah, yeah.” 
Nami looks past you again and nods her head. You had no idea what she was doing. But you didn’t have much time to think about it. 
“Alright, (y/n). Let’s go.” You hear a familiar voice, but your vision was too blurred to notice who it was. “Huh, who are ya?” You lean away from the man and you can hear Nami’s laughter. 
“It’s me. Your boyfriend. I’m taking you back to the ship.” 
You were silent for a bit, squinting your eyes to try to get a better look at this person. “No, you’re not.” 
He sighs, “I don’t have time to deal with this.” 
You were soon lifted up and thrown over his shoulder. Your eyes widen at the sudden movement, and you hold your breath to try to ease the sudden queasiness. 
Zoro on the other hand, was slightly amused by your antics. He wonders how drunk you are to be acting like this. He doesn’t waste any time getting you back to the ship, because he didn’t want you to give him more trouble. 
It was only a couple of minutes before he heard your voice again. 
“Heeeey. What do you think you’re doing?” He can feel a little bit of resistance from you, but it’s nothing he couldn’t handle. “Getting you to bed.” 
“Nooo, you can’t. I have a boyfriend. And he’s gonna kill you for touching me like this.” 
Zoro smirks at your words. You were right, he would definitely kill someone for touching you the way he was right now. 
“I think it’ll be fine. We’re almost there anyway.” 
You just groan at his words, too tired to put up a fight anymore. 
True to his words, you were at the ship shortly. 
As soon as Zoro puts you down on the deck, you grab onto his arms to steady yourself. 
The feeling of his warm arms somehow clears your vision and you are ecstatic to see that it was your boyfriend, Zoro. 
You smile widely at him, “Zoro! Where have you been?” You lean forward to wrap your arms around him. Your head landed on his chest. 
You hear Zoro sigh, “I’ve been-” 
“Wait, Zoro!” You pull back, “did you see that guy? There was a guy earlier. I didn’t like him.” 
Zoro just looks down at you with a smirk, “is that so?” “Yeah! He didn’t listen to me, and just… just picked me up!” 
Zoro observes how your cheeks were flushed pink, your eyes glossed over- clear tell signs that you were drunk. He couldn’t help himself. He brings both of his hands up to your face. Squishing your cheeks together. “He sounds awful.” He agrees with you. 
You giggle at his actions, and place your hands over his. “Totally.” 
Zoro shakes his head at you, “let’s get you to bed now.” 
“Okay!” You excitedly shout and pull away from him. You start to run towards your bedroom, but you stumble and fall to the ground. 
Another sigh leaves Zoro’s lips as he observes you on the ground. “You’re so drunk you can’t even walk.” 
Zoro picks you up again. This time, one arm was under your knees and the other supported your back. 
“No.. I’m just drunk, that I can’t run.” 
Somehow Zoro was able to understand your sentence, “same thing.” 
You hum, relaxing. “Thank you.” You whisper. 
“Eh? What for?” Zoro looks down at you, however, he finds that your eyes are already closed. You had drifted off into dreamland leaving Zoro to take complete care of you. He takes this moment to smile down at you. “You’re lucky I love you.” He whispers, words that are only for your ears and no one else's.
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libraryofgage · 9 months
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Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Two
Part One
Have I already posted something today? Yes, yes I have but also I finally got through my block on this one hfjdks
I'll be working on Addams Family Steddie next but idk when that part might be coming out lol
anyway, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)
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Steve has taken over Eddie's large porcelain bathtub after it was moved to the main room of the captain's cabin. Steve is lounging in it now, a week into being on Eddie's ship, with his tail draped over the edge so he can submerge his head and breathe through his gills. It's infinitely more comfortable, even with the seaweed still wrapped along the length of his tail and reminding him of its presence with every twitch.
He sighs, bubbles rising from his gills in the "I'm beyond bored" pattern that Robin would light up at seeing. But she's not here, so Steve is left to once again turn Eddie's bat ring over in his hands, fingers brushing along the wings.
Eddie had shown him a drawing of an actual bat, and Steve still thinks they're freaks of nature. But he finds the ring itself a little endearing if only because it was Eddie's ring willingly given.
He smiles softly, the gesture only dampened by the sharp jab of worry over his guppies and Robin. They're probably losing their scales with worry themselves, scouring the sea and putting themselves at risk of being seen in their hunt for him. Steve can't even fault them, either; he would do the exact same thing if Robin or any of his guppies had been captured like that. He has done the exact same thing.
Steve sighs again, this time the bubble pattern expressing exhaustion and "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He kind of misses having someone who actually understands what his bubble patterns mean, but he knows it wouldn't be fair to get frustrated with anyone for their inability to gain meaning from bubbles floating toward the surface.
He thinks, maybe, the worst part is being confined to the tub. Sure, it's infinitely better than the fucking bucket from the other ship, but Steve is still getting restless. He's like a guppy that's watching its siblings swim but still doesn't have the tail strength to swim itself. He feels trapped and has way too much energy with nowhere to spend it.
Steve hasn't mentioned this to Eddie, though. He'd been planning to, of course. In fact, he intended to tell Eddie that morning, but then they'd docked at some port city and Eddie had run off with the promise of being back soon. Steve had tried not to feel a little abandoned, left by himself with fucking nothing to do while Eddie prances around on land.
Before he can get too far into this line of thought (he's about three minutes from convincing himself that, really, Eddie shouldn't have left and could probably be taught the basics of bubble patterns as punishment), Eddie practically barrels into the room, vibrating with something Steve only recognizes as excitement when he sees Eddie's grin.
Steve surfaces, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning on the edge of the tub, twitching his tail slightly and exercising incredible control to keep from preening when Eddie's gaze lingers on it. "What happened?" he asks, slipping the bat ring onto his thumb, the only finger it fits.
Eddie drops to his knees, scooting closer to the tub until their noses are almost brushing. "I've got a surprise for you, sweetheart," he says, voice light and eager.
"Where is it?" Steve asks, returning Eddie's smile.
"It's on the deck! Do you trust me?"
For a brief moment, Steve thinks Eddie is about to throw him back into the ocean. Which, like, wouldn't be a bad thing, but Steve would be incredibly offended by the suddenness and wonder if he'd been imagining the draw between them.
But he's sure Eddie wouldn't do something like that without asking first, so he tucks it away as something only slightly possible. Steve nods and pulls back, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub before pushing himself up. He perches on the edge, his balance a little unsteady as he looks at Eddie.
Thankfully, Eddie catches on quickly. He scrambles to his feet and scoops Steve off the edge of the tub, one arm under his tail and the other wrapped around Steve's back. Steve holds onto Eddie's neck, still a little paranoid about being dropped despite Eddie's prior insistence that he wouldn't let anything happen to Steve.
"I think you're gonna love it," Eddie says, his voice soft and his breath warm against Steve's cheek.
Steve gets the urge to ask again, but he holds back as Eddie carries him up to the deck. The sky is covered in clouds, keeping the sun from blinding him when they emerge from the stairs. The deck is concerningly large for such a small crew, and Gareth is currently lounging against the mast, a hat pulled low over his eyes as he sleeps.
He's not very attention-grabbing, though. Not when there's a large...contraption in the middle of the deck. It has four wheels and is shaped like a boat, big enough for Steve to sit comfortably without his tail draping over the edge. There are cranks of some kind on the inside of the boat, and Steve realizes it's filled with water as Eddie carries him closer.
"What is this?" Steve asks, trying not to grimace at the discomfort of his scales beginning to dry out. They're starting to feel tight and itchy, a sensation he really hates, like they're going to split apart at any second.
Eddie grins wider and carefully sets Steve into the water, making sure he doesn't bump the tail or the seaweed wraps. He points at the crank to Steve's left and says, "That will make the back wheels turn. If you crank forward, you'll go forward, and back will make you go backward." He then points to the other crank by Steve's right. "This one controls the front wheels. Forward will make them turn left, and backward will make them turn right. You should be able to move around the deck with this."
Steve stares at the cranks for a moment before glancing up at Eddie. When he receives an encouraging nod in response, he slowly turns the left crank forward, lighting up when the boat does, in fact, move forward a few inches.
He's so overwhelmed with joy that he can't help the notes bubbling in his throat, rising and rising until he can't hold them back anymore. Steve doesn't even think before singing, a wordless tune that conveys just how truly happy he is, one that would leave Robin flabbergasted because she's never heard this tune before.
Because this tune is for courting gifts. Like, really fucking fantastic courting gifts. The kind of gifts that blow everything else clear out of the water and leave a merperson dazed and bubbly and floating without any direction from sheer happiness, bubbles bursting through their gills in joyous patterns.
Steve has never sung this tune before, but he's not at all surprised that Eddie is the person who managed to coax it out of him.
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Eddie knew the boat would be a good idea, but now he's thinking it was the best idea he's ever had and ever will. Even after hours have passed, after Steve has watched the sun drop below the water and asked Eddie to carry him back to the cabin, complaining about his arms being sore from turning cranks, Eddie is still reeling.
He's never heard a more beautiful sound. Eddie keeps replaying the tune Steve sang in his head, frustrated with his inability to recreate it just right and too flustered to ask Steve to sing it again. Because he gets the feeling it was special, something that Steve can't just do at the drop of a hat, but something he did because of Eddie.
Eddie twists his fingers in the sheet covering him, turning his head to glance at the tub where Steve is leaning against the edge. His eyes are closed, but Eddie knows he isn't sleeping yet. Steve submerges his head when he sleeps.
"Hey, Stevie," Eddie whispers, almost like he doesn't want Steve to hear so the comfortable silence continues.
Steve hears him anyway, of course, the flare of fin along the edge of his ear twitching slightly. He tilts his head a bit more, squishing his cheek against his arm, and somewhat lazily says, "Yeah, Eddie?"
Eddie turns onto his side, meeting Steve's gaze. "How'd you become a caretaker?" he asks. It's not the question he actually wants to ask; he wants to ask Steve to sing again, to let him drift to sleep to beautiful notes and lingering melodies.
He watches as Steve tenses slightly before forcing himself to relax. He takes a deep breath, his gills fluttering slightly before slowly exhaling. "A while ago, my pod had an...altercation with a pod from the southern seas. They kidnapped one of the guppies, Will, and the other guppies decided to rescue him. They snuck off one night and I followed them when I discovered what happened and..."
Steve trails off, frowning as he tilts his head to look at the small window, staring at the moon through the glass. "Well, long story short, there were lots of fights, our pod lost its previous caretaker, and we gained a new guppy the southern pod had captured. After everything, I couldn't let the guppies out of my sight, and they kept coming to me and Robin whenever they had problems. So, eventually, I just convinced Robin to be my partner and raise the guppies."
There's a lot going unsaid in that explanation, but Eddie knows better than to pry right now. Steve will tell him when he wants, and if he never wants to, that's fine, too. Eddie won't fault him for that. "Did you have a job before that?" he asks.
Steve hums softly, still beautiful and soft, but not at all the melody Eddie really wants to hear. "I used to scout for the pod," he says, "I would swim ahead and make sure an area was safe or find spots to rest when the pod traveled. When we stopped for long periods, I'd help gather food for the pod."
"You like caring for the guppies more," Eddie says, and it's not at all a question.
"Yeah," Steve replies, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "The guppies are great."
"Tell me about them."
"Well, first is Dustin. He's a little sea urchin, always talking back and getting into trouble, but he's sweet. Will is usually pretty quiet, but he's got a great imagination. Mike always hangs around Will, and he's kind of a squid, but he's going through an awkward growth phase. Lucas is the most active of them, and he likes to shadow the scouters when he can. Erica is his little sister, and she doesn't let the others get away with anything. Max is daring and brash, she tends to dive head-first into stuff, but she's also really protective. El is quiet like Will, but she's really smart and really caring. They're such a handful. Robin and I never have a dull day."
His voice is trailing off toward the end, and Eddie knows he's just moments from falling asleep. "I'd like to meet them someday," Eddie says, his voice softer than before, the words spoken more to himself than Steve.
Of course, that doesn't stop Steve from hearing him anyway. He hums again, this one quieter, and groggily mumbles, "Of course you will, Eddie. That's part of the courting."
And then, like he hasn't essentially rocked Eddie's entire world, Steve slips down in the tub. He submerges his head in the water, and Eddie can hear the quiet murmur of bubbles rising to the surface and popping as Steve breathes.
Eddie stays frozen for a few minutes, staring at the tub, and suddenly wondering if, maybe, somebody somewhere happened to write a merperson courtship manual.
Tag List (there's still room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)
@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7
@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense
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writingoddess1125 · 7 months
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Young Love pt. 1
This was a request, I hope this is to your liking! I tried 🙃
Young!Mihawk x Young!FemReader ☆18-19
Fluff - Romance - Spicy
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If you enjoy my work please support my Ko-Fi
He needed to be there.. He had to be. Mihawk wasn't sure why his Captian had turned himself in- It just didn't make sense however he was not going to question it. He had heard the execution was in a few days and he needed to get to Loguetown in order to make it.
However being without a crew or access to a ship made it harder, having to hitch rides on other ships and walk across islands in order to make his destination.
He was just 2 islands away from Loguetown, his feet sore and exhaustion heavy on his bones. Stopping by a trail he leaned against some trees, trying to determine if he should just rest against the trees- however the sound of noises caught his ear. He didn't know what it was but it pulled his attention and he followed it-
Stepping off the trail fully he walked to a small clearing were he saw a young women, His age he assumed practicing with a sword.
Mihawk stood there as he watched you closely. You're form was utterly beautiful and he couldn't help but admire it-
The confidence you showed as you did slow swings of the sword to practice form- It was almost like a intimate dance with one's self, something he shouldn't have the privilege of watching.
He didn't notice he had take a step forward, a twig snapping under his foot and you snapped your head towards him. Raising a brow at him as he looked like a doe.. Noting the blade on his back and how he clearly been watching you.
"Well that's not creepy at all" You call out to him, The teen giving you a deadpan look.
"Apoligies, I was admiring your form" He admitted as he stepped forward into the clearing. You noting the sword on his back-
"Is that for show or can you actually use it?" You jab, watching his face twinge in slight annoyance.
"Of course I am- Wish for me to show you?" He questioned as he pulled the sword from his back, Shrugging at him and holding your blade to him.
"Sounds fun, but dont worry~ I don't plan on killing you, Too cute for that" You say with a wink before setting your stance. Mihawk suppressing the urge to roll his eyes-
The duel began with a clash of steel as their cutlasses met in a resounding clash, sparks flying. You starting with a lung forward with a flurry of rapid strikes, aiming for the males midsection. Mihawk being quick to dodge parried with great strength knocking the attacker off balance.
Only lasting a second you were faster on your feet and tested some new footwork- Dashing to the side and managing to smack Mihawk's behind with the back of your blade. A surprised noise leaving the dark haired teen as he sent a chilling glare and quickly swiped at you which you blocked.
The cutlasses clashed in a series of fierce exchanges, as both of you demonstrated your strength and skills in this dangerous art form. In the middle of the dangerous set of swings Mihawk caught eye of an opening to your side and aimed for it quickly- Your eyes widening as you barely managed to side step and bringing yourself close to him in order to avoid a cut, Him closing the space to trap you in an dangerous embrace.
A flutter in his chest as he watched you pull the cross from around your neck and hold a small blade to his throat in counter of this.
A tie..
A few seconds pass of silence and Mihawk can't help but crack a smile at this-
"You're good" He said, You lowering your blades and chuckling at this he doing the same thing.
"Not too bad yourself- Whats your name stranger?" You say with a grin, holding out a hand to shake.
"Mihawk.. Dracule Mihawk" He was quick to shake your hand.
"(Y/N)- Nice to meet ya" You give a cheeky smile and release his hand.
"So what brings you to Dower Town?" You question, curious why he was in such a dump anyway- He shrugged "Passing through" That was enough of an answer for you. It wasn't like you were doing anything different.
The two of you began to chat back and forth, talking about different sword techniques and complimenting each other.
You invited Mihawk to share a drink with you down at the local tavern- he happily agreed. Traveling to the towns local tavern together you guys enter quickly.
Mihawk and you sat down, Grinning at each other as you both continued the talk. The conversation along the way getting more flirtatious- It took only 3 drinks from both of you to be opening flirting.
"So what do you like?~" You say with a smile, finishing another beer.
His lips curled into a sly grin. "Well, for starters, a good duel under the moonlight and a glass of wine to celebrate afterward."
You raised an eyebrow, pretending to ponder his words. "A duel, you say? I hope you're not challenging me to another swordfight right here."
Mihawk chuckled "Not just yet. I'm more interested in a different kind of duel right now."
Your heart quickened as his gaze locked onto yours, his fingers lightly tracing the rim of his glass. "And what kind of duel would that be?"
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "The kind where we see who can leave the other more enchanted by the end of the night."
A playful grin spread across your face. "You're on, Dracule Mihawk."Maybe it was teenage hormones or the alcohol in both your systems both you both were far to willing for each other.
The next morning Mihawk sat up, Still groggy from the alcohol in his system but still he saw you had gone from the bed already. Looking around surprised as he got up quickly and dressed himself- Also noting his coin purse seemed to be magically missing as well.
A stumbled walk to the closest inn you and Mihawk are already locked in a passionate kiss- You could feel his tongue on your lips, then slowly parting them. Kissing him back, you both moaned. His back hitting the door of the hotel room as you both scrambled inside- Mihawk desperately starting to take off your shirt pulling it over your head and tossed it to the other side of the rented room.
He paused for a second, you finally noticing the redness on his cheeks. You no better as you both clearly lacked experience- The world seemed to slow down, you and Mihawk drifting to the dinky bed of the inn stripping yourself of clothes fully this time. No words needing to be exchanged as something warmer filled the room then just blind passion-
The two of you kissing again, you feeling his hands touch your body for the first time. Running through your hair, down your neck, and across your naked chest drawing a moan from you.
He was so gentle with you. His touch almost reverential as if he was worshipping you. Your own hands running through his hair, pulling him closer to you feeling his hard cock pressing against your naked leg.
A few more deep kisses followed as Mihawk guided himself to you. Your eyes closed and mouth open in pleasure as you felt his cock head touch your lips, pushing into you as you arched your back feeling his hips push against your own filling you to the utter brim.
The alcohol easing any discomfort that may have befell you, Mihawk hissing softly as he bottomed out inside you. Leaving over you flushed and panting already, you couldnt help but blush at this.
After a few moments he began to move, gently thrusting into you as whimpered moans escaped your parted lips, Your legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer.
Grunts leaving Mihawk as he continued to thrust into you, wrapping his arm around you to pull you close as his free hand gripped the sheets next to your head.
You didn't know how long you and Mihawk were entangled with each other. However the night seemed endless- filled with reckless passion and what you assumed was false love. Eventually exhaustion taking you both into a deep sleep.
Barely buttoning his shirt he stepped out of the room to see you fixing the sword to your hip, glancing back at him with a smirk.
Silence falling over the both of you as he cracked a amused grin. Never been on the end of being left from a one night stand.
"Will I ever see you again?" He questioned, you smiled at him and reached from around your neck to pull the cross from around your neck and tossed it to him. Mihawk catching it quickly and stared at it for a moment before meeting your gaze once more.
"When you're the better then me, we will meet again" You say with a smile, Winking at him as you start to walk away. Mihawk smiling at this as he watched you.
"So I guess this means you'll see me soon" He called back to you.
You laugh at this, continuing to walk away from him and wave.
"I hope so!"
687 notes · View notes
partycatty · 3 months
Note
so i made a post about revenant johnny and i’m totally aware you saw it so what about a smut fic with revenant johnny??
i’m not entirely sure how we’d get to that part and i’d like to think we aren’t a revenant. im not entirely sure what the plot would be but i really just need to get my back blown out by revenant johnny
love ya 💙💙
EAYRBAUHRJAJFLAMTLMSMF
revenant!older!johnny cage > join me
revenant johnny meets you after his turning. the carnal desire never vanished.
warnings: kinda angsty, not explicitly consented to, you get SLAMMED TO POUND TOWN AND BACK. NETHERREALM AND BACK. OUTWORLD AND B— oh also lore adjustment to mk9 and mk11 :3
[ masterlist ]
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you didn't think recent events could get any weirder, truly. just five years prior you lost the love of your life to a corrupted sindel, and with the knowledge that his cursed corpse sauntered beside a sorcerer such as quan chi, you honestly felt like coming face to face with a younger version of yourself was the most normal thing to occur. your job as a leader of the special forces was to capture and eliminate all threats to earthrealm, including but not limited to your former husband.
now under the command of a previous timeline's raiden among others, you had built enough of an army to counterattack what you lovingly called the zombified versions of your once-friends, liu kang and kitana. kronika was a force beyond your understanding but you knew that losing all you'd come to build would be a loss greater than... well, no. it was everything you'd lose.
at the bow of kharon's ship, you stood with a loaded rifle alongside a band of people you'd grown to admire; jax, jacqui, cassie, raiden, liu kang, kitana, kung lao, fujin, nightwolf, and of course a younger version of johnny. he nudges your side, aiming his own rifle at the sky with a hand on his hip.
"i hope we don't die out there, i'd love to tap that someday," he coos into your direction, perhaps louder than intended and earning horrified looks from everyone - including your fatherless daughter. you stomp on johnny's foot. perhaps you would have fallen for his charms in the past, but dear god was he more punchable than ever in that moment. even still, you miss his quips and jabs. what you wouldn't give to see the color return to his cracked, hellish skin.
"it is an honor to fight alongside most of you," you call out, facing forward as your subtle dig at younger johnny makes him frown. "raiden says it better. may the elder gods protect us."
it's not long before the large boat scrapes against the shore of the island, and your entire army charges into battle. guns, swords, and fangs spill so much blood, you could smell more iron than when you were riding down the crimson sea. your thoughts are cut short when a path opens, and you shoot a glance to your comrades.
"i see an opening!" you shout, pointing. "i'm going in!" a chorus of encouragements and cheers fill your ears atop the war cries, and the one that stands out most is cassie. your daughter's voice raises, slipping into grief mid-battle.
"if you find dad," she cries, praying to the gods that she won't lose both parents. "tell him i love him!" the knowledge that this battle will end in only one of you making it out alive terrifies her beyond belief but she does all she can to keep a strong face and salute you as you disappear in the crowd. cassie knows that a revenant version of johnny wouldn't fully understand, wouldn't fully accept her love, but she couldn't die or have him die without expressing it one last time.
you weave, shoot and slash through the crowd and end up in a castle-like structure. perhaps if you were to rise to the top you could use the position as surveillance or sniping. you could possibly even find a weak point. the building is just distant enough for the war to hardly reach the inside. your breathing and the sound of boots hitting stone are all you could focus on as you turn a corner.
blood rushes to your ears and you could feel your vision become glassy at the sight of the figure at the end of the hallway. even after all this time, you knew that shape. johnny stood in the dead center of the long hall, arms crossed and waiting like he predicted your arrival. maybe he did.
"no, nonono," you pant, leaning against the wall as your brows furrow. "not you. not now." the grief you thought you conquered washes over you.
"well i'll be damned," johnny smirks, pulling his sunglasses from his face and tucking them into his shirt. "long time no see, sugar." he takes long strides to you and your legs feel embarrassingly weak when you slide to the ground, gun clattering to the stone surface alongside you.
"anyone but you—" you're muttering under your breath, trying to ground your spiraling thoughts. "please."
johnny's in front of you now, kneeling down to meet your gaze. his skin is paled and crackling with a hellish glow, and his eyes are a heinous reddish shade. the outfit he wore was similar in style to his usual, but darker in palette and slightly edgier. in any other context, it was a good look.
"you look just as good as the day i left you," he grins, dismissing your grief and turmoil for flirtation. you want to fight back so bad, to shove him away and put an end to this but dammit it was the first time you'd heard that voice, that damn voice.
"why did you leave me? cassie?" you're involuntarily sobbing now, full of conflict. "why are you doing this?"
"you're the one causing this entire problem," johnny's defensive, jabbing a finger to your chest. "kronika's new era can save us. neither of us join the military. can you imagine it? white picket fence, two dogs and a daughter, home cooked meals every night and none of this bullshit—!" johnny's arm extends out to a nearby window, giving you both a view of the demon-human-demigod war on time. "—baby. join me. we could have everything we've ever dreamed of." his tone isn't as desperate and loving as it should be. it sounded... pushy. frustrated that you're disobeying what he wants.
"no," you choke out, tears flowing freely now. "you're being played a fool, johnny." he doesn't like your answer, and instead wraps a large hand around your small neck. he slides you back up the wall and spins you, your front now pressed up against a wall.
"you know what i'd miss more than your stubbornness?" he growls into your ear. his hand pressing hold on the back of your head is brewing a headache that quickly fizzles away when his other hand tugs your hips toward his front. you swallow, afraid to reply. "this sweet ass."
his cold, dead hand plays with the fat of your ass which spills a growl from his lips. instinctively rutting into you makes you spill an involuntary whimper out, craving his touch after so long.
"always a pain in my ass," johnny groans, slapping a cheek and watching it bounce. "i've gone years without it, i was practically losing my damn mind."
"johnny—" you barely breathe out. you're not entirely sure what you were going to say anyway. the warmth of his hardness shocks you as it slides up and down your clothed ass.
"mm?" he hums, transfixed on the way your behind fits his cock nicely. it was clear he wasn't fully listening and instead relishing in your presence once again.
as if he could read your thoughts, johnny chuckles to himself and kicks the rifle away, only stopping his humping momentarily to remove your defenses. your legs slightly part to try and catch the gun with your foot, accidentally giving him more access to your embarrassingly needy cunt.
"yeah, fuckin' speechless," he growls, hissing at the sight of your soaked bottoms. "bet you missed my cock, yeah?"
you could hardly even whimper from the onslaught of emotion. johnny's hand snakes to the front of your neck, forcibly arching your back as he pulls to lean into your ear.
"join me," he demands coldly.
"no."
johnny's hand dips under your waistband.
"join me," he demands again, tone getting progressively more animalistic as he tugs downward.
"no."
your pants are practically torn off as he grabs a fistful and tugs them to your knees with his mind-numbing strength. you weren't sure if he ripped your panties or tugged them off too. you hear something unbuckle on his end, and his hot, wet tip tickles your entrance.
"last chance." even though his hand returned to shove you into the stone wall, you could hear his cocky grin.
"go fuck yourself," you spit, realizing your grave choice of wording.
"i'll do you one better." he slams his entire cock inside of you, and it immediately settles into your walls like it was made to bury itself there for all of eternity. even still, going without dick that good leaves your pussy burning and on the verge of crying for other reasons.
he bottoms out quick, leaning back to admire how nicely he settles inside of you.
"well fuck, look at that," he says with genuine amusement in his tone. "you look so pretty stretched out on me like this, it's a sight for sore eyes."
your fingers claw at the stone, eyes rolling back as you take his full length without verbal complaint. as you pathetically attempt to protest, all you can sputter out are disconnected syllables. johnny's thrusts start off slow but he snaps into you as he reaches the base inches.
"all this whining but you're fuckin' soaked," he laughs, snapping into you harshly to hear you cry out. "you're a horrible liar, you know. you wanna join me, i can f — haah —" his own cocky nonsense is cut short when you clench around him. he lurches forward in shock, moving both hands to your hips to deepen his grip. "i can feel how tight you are for me."
in little to no time, johnny's cock is pounding into you at a breakneck pace, a horrid slapping sound echoing off of the castle walls as they mix with your obscene moans and his deep grunts. you're sure he's piling more unholy words into you but they feel so far away when he's plowing into you like a dying man — well.
his cracked, grey fingers grope you shamelessly, pinching your nipple through your uniform or rubbing rapid circles into your clit. the pleasure is too much too quickly and you feel a warmth pooling in your stomach as your juices coat his shaft.
a gasp escapes your lips with each thrust, your husband quite literally knocking the wind out of you each time he slams into you.
"i missed you," he purrs out, and just like that all hesitation and guilt you had flew away as his words made you cum hard. a glimpse of his humanity poured through at your orgasm, and while it was flattering, you had bigger problems to worry about then, including just how hard you came.
each wave of pleasure was met with an extra thrust for good measure, a pulse shooting to your clit that makes your knees buckle. what you quickly realize however is that your zombie husband isn't done with your body quite yet.
"oh, no no no," he tuts, thrusts getting wilder and filling you to the point of tears. "you're done when i'm done. this is what you get."
your sensitive walls continued to shamefully take every inch he forced into you, and you could writhe and twitch as a drop of drool spills from your lip. this revenant was fucking you stupid, using your body for all it was worth in the moment. you hated yourself for falling for his undead charm all over again. your vision was going black and starry before another orgasm rode up on you again, johnny's back shots doing nothing to soothe the overstimulation that was racking your body. it's not long before he's whining too, which turns into his signature whimpering when he fucks into you harshly, spewing his cum inside of you like he owns you. you cum with him this time, flooding with your own juice mixed with his cum that now coated your walls nicely.
tears still burned in your eyes, and so did your pussy from the unexpected stretch. johnny panted above you, face turned up at the ceiling as he tries to compose himself.
"holy..." he pants, wiping the sweat from his face with his arm. he wraps an arm around you and slaps at your bare pussy, making you yelp and jump back against his dick that's still buried inside. you swallow thickly and nod, too hazy to make sense of it all.
"i..." what the hell were you going to say? what is there to say after all of this? you're dumbfounded, fucked silly but torn apart by grief. as you crane your neck to look at johnny, you find that he's already looking at you with a coy expression. like he robbed you of something. tore your very being apart piece by piece and was proud.
"hope you're not mad at me for the whole dying thing, by the way."
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deepouterspacecandy · 3 months
Text
The Wolf and the Fox
I’m feeling rather sentimental lately, so I just wanted to pop in here real quick and say that kindness matters. Kindness for yourself, and for others. If your art, whether that be writing or something else entirely, helps you navigate this world—it matters, too. I hope you feel safe today, online, and in real life. This piece and all my work, really, is 18+ only. This one isn’t hot and heavy by any means, but there’s some violence and sexual themes sprinkled about. If you enjoy it, maybe I’ll chip away at another chapter. Otherwise, thank you so much for spending some of your precious time with my words and my mushy heart. Be well.
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“This rivalry—whatever it is—ends now,” Isaac barks, pinning you both with a vicious scowl.
Abby crosses her stubborn arms across her chest, a snarl curled on her smug lips. You’re struggling to control the urge to roll your eyes with such intensity that they detach from your skull and land on the floor.
“Not a word from either of you?” Isaac says as his glaring frustration builds. He points irritably at the chairs across from his desk. “Sit down. Now.”
“But I have training in twenty minutes,” Abby explains, her meek manner only apparent when she is around the boss.
“I don’t give a damn—sit!”
Isaac raises his voice, making her flinch, and a sense of gratification fills you. It quickly dissipates when he directs it towards you.
“Did I stutter?” he shouts, kicking at the legs of your chair for emphasis.
As Abby turns her head, a smirk spreads across her face, igniting a fiery determination within you to bring her haughtiness crashing down by any means necessary.
“If it weren’t for him, I’d drop your ass right here,” you mumble.
She opens her mouth to retort, Isaac’s hands slamming down on the desk, causing both of you to jump.
“Consider yourselves lucky I haven’t tossed you both in the stockades. I need you to get your act together before the next raid. Otherwise, I would not hesitate. You embarrass me.”
Abby pinches the bridge of her nose, blowing out a heavy breath.
“Well, I’d hate to be the reason she ships off in a pissy mood,” you say, throwing your hands up in mock surrender. “Now you only have about a hundred other people to accost before she leaves.”
“Fuck you,” Abby says.
“Enough!”
Isaac leans back in his worn leather chair, and the metallic creak breaks the sudden silence of the room. The weight of his authority is suffocating, leaving your mouth dry, while Abby’s hands twitch anxiously beside you.
His finger jabs in her direction first.
“I expect more from you,” he says. “This ends here. Do you understand me, Abigail? I will not tolerate this petty behaviour.”
The verbal lashing doesn’t bring you any delight; instead, it serves as a painful reminder of her superiority over you and the respect the WLF has for her. Respect you’d happily offer if she didn’t treat you like a floating piece of swamp trash.
“You,” he says, his fury focused solely on your shrinking form. “I had high hopes for you. I’m now questioning my judgement and that does not please me. Are you trying to make me look like a fool?”
“No, sir.”
“Come again?”
“No, sir,” you say with conviction, dipping your chin in submission. “It won’t happen again.”
“Delightful,” he growls, his hands steepled in front of him. Sarcasm oozes out of his mouth like venom. “Tomorrow presents the perfect opportunity for you to address your troubles, as I’ve scheduled you both to ship out.”
Abby keeps quiet, but her head drops back with melodramatic flair. Your eyes involuntarily roll in response, unable to contain your annoyance this time. Isaac doesn’t ignore the barbs before him.
“With bells on, do I make myself clear?” he orders.
He gestures for you to leave the room, instructing Abby to stay behind for a mission briefing.
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In the gym, you can feel the tension and stress melt away as you push yourself to your physical limits. Amidst the clanging of iron plates and the rhythmic flow of blood in your muscles, your restless mind finally finds peace.
In an act of defiance, you increase the weight on the barbell, determined to spite Abby even if she isn’t there to see it. With the image of her smug face behind your eyelids, you push yourself through six strong reps, feeling your arms shake on the seventh.
Vascular hands appear above you, hovering just below the bar.
“Spot someone else,” you huff, adjusting your legs and arching your back.
“Seven is good. Eight is better,” Abby says, standing her ground. “Again.”
As the vibration in your arms intensifies, your frustration towards her swells.
“Use it,” she advises, leaning in closer for better guidance. “Let that anger drive you. Again.”
You’re considering quitting and giving her a piece of your mind. You picture yourself ripping into her and leaving without a second glance. Her body remains rooted in place, an unspoken challenge for you to make a move.
It’s the heaviest load you’ve ever pushed, and you can feel every ounce of weight straining your muscles. A guttural whimper escapes you as you force the weight up. Only at the end of your final rep does Abby touch the bar, leaving you to swipe the sweat from your forehead.
“Not bad,” she says.
You hoist yourself up and off the bench, returning the dumbbells you previously worked. It’s late, and the gym is empty save for the gargantuan pain in your ass following you around like a sullen shadow.
“You’re just going to ignore me now?” she asks, leaning flippantly against the squat rack.
“That was the plan, yeah,” you mumble, attempting to restore order to the chaotic pile of free weights, likely abandoned by a soldier with an inflated sense of self.
“Your plan is total crap, but okay.”
Trying to maintain your composure, you shake your head at her arrogance, staying focused on the task at hand.
“Look, we should try to get along,” Abby says. “I don’t want this affecting what goes down out there. People depend on us.”
“Okay, Isaac,” you say, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder with a scoff. “I’ve wasted enough time with this. See you at zero six hundred.”
Her voice echoes behind you as you push through the gym doors and into the dim, vacant hallway.
“Don’t be late!”
If your arms weren’t so sore, you might consider the idea of flipping her off through the window.
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The rift between the two of you didn’t happen overnight. It resulted from a multitude of minor incidents and one miscommunication that was blown way out of proportion. As Abby trudges ahead of you on foot, swearing up a storm under her breath, you’re reminded of this.
“You’re being too loud,” you say, breaking into a slow jog, trying to catch up with her massive steps.
Even as you approach a full sprint, your footsteps are blades of grass in the wind compared to hers. As she spins on her heel to glare at you, you can’t help but feel a pang of embarrassment at how out of breath you are, desperately trying to keep up with her.
“Cardio wouldn’t kill you,” Abby says, waving a dismissive hand in the air before striding off. “I might, though.”
You contemplate staying put, observing how far she goes before she finally notices your absence. It’s likely that she’d travel two states over before she bothered to look back.
“Duly noted. Since we’re on the topic of what wouldn’t kill us, how about you practice walking like an adult human?” you quip. “Instead of a full-grown safari animal. Are you trying to get us assassinated?”
“Just you,” she says.
You’d love nothing more than to fling a sticky ball of mud at the back of her head and leave her sputtering. Unfortunately, you are miles from home and stranded without the vehicle you left the stadium in.
“Screw this,” you exclaim, raising your hands in annoyance before veering off from her direction and choosing to follow your own path.
“Where the hell are you going?”
“Away from you.”
It’s incredibly reckless and potentially life-threatening, but common sense is the last thing on your mind. Before the WLF came along, you had already endured years of living outside the safety of the city walls. Currently, Abby’s actions are hindering concentration, and you’d rather deal with Isaac’s rage than spend another hour bickering with his golden soldier.
“You’re going the wrong way!” she shouts, her voice reverberating off the crumbling apartments.
Sudden, gurgled screams in the distance paralyze you. The racket seems to come from everywhere and nowhere at once, growing louder with each passing moment, turning your skin to ice.
“Oh, fuck!”
Chaos erupts as a group of decomposing Runners break through the glass doors of the building next to you, hell bent on tearing you apart. The sheer intensity of their shrieks overwhelm your senses as you fumble for your gun.
When Abby clutches your arm, it jolts you back to the present moment.
“Watch my six!”
With a swift yank, she hurls you behind her, rapid gunfire ringing out and adding to the deafening commotion all around you. As you empty your clip, the acrid smell of gun smoke fills the air. A runner emerges, and the lethal tip of your knife slides into his skull, dropping him like a sack of bricks. Your wrists ache as you slash your knife across any infected that break Abby’s barrier until you’re stunned by a pustular crawler who drags you to the ground.
Just as you think it’s all over for you; Abby fearlessly straddles the festering monster and snaps its neck.
With ease, she throws the corpse aside and pulls you up. Your wobbly knees collapse beneath you, expeditiously forged by gelatin and nothing more. Disorientation prevents you from formulating any brilliant escape plan.
You’re not sure how the two of you ended up barricaded inside an eighth-floor condo, but somehow you made the trek unscathed.
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Spirals of peeling paint adorn the large, cracked walls, and you wonder how long the inhabitants survived when the pandemic struck. Despite the layer of mold and dust that coats every piece of overturned furniture, the scent of old leather wafts from the neatly aligned suitcases by the door.
You try to investigate who might’ve called this place home, but the clues are bleak. Empty picture frames rest on the fireplace mantel, with broken glass scattered about like grains of sand on a long-forgotten beach.
Abby disappears down the hall as you lose yourself in the moth-bitten curtains fluttering hauntingly against several fractures in the towering panoramic windows. It’s so quiet in this suite that you doubt anything is still lingering, even in the darkest shadows.
“Let me take a look at that,” Abby says as she flips over the loveseat, laying her jacket over its musty cushions. “Cop-a-squat.”
As you continue to stare at her, she fidgets, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. She clears her throat, gesturing at your ankle.
“You’re limping. Let me see.”
The adrenaline was pumping so hard during the fight that you didn’t even notice that you had rolled it at some point.
“It’s fine,” you dismiss. “We should check for scratches first.”
The snail’s pace you’ve adopted reflects your reluctance and Abby blows out a harsh breath.
“I’m clean, and that can wait—you don’t want that to swell up,” she says. “Come here.”
“Maybe I’ll turn when you’re busy playing doctor. Then what?”
You’re only half joking, but the way her mouth quirks up into a soft smile eases your mind. You can count on one hand how many of those you’ve witnessed on her. It’s a fleeting thought that you swallow down with the lump in your throat, but Abby is exceptionally pretty.
Yeah, you definitely caught Cordyceps.
“I decide who bites me and when,” she says, patting the sofa to hurry you along.
You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks as her comment sinks in. Her inquisitive gaze dissects your response, and her modest smile transforms into a full-bodied grin.
“That was too easy,” she teases. “An unsullied girl, huh?”
Plunking down in front of her, you watch as she kneels to inspect your injury with a light hand. A dull throb blooms along your foot as she presses and maneuvers it. You do your best to suppress any wincing, but the moment she rotates the joint, pain shoots up your calf.
She pulls a medical kit from her backpack and makes quick work of treating your ankle.
“You are way off track,” you say, trying to scrape your dignity off the stale carpet. “Your train is taking a dirt road—that’s how off track you are.”
“Got it,” she smirks, wrapping the tensor bandage snug.
“And who says unsullied? A gravedigger from the fifteen hundreds—Jesus,” you say. “I didn’t realize you were a whole two centuries old.”
When she looks up at you through her lashes and giggles, the sound is more infectious than spores. You chomp on your lower lip to keep from smiling, but your cheeks sting from suppression.
“I read a lot,” she says with a shrug. “Is that such a bad thing?”
Abby’s rugged hands linger as she rests your foot casually on her lap. The weight of her touch is more comforting than you’re willing to admit.
“I’m personally more concerned about your pale complexion and aversion to sunlight,” you say, wiggling your toes to keep the pins and needles at bay. “Does Owen know you’re a vampire?”
She rakes her teeth over her bottom lip.
“Is this where you finally confess you have the hots for him?” she asks. “You’re off the hook now that he’s no longer my problem.”
It’s as if the God of thunder himself dropped you in an ice bath. As soon as Abby mentions the flat-out conspiracy theory, it extinguishes the glee building between your ribs, leaving you deflated.
“I never had feelings for him,” you say, pulling your foot from her grasp.
“That’s not what he said.”
“Yeah, well, your boyfriend is a fucking jerk and a liar. But that’s obviously no surprise to you, given how everything shook out with Mel.”
As Abby’s heavy gulp echoes through the hollow room, you stand up just in time to avoid registering the pained look on her face. Although you may not be her biggest fan, it never brings you joy to see someone sad, never mind take part in it.
You attempt to distance yourself from the resurfacing memory of Manny’s party. The night Owen’s unrequited alcohol-infused advances made a mess of everything. Until that deceitful night, he had been a loyal friend to you, and it still unsettles you to remember the needless drama his cowardice brought about.
“His story checked out.”
“Oh, did it?” you chuckle humourlessly. “Supreme investigative journalism went on right under my nose, and I had no idea!”
“Why can’t you just admit it? It doesn’t matter anymore.”
“You know what, Abby? You’re dead wrong. But I don’t have to explain shit to you. I’m going to sleep.”  
With a purposeful shake, you rid her jacket of any dust before throwing it back to her. Driven by your determination to rise with the sun and get the long, miserable journey home over with, you stagger down the hall into the nearest bedroom.
Why did the damn Humvee have to malfunction and leave you deserted today of all days? If you didn’t get your butt handed to you on a silver platter, you would blame Isaac.
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You are roused from sleep by a faint, repetitive thudding noise coming from somewhere inside the apartment. You blink against fatigue, the sky momentarily captivating you with its mesmerizing gradient of rich purple and blue. The shabby blinds filter the light, creating a lattice-like pattern of warm orange strokes on the walls.
It dawns on you that this dwelling must have been opulent in a previous time.
You stretch your weary muscles and track the sound until the subtle drumming leads you to the balcony. As the first light of dawn breaks, you find Abby poring over a tattered book, her heels absentmindedly knocking against the broken balcony ledge. Her long hair is golden and untamed, cascading down her bare back in wild ropes.
Your voice cracks from disuse as you mumble, “That’s one way to flag our team down.”
Engrossed in her book, she fumbles around for her damp shirt, the fabric slung over a nearby chair. Your etiquette kicks in and you hand it to her, averting your eyes.
“There’s laundry detergent on the counter,” she explains, dog earing her page to in favour of dressing herself. “It’s ancient but it smells better than I did, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Would you come inside already? That looks like it’s about to collapse. Aren’t you afraid of heights?” you ask.
Backward, she crab-walks through the sliding glass doors, her movements awkward and unsteady. As she hops up, the aroma of freshly fallen rain clings to her clothes.
“It’s not so bad when I’m distracted,” she says, thumbing at the abandoned novel. “How did you know?”
“Heard it through the grapevine,” you lie, gnawing at the corner of your chapped lip.
Following your team’s impressive escape through a high-rise complex, Isaac was the one who brought it to your attention. He thought that your fearless leadership would blend seamlessly with her fierce leadership, creating a formidable force. Abby could be the anchor that helped you find strength in your most terrifying moments, while you could be the guiding light that helped her find courage in hers.
Despite its initial promise, Isaac’s lack of realism is well-known.
“What are you afraid of?” she asks.
In this world, there is an abundance of things, enough to fill a scroll ten miles wide.
“People, mostly.”
She purses her lips, a frown pulling her feathered brows together.
“I guess I didn’t help much with that.”
“Yeah well, you don’t owe me anything.”
Her expression contorts as if she’s itching to argue against that statement. You divert her attention from the process by prioritizing the task ahead.
“We should go,” you say. “While it’s still quiet out there.”
She nods, pitching the book into a prehistoric pile of ashes in the fireplace.
It elicits a flabbergasted squeak from you, and she’s beguiled.
“What?” Abby chuckles.
“Now you won’t know how it ends,” you say.
“Nah, I’ve read this ending a million times,” she says, staring after the discarded book. “It’s nothing new.”
You would retrieve it for her if it didn’t threaten to leave your hands and all your gear covered in soot. Maybe her assumption is flawed.
“You’re just a rainbow of positivity in the morning,” you razz, and she snorts at your proclamation. “No, really. I’m floating on air over here.”
“You’re funny,” she says, and the sincerity of her tone takes you by surprise. “I didn’t let those monsters turn you into a zombie. That’s got to count for something, right?”
You suppose it does.
She takes extra care not to appear intrusive as she reaches over to lift the backpack from your shoulder.
“I’ve got it,” she says. “I’ll carry the heavy stuff today.”
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As you settle back into the FOB, Isaac has you on light duty work assignments. It has helped you heal over the past four weeks, and as you’re easing back into your gym routines, you’re feeling strong. You find yourself in uncharted territory though, as this is the longest you’ve gone without joining a supply run—but lending a hand to the cooks in the kitchen is surprisingly fulfilling.
Avoiding Abby in the past has made it easy to continue to do so, even unintentionally. The only connection you’ve had with her since returning to base was through the stack of blueberry pancakes you whipped up for her team, which ultimately got passed on to her by someone else.
Since the mention of her name no longer brings you emotional pain, you’re satisfied with where things are. That is until Abby unabashedly leans over the cafeteria counter and whistles at you, attempting to grab your attention from across the kitchen.  
“Hi pancake girl,” she smirks.
“Pancake girl?” you groan, drying your hands on your apron. “I’m officially banning you from assigning nicknames. I’m still recovering from unsullied.”
Abby’s mischievous expression brightens up the poorly lit mess hall before she quickly commits to a truly theatrical act of sulking—bottom lip jutted out like a little kid.
“Oh man, I hate being punished—for how long?” she pouts.
The line of people behind her seems to multiply, and you try your hardest to juggle multiple tasks, but it becomes incredibly difficult with her playful gaze fixed on you.
“The rest of your natural born life feels appropriate,” you say, sliding a jug of juice across the counter for a group of soldiers. “Or at least until you come up with something better.”
“I can work with that,” Abby says, shuffling aside to make space for the growing queue of hungry civilians. “Your pancakes were a hit, though. My squad won’t shut up about them—and I love blueberries even though they stain the shit out of my hands.”  
Amidst the busy kitchen rush, a fellow crew member steps in to lend a hand, giving you a chance to take a breather. You chug a glass of water before giving Abby your full attention.
“I think it’s time we teach you about some ground-breaking eating tools.”
“Is that right?” she grins.
“Definitely,” you say, grabbing a roll of cutlery from the cart behind you. “For example, this here is a fork and knife combo. Rather brilliant in preventing blueberry stains instead of eating your pancakes like a toddler.”
Abby’s chin dips as she snickers, her spirited mood doing a fantastic job of lifting yours.
“What about that spoon thingy—where does that fit in?” she asks.
“Well, when you bless me with another horrid nickname, I can use this tiny shovel to dig through the floor and escape.”
The sound of Abby’s laughter is magnetic, drawing in everyone around her. She effortlessly embodies effective leadership, and it’s something about her you respect.
“It’s not usually this easy to make me laugh,” Abby says.
“I’m just that good,” you retort. “Unless you’re drinking on the job or something. Are you a day drunk, by any chance?”
She can barely contain her fascination as she shakes her head and looks up. The chow hall fades into a blur as soon as your eyes meet.
“No, I think it’s all you,” she murmurs, her fingers toying with the cuff of her sleeve. “Come on a run with me, okay?”
The clamour of clattering dishes and trays makes it difficult to hear her.
“I didn’t catch that. Come where?”
“A run with me,” she says, pronouncing each word like she’s teaching you to speak for the first time.  
“They haven’t cleared me yet.”
“Not that kind of run,” Abby says, pushing herself back from the counter, brows jumping. “Meet me at the track later, yeah?”
Trying to bridge the growing distance between you, you shout, “How about no!” as she continues to walk backwards, awaiting your response.
Disregarding your answer, she calls out the exact time she expects you to join her, overpowering everything else with her radiant grin.
“But I hate cardio!”
“Don’t leave me hanging, lazy girl,” she chimes, shouldering through the doors until all that’s left of her is a whirl of confused flutters between your ribs.
Her sprightly tone gives that moniker a whole new meaning, making it the most tolerable by far.
By the time your shift lets up, the halls are serene, as most of the residents have retreated to their quarters for the night. By helping to prep the food for the next few days, you’ve lightened the load for tomorrow’s workforce.
Cardio with Abby is bound to leave you needing a rest day.
----------------------------------------
The stark contrast between the bustling stadium and the peaceful calm that descends after everyone wraps up their day never ceases to leave you in awe. You’ve spent countless hours in the nosebleeds, admiring the arena you call home.
While cutting through the gardens, the sweet, floral scent that fills the air enchants you. A basket of cherries precariously perches on the edge of an overturned crate, beckoning you to indulge in their juicy goodness.
After popping one into your mouth, you sneakily pilfer a few more for later.
Pushing through the gates with your hip, Abby catches your eye immediately.
Clad in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy tank top, she jogs along the opposite end of the track. Her hair is in a wavy, swinging ponytail, and she looks like a completely different person from where you’re standing.
Despite your instinct to sprint and catch up, your legs remain rooted to the spot, inexplicably frozen. It is surprising to see such grace in someone who’s composed of mostly muscle and grit. The idea of how you might look while running enters your consciousness, a thought that never occurred to you before this moment. You walk just fine. Surely you can run without humiliating yourself.
“You made it,” Abby pants. “I was beginning to think you bailed on me.”
“I should’ve,” you tease. “I could be cozied up on my couch, watching the same movie over and over.”
“Which one?”
“The Breakfast Club,” you say with a half-hearted shrug. It may not be to everyone’s taste, but there’s an elusive charm that entices you to keep picking it up from the library. “It’s my comfort flick right now, I guess.”
Abby flashes a self-assured smile and nudges you forward with her elbow, urging you to get a move on. After a few minutes of walking side by side, you work up the nerve to inquire about the source of inexplicable happiness etched on her cheeks.
“I found that one, actually,” Abby explains, her shoulder brushing against yours as she drifts into your lane. “The Breakfast Club.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“The thing made it through a hellish trip all the way from Eastern Montana. I thought it might be the only thing that made it back for a bit there.”
“That bad, huh? Sounds brutal,” you say, your attention drawn to the laces on her left sneaker, as they slowly loosen. “Well, good thing the movie survived.”
“Ha-ha,” she drones. “You’re just hilarious.”
You appreciate her lightheartedness as she shrugs off the playful jabs, and you contemplate teasing her about her lack of spatial awareness as she keeps unintentionally bumping into you. As you notice her shoelace giving way and dragging on the ground, you swiftly extend your hand to her chest, signalling her to stop.
Without thinking, you crouch down in front of her to retie it, noticing her panting heavily above you at the ministration. Fumbling your first attempt, she chooses not to mention it and instead adjusts herself to make it more comfortable for you.
With one shoe firmly secured by a double knot, you see that her other shoelace is gradually unraveling. You fix that one, too.
“Don’t need anyone rolling their ankle,” you say.
You spring to your feet, causing her face and neck to turn a rosy shade that appears too vibrant for moderate exercise. You’re too preoccupied warding off the heat that is climbing up your own neck in tingly vines to tease her about it.
She softly whispers her gratitude.
Without ever picking up your speed beyond a steady stroll, you continue to complete laps on the track, the repetitive motion becoming almost meditative. She eagerly shares details about the book she’s immersed in, and you hang on to her every word, intrigued by her perceptive theories.
“Wait, did you invite me here just to talk about books?” you ask. “Because I have to admit, I don’t totally hate it.”
“I’m not boring you to death?”
“Not at all,” you say. A crisp breeze dances across your arms, and you to hug yourself to fight the chill. “It’s fun to read books through your eyes.”
“Hold up.”
She jogs toward the bleachers and returns with her bomber jacket in hand.
She clings onto it for a while, long enough for you to question if she intended to wear it herself. Abby clears her throat and clumsily extends her coat and her generosity to you.
“I don’t mind the cold,” she says. “For you—if you want.”
“Oh, so I get to choose now.”
“Yeah, but can you please wear it? The rejection is killing me a bit.”
A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. Even when she’s just messing around, she reveals delicate parts of herself that help you understand her more. With the garment draped over your frame, you jog ahead and give her a spin.
“Ay! Watch that ankle!”
“Oh, I’m back, baby,” you boast, darting back and forth to show off your agility.
She watches as you frolic around, and you swear the dorky smile on her face only slips when she catches herself doing it.
You stop in front of her, tracing the nametag stitched neatly below the collar.
Anderson.
“It looks way better on you. How is that even fair?”
 “It’s all this running we’ve been doing—I’m the superior athlete now,” you jest. “You might as well quit while you’re ahead, Anderson.”
“Think you can back that up?” she asks, her competitive edge shaking to the surface.  
She points at a couple of lamp posts across the field and starts the countdown. With a sudden burst of energy, you take off like a bullet before she’s ready, provoking her to hurl fake threats after you as she closes in on your head start.
Your uncontrollable laughter is hindering your ability to run as the thunder of her approaching steps grows louder. You cut her off before she can pass, interrupting her momentum and taking the win by a hair’s breadth.
“Not cool,” she huffs, folding over at the finish line. Catching her breath, she steadies her hands on her knees. “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, right?”
“You’re just jealous I outsmarted you. All those muscles and for what?” you taunt.
Abby puffs out her chest in a defiant gleam of rebellion.
As you blindly try to free the rogue strands of hair that have become entangled with your lashes, you feel an annoying tickling sensation on your sweat-slicked face.
“Oh, come on,” you gripe.
“You’re ridiculous,” Abby says, drawing nearer. “Let me get it.”
With a slight tilt of her head, she patiently waits for you to acknowledge her offer.    
“Close your eyes for me,” she says.
You oblige, and suddenly, your heart pounds in your chest as her fingertip skims the sensitive skin between your eyelid and your brow. She meticulously brushes your hair back, tucking what she can behind your ears. A warm hum settles inside you as her touch makes your scalp tingle.
“Why are you being so nice?” you ask.
“It’s what you deserve,” Abby murmurs without missing a beat. “I’m sorry I wasn’t before.”
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pinksugarscrub · 1 month
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Home
Pirate! Hobie x fem! reader
In the famous words of Luffy (Iñaki) future pirate king, "A ship is also a home".
Inspired by Between the Devil and the Sea by @the-kr8tor
(Tossed draft for The Pirate Princess)
The piano echoes in your mind like an endless melody. Tapping your fingers against the edge of the crow’s nest like you would the ivory keys. You can remember the gold encrusted stars in the ceiling. The walls darker than the depths of the sea. How your heels clicked across a tiled floor that was so iridescent it was like you were dancing on glass.
Although you breathe in the salt from the body of water below, you taste something sweet on your tongue as you reminisce. It isn’t sad, just bittersweet.
“Interupting you am I?”
Laughter bubbles out of your lips as you feel a familiar set of arms wrap around your waist. Hobie burying his nose into the crook of your neck. You never grow tired of the warm fuzzy feeling his presence brings you and you can’t help but try to pull him closer so he’s flush against your back. 
“Woah!” Hobie chuckles,“a bit early for that isn’t it love?”
You click your tongue. Rolling your eyes as you try to jab his side with your elbow. “Oh hush! You’ve officially ruined the moment.”
He snickers, easily catching your arm before twisting you around to face him. “Officially? What are we, bloody marines?”
The chatter from the crew below helps bring you back to reality. Your new reality. One you wouldn’t trade for the world.
Crossing your arms across your chest you lean against the wall of the crow’s nest. Arching a brow at him as you decide to play along. “At least the marines know what to do when a beautiful woman falls into their lap.” 
His grin widens into a smirk you know all to well and you’re already dreading he’ll say next.
“But do they know how to keep their woman satisfied? Hm?” He leans forward. Eyes flicking between your lips and gaze. “Like I do?” 
Of course, like the gullible woman you are, you let your eyes flutter shut. You’re confused until you hear him giggle and you know you’ve been duped because when you open your eyes he’s looking down at you with that cheeky look on his face. It’s so infuriating but it apparently still has an affect on you anyway because you feel heat crawl up your cheeks.
You take this moment of loss to your self-esteem to admire his attire. A newly mended white blouse that’s cut to expose some of his chest. (You’ll have to thank Kamala for that later). Signature holster around his waist. Very casual compared to the thick leather coat he adorns when you go into battle. 
Personally, you believe your crew has more style than a bird of paradise with how many trinkets and accessories they seem to find each time you dock the Mary Jane. 
“Aww darling, c’mere,”he coos. ”You’re so cute when you get all pouty with me.”
You huff in annoyance as you try to keep him away. It’s obvious he’s pretending to struggle but you can’t bring yourself to care. He’s making loud kissy noises while you whine and push your palms against his chest. One on his exposed skin (Were you about to pass up that opportunity? I think not!) and the other on the cotton of his sleeve.
“No! What kind of Captain denies his navigator a kiss!?
He grunts,“The kind that will make up for it later! Now come here-” 
You struggle for a moment longer before you hear someone call out to you. The two of you stop. Blinking at each other before Hobie let’s you slip out of his grasp. His hand on your lower back to keep you from leaning to far over the edge.
“Oh Robbie!” You cheerfully wave down. He’s nothing more than a speck of green but you always manage to hear him clearly.
“Mate,” Hobie yells,“we were kind of in the middle of something important.”
Said first mate scoffs at him before rolling his eyes. Not that you see any of this happen. You just know the man well enough. “Oh yes, so important…” He clears his throat before yelling back,“Riri’s messed with the gear again and I’m pretty sure we’re headed in the opposite direction.”
You can only watch as a tool is chucked in his direction. You’re assuming from inside Riri’s makeshift workshop. Wincing as it successful bonks him in the head. “It’s called renovating!” 
You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. 
“I’ll be right down!” Your boots scuffing against the wood as you make your way past Hobie to the ladder. 
“Pray tell, where-” You squeak as you feel him tug you back into his chest. Stumbling not so gracefully after craning your neck up to see him. “-do you think, you’re going, without giving me my kiss?”
“I’m sorry,” you laugh,”but I have duties, Captain.” He preens at the title. Shifting you around in his arms like you would a rowdy pup. “If we want to reach port in the next six hours and you know, not die of starvation on this ship. I need to go.”
“I never told you not to.” He answers. Grinning as he tightens his hold on you. “But you have at least a minute to spare for your beloved, yes?”
You scrunch you nose, gently shaking your head as if scolding a child. A very greedy child that always seems to attach himself to you. It’s a wonder the crew hasn’t named him the ocean’s clingest sea urchin. “My beloved, yes, my captain…no,” you chuckle. “Come on Hobie, I promise you a kiss after supper and after I help Riri.”
He sighs dramatically before releasing you. His hands up in surrender as he backs away. “Fine fine. But I’m holding you to it eh? The second you’re done you come find me.”
“Aye Captain.” You salute. He watches as you hop down the ladder and after two or three steps you disappear. Once you’re out of earshot he lets out a dreamy sigh, slumps against the walls of the crow’s nest, and cranes his neck up to the sky. 
“Oi, that means you too Hobart!” Robbie hisses. “Stop daydreaming a get down ere’!”
Hobie snorts, fixing his hat. “Alright, I’m comin’!”
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longing-for-rain · 24 days
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I don’t even understand the character Sokka stans are stanning. It’s not even Sokka. It is like they are taking the big strong tough guy Sokka thinks he is and acting like that is his actual character when it isn’t. I know not all of them are z*kkas but it does seem like atla renaissance and z*kka popularity added to this trend of taking Katara traits and giving them to Sokka instead
Me neither? I honestly don’t dislike Sokka as a character. I never particularly related to him like I do with other characters, but what frustrates me is how the fandom treats him in relation to other characters, especially Katara.
I definitely agree with you that there was a noticeable shift with the ATLA renaissance in 2020. I was in the fandom long before then and the biggest shift I saw was character bashing taking a faux-progressive spin. For example, Mai bashing used to involve calling her ugly and abusive, but shifted into shoving her into sapphic side ships for the aesthetic instead (while still making jabs at her appearance and demeanor, of course, because people can’t be normal about lesbians). As for Katara, it’s even worse. I’ll get into that.
I remember that historically, Katara has been one of the most bashed and hated on characters in the fandom. People would call her bossy and self important, say she was too emotional, that she was too rude, that she didn’t care about other people’s problems, etc. It was blatant back then, but I honestly see the same trends now, just more covertly. People acting like Katara is not as mature as Sokka, not “mom friend,” or otherwise downplaying the responsibilities she had to take on, fundamentally, are operating on the same logic. They do it in a very jokey way a lot of the time or even act like they’re “letting her be a kid” but really it’s just erasing the nuance of her character in the same way overtly misogynistic fans once did.
Because here’s the thing. We can all recognize Katara was forced into a parental role at an early age and that wasn’t fair to her. But acting like that was something that randomly happened on its own is not addressing the problem. But these fans refuse to address the problem by answering the question of why Katara constantly has to take this role…because that would require them to hold Sokka and Aang accountable for their actions and these people will not do that.
I really do think this is tied in with zukka too. I will say that I’m not a zukka anti. I actually really enjoy some zukka content because it can give a refreshing perspective. But I do see a lot of characterizations that are deeply annoying because they really seem like they’re trying to replace Katara. They want the Zutara dynamic but want slash. And I know these characterizations are no longer unique to zukka, but I would agree they were popularized by it.
Just off the top of my head:
The character who is the first of the group to trust Zuko? That was Katara. Sokka was the one in favor of leaving him to die whereas Katara trusted him twice during Book 2.
The character who emotionally connects with Zuko? That’s Katara.
The character who Zuko feels safest letting his guard down around? That’s Katara.
The character who helps Zuko heal from his trauma? That’s Katara.
The character known for showing the most compassion to others? That’s Katara.
The character who primarily bears the burden of having to step up into a parental role? That’s Katara.
The character who represses their emotions to be strong for others? That’s Katara.
And yet, for some reason, there is this new wave of fans who take all of these traits central to Katara and give them to Sokka instead. It’s just frustrating. Sokka is his own character. He’s different. I really just think this is a new brand of misogyny where we take traits like these for granted in female characters but overemphasize them in male characters.
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short-honey-badger · 4 months
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Peppermint Tea 28 - Lavender 9
Thank you to the lovely @headcaasefiction for helping me out!
So. This will probably be my last chapter for a hot minute. I've not been able to work on my stuff how I like to lately. So I have unfortunately fallen behind, and I would really love to do my best with the last half of Peppermint Tea. However, I have made this pretty long as an apology. ❤️❤️
Its been a wild ride so far! I hope you enjoy!
Warnings! Not many? Pregnancy stuff is mentioned. We finally get a couple of confessions, but that doesn't mean it turns out good. Angst happens.
Masterlist
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You watch in awe, eyes large and sparkling in fascination as your brother parries his opponent, knocking their arm away with a swat of his hand. His body turned to dust and dropped low to avoid the blow to the chest that would have surely happened. He comes back up with a vicious swing, his knuckles smashing into the other boy's jaw and busting their lips. Blood drips down their chin as they wheel back, lips pulling back to show white teeth stained red.
Your brother goes back in, sending another two blows to the boy who had shoved you to the ground and called you some mean name that you can't even remember now. He is red in the face, his white hair a mess, and rage glowing in his green eyes.
“Stay the fuck away from my sister,” your brother snarls in the redhead’s face and shoves him away for good measure, “Get the hell outta here, Jax.”
The redhead sneers and spits at the prince. He turns and limps down the alleyway, a sneer on his face, “This ain't over, Princess.”
Your brother rolls his eyes and then dusts himself off as he turns back to his little sister, lips twisting into a smirk, “You okay, Sunshine?”
You grin and fling yourself into your brother's arms, “I'm fine! Not even a scratch. Can you teach me how to fight like that?”
Your brother laughs, green eyes alight with mirth, “Sure. When you're old enough not to need an afternoon nap.”
You pout, thumping him on the chest, “Ugh. You say that every time.”
“Sunshine. You'll be asleep before we even get back home,” He points out and scoops you up, over his shoulder, grinning when you let out a delighted laugh. You argue that you most definitely won't fall asleep, and to his surprise, you don't. Your brother carts you all the way to your bedroom where he plops you on the bed. You bounce with a giggle and then attack him, jabbing at his ribs and armpits with a grin.
It lasts until he gets the upper hand and tickles his baby sister until you're red in the face and gasping for oxygen, begging for uncle. He pulls you in a headlock, kissing the top of your head with fondness.
“You know I'll always protect you, right?”
You nod, turning around to hug your brother as tightly as you can, “Of course I do! You're my big brother, Tomura!”
The scene changes suddenly, and you can hear the sounds of screams and vile laughter echoing all around you. Watching your home burn has become a familiar sight, but it still leaves you shaking in fear. Tomura runs as fast as he can, legs nothing but a literal cloud of dust as he skids around corners and runs down alleyways to get to the docks.
Another turn, and you know what's coming up. Tomura begs you not to look, but your eyes land on the tall figure anyway, wide-brimmed hat and white feather filling your vision until the next alleyway breaks your line of sight.
Tomura drops you to the deck, and you scramble up to help him pull the rigging and open the sails. Snow falls all around you, but your brother is there to help when you need it, and soon, the two of you are out in the open sea. Everything is okay for a while, and then the side of your boat exploding into splinters has you screaming in fear. Another shot is missed, sending freezing sea water over you and Tomura. The saltwater feels paralyzing, the devil fruit snarling at having been drenched.
The ship on the port side suddenly implodes, wood scattering everywhere and sending the Big Mom pirates to water graves. The same thing happens to the two ships on your starboard, and you look out into the raging seas and finally catch sight of that big white feather that blows in the winds before it disappears behind the rising waves.
-----
You jerk awake with a gasp, eyes wide and chest heaving. You can still hear the boy's name ringing in your head. Tomura Tomura Tomura. That was your brother's name. How could you have ever forgotten his name? Someone so near and dear to your heart. The one who had saved you from the destruction of your home. Why are you remembering now when you've been having these dreams for over a year? Why can you still recall his name? What he looks like.
You are so in your head, thoughts racing as you try and fail to pull up any memories of your past, that you don't notice the two men looking at you in concern. You have sat up, hand over your mouth and eyes wide like you've just seen a ghost. Shanks and Mihawk share a look of concern, and then the redhead carefully reaches out to touch your shoulder.
“You okay, Angel?” He asks, and the sudden touch and noise have you jumping out of your skin.
You whip around, turning to sit on your knees on the bed and look at your boys. They look worried, and you can't blame them. You probably look crazy, but it feels like a puzzle piece has finally clicked into place, and you can't just keep it to yourself.
“I have a brother. I-I think his name is Tomura. He's got white hair and green eyes, and he's the one who brought me here.”
This is definitely not what either man had expected you to say. Shanks looks a little confused but accepting, but Mihawk looks pale, yellow eyes wide with a hint of panic behind them before he expertly schools his features. The redhead glances over at the warlord and quickly switches to damage control. This wasn't the time for that talk.
“Do you remember anything else, Sweetheart?” He asks and smooths his hand up and into your hair. The name Tomura sounds familiar, but he doesn't think he's ever seen the man you are speaking about. To you, your brother would still be nothing but a boy in your memories. He glances at Mihawk, relieved to see that the panic has disappeared, and he looks like his unimpressed self.
“He was older than me, a teenager. He'd be a man now if he's still alive,” you murmur, carefully putting the pieces together. Why can't you remember more? Did something happen to you? Thinking about that makes you feel uneasy, and you curl an arm around your belly protectively.
While you go back and forth with Shanks, telling the redhead of the other dreams you've been having, Mihawk is quietly spiraling. This is his worst nightmare. If you started to remember your past, then he feared that you would remember him, too. Dracule knows that you saw him that night. He'd seen you too, tossed over your brother's shoulder as he ran away, and then again on the ship that took you away from your home. You would want nothing to do with him if you ever found out that Dracule was responsible.
Even though you've only been a part of his life for such a short time, Mihawk couldn't imagine losing you. To give up the content happiness that he's finally achieved by being here with you. Not to mention the wonderful gift you have given to him and Shanks. You have become his everything, his reasons for continuing his sham of a career as a warlord. All of it is used to keep you safe from harm.
Mihawk knows your brother, has seen him in passing, and seen him in action. The younger man is vicious and would not hesitate to attack Mihawk if he knew that the warlord had connections to his sister. It was only the knowledge of Mihawk driving the other ships away that night that kept the tension from snapping between the two men when they were in the same room together. Thankfully, it isn't that often.
However, none of that has happened, and if he were lucky, Mihawk would never have to deal with it being a problem. He forces himself to take a deep breath, letting it out slowly through his nose. He needs to focus and get over himself. Everything would be fine.
“I um. I saw you again, too, Mihawk.”
Okay. Maybe everything wouldn't be okay.
Dracule licks his lips, glad that he isn't facing his angel right now or else she would see the guilt that painted his face. The warlord schools his face once more and then swings his legs off the bed, stomach churning as he turns and gives you a smirk that doesn't quite reach his eyes.
“Still dreaming about me, are you?” Mihawk teases, and thankfully, you don't see anything remiss about his expression.
You huff and roll your eyes at the warlord, put out at being dismissed on the subject, “At least a couple times a week.”
Shanks gives him a look, and Dracule glares right back over your head at the redhead. The other man just sighs and shakes his head in disappointment, annoyed that Mihawk wouldn't just come clean and put all of this behind them.
Dracule shifts back on the bed, long arms curling around your legs as he rests his face against your plush thighs. He kisses each one gently and then leans up to press his lips to your swollen tummy, and you can't help the snort that leaves you at the ticklish sensation.
The warlord tugs you in for a kiss, aiming to make you forget about this topic, “I've told you before to not worry about these dreams, Darling.”
You shrug at him, expression a bit helpless in the face of his clear dismissal. Usually, you would be content to let the matter slide, but this dream irks you, and you need to get to the bottom of this.
“I know you have,” you grumble and let yourself be pulled into Shanks’ embrace, turning your head to nudge into his shoulder. The redhead runs almost as hot as Mihawk, and you bask in it. His hand finds your own and gives it an encouraging squeeze, “But I can't let this one go. I've never been able to remember anything more than watching an island burn and you, Mihawk.”
The warlord tenses, and Shanks can see the way his back tightens up like a bowstring. He tugs you closer to his chest, not willing to let you see the unease that surrounds the other man. You go willingly, frown lingering on your lips as you lose yourself back in your head, going over your dreams and trying to pick out anything else that might stick out at you.
Dracule stands, turning to drop a quick kiss on your brow and Shanks’ cheek, “I’ll go start breakfast. You need your energy.”
Mihawk tosses on a robe and escapes from the bedroom.
You watch him go, concerned at the way he had retreated, and Shanks sighs heavily under you, eyes shut as he shakes his head at the other man's ridiculousness right now.
“Is he okay?” You ask quietly, and Shanks hates the way you sound so hesitant, so unsure of yourself. You speak up again before the pirate can assure you that Mihawk is fine.
“He's always been like this when I mention my dreams, and it hurts when he just casts them away. What if I'm right, and all this crap in my brain are memories?”
Shanks isn't sure what to tell you. He isn't the one that you should be discussing this with, but Mihawk obviously wasn't going to be the one to come clean. How can Shanks tell you that your hunch is right without giving away Dracule’s involvement? This was the other man's mess to fix, but Shanks felt guilty just by association.
“Sometimes Mihawk thinks he knows what's best for us, even if he doesn't go about it the right way,” Shanks murmurs and kisses the top of your head, trying to assure his lover, “Want me to go talk to him?”
You debate the offer. It makes you feel weird to have Shanks be the one to mitigate the tension that rolls between you and Mihawk. But you're tired of watching the other man push you away any time that you mention your dreams to him. They have to mean something, and whatever it is- it's important to you, and you have to find out why. You could have a brother out there, someone who knew who you were. Why would Hawkeye dismiss it?
You sigh and finally nod, “Yeah okay. Maybe that's not a bad idea.”
Shanks hums, rolling the two of you and looming over you. He leans in and kisses you silly, tongue slipping past your lips to gently curl with your own slick muscle. The kiss makes you relax, and you sink back into the bed with a soft sigh. He smiles down at you, leaning in to rub his nose along your own.
“I've got you, Sweetheart. We’ll figure this out together. Okay?”
You nod gratefully, a sweet smile playing on your lips, “Okay.”
The Emperor bestows one last kiss and then shuffles out of the bed. He tugged on his pants from yesterday and watched as Sukuna took his spot, curling up close to his human and glaring at the redhead as if Shanks had been the one to upset you. He glares right back at the demon cat and then lopes out of the bedroom, Hank jumping up from the floor and following after him.
He finds Mihawk in the kitchen, hovering over the stove and fixing up a hearty breakfast for the three of them. The kettle has been filled, and Shanks spots three mugs on the counter, each filled with their preferred blend. He is quiet as he steps close to Mihawk, pressing his front to the other man's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder.
“You're being an asshole, ya know,” the redhead points out, tone not unkind, but Shanks is tired of stepping on eggshells about this with the other man.
Mihawk puffs up like a bird, yellow eyes going wide as he stills, “I am not being an asshole. I'm doing my best to protect her.”
Shanks hums. It's a disbelieving sound, and it causes Dracule's hackles to rise, irritation flaring up like an old wound. What would the Emperor know anyway? He hadn't been there that night. Mihawk had slaughtered your people, painted Yoru red with their blood, and had done so out of pure boredom. He didn't think that saving you and your brother absolved him of his sins.
“You could at least tell her that her brother is alive,” Shanks points out, but Mihawk is shaking his head, his frown even more prominent.
“No, then she'd know of my involvement, and I can't risk that.” He denies it and goes back to furiously scrambling the eggs that pop and sizzle in the pan. He doesn't want to talk about this anymore. He'd much rather just forget about all of this and go back to having a nice, peaceful morning.
“I think you're being an idiot,” Shanks says, tone disappointed and despondent, “She's been nothing but kind and accepting to us. She's pregnant with our child, don't you think she deserves to know everything?”
Dracule tenses the more Shanks goes on, and inside, the warlord knows that the other man is right. It isn't fair to you, but just the thought of admitting his deeds makes him clam up, fear curdling his stomach.
“You know she loves you, right? Told me that before the three of us got together, she was worried I was trying to take her away from you.”
“Stop lying,” Mihawk hisses and grips the counter, brows pulled together in an awful scowl. He doesn't want to hear anymore. How could you love someone so monstrous and selfish like him?
“I'm not lying. She loves you. Just like I never stopped loving you, Mihawk,” Shanks murmurs and pushes past the grief and anger that he can feel surrounding the other man. He presses his brow to Dracule's tense back, willing the warlord to open his ears and listen to him.
“Stop being afraid to love us back.”
“I'm not afraid,” Dracule sounds wrecked, and Shanks curls his arm around that slim waist, tugging him closer to his chest and holding the older man close.
“Then come clean, Baby. Tell her what happened, and let her hear your piece.” Shanks urges softly and presses a kiss to the side of his neck, “You can't keep it inside forever.”
Mihawk is quiet for a long time. Could he do this? Could he open up to you about everything, even with the risk of you tossing him out into the ocean? Dracule thinks of the pained look that he'd caught when he'd dismissed your memories and finds that the guilt is near suffocating. Shanks was right. It wasn't fair to any of them.
“After breakfast, I'll tell her.” Mihawk decides quietly. He doesn't want to, and it terrifies him to think what your reaction will be, but it must happen. Dracule was tired of hiding.
Shanks hugs his treasure close and promises him the same thing that he promised you not very long ago, “We'll figure this out together, yeah?”
Dracule gives a jerky nod, and then the two focus on getting breakfast finished. Shanks sneaks Hank some eggs, and the big lug happily scarfs them down. Mihawk sets the table, busying himself while Shanks disappears to escort you to the kitchen.
He finds you curled up still, Sukuna draped over you like a big, fluffy shield. He goes to the side of the bed and cards his hand through your hair, “You up for breakfast, sweetheart?”
Your pregnancy has been more of a struggle than anything. You hated how emotional you’ve become, getting upset over tiny things that you would otherwise ignore. You couldn’t eat certain things, and you had cried the last time the scent of your favorite tea had made you nauseous. You felt needy, and that made you feel even worse, even though Shanks and Mihawk both have assured you more than a few times that it was fine.
The men actually enjoyed how clingy you've become, eagerly awaiting your beck and call, whether it be running you a hot bath or massaging your sore ankles. Mihawk, in particular, turned out to be a mother hen, coming around more often and staying close to your side. He found books on the birthing process and what to expect after and made it a point to read them out loud when Shanks was able to come around. The other man would grimace and bury his face in the closest soft surface.
“I guess,” you murmur and push yourself up. Sukuna meows in protest, golden eyes narrowing on Shanks for being the one to disturb his nap. You dig your fingers into his thick coat and scratch the ornery beast, and your cat rewards you with thunderous purs. They make you crack and smile, and then you scoot off the bed, grabbing your fluffy robe and tossing it on.
Shanks follows you back to the kitchen where Mihawk has finished setting the table. The warlord comes to your side the moment he sees you, long fingers framing your face as he leans in and kisses you softly. You are surprised enough to kiss him back, but it only lasts half a second before he is pulling away, though he doesn't go far.
“Forgive me, Darling. I shouldn't treat you that way. Especially when it is something so dear to you.”
Mihawk's apology has you melting in his hold, tears well up, and slides down your cheeks. He wipes them away, unphased by the sudden appearance of them.
You sniff and give Dracule a watery smile, “Thank you for apologizing.”
Your rough voice makes his heart break, and Mihaek has a foreboding feeling that he'll be begging for your forgiveness again sooner rather than later. He doesn't want to upset you even more than you are now, but Mihawk had promised Shanks.
“Come, Angel. Let's have breakfast, then I think you and I should talk.”
You frown at the words, but nod, not in the mood to argue with the older man right now. Shanks presses a kiss to the back of your head and then takes his seat, patting his lap with a grin. Mihawk scoffs quietly but steers you in the Emperor’s direction, and you end up seated on the redhead’s lap. You cautiously pull your tea forward and relax when the scent of spearmint reaches your nose.
Breakfast is a quiet affair, though both men are attentive as usual and make sure that you have eaten your fill before they begin to clean up. You pout at being sent to the living room and remind the men that you aren't completely useless. Shanks relents first and reluctantly lets you take over drying the dishes while he goes outside to feed Neal and the three chickens.
Afterward, the three of you retreat to the living room. Your nerves build when the Mihawk sits you in his usual armchair while he and Shanks share the couch. You curl your legs under you, not liking the tension that had bloomed in the room. you lick your lips and break the silence when it seems that neither Shanks nor Mihawk looked like they were going to speak up.
“What's going on?”
You aren't expecting Mihawk to catch your gaze, and you are wholly unprepared to see the terrible guilt and fear that swim in his ringed eyes. The sight strikes you, and you feel concern and anger well up inside. You don't like to see these emotions in your warlord. Mihawk has always been a stone pillar in your life, and it upset you to know that something had made him feel like this.
“Do you remember when you first told me of the dreams you kept having?” When you nod, Mihawk continues, “I lied when I told you that I didn't know anything about them. I panicked earlier when you called your dreams memories because they are _.”
You stare at Mihawk. You can hear him, but there is a ringing in your ears. What did he mean? How could Mihawk know?
“...what?”
Shanks butts in when he sees the confusion and horror that masks your face, “Sweetheart. What do you remember of your home before you came here? Where you came from?”
You shake your head, hands clutching at your robe, “Ah, no? That's always been a little fuzzy for me. I don't know why I can't remember.”
Mihawk speaks up, and you've never heard the stoic man so fretful and nervous before. You don't like it.
“Your home was a chain of prosperous islands named the Nammu Isles. Your parents ruled with a kind hand, but people began to talk, and Charlotte started hearing rumors that the kingdom had connections to Ohara.”
you recognize the name. You remember reading it in one of the many books that Mihawk had brought you over the months. You remember feeling so so angry reading the name, but you couldn't find a reason why. You don't know if it's better or worse now that you know the reason.
“Your parents begged her for a chance to save themselves and offered you up as a bride for one of Big Mom’s sons. She pretended to accept the deal, but in reality, she sent out a message. Calling anyone who wanted a good fight to assist in dealing with a country who needed to know their place.”
“And you were one of them?” You breathe, tone full of anguish, and you look between Mihawk and Shanks. Your heart thuds loudly, and you curl an arm protectively around your stomach. You feel sick.
“I was,” Mihawk confirms, tone wretched and broken, “Your oldest brother, Tomura, found out about the attack and got you out before Big Mom and her sons could make it to the castle. I followed them inside and overheard them making plans to send out ships to search for the two of you, and I decided then that I wanted nothing more to do with Big Mom and her destruction.”
Dracule can see your mounting horror, and he knows he deserves every bit of it, but Mihawk needs to tell you the rest, so he continues.
“I stood there in the main room, looking at all the destruction that they had caused. That I caused, but when I saw you, so innocent and undeserving of what we did to your home, I knew that I couldn't let them find you. I left without a word and sailed out to find you and your brother, saving you from the pirates that had found you, and then I ran. As the years passed, I forgot about what happened, forgot about you, until I found you again.”
You feel like you've stepped straight into the raging waves of the ocean as memories play behind your eyes. You can see it so clearly now, Mihawk arriving on your island and your brother begging you to look away from the Marine Hunter at the time. You can feel the ship rock and shake under you when the cannon balls get too close, and the silence after once you realize that you are safe. You know in your heart that Dracule is telling the truth, but how are you supposed to take such a confession?
You hate him for helping destroy your life, but you can't even remember what your parents look like. Your dreams - memories you remind yourself - only ever showing you your brother and the destruction of your home. But Mihawk had lied to you about who you are for almost two years. He knew your past, knew more than even you. How else were you supposed to feel?
and Shanks? How long had he known? Was he on it, too? The redhead had to have been. They were far too close, and Shanks too knowledgeable about the world. You feel sick, disgusted with the two men in front of you, but numb, too. You don't know how the warlord wants you to react, but you don't think you can deal with either of them right now.
Your silence unnerves Dracule, and he moves from the couch, taking a half step toward his angel, only to stop when you happen to stand as well. He watches with a hopeful expression that falls as you walk past him. Shanks stands as well, dark eyes never leaving your figure as you walk to the front door.
They watch you open it up and stand beside the exit, and Mihawk feels his heart break into a thousand pieces when you look at him, expression closed off and unreadable.
“Get out. Both of you.”
The silence that rings after your statement is deafening. Shanks and Mihawk share a look, and the redhead takes a step forward, hand outstretched.
“Baby, don't - you don't mean that,” he whispers quietly, but you don't look at him. You can't right now. instead, you keep solid eye contact with Mihawk, the true culprit.
“Yes I do. I want you out. Now,” you repeat, and the longer the men linger, the more upset you grow. You have to think. You need time to wrap your head around the fact that both of the people you trust the most in the world have lied to you.
Thankfully, Mihawk seems to understand that being there right now would be the worst thing he and Shanks could do. He tugs Shanks back to the bedroom where Dracule silently gathers his things, slipping on his coat and hat while Shanks roots around for his shirt.
“Mihawk-,” Shanks murmurs, but stops the second the older man shakes his head. The redhead can feel Mihawk's anguish, and he desperately wants to take it away from him, but he knows that only one thing would get Dracule out of his head, and that was you.
You are still standing by the door when they come out of the bedroom. Mihawk can see the way you tremble, but you stay strong and watch them come closer. He stops before you, wanting to reach out, to bed for forgiveness, but the warlord knows it would only make this all worse.
“Call us, please, angel,” Dracule says instead, and doesn't budge until you dip your head in agreement. He fights against the urge to pull you in for a kiss and instead ducks out of the cottage and stalks down the footpath. He needs to go or else he would stay and do something that he would regret.
Shanks lingers, and the redhead can't help himself. He goes to close the distance only for a weight to be shoved at his legs. He looks down, disbelief coloring his face when he sees Hank standing between the two of you. The big mutt stares up at Shanks, and the redhead swears that he can see disappointment swimming in the dog's dark gaze. He looks up at you, helpless, but you look away from him.
“I said get out, Shanks,” you hiss, and the redhead can hear the strain in your voice. He wants to stay, wants to tell you that everything would be okay, and that the three of you could work through this, but he knows that it's a lost cause. At least for now.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” Shanks murmurs, and then he turns and follows Mihawk down the path and to the beach. He rounds up his crew with a few short words, heart breaking further when he realizes that Mihawk is already on his ship sailing away, not even nothing to wait for the younger man.
Now alone, you shut the door and go to the couch, sitting in the middle of it. You take a look around your empty home, feeling hollow and alone. You give Hank a sad, strained smile when he comes and sits beside you, Sukuna appearing seconds later to curl up in your lap. Tears well up and stream down your cheeks, but you do not stop them. You let them fall, and grieve for a past you can't remember and a future that you don't know if you can trust.
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xsister-serpent · 3 months
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MDNI 18+, Female receiving, Dacryphilia Big Time, Begging, Female Squirting  A/N: Decided to make a Dacryphilia blurb with Kylo Ren. There's just something about making this man whimper and beg that does things to me. Based on this song. (I need help.) Anyways enjoy! 
Kylo stood outside the door to your quarters. He could sense your presence through the force. He could feel your anger as it grew stronger and stronger.
He could feel every single one of your thoughts and feelings across the ship.
The thought of leaving you here in your quarters was making him uncomfortable. It felt wrong because he knew there was no way for him to help without intruding further.
He paced back and forth as he felt your anger spiking.
“You might as well come in,” You replied taking a sip of your wine. 
Kylo's heart rate quickened as he heard your voice. He took a step towards the door, stopping himself before he could cross into the room. 
Instead, he spoke loudly from the other side of the door.
"What are you doing?"
His tone was still in its usual low and husky nature, but there was a hint of curiosity mixed with concern.
With a hiss, the door opened and he entered smelling the incense of sandalwood lingering in the air.
Your room was dimly lit as you hated the bright white cold lights of the Finalizer. You took a drink as I heard Kylos familiar footsteps enter and the door closing shut. 
“Getting drunk,” You bluntly spoke, “What are you doing here?? Surely there are more war prisoners for you to torture??” 
Kylo felt your words and how you spoke them to be a slight jab at him. He wanted to snap back at you but managed to contain himself. He stayed silent for a few seconds as he tried to think of another reason to have come to your room other than just checking up on you. But for once he fell silent.
Your eyebrows rose as you took a seat in your leather chair across from him, “Oh Gods…have you lost your voice??”
 A chuckle escaped you as you carefreely leaned back into the chair. You were already feeling the slight haze in your mind and the warmth in your chest. Kylo's expression slightly tightened at the sound of your laughs. His silence remained, and he took another step into your room. 
His eyes scanned your body, the way it relaxed in that chair with a bottle of wine in your hand. There was a small bit of frustration he felt as he continued to stare at you, as he watched you further lower yourself into the haze. 
"Stop,"  He finally spoke, his voice still in its usual low and husky tone. 
“You know this is my quarters, which means I have power here,” You stated, “And no, I won’t stop.”
You didn’t bother to understand why he was here. Everywhere you went, he was always there not too far behind. Even in moments like this. It drove you insane, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.
"You're going to get drunk," Kylo's response was short and blunt as he took another step towards you. 
“That’s the point Kylo,” You mumbled as you reached for your wine glass getting another drink, “Why are you here?” 
"I'm trying to stop you from getting drunk-" 
Kylo stopped as he realized just how much he was like a parent at that moment. It made him stop for a few moments as he tried to find another reason to be in your quarters, but he couldn't find one other than the original he had. 
He stayed silent for a few moments as he tried to think of anything to say before he spoke again.
"May I?"
You waved your hand motioning to the wine bottle, “By all means. It’s better than your little taste test of me.” 
As much as you wanted to forget you couldn’t.  The forceful way he placed his hand down your trousers. How his fingers entered your wet folds to coat his fingers. It was like a drug to him almost, the taste of your sex and the scent. He kept his index finger pointed vertically up the cheek and his middle finger brushed against his nose to inhale that scent.
“I don’t even know why I let you do it,” You stated quietly as he took a glass out for himself.
"I wouldn't call that a taste test, more of a", Kylo’s voice drifted as he came back towards you.
Your words struck a chord within him as he noticed the way your eyes narrowed, and your body tensed slightly as you spoke. 
He decided not to continue with his comment, it was trouble enough that he was here alone with you. 
Kylo poured himself a glass of wine from the bottle on your desk, as he then sat down across you in the other chair.
“Oh???” You challenged him with a hint of annoyance in your voice, “Go on say it. I’m curious to hear what you have to say Kylo.”
His eyebrow rose as he noticed the way you were staring at him. It was almost like a stare-down, but he knew he had already lost.
 "What do you want me to say? That I enjoyed it?" He retorted before taking a drink of his wine.
There was a small bit of curiosity mixed with a bit of boldness in his tone. 
“Did you??” You asked in a low hushed voice.
Kylo's entire body frame seized. 
You decided you wanted to hurt him now. You wanted to break him as much as he did you. And in that moment of his weakness, you knew how.
“Did it feel good to taste me? To taste that forbidden fruit? To smell me on your fingers?” 
His eyes remained locked on yours as he sat across from you, as he felt his body tense and his heart rate quicken. You had never spoken to him like this...in such a sensual and provocative way.
"Yes," he spoke simply as his voice turned into a whisper, "Yes it did..."
He would not lie to you or hide any of the feelings about that moment from you, and he was prepared for whatever reaction that you would have. 
A cruel laugh emerged from your lips as the drunkenness as well as this newfound power over Kylo sparked something in you. 
“You’re the worst you know that,” You spoke with a cruel smile.
 Kylo’s eyes didn’t stop following you as you walked over towards him. With newfound anger and lust, you weren’t sure how to differentiate the two anymore, you grabbed his neck slightly applying pressure to him. 
 “You still want that taste?” You asked him seeing his eyes stare back at you with a sort of lovesick gaze. 
"Yes,” Kylo whispered out as you held his neck. His eyes shifted over to your fingers as you applied pressure to him. 
His eyes closed and he bit down on his lower lip as he let out a moan, "More than I could ever say..."
You with the force, grabbed him and shoved him into the wall knocking him to his knees. His breathing became hard and heavy as he was looking at you in a mix of lust and fear. You pulled his collar down to your height as you kissed him deeply with feverish anger. You pinned his arms back against the wall as you invaded his mouth mercilessly. The feeling of your lips pressing against his was driving his heart rate through the roof. A whimper escaped his throat as you broke apart from him sucking in a breath. His pink flushed lips parted slightly as he tried to lick your lips back into his kiss. 
“Beg me to stop,” You repeated to him just as he did with you. 
The way you spoke to him... The way you demanded him...
Oh, how he loved it...
"Please..." He whined to say between gasps as he tried to catch his breath.
The mix of wine and the power you exhumed over him sent your senses afire. Kylo’s whimpering and moans filled your ears as you used more force. You released him from your grip and forced him to kneel with a slight wave of your hand. A strained groan escaped him as he realized you were more powerful than you had been. 
“P-please, I need it, I need you,” Kylo's tone was in a whine as he was stunned by your power, “I don’t care how pathetic I sound! I need you to use me!!”
His eyes were suddenly becoming glossy, almost tearful as his face was now pink and flushed. 
Gods he must’ve dreamt about this You mused to yourself as he was now looking up at you. 
You kept your eyes on him as your hands went to the waistband of your trousers. Kylo’s eyes shifted to your waist as your hands reached the zipper. It was a look of pure hunger in his eyes.
You took off your trousers exposing yourself fully to him. His lips parted slightly as his face was pink, his eyes eager and his mouth ready to please.
This was a different kind of power trip now. And You wanted to fully use it.
You moved in front of him and took a handful of his raven hair pushing his face into your pussy. A ‘Mmphf!’ whimper escaped Kylo’s throat, vibrating it into your core. 
You could feel him whining in pleasure as his mouth kissed your folds. His tongue flattened out as he moved it delicately between your lower lips. 
“Y-you wanted this,” You stifled back a moan feeling his wet kisses and tongue glide into your hot wet slit. 
The sight before him made his heart race even faster, which was a surprise considering how quickly it was already going. He was trembling as he buried his face in you. The moans and whimpers he let out added to the pleasure it brought you. 
Kylo's hands groped at your hips as he begged you to keep him there. He wasn't going to deny your last comment, he did want this, no matter the source and motivation for wanting it.
“I do,” he whimpered between each suck, “Me being down here, while you’re up there. ”
His lips pressed against your folds, and the sounds that were now escaping his throat were not of protest, but pure ecstasy. He didn't want this to stop. He wanted more. 
“I-I can’t believe I’m letting you do this,” You moaned as you began to palm your own breast keeping your other hand firmly on his head. 
 Your slight chuckle escaped your lips that turned into a heated pant. Your eyes fluttered open to glance down seeing his eyes slightly water with tears. His pale skin was now a flushed pink hue as he looked up with desperation.  His tongue moved with ravenous hunger making you feel a shortness of breath.
“G-gods Kylo,” You whimpered feeling his tongue move deeper, “I bet you dreamed of this..”
His eyes stared back up at you as tears fell them, you were in control of this entire situation, and him. And you knew exactly what he wanted. 
"I-I did,” Kylo breathed deeply savoring the full taste of you. 
You sighed in pleasure and slightly pulled his head away stopping him from continuing.
A whine erupted from him as you pulled his head away, carrying a slight strain of your cum on his lips. His lips were wet as was his chin, he looked beautiful.
“Do you.do you love me?” You asked him feeling the buzz of his pleasure from his mouth the buzz of the wine in your system. 
Kylo stared back at you as he blinked the tears he was trying to keep suppressed away. He then gazed back at you with a look filled with love. 
"Yes,” he softly admitted through a few tears, “I love you..."
A faint smile came upon your face and pulled his face back against your pussy once more making Kylo muffle his moan. The moment your hand returned to his back again, his lips started working hard again. Your tossed head back as a groan of pleasure came out. 
“K-keep going,” You heatedly whispered as his tongue moved around, slowly exploring every inch of the wet center. 
His hands kept groping at your hips as he pushed them up, urging you to move even further onto him. 
A gasp escaped you as you felt his face burying deeper. His nose brushed against your clit stimulating you even more. That wave of pleasure was increasing, building deep within you.
“G-gods Kylo,” You groaned feeling your climax bearing down on you. 
 You looked down seeing his tear-stained eyes staring up at you in admiration and lovesick. You sucked in a breath as your felt my chest seize and core tightened against his fingers moved in and out at a quick pace. 
“Give it to me Y/N p-please,” he begged, his hot breath grazing against your bundle of nerves, “Give. It. To. Me.” You were struggling for breath as you felt his mouth encase your pussy once again. His mouth was moving mercilessly against you as his fingers pumped into you. That sweet pressure between your legs was climbing further and further as Kylo’s tongue entered you. Your eyes shot open as you felt your body begging for release. Your hips began to buck into Kylo’s face as he muffled his moans into your folds, that beautiful sound of your wetness on his lips was music to him. He could feel your wetness on his face and chin and the wonderful tenseness of your arousal swelling against his mouth. 
“D-damn it,” You panted feeling him move faster feeling every muscle in your being grow tighter and tighter.
 Your climax suddenly ripped into you causing me to jolt forward into Kylo’s mouth. Your eyes shut tighter as you felt a sudden gush leave you in a loud guttural moan. Your hand firmly rested on his raven locks intertwining them in your fingers. 
“Please!Please! Please!”, his words were a mix of both moans and gasps as he felt you tighten around his fingers, his mouth parted as he saw and heard your wetness gliding out of you. 
Kylo whimpered once again as he felt you release on his face, as your essence dribbled down your legs and onto his mouth. He was drinking up everything that you were releasing, as he heard your panting and the soft grunts he was making himself, it was a pleasure he had craved for a long time now.  As you gathered your bearings and looked down at him. His face was completely dampened now with a mix of your own cum and squirt. He lapped at your clit once more savoring your shaken breathing and taste.
“You’re so pretty when you cry,” You spoke as your hand went to cup his pink cheeks.
Kylo’s head tilted backward as he moaned softly at your words and touch. He was in a state of complete bliss as he felt your wetness spread from his mouth down his jawline and neck. It became clear at that moment you had marked him with your scent, and he relished it.
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lokisprettygirl · 3 months
Text
Utopia (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x female reader) (Non Canon AU) (18+)
Read chapter 6 here // Series Masterlist
Chapter 7
Summary: Daemon eases your fears and worries.
Warning: 18+ sex ,period sex (if it bothers you skip the scene) death and destruction that comes from a ship wreckage, smut, sex, menstrual sex, unprotected sex. Some inconsistency with ship sinking, i researched as much as I could
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“Are you alright?” Emma's voice was filled with concern as she asked you if you were okay, noticing the distress that was evident on your face. The two of you had just left Lily's house, and Emma could sense the negative effect it had on you.
“I'm fine..just want to go home” Emma sighed as you said that. She could tell that you were not alright, but she didn't know how to help without you opening up to her.
“Y/n I know you have always liked him but him and Lily have always been this way..they fight, fuck other people and then get back to each other.. don't you remember how he treated you on the ship after he slept with you?” you turned your head to look at her as she said that. Emma's words had struck a chord in your heart, reminding you of the awful morning when Daemon had completely dismissed you post the one night stand .
“Yeah? Always huh? How many times have they survived a ship sinking incident before? How many times before Daemon was left stranded on an island with someone else? This is not the same thing..why it's so hard for you guys to understand” you got visibly agitated as you finished your sentence, your voice raised as you tried to express that you and Daemon weren't just a fling.
“I'm just trying to protect you..” she mumbled softly so you sighed.
“I know but I also know what I'm doing..do you have any idea what I have been through with Daemon on that Island? You can't just get over that stuff and move on with your life as if nothing happened. He …he knows me..I know him..six months ..we were .. everything to each other” your eyes teared up and you hated how weak you felt in the moment. You always felt this way whenever Daemon was in the picture.
“But he's not on that Island anymore and neither are you..he's back here in the actual world where Lily is”
You didn't say anything as she said that. After what Lily had said about him fucking her last night and seeing things from Emma's perspective you felt hurt and worried. You asked him clearly if he had fucked her and he said no, did he lie to you? Why would he lie to you and hurt you like that?
“Do you want me to find a job for you? Dalton was asking about you” she said as she pulled the car in your driveway so you took your seat belt off, you just wanted to go home and cry.
“Not right now, last time you hooked me up with a job ..things didn't work out so well”
You heard the literal gasp she let out as you jabbed at her. That was mean and uncalled for but anger was bubbling inside you at the moment and Daemon wasn't there to take it.
You entered your bedroom, exhausted from the emotional upheaval. As you collapsed onto your bed, you noticed a missed call and a few text messages from Daemon on your phone. Taking a deep breath, you picked up your phone and opened the message.
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You didn't want to ignore him and you certainly didn't want to hurt him by making assumptions about him, he told you something and you wanted to believe him but insecurities from the past ran deep and this wouldn't be the first time a man would cheat your trust like this. Instead of wrestling with your thoughts you dialed his number instead,
“Am I being ignored?” He asked as soon as he picked up so you sighed.
“Why would you say that?”
“What did she say to you..love?” his tone of voice made it clear that he was genuinely concerned.
“Where are you?” you asked him nonchalantly, your voice didn't really hold any emotion at the moment.
“I'm with my lawyer, had to discuss uhhh.. some fortune related complexities..are you back at your place?” He enquired so you barely hummed in response “Can I come see you?”
“You don't have to ask me” he chuckled as you said that,
“I'm trying to be more civilized and less of a caveman”
“Don't you want to go see Lily?” you asked him with sarcasm and envy dripping from your tone.
“Not right now, I want her to move on.. darling.. whatever she said to you that's making you all squeaky and snappy at me .. I will fix it yeah? And then you're going to fix me” you couldn't help but bite on your lip as his words made you feel slightly bashful.
“Okay” you could hear him smiling on the other end of the line as you mumbled a short response again.
Half an hour later as you opened the door and saw Daemon standing there, with his arms behind his back and a mischievous smirk on his face, you felt your heart skip a beat. The peach ribbed shirt he was wearing just added to his charm, it made you want to snuggle against him. Despite your feelings for him, the idea of him breaking your trust and lying to you was breaking your heart in ways you couldn't even begin to imagine.
The only reason why you weren't crying yourself to sleep for the past two days was because of him, the past month when you both were avoiding each other was difficult to say the least. The nightmares about drowning in the ocean had become a frequent occurrence, leaving you feeling frightened and restless. The fact that he was the only thing preventing you from giving in to the emotional distress that had been haunting you was both a comfort and a burden. But he was the only one who truly understood you because he was there suffering with you.
“Flowers for the beautiful lady” he held one of his hands forward to present you with a bouquet of beautiful flowers so you grabbed it and took in their scent “Chocolates” he then brought his other hand forward so you grabbed the box and went into your room, acting like a petulant child, it didn't do anything to deter him, he actually found you adorable like this.
He was expecting a kiss and a hug but this morning when you had told him that you were tagging along with Emma to visit Lily, he was terrified, not because he had anything to hide from you but because he knew as a matter of fact that she'd try to fill your head against him to drive wedge between you both. He was well aware of her vindictive ways when she was scorned like this.
“We need to stop meeting like that at your door” he mumbled as he entered the bedroom door and you were already on the bed with your face down into the pillow.
You felt his lips trail up from your calves to your hamstrings and he spent a good minute on your ass cheeks before he kissed up from the small of your back very slowly. Shivers ran down your spine as he moved up and pulled your hair aside to kiss your nape. You turned around to look at him and your teary eyes rendered his heart, your delicate features always softened him.
“If it wasn't for us being stranded on that Island you'd never date me would you?” You asked him as you caressed his cheeks with your fingers, you always feared that your connection with him was rooted in the shared trauma of the island and would fizzle soon.
“Yeah that might be true but not because there's something wrong with you or that you're not insanely attractive but because I wouldn't really get to know you like this..so intimately in every possible way”
You felt his fingers brush lightly against your chest, resting right above your heart, and you couldn't help but feel the burst of emotions.
His hand then drifted under your skirt as he leaned down to kiss you lovingly, palms wrapped around your hips as he pulled you into him so you sighed and closed your eyes to feel him close.
“You used to visit Paradise with Emma ” your eyes snapped open as he mentioned that.
Paradise was the name of the club The Dragonriders played at frequently and you used to go there on weekends before you even took the job on Utopia. “I'd often watch you dance from afar..you never even looked at me back then you know.. didn't even notice me” he mumbled softly in your ears so you cupped his cheeks again.
“I didn't know you..you were just a stranger”
“Exactly darling.. sometimes you have to learn the person inside out to truly appreciate them. I know i was unfair and cruel to you after that night we had spent together but it was my immaturity speaking..now i know better” you sighed as he said that, your hands sneaked inside his shirt as he leaned into you for a kiss again. He was irresistible at all times but especially when he was on top of you like this.
“You look cute in your pretty little skirt baby, my brave girl ..now are you going to sulk some more or you'd tell me what it is she said to you that is messing with your head?” he asked you, his voice was still gentle but firmer this time. You didn't want to beat around the bush either.
“She told me that you made love to her last night after you dropped her off and then later on she went into detail about how magical it was for both of you”
He looked at you intensely for a moment before he chuckled slightly as if he had it coming..
Somehow that reaction eased your fear, it was Lily's words against the man you had faced the worst of life with. If he was going to tell you that he hadn't fucked her then you'd have to believe him.
You'd have to put your faith in him because he deserved that much from you..
“Do you know why I came so hard inside you last night?” he asked you softly as his thumb brushed over your lips before he kissed you again.
“Whyy?”
“Because it has been a full day since I had done that.. since I had felt you around me so intimately. I might be an uncivilized animal at times but I'd never hurt you like that. Especially not you ..not after everything we have been through together”
You cupped his cheeks and your fingers ran through his scalp as he said that, his words felt sincere and a part of you believed him wholly, something made you believe that Daemon would never hurt you like that no matter what.
“You're not an uncivilized animal…just my big burly Cavemon” a smile graced his features as you cooed at him.
“Believe me yeah?”
“Okay.. sorry”
“Shhh it's not your fault..”
“No I'm sorry she said that about you and i believed her because I'm afraid and insecure”
“We all are at times..i fixed the problem..now you fix me” you giggled as he tickled your stomach with his fingers.
“Stahp ..it's almost my second day now..there will be clumps and stuff coming out of my goodies” he looked at you intently as you said that, his eyes darkened with consumable lust.
“If you intended for that to disgust me..it's not working”
“Your kinks are kinky..have you always had this one?” you questioned as you lifted your head up to kiss his neck.
“Not until you..”
“But you fucked your ex on her cycle”
“Not for the kink”
“It's just strange for me…my ex was disgusted just by me mentioning my period clumps”
“What an imbecile huh?
You giggled as you wrapped your legs around his waist and he made you sit up along with him.
“We are doing this my way today” you mumbled as you took your crop top and skirt off, Daemon got off the bed and he quickly undressed himself with the speed of lighting, when he climbed back on the bed you removed your underwear and threw it on the floor,
“You won't mind if I bleed on you right?”
“Fuck darling …noo” he almost moaned at the picture you had painted for him, you climbed on his lap and sat yourself down on his cock slowly, inch by inch, he wasn't really an average man in length or girth so you needed to go slow for your own sake, his legs splayed out on the bed as you submerged him completely and he placed his hands around your hips as you moved in circles slowly. His head swayed backwards and moans spilled from his throat as you worked your hips back and forth.
“I noticed you..” you mumbled against his mouth as you kissed him so he opened his eyes and looked at you all perplexed. He looked cute like this, all fucked out and pleasured the way he deserved to be pleasured.
“Mmm?”
“In the club..i noticed you..but you always had your eyes on her”
“Darling, do you believe in fate?” his voice came out in whispers as the sensation grew in the pit of his stomach,
“Not really”
“I do”
“Why?”
“I just do..I think it was fate that brought us together. Why do you think we were accommodated right next to each other when all the people we knew were a deck below from us?”
“Duuh management”
“Was it management that left us stranded together on that Island?” his fingers dug into your hips as he helped you hop on top of him.
“No it was my stupidity”
“Mmm really? You want to tell me that those strong waves somehow managed to bring us together on that very same island where we collapsed not even six feet apart from each other because of you? And both of us miraculously lived through it while none of those other people survived?”
“I don't know what to say..you're romanticizing the tragedy” his fingers curled into your hair and he pulled you closer to kiss you before he spoke,
“I have earned the right to do so ..now be a good girl and fucking cum with me”
You kissed him hungrily and the rest of the rebuttals you had didn't really come out as you fell apart in his arms as soon as you felt his warm cum filling you up to the brim. He placed his head on your chest as you both recovered from the euphoria but it lasted a good while.
Your head felt fuzzy as you had never been fucked this good, sex had never been so satisfying before. It was as if your body connected to him on a much deeper level than just physical, sex with him transcended you and filled you with intense emotional and mental release.
“If you pull out right now I'd ruin my bed so take me to the shower alright?” He chuckled briefly before he dragged his shapely arse off the bed and took you to the bathroom. He turned the shower on and as soon as he pulled out, his cum mixed with your blood spilled out of your freshly fucked cunt. His cock was absolutely bloody as well and you heard him gasp as he glanced at it. His fingers immediately caressed your lips as he cleaned the mess between your legs so you fisted his cock and returned the favor.
“I missed one therapy session and I was a major bitch to Emma this morning” you mumbled as you came back to reality from the mind numbing orgasm you had experienced just now..
“What did you do?”
“You know how they keep telling us in therapy to not blame other people for what happened as it was nobody's fault?” He nodded as you said that while he rubbed the body wash between his palm and turned you around to scrub your back.
“I think I did just that and I feel awful”
“Mmmm then apologize sweetheart and talk it out…these things happen amongst friends. I called Cole this morning to wish him for the birthday and we had a chat, he understands me better now”
“It's his birthday today?”
“Yup and we are invited, I'm sure he'd text you about it”
You hummed as he said that, as you placed your head down on his chest he wrapped his arms around you while you two enjoyed the hot shower in the comfort of your bathroom. Sometimes when you closed your eyes you imagined yourself being back at the island with him but you were only thinking about the times that weren't so awful, like bathing with him in the sea and walking around the woods in search for fruits, and most of all sleeping all huddled together on the bed of leaves every night.
You missed that, you really did miss it at times.
“Daemon?’
“What would you like for your birthday?” you asked him as you realized it would come soon as well, you were on the island when you turned 27, he had gone out of his way to collect fresh coconut water and had made a fruit platter for you which was more than enough on that forsaken place.
“I want your trust and faith in me” you turned around as he said that and kissed him softly.
Besides he was planning something to surprise you with instead, he had a meeting with his lawyer for the same reason and his lawyer certainly didn't think it was a great idea to go forward with this but he knew he wanted to do this, for both of you.
“And i want to take you somewhere with me” he said to you
“Mmmm where?” You giggled as your heart skipped a beat. You just hoped he wasn't going to take you to meet his family just yet. It felt too soon for that.
“It's going to be a surprise, hence the trust and faith demand“
“I trust you baby” his lips curved into a sweet smile as you said that.
The plan moving forward was to take a nap with him and it was very cozy until he began shivering in his sleep, telltale sign of a nightmare and you knew what it was about, it was about that night in the woods that he had spent all alone without you, he deeply struggled with the memory of the night and it was very hard on him so you know he was reliving the same trauma in his sleep. Or that's what you thought.
You didn't know that he was having a nightmare but not about being stranded in the woods but about you being bitten by that spider, he always had a nightmare about that night where instead of you being alright the next morning he saw your dead lifeless body and he was left all alone without his brave girl by his side.
When he woke up he pretended as if he wasn't affected by the nightmare in the slightest and asked you to get ready as you were both invited to the Paradise for Cole's birthday. Luckily Lily wasn't there because of her injury but the group had decided to visit her post drinking.
When you reached hand in hand with him, it felt a little awkward, people who recognised you kept staring and you felt like an animal in the zoo. The attention was uncomfortable, as you just wanted to blend in with the other people and enjoy the evening without the scrutiny.
Life had changed in more ways than one, at times you were not even Daemon or y/n, you were just that couple that was stranded on an island for six months. Whenever you were out in public, people would inevitably make reference to your story, and you found yourself being treated like a celebrity. You felt objectified though as if there was nothing more to you anymore than what you had suffered.
After greeting Cole as you spotted Emma you walked towards her.
“How's D?” She asked you so you looked at her confused for a moment.
“Daemon? He's doing okay umm-”
“No the Dick..how's his dick..is it as good as rumored?” she asked you as she crossed her arms so you pulled her into a hug.
“I'm sorry em.. I'm so sorry for being such a bitch when you were just looking out for me”
Your eyes teared up as you spoke to her so she hugged you as tightly as you were hugging her.
“It's okay..I get that..they tell me not to take it personally..you both have been through something none of us can imagine living through” you looked down as she said that.
“That's not an excuse to lash out but I'll be careful i promise..now let's get drunk..it's been a while and you're going to reveal every tea about Aemond” she blushed bright red as you whispered the last part in her ear. You were happy for her, she deserved someone making her happy and gleeful like this.
A band was performing in the club and you noticed how Daemon kept looking at them while they played as if wondering about his own time on the stage, you knew he missed singing and being up there.
Afterwards when the group decided to go see Lily you chose to opt out but Daemon insisted and pleaded until you gave in, perhaps seeing him with you would finally make her back off a little bit and she'd realize that Daemon has moved on from their toxic relationship.
However as you all turned up at her place you saw a man leaving her house, you recognised him even though nobody else did, it was one of the major crew members at Queen Utopia, Danny something, you didn't remember his full name but he was the man Lily was with that night. He handled the maintenance of the cargo area.
As he walked past you he looked you right in the eye, you saw something in those eyes but you couldn't put your finger on it.
They always told you to not put blame on anyone as the tragedy was nobody's fault but what if it was somebody's fault? And what if it was Danny who had something to do with it?
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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libraryofgage · 8 months
Text
Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Four
Part One | Part Two | Part Three
Hi hi! It's been kind of a long week for me lmao but here's the next part! You'll def wanna stick around to the very end of the post; there's a very fun surprise for y'all lol
Also! If you like my writing or want to see a quicker update of this or another series, I've opened commissions (student loans are hitting a lot harder than I expected orz). If you're interested, you can find more information in this post
Even if you don't commission me, I appreciate your likes/comments/reblogs of my work! They keep me going and make me really happy ^_^
Anyway, now for the good stuff. As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Sinking a ship takes skill, intense planning, and strong tails. Or, if you're Robin and seven guppies, it takes incredible, unbridled rage and a worry that could kill a Kraken. A ship that should take half the day to sink only takes the group two hours, their tails bashing against the hull and claws ripping planks to let seawater surge inside. Dustin is particularly brutal, recruiting Lucas and Mike to help him use the same net that caught him and took Steve to drag the ship beneath the waves.
Between tending to Dustin's wounds, lying to the pod about why they're going to be away for a while, and actually tracking the damned thing, it took Robin and the guppies a few days to catch up to the ship. And as they scavenge the drowned wreckage, pushing past broken doors and through holes in the hull, it becomes increasingly clear that they're too late.
"Where could he be?!" Dustin shouts, his gills flaring and bubbles rising in an enraged pattern above him. He takes a spear and jabs it into a water-bloated plank. "If he's not here, that means he escaped, right? So why hasn't he found us yet?"
"Steve could have been taken by another ship," El points out, her head poking from behind a mast. She's gained a dagger with a jewel-encrusted hilt and is currently using her nails to dig the jewels out and drop them into a seaweed bag.
Robin frowns, swimmingly anxiously in circles. She's not the one that's good with guppies. That's Steve. If she's the fun caretaker that encourages them to play Scuttlefish with sharks, Steve is the one a tail's-length behind dragging them back to the pod before they can get hurt. He's the one who knows how to keep the guppies calm and healthy. Robin is the one who keeps them energetic and chaotic.
"He was definitely here," Will says, swimming out from a cabin on the ship. He stops in front of Robin and holds his hands out, letting her see the dull, blood-stained scales sitting in his palms.
With a shaking hand, Robin takes the scales and turns them over, hoping they're somehow not Steve's. But he's her partner. Robin could recognize him by the flick of his tail alone. So, of course, she knows they're Steve's scales at a glance.
She turns, her tail creating a small current that brushes over the guppies and forces them to look at her. "If he's not on this one," she says, "then we'll just keep sinking ships until we find him."
"Let's start with the other ship," Erica says.
"The other ship?" Robin asks.
Erica nods, pointing in the direction they'd just come from. "A few leagues before we found this one, I saw another one that was sailing in the other direction. Maybe they crossed paths."
For a brief moment, Robin wonders how she missed the other ship. But then she remembers how she's been caught between her own worries and keeping the guppies from spiraling, and she gives herself a break. "Yeah," she says, nodding as she closes her fingers over the scales. The edges cut into her palms but don't draw blood. "Let's go track down that ship. But don't keep something like that from me next time."
The guppies all nod in agreement, and Robin looks at the wreckage around them. She's half-tempted to let the guppies loot the rest of the ship, but she knows they're all aching to find Steve already. So, Robin herds them away from the sunken ship in the direction Erica pointed and hopes Steve can hold on for just a little longer.
----
Excerpt from "The Lovelorn Fool's Guide to Merfolk Courtship"
Song Types
There are several song types that merfolk are likely to use in their lifetime. While the human ear cannot distinguish the intricacies of the songs, it can tell the major categories apart.
As newly-born guppies, they know only how to vocalize wordless sounds based on their needs. These sounds are referred to as Guppy Songs. These songs are generally lacking in any real melody or rhythm. They are rough and unskilled, but many caretakers consider them precious.
Pod songs are shared tunes and melodies among the pod to communicate big news. When hearing a pod song from a lone merperson, it will sound incomplete. Pod songs usually require at least one other merperson to support or respond to the initial measures, which creates a complete and satisfying loop.
Individual songs are varied and unique, as the name suggests. They cover a range of emotions that simply can't be communicated through regular speech or bubble patterns (to learn more about bubble patterns, please see Part I: The Basics). Among these songs, the most important to know is the courting song, which can actually be multiple songs using the same opening measures and melodies with slightly different tones.
Now that you know the most basic kind of songs, we can move to harmonizing. Truthfully, a human's ability to harmonize with a merperson is nearly impossible. However, it can be done with an instrument, which can reach ranges the human voice cannot. So, if you don't know how to play one, I'd suggest learning. Harmonizing is a key step in the courtship process, after all.
----
Steve shrieks as Eddie spins him around, the sound high and grating, and clings tighter to Eddie's neck. His tailfin slaps Eddie behind his knee, hard enough to make him falter and slip on the rain-soaked deck. He falls on his ass, Steve safely in his lap, and laughs. The charms in his hair knock against each other, and Steve idly reaches up to brush his finger against one. "What was that for?" Eddie asks, the words slightly breathless.
"You surprised me," Steve says, frowning slightly as raindrops catch in his eyelashes and make them heavy. He holds a hand above his eyes and then does the same for Eddie.
"You just looked so pretty, sweetheart," Eddie says, grinning at Steve like he knows what bubble pattern his fluttering gills would create (flustered and flattered).
He rolls his eyes, looking at the sky and sea in the distance. The ocean is surging, and waves and sea foam collide as the wind picks up force. Dark clouds hang over the sea, and Steve would be concerned if he didn't know the storm would clear up soon. He can tell from the sound of the ocean and the taste in the air: the water isn't angry enough and there isn't enough salt on his lips.
The rain is still going to turn brutal, though, and Steve would prefer they weren't on deck when it happens. He overheard Asher and Jeff talking about the last time Eddie got soaked to the bone and got sick. He's not sure what a "cold" is, but he doesn't want Eddie catching it again.
"Let's go back to the cabin," he says, looking back at Eddie with a light smile. "I want to hear you play that, uh, gee-tare."
"Guitar, Stevie," Eddie corrects, holding Steve tight as he stands. He has an excited smile, something expectant in his eyes that Steve still hasn't figured out.
Steve hums, knowing very well how it's pronounced, but he likes to see the somewhat dopey smile Eddie gets whenever he mispronounces something. He gets the feeling Eddie also knows he's doing it on purpose, but he's not said anything yet.
Eddie carries him down to the captain's cabin, kicking the door shut with his foot. "Where do you want to be, sweetheart?" he asks.
After a moment's consideration, Steve gestures to the bed, looking forward to the soft pillows and even softer sheets. When Eddie places him down, he wiggles until his tail is curled comfortably, soaking the sheets beneath him, and looks at Eddie expectantly.
"Any requests?" Eddie asks, clearly amused as he grabs his guitar and hops onto the bed next to Steve. His knee brushes against Steve's tail, drawing Steve's attention briefly to the faint scar that lingers across his scales.
He's been healed for almost a day now, and Steve should probably start bracing himself to say goodbye, but he'd like to remain in denial a little longer. He doesn't want to leave. Even if he knows he'll come right back with Robin and the guppies, Steve doesn't want to be away from Eddie that long. They haven't even confirmed their courtship. Leaving before they do means any merperson with half a brain could see how much of a pearl Eddie is and try to steal him away.
Steve forces the thought away, forces himself to focus on answering Eddie's question, and shakes his head. "Just play something," he says.
Eddie nods and thinks a moment as he tunes the guitar. "Could you hum something?" he asks.
When he looks up at Steve again, there's something oddly intense in his gaze. He looks determined, as though something very important is riding on this moment. Steve isn't sure what it is, exactly, but he knows he doesn't want it to pass him by. Steve nods and starts humming a soft and familiar tune, one he's used a lot more after meeting Eddie.
It must be the right choice, because Eddie practically lights up, a grin tugging at his lips and crinkling the corners of his eyes as he listens. After a few seconds, he starts plucking strings on the guitar, adding a gentle accompaniment that makes Steve's humming rock back and forth like the ocean currents.
Usually, Eddie plays fast, his music filling Steve with the same heat and energy as an underwater volcano in the middle of an eruption. But this is slow and sweet like the honey Steve tried a few days ago. It creeps through him, his gills fluttering with each note that Eddie pulls from his guitar. He feels soft and happy, his voice shifting to follow Eddie's lead as inspiration hits him.
They trade the lead back and forth between them, and Steve starts to actually sing at some point. He doesn't know when he opened his mouth and started to vocalize the notes instead of just humming them, a sweet melody forming as his voice resonates with the guitar. It just happens as naturally as swimming. Steve can no longer tell where his voice ends and the guitar begins. They've fallen into sync, strumming and singing together without missing a beat.
Steve leans closer, his heart pounding against his ribs even faster than usual. They're harmonizing. He realizes it suddenly, but it doesn't catch him off-guard. It's just a whisper in the back of his mind, a little nudge that makes him smile and move without thinking beyond the desire to be closer.
The song doesn't end naturally. In fact, Eddie is in the middle of a particularly lovely string of notes when Steve kisses him, still humming low in his throat. Eddie's fingers fumble, a sour note pulling from the guitar, but Steve doesn't care. He's too busy wrapping one hand around the back of Eddie's neck and placing the other on Eddie's chest.
He can feel Eddie's heart beating just as rapidly as his own, and Steve presses closer. He's barely balancing on his tail as Eddie moves the guitar from his lap, pushing it to the side of the bed while he kisses Steve back. Eddie pushes his hand into Steve's hair, tangling his fingers in the strands.
Steve's humming happily rises in pitch, and he finally loses his balance, his weight pressing entirely on Eddie and causing him to fall back on the bed. The kiss breaks when Eddie bounces slightly, their foreheads knocking together, and Steve can't help laughing.
"You're fucking gorgeous, sweetheart," Eddie whispers, his free hand trailing to Steve's waist and settling on his back. His fingers brush against the line where scales meet skin, and Steve shudders, his mouth going dry, and he kisses Eddie again before he can say another word.
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Tag List (the tag list is full! I wasn't able to fit everyone, so if you aren't on here, I'd suggest following #high seas steddie. I think you should still get updates on your dash if you do)
@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7
@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense, @ellietheasexylibrarian, @haelreadsshit, @y4r3luv, @starman-jpg, @littlewildflowerkitten, @estrellami-1, @stevieschrodinger, @gaelicblue, @they-reap-what-we-sow
@5ammi90, @noodle-shenaniganery, @acrolius, @hallelujahimatheist, @rainbow-freckle, @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @79chevyimpala, @aliea82, @hopefulcookieoperatorpersona, @sani-86, @queenie-ofthe-void, @goosesister, @hello-fellow-nerds, @luthienstormblessed, @xtkxkrzrizir, @potato-of-the-lord, @geekymagicalpotato, @child-of-cthulhu, @aizawa-emma, @m-owo-n, @newtstabber, @cartercaptainofthemoon, @spectrum-spectre, @a-little-unsteddie
And, if you've made it this far, here's a little meme for your entertainment
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bo0tleg · 1 month
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Despite being head over heels in love with Ice and Mav's dynamic in the original Top Gun, the same dynamic in Top Gun Maverick with Rooster and Hangman never worked for me. This is my attempt at voicing why:
DISCLAIMER: This was not created with the intention to offend anybody who ships Hangster/Sereshaw. It is simply my understanding of their relationship, and why it doesn't appeal to me. Opinions are like the butthole, everybody has their own. By all means, continue shipping them if you want to, this is only for fun.
Hangman and Rooster's entire relationship is based on resentment.
Unlike Mav and Ice, they have history. There's something from the past that lingers in all of their interactions, poisoning all of their words and actions.
Hangman is frustrated with Rooster, all the time. Of course, he banters with everyone, Phoenix about her gender, Bob about his callsign, but those are more 5th Grader Playground insults than anything. It's different with Rooster, and not in a good way.
When it comes to Rooster, Hangman goes straight to insult his character. He doubts his judgement, insults his way of being and flying, prods about how he needs to change if he wants to fly the mission.
With Ice, he was criticizing Maverick, not insulting him. Hangman is both criticizing AND insulting Rooster because he perceives him in a less that ideal light.
Hangman doesn't understand why Rooster flies the way that he does, and doesn't try to either. He just sees it as wrong and doesn't think twice about it. He goes straight to insulting him because he thinks that it's wrong, and that it's something about Rooster that needs to be fixed.
And Rooster is constantly exasperated because of it. Hangman prods, and jabs, and insults Rooster, but it never works. The more Hangman pokes, the more Rooster closes up, frustrated. He gets angry, pissed and becomes much LESS inclined to listen to anything Hangman is saying.
Rooster doesn't work well under pressure. And that's the only way Hangman operates.
Throughout the movie, Rooster doesn't listen to Hangman once. He might've been right about Rooster being too slow, but it only fell on deaf ears (not to say that he was right to bring up Goose's death, he was defo wrong about that one). All it causes is strife, to the point where Rooster almost punches Hangman because of how infuriating he was to him.
The entire movie, Hangman provoked Rooster to get him to stop being the way he is, because he sees it as a flaw of character. And it doesn't work.
Rooster only drops his need for playing it safe when Maverick tells him to 'Not think, just do'. Because Mav only gave him a push in the right direction, not throw in his face all of his flaws.
(Side note: This is also the reason Rooster doesn't listen to Mav in their argument, because he thinks Maverick was insulting his way of being by saying he wasn't ready. On the mission, by selecting Rooster as his wingman, he recognizes that he is ready, and that he trusts him with his life. Making him more inclined to listen to Mav once in the canyon.)
A relationship where one person is constantly frustrated by the other and the other is constantly exasperated by the former doesn't work.
Because that's how they are, and that's how they function, and it isn't going to change.
Rooster isn't going to stop frustrating Hangman because that's how he works, and Hangman isn't going to stop making Rooster exasperated because he doesn't know how else to voice his feelings.
I can see where the ship comes from, because obviously. Their homoerotic tension could be seen from space. I totally believe that they might have had a fling in the past that ended badly, and that they possibly could have hooked up at some point in the movie in the 'Hate Sex' vein of things. I just don't think it'd be anything beyond that.
They wouldn't work in the long haul, is what I'm trying to say.
They're too similar, and too different at the same time.
They're both hothead stubborn motherfuckers that couldn't come to an agreement if they tried.
And you might show me the scene where Hangman is happy about Dagger 2 hitting the target, and him being absolutely devastated when the same hornet is shot down. I recognize it, it demonstrates care. Hangman cares.
Thing is, that doesn't change anything that I said prior to that.
It's possible to resent, despise, be bitter towards and irritated by someone and still care about them. It's possible to hate them and still care. Hate them, and feel like you don't hate them all the time. Human emotion is a funny thing like that, nothing is ever black and white, always varying shades of gray.
Just because they hate each other (and yes, that is the reading I have on them, doesn't stop them from being horny fuckers about each other tho) doesn't mean they want the other dead.
I believe it's similar to the sentiment of "I hope you get everything you ever wished for, and that I never hear a word about it". Similar, but not the same, in a way I do not know how to describe. Thus, I used that to give the same vibe.
I can't see any future for them, in any shape or form. They hold too many grudges against each other, and both of them have a tendency of holding on to old (bad) feelings far too strongly. Even if they work through whatever problems they have now, new ones would emerge and they would go through the same process again and again and again.
That isn't healthy nor stable. It's not what either of them should strive for in a relationship. With that, I'd probably say that both of them need stable people that hold logic to high regard, and that are easy going (I say that in general terms, with no one specific in mind for either of them).
All that being said, this is my opinion. This is how I view them, and understand their relationship. They don't work for me because I see no logical way they could.
If they work for you, that's great! Enjoy the air gays 2.0 to your hearts contentment, I'm happy for you.
This was just a fun analysis of my vision, with no intention to diminish anyone who might enjoy them.
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iceicewifey · 4 months
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this includes those that prefer oc x canon, self inserts, etc. of course 💗
when i say 'ship lore' i mean stuff like how you/your oc met your f/o(s), how or if you/your oc affect the universe's canon, fankids—all kinds of stuffs like that. i don't only mean lore that's been written out, any lore you have that stays in your mind counts. and no, you don't need lore for your ship(s) to be valid. this is in no way a jab at anyone, i'm just curious. ;v;
pls rb after voting!
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