#fixated very heavily on both these guys
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There are too many things that are relevant to my interests going on and as a result I am in a weird haze where I want to do everything and thus I do nothing.
#not a reblog#i mean look if yesterday's dw special had aired like 10 years ago i would have absolutely EXPLODED#dt AND nph??? like yeah i would not have survived#fixated very heavily on both these guys#and ALSO while i have mouse channel streaming i can go watch the show about the trickster guy since i haven't gotten around to that yet#which of course features another actor i fixated on#and THEN i recently found the jekyll & hyde musical with shin sung rok on spotify#on top of all this is the comfort youtube channel with its almost daily releases#and then maybe getting to FINALLY do d&d things like i've wanted to do basically all my life thanks to a program starting up at the library#and THAT has made my brain go 'hey remember this character you made a while back based on a side character in a terrible movie?'#and unrelated to all of that i want to replay thousand year door#and i still have the goal of getting through fnaf books#so honestly brain just has no clue what to settle on#...wow this is a lot of tags#if you actually read them you get a cookie
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Could I request kissing headcanons for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor?
anon i just loved thinking about how these guys kiss. i had to keep this to a medium length because 1. i could literally go on forever and 2. there are barely any others ways to say the word kiss without sounding silly. i typed the word kiss so many times it stopped looking like a real word.
that being said i hope you like it!!!!
Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Kissing
can i get through one simple request without making sexual suggestions? the answer is no. MDNI/18+
How the tiefling boys kiss you
Dammon:
Gosh I could think of so many ways Dammon shares his love with kissing.
Sweet kisses where he holds your face in both of his hands and just presses his lips against yours again and again and again.
Unhurried, lusty kisses with one hand on your hip, the other lightly on your neck while his tongue enters your mouth to tease you.
Quick, tiny pecks throughout the day just to feel his lips on yours, even if it’s just for a second.
Tired kisses in the middle of the night when he wakes up needing to feel your lips!!!
I feel like Dammon is totally the type of guy to always smile into a kiss. Doesn’t matter if it’s a chaste smooch or something more heated, he’s happiest when your lips are locked and he’s not afraid to show it!
He can’t help but love the way you taste against his mouth. It’s addicting to him, and it reminds me of how other parts of you taste.
So, no surprise here that kissing often leads to other activities, if you catch my drift.
A little bit of me thinks it’s a part of an oral fixation; he really likes using his mouth for the purpose of pleasure.
And boy does he have a talented tongue.
But also, he’s a romantic at heart! And he devotes himself, heart and soul, to his partner – wanting to show love to them however possible. Kissing is just an easy, natural way to do it.
Of course, he’s learned how to let his emotions flow through his lips.
Rolan:
Okay first. Angry kisses. Rolan, frustrated with you for whatever reason, pulling you against him roughly. Holding your jaw tightly. Kissing you firmly as though it may ease some of his anger. His angry kisses are slow and methodical as he works through his more stubborn emotions.
I imagine those kisses lead to more, a lot of the time.
He seems like the type of person to equate any type of strong emotion with kissing though.
Annoyed? He pins you against the wall just quickly shut you up with one long kiss, hands at your waist.
Happy? He pulls you in with his tail around your wrist, to place little pecks all over your face until you’re both giggling.
Sad? He clings to you for dear life. Caging you in with his arms and just holding you against his mouth with only minimal movement, only wanting to feel you, to know you’re real and there with him.
I see him as someone that doesn’t do very salacious kisses unless it’s in the bedroom. He doesn’t care to be seen with his tongue down your throat by anyone (except maybe if you get him drunk enough, but even then, it’s a long shot), so he saves that for when you’re alone.
But when you are? He loves to suck on your tongue. Love when you kitten lick into his mouth to get his lips open.
Whereas Dammon is a smiley kisser, Rolan is a “brow furrowed in concentration” kisser. CHANGE MY MIND.
Zevlor:
Zevlor is a reserved kisser a lot of the time.
Trying to get this man to give you any more than a quick peck when you’re out and about is near impossible.
He’s just old fashioned, an honorable guy, and he thinks those kinds of things are best done in private – to be enjoyed only by the two involved.
Every once in a while, he will indulge just a bit further. He’ll put his hands on your hips and let his lips linger just a little longer than normal. But this is heavily dependent upon where he is, who he’s with, etc.
And it always ends with him flushing such a pretty shade of deep red.
When you are alone? Listen. Zevlor can be a filthy kisser.
He tilts your head back so he can angle you in the right way to open your lips with his tongue, massaging yours with a wet, open mouth. He kisses like he goes down on you: messy in the best of ways.
These kisses aren’t even always saved for the bedroom either. Sometimes he wants to kiss you passionately, just because.
Of course, he has soft, romantic kisses too. He’s the kind of man to settle your worries with a kiss.
An anchoring kiss when he surrounds you – so that you can lose yourself in his embrace, forgetting about the outside world.
A calming kiss when you need a distraction – so he can pull you out of thoughts for a moment to focus on his lips.
It’s like any fear or problem you have, Zevlor can fix it with his lips. Or his tongue.
#bg3#bg3 dammon#bg3 zevlor#bg3 rolan#bg3 smut#my writing#dammon#zevlor#rolan#requests/suggestions#dammon x reader#zevlor x reader#rolan x reader#anon#hcs
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Kiss
Summary: Colt has a bit of an oral fixation...
A/N: The Fall Guy is my new favourite thing and I personally would gnaw on Colt Seavers like a chew toy.
Colt x afab reader <3
As per usual, it's NSFW 18+ @ken-dom as always my darling, I thank you for your support and inspiration and late night chats.
There will certainly be more Seavers in the very near future ;) but for now, be gentle, I'm no stunt man
Enjoy my loves <3
There was a heavy knock on your trailer door before it clicked open and Colt ducked inside.
His shaggy blond hair falling in his face as he smiled that smile that made you weak in the knees.
He was covered from head to toe in dirt and dust in your favourite outfit; jeans with both knees ripped out and a dirty white t-shirt and work boots in his Miami Vice stunt team jacket.
“Hi” you smiled, as his large arms slipped around your waist, pulling you against him.
Your arms snaked around his neck, his skin warm and sun kissed against your forearms.
“Hi” he whispered before claiming your lips in a heated gentle kiss. He pushed you back gently against the small counter. You moaned softly against his mouth as he sucked on your bottom lip making your stomach flutter.
His teeth pulled gently on your lip before your tongue tangled with his, returning his kiss with just as much fervor.
He boosted you up on the small ledge, his fingers sliding under the hem of your shirt, squeezing gently, grazing over the smooth skin of the small of your back.
The walkie talkie at the end of the counter crackled with chatter, Dan was looking for you.
You pushed Colt back gently, prying your lips from his, albeit reluctantly, leaning to reach the small radio. Colt paid it no mind whatsoever, opting to continue his assault. His beard scratched over your skin as his teeth nipped along the length of your neck as he mumbled protests.
Holding his shoulder for support, you leaned further, fingers just brushing against the walkie talkie as he sucked harshly at the hollow of your collarbone.
You gasped, squeezing his shoulder “Colt, please-” you strained to reach the radio as Dan called again, knocking it over.
You giggled as his bangs tickled against your cheek, his hand closing around your wrist pulling you back to him.
“Nn-no” you protested as his frame enveloped yours as he turned you to face him, still stretched over the length of the counter, his weight heavy on top of you as he cupped your cheek, his lips finding yours as you protested half heartedly.
Your breath caught in your throat against his mouth as you felt yourself slip from the countertop; his strong arm locking around your back kept you from falling to the floor as your arms instinctively wrapped around his broad shoulders.
You break your kiss a second time, panting heavily against his neck as you try again to protest.
“Colt” you breathed hard as he moaned against your neck, but made no effort to lift his head; instead his perfect teeth leaving love bites down your throat, leading down toward your cleavage.
You whined pathetically as his warm tongue licked over your skin. Your entire body going limp in his arms, fingernails scratching against the nape of his neck. He knew just how to push your buttons.
His free hand pulling the deep v neck of your t-shirt down even further as he dragged his nose between your cleavage.
“Oh my-” you gasped, licking your lips as he hummed with approval; the support of the counter under you was gone, his arm across your back and one unsteady foot barely touching the floor between his boots, keeping you suspended where he wanted.
There was a loud knock on the door of the trailer, Dan's booming voice coming from the other side.
“Colt you better not be in there!”
That stopped him in his tracks, but he only looked up at you from his place between your breasts, his blue eyes meeting yours with a mischievous glint as he stood rooted to the spot.
You bit your lips together, fighting back a laugh as Colt winked at you but didn't move.
You squeezed your eyes shut laughing quietly as Colt moved to start sucking on your overheated skin.
You grit your teeth pushing him gently by the shoulder but you knew it was in vain. “Stop it” you whispered harshly.
“He's not here Dan!” You yelled and Colt's head shot up
“Shhhh” Colt frowned up at you
“He knows I'm in here” you whispered harshly
Colt just rolled his eyes
“Check the coffee cart!’ you yelled, your fingers twisting in his mop of tangled hair.
“Mhm” was Dan's unbelieving, muffled reply.
Colt only snorted into your cleavage and you pulled on the thick strands of his hair hard, making him growl low in the back of his throat.
He stood up straight, pulling you with him before he sank to his knees in front of you, his hands pushing up the thin fabric of your shirt, he kissed a trail over your bare stomach; both your hands on either side of his head, threading through his hair.
His nimble fingers working open the button of your jeans before he slid them down your legs along with your panties.
You rested against the counter, your eyes fluttering closed as you felt him lean in closer to your core.
Your heart thudded loudly in your ears as his calloused hands slid back up the length of your now bare thighs.
He let out a soft moan as you scratched against his scalp a second time, his head dipping to lick a hot stripe between your thighs.
You cried out, your knees instantly buckled as you threw your head back.
Colt slid a hand under the back of your thigh, hooking your knee over his left shoulder to move himself closer.
You balanced against the counter on one foot as he slid underneath you, his hands firmly on your hips.
He moaned against your slick folds making you whine with need over his head; both your hands holding his head still as he fucked you with his tongue.
Your weight rested heavily against his shoulder as you bucked your hips, grinding against him as his beard scratched the inside of your thigh, only adding to your bliss.
“Holy fuck” you swallowed hard, eliciting another moan between your thighs.
You dropped your chin against your neck as his tongue flicked over that oversensitive bundle of nerves.
“Colt g-god” you whimpered unashamedly as he lapped at your leaking core, desperate to push you over the edge.
His fingers gripped your hips with a painful need, his short fingernails biting into your flesh.
His tongue skilfully working between your folds. The entirety of your weight threatening to collapse on him knelt in front of you.
You shuddered over him and he moaned under you, knowing you were close.
“Colt I-” you squeezed your eyes shut, struggling to find the words. You hummed, biting down hard on your bottom lip.
You gasped, trying again failing miserably stumbling over his name a second time “C-Colt”
He simply moaned with agreement devouring you like you were his last meal….and if Dan got ahold of him you probably would be.
You moaned, desperate and needy over his head, fisting chunks of his thick hair. “Colt” you breathed.
Again, he moaned against your core with agreement, not even bothering to come up for air.
“Mhm, mhm, mhm” he attempted a nod, but your grip in his hair made it difficult.
All at once the one knee holding you steady, buckled, Colt's grip on your hips tightening instantly to keep you stationary as you yanked hard on the hair between your fingers, thrusting your hips shamelessly, grinding against him, fucking his face, quite literally riding out your orgasm as he lapped up and sucked every last drop.
You nearly collapsed against the counter as he eased your leg from off his shoulder and got to his feet, an impressive hard on, pressing wet against his jeans.
Barely giving you a chance catch your breath and come down from your high he claimed your mouth in a desperate kiss; his entire face wet with your slick.
You reached between you, ripping his jeans open and shoving your hand inside, fingers wrapping around his throbbing, leaking shaft.
He pulled his mouth from yours, his breath hot and heavy against your neck as he growled through grit teeth, his cock twitching hard in your fingers. Precum spilling from the tip, dripping over your hand.
His teeth sank into your neck, making you whimper and squeeze him harder. He bit so hard on the little hollow under your ear you thought for sure he would pierce skin before he sucked hard, you had no doubt, forming a dark purple bruise in his wake.
His entire body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat.
You pulled his cock free, stroking him gently.
Leaning next to his ear you breathed hard after running your tongue along his jaw.
“Mark me” you whispered, his cock twitched again and he bucked his hips with a groan. “Then fuck my mouth”
Again, his teeth sank into your neck, this time he did pierce your skin making you cry out with a moan against his shoulder.
You sank to your knees in the small space, immediately hollowing your cheeks and taking his entire throbbing length into your mouth.
The deep groan over your head making your core throb as his massive hands gathered your hair into a snarled ponytail, the head of his cock bumping the back of your throat as he fought to keep himself in check.
Your hands dropped in your lap as you let him take complete control, his hips moving slowly at first as you moaned around his length. Until you looked up at him from under your lashes with a small quiet moan.
His eyes locked on yours and all at once his hips thrust forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat with enough force to make you choke slightly, but he didn't stop.
His grip on your hair tightened as he did what you'd asked, fucked your mouth.
You let him slide over your tongue effortlessly as he breathed heavily through his nose and muttered “Fuck”
You moaned around him, which only egged him on, coating your tongue with the beginning of his release.
His hips snapped hard and you moaned approvingly before he stumbled over his own words. “C-come I'm g-nnnuh”
Before you had a chance to acknowledge the flurry of noises over your head, Colt grunted and his thick hot release filled your mouth and just like he had, you sucked and swallowed everything he had to give.
He braced himself on the counter as you let him slide from your mouth before wiping the back of your hand across your lips and got to your feet.
You both put yourselves back together, and you buttoned your jeans as Colt's arms slipped back around his waist. Both of you still catching your breath.
He kissed across your face and down your neck, his teeth marks prominent, red and angry against your tanned skin. He kissed it gently before continuing along your jaw.
You hummed with protest as your hands slid up his back. “You're insatiable,” you giggled “Take up gum chewing or something”
He shook his head gently, “Uh huh,” his mouth barely pulling away to speak as continued to pepper your neck and face with kisses before his lips found yours, “Kiss more first…” he muttered against your lips, kissing you gently before he pulled back as you giggled.
“Control yourself, Seavers”
“Never” he shook his head pushing you back against the counter to once again lose his nose in your cleavage. His mouth sucking and nipping at the mounds of your flesh.
You pushed him back gently with a laugh surveying the bright red bite marks he left behind.
“God, can you at least hide them better?” You smirked as he leaned over you, you cupped his cheek, pulling him to you.
“I could,” he shrugged in between kisses “But I don't want to”
You rolled your eyes, pushing his bangs back off his forehead as he leaned over you. “I miss your long hair” you whispered as he leaned forward to kiss the tip of your nose.
“Wanna go do some donuts?”
“You mean go make out in your truck instead of in here?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
“And maybe a couple of donuts,” he shrugged. When you didn't answer right away he continued “I'll start growing my hair out” he smiled
You smiled and draped your arms around his neck as he pulled you up from the counter. “How can I say no to that?”
He shrugged nonchalantly with that goofy grin you fell in love with.
“Let's go Stunt Man” you smiled, planting one last kiss on his swollen lips before slipping around him and out of your trailer.
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sometimes i get the very strong urge to write a comes back ??? fic for bakugou but the more i think about it, the more i realize how emotionally taxing and honestly horrifying it would be.
you and bakugou spend a few years in that weird will-they-won't-they stage before you officially start seeing each other seriously, and then it takes some time to adjust to having a pro-hero for a partner — so it's not always easy. until the time goes by and you have a break up scare or two and things finally level out, and you figure out how to talk to each other and you fall into the beautifully warm comfort of just being together, in love.
and then he fucking dies. in a heart-explodey, blind-in-one-eye kind of way.
the two years that follow are just — time passing, like pages in a chapter you can't understand the words to. you know grief in a way you never could have comprehended before, you wonder what it's all for and how you'll go on. you're angry at him for sacrificing his stupid life and angry at the world for taking him from you, but you're so deeply, down to your bones, heartbroken over losing him.
and you're not the only one; more than any of his friends that you see, deku is the one who is there for you the most. calls you daily and pulls you out of bed, makes sure you eat because he knows that's what kacchan would want. lovingly flings out a few gruff insults that make you laugh until you're both crying in your kitchen. it means something, maybe, that you both can just mourn in the presence of one another, without judgement or care.
your relationship gets a little — dependent. not romantic, at least not for you, but it's like you need the other person for the bits of bakugou they hold that you don't. the memories and the laughs and the bad times as well as the good. the secrets katsuki would never tell you, and the tenderness izuku was never shown.
it never gets easier. every day is just another day. if you think about it for too long, it all comes crumbling down. you're almost having to disassociate through your life just to make it, and that's hard when the whole city mourns him, too. but you do it. every single day, even on the worst of them.
izuku calls you a little more than two years after, in the middle of the night.
sounding way too awake and out of breathe, though you don't think that's necessarily out of the ordinary, considering his profession. he's a very hyper-fixation kind of guy; you can only imagine what hobby he's picked up and also mastered in the last 48 hours.
he asks if he can come pick you up from your apartment because he "needs to show you something important" and you agree, even if it doesn't feel like it usually does, when the nights are long and you both need someone to talk to. this feels — urgent. a bit worrisome.
you don't know where he takes you, but he's quiet the whole way there. in an old sweater, hair mussed, bags under his eyes like he really hasn't slept in the last 48 hours.
("stupid flighty fucker," katsuki would say, sometimes, when the weight of the world was weighing too heavily on the number one hero's shoulders, and even if he would huff and puff and grit his teeth, you'd notice him checking his phone more often than usual. taking every phone call that came without hesitation.)
you almost want to tell izuku that, in the car, because that's what you do, that's how you've kept him alive between the two of you; kacchan would make a point to tell you that's not how generators work, in the shitty horror film you and deku go see, that kacchan wouldn't dare sit through.
("no, he would," you argue, solemn as the lights in the theater warm back to life, as it empties. "he would."
and after a long, heavy beat, izuku would agree. "yeah. he would.")
izuku brings you somewhere that's too clinical to be as quiet and as dark as it is: inside, the walls and floors are sterile with anti-septic but the lights are off, in every hallway. the only visibility comes from a small lamp that's in a lobby of sorts, and there is a small handful of people you don't know, at all, already there. waiting.
you say his name in a small, concerned question, and when he takes both his hands in yours, they're warm and too wide and sweaty. his eyes glow, but in a way you don't recognize. everything he says to you is — gibberish, a mish-mash of worry and half-sentences and all the warning bells are going off in your head.
"y-you can't freak out, okay? you have to—i can explain all this when...when the time is right."
"you said that you would give anything to have kacchan back, remember? you said—you would do anything."
"i know this sounds—i know how this sounds, okay? but nothing is impossible!"
"i just need you to trust me."
and up until now, you had no reason not to. but you're not sure when he slept last, or even when he ate last, or why he's muttering things about his quirk, how he and katsuki are connected somehow, in ways he's not able to explain.
or why you can faintly hear the steady beeping of a heart monitor just beyond the only closer door in this wing of the hospital.
#not me actually crying while writing this lmaooo#deku is ✨ delulu ✨ enough for the both of us kahfkaha#no bc the thing is that he comes back and it's the age old question of. what have we done.#but at what *cost*#in my anime world logic for this deku does something something with all for one to bring him back — along with other unspecified stuff — an#bakugou comes back with deku's memories of the last two years 👀#and he can FEEL how miserable deku was without him 🥺 how bad deku felt for YOU 🥺#how weirdly close the two of you got 🤔#does he come back wrong ????? or does bringing him back make YOU wrong ??? 🥺#okay bye for real for real we've been driving all day bye bye#✿ willow writes#✿ thoughts: bakugou
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I'm here to admit that I may have developed a hyper fixation on your OCs (especially on Zerion and Sir. Valentine) so can you perhaps tell us more about them? (And other OCS)
oh hey!! great selection of characters. Makes me really happy you wanting to know more about them! I love them a lot, but Sir Valentine more, as Zerion's personality and setting is pretty nebulous still.
info about them both under read more!
Zerion is some sort of cartoony super villain, heavily inspired in the night of the bald mountain monster interpretation from Fantasia(disney)
(art from 2020)
I think he's a very strong dark mage or something. Right now I have him reduced to a joke. A cartoony villain living his slice of life, but always awaiting action, the smallest spark chaos, to join in, in a world where nothing ever happens.
He has his sidekick, Vampina (I think that was her name). A vampire chick who lives in the moment and is Zerion's servant, as long as he provides him with some blood every now and then
(2023)
(2021)
she almost never pulls off that relaxed smile from her face, her brain usually has no thoughts more than "can i eath this?" "I can eat this"
Both of them are pretty evil. I remember once i tried to sketch out a first chapter, where they had a visit of income tax department agents, coming to remind Zerion he hadn't paid his taxes, and both Zerion and Vampina made a whole intricate plan on how to get rid of them and torture them, to show the government they're not to be fucked with.
Though, all their scare tactics were just confusing, failed magic tricks for the men, now tied to apparent non functioning electric chairs, looking at each other through their sunglasses, stoic faces, while confused to what Zerion is yapping about in his villain monologue, while Vampina eats a stale bread in the BG.
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I don't have much about Sir Valentine either, but I certainly have drawn him more. For now, His name is Sir Cannon Valentine, but we'll get to that in a bit.
(both from 2020)
This is the first art ever I made of him, and that's a lot of his vibe. (2019)
This MAN, is some warrior who died in his armor but is back by some whack magic, and he's impatient, easily irritated, screams instead of talking, and I've always imagined having him a strong accent. He's here to fight and go headfirst into everything bc he really cannot die.
As of 2024, Sir Valentine is Sir Cannon Valentine (you can still call him the first version), BECAUSE, besides him being reborn and inmortal, angry and ready to fucking obliterate anything in his way, now his body works as a canonball
He went through my manic episode of redesigning many of my characters, after getting a taste of Pizza tower's cartoony characters, and became this. Much more functional, easily drawn, flowy. he just works, i can animate him in a snap of fingers. Still consistenly working to improve his design even more.
I will probs change the story, but this guy is resucitated as a last resort for a war between kingdoms, as a mistake, bc they wanted to revive some other guy, but got mistaken and went to his thomb. This guy revived him, after a ritualistic dance and some lightning
and then he is like "oh wait I fucked up", and Valentine is like "TOO LATE BITCH I'M FREE!!" and blasts away from him, as a cannonball, fueled by his own fire and methane gas from the catacombs he is in lol.
This story is very not much constructed, but I love Sir Valentine a lot, and the characters I can surround him with. I see him falling for a bourgeoisie woman, or a princess even, bc all my stories need the romance, I'm nothing without the romance.
I am also thinking of including another character of mine, Sayen, as the daughter of this death guy
Sayen previously appeared as a participant in a nsfw comic in my twt alt account lol. I love her and her design very much.
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UNDER THE SEA
𝑻𝑾/𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺..Prince!Chuuya, The little mermaid AU, drowning, thunderstorms, injuries, romantic tension, strangers to lovers, Mermaid!Reader, Fantasy Violence, Pet names, both Chuuya and reader are disgustingly in love,Reader is down bad for chuuya, Love at First Sight, Idiots in Love, Reader is called 'Princess' and later on 'Queen', Weddings, Songfic.
𝑷𝑨𝑰𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: Prince!Chuuya Nakahara x Mermaid!Reader
𝑮𝑬𝑵𝑹𝑬: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, Angst with a happy ending.
𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: The ocean was wide, yet everything was very much the same for you, that is until you save a human prince from a shipwreck. Despite only having met once for a short period, the two Royals become infatuated with each other, The human wanting to know who saved them and you resolve to do whatever it takes to become part of his world.
𝘈/𝘕: Hey it's me again yall, I had to write this to get my The Little Mermaid hyper fixation off my system (even tho it didn't work, I'm still heavily obsessed with it) also English is not my native tongue so my apologies if there are any mistakes! A huge thanks to @yuugen-benni for helping me out with everything and listening to me ramble about it!! So..I hope you guys enjoy ;)
-Please for "Part of your world" and its reprise listen to Halle's version!! Since this fic is based both on the live-action and Animated versions, there are some song's that I will indicate for yall to listen !!
"𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟����𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞."
-𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐧
As the ship gracefully cut through the deep blue waters, its sails billowed with the gentle yet persistent breeze. The vessel danced upon the undulating waves, leaving a mesmerizing trail of foam in its wake. Above, the sky was adorned with an intricate tapestry of clouds, their fluffy formations casting shifting shadows upon the sea below, showing signs that the chances of rain were high, but the crew on board the vessel paid no mind.
On deck, the crew reveled in the joyous occasion, their laughter and voices carried by the salty breeze. They were singing, about mermaids who swam below the surface and the treasures hidden beneath the waves. Laughter and cheers erupted in between the verses and echoed across the wooden planks, blending with the rhythmic creaking of the ship as it swayed in tune with the rolling waves in a harmonious melody that echoed across the ocean.
Amidst the celebration, a figure hung suspended from a rope, His strong hands clutched the sturdy knot, his body swaying gently in sync with the ship's movements. The wind tousled his ginger hair and tugged at the edges of his clothes evoking a sense of freedom. He closed his eyes, surrendering himself to the sensation of the breeze, relishing in the exhilarating blend of coolness and warmth that brushed against his skin.
The air smelled of salt. He certainly missed that smell of the ocean's breeze
“Isn’t this great?” the young prince exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with joy as he stood on the ship's deck, completely focused on the view. Unaware of his royal advisor's estate, he beamed with enthusiasm. “That salted sea air, the wind blowing in your face. It’s the perfect day to be out on the sea, don’t you agree old man? Hirotsu?”
Meanwhile, Hirotsu was preoccupied with the churning of his stomach and the imminent danger of losing his lunch. He delicately wiped his mouth with a handkerchief as he leaned over the rail trying to maintain his composure amidst the waves. Summoning his strength, he turned towards the prince.
“Oh, yes, delightful” he managed to respond, his voice slightly strained, his body tensed as if fearing the very idea of tumbling into the waters.
“Come on Hirotsu, don’t be a spoiled sport." Chuuya grumbled, his impatience tinged in his tone. he leaped onto the main deck area, his enthusiasm unabated. "You know that the sea is like a second home to me.”
“Sorry your majesty, but it seems that your home disagrees with me.” Hirotsu replied, his tone strained and as if in confirmation, he turned even paler and leaned over the rail once again, succumbing to another wave of nausea.
The prince playfully rolled his eyes before joining the bustling sailors, eager to lend a hand. The atmosphere of the crew infected him with joy, and he couldn't help but wear a wide smile.
"A fine strong wind and a following sea," one of the seasoned sailors remarked while tugging on a rope, the prince quickly moved to assist him, skillfully securing the rope in place. "King Fukuzawa must be in a friendly type mood."
"King Fukuzawa?" Chuuya asked, his curiosity piqued as he turned to the sailor.
"Why, ruler of the merpeople, lass" the sailor replied grinning, his voice laced with playful humor. He chuckled, teasing the young prince gently, "Surely, every seasoned sailor is well aware of him"
"Merpeople," Hirotsu muttered, his voice filled with skepticism as he descended the stairs of the boat. "Your Highness, please pay no attention to this nautical nonsense."
"But it ain't nonsense, it's the truth!" insisted one of the sailors, pointing an accusing finger at Hirotsu. Ignoring the gesture, Hirotsu merely glared back, his skepticism evident.
"I'm tellin' ya, down in the depths of the ocean, they live!" the sailor continued, his voice filled with conviction. Suddenly, his grip on a fish he was holding slipped, and the creature wriggled out of his hands. Reacting swiftly, Hirotsu instinctively swatted the fish away before it could slap him across the face with its tail, causing it to splash back into the sea.
Chuuya couldn't contain his laughter, a delighted grin spreading across his face. "Who knows, Hirotsu? Maybe there's more beneath the waves than we ever dared to imagine."
Beneath the glistening waves, you gracefully swam around a mast on the ocean floor, your eyes filled with wonder as you explored the remnants of a sunken ship. Your face lit up with excitement as you examined the intricate details that once belonged to the vessel, a small smile graced your lips, but it faded swiftly as you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.
"[Name]! Wait for me!" a lionfish merman called, his vibrant scales shimmering in the underwater light.
"Atsushi, hurry up!" You beckoned him urgently. You pointed toward a fully intact abandoned ship, resting a short distance away.
"Isn't it fantastic?" You exclaimed, admiration evident in your tone. Atsushi, however, rolled his eyes in response, his skepticism apparent.
"Yeah, sure, it's great. Now let's go before someone catches us," Atsushi replied, turning around to swim away. However, before he could escape, you captured his tail between your fingers, firmly holding him in place.
"Oh, don't tell me you're getting cold fins now, are you?" you playfully teased, giving Atsushi a pointed glare before resuming your firm hold on his tail, determined to explore the ship.
"No way, but if your dad or brother found out—" Atsushi began, he managed to break free from your grasp and reluctantly followed along.
"Which they won't," you assured him with confidence, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. Standing at the entrance of the ship, you turned to face Atsushi. "It's better for me to be here than Dazai, right? We'll just have a quick look around, grab anything interesting we find, and return without them ever noticing I was gone."
"I'd prefer neither you nor Dazai, neither of you is reliable!" Atsushi muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his tone,he nervously flicked his venomous spines. "Both of you always manage to pull me into these situations. If it's not Dazai trying to encounter ships head-on, it's you boarding them!" you shot him a piercing glare, unimpressed by his complaints.
"If you're so interested in complaining, then keep watch for any sharks, will you?" you quipped, a mischievous grin spreading across your face as you squeezed through one of the holes in the ship's side.
"Of course... I'll be here, keeping a lookout for sharks—wait a minute, sharks? [Name]!" Atsushi's voice rose in alarm as he attempted to follow you through the same hole, only to find himself stuck, his tail flailing in the water.
You looked back at him, but you couldn't help but burst into laughter, swimming back to help your trapped friend. "Oh, Atsushi, you never fail to make things interesting. Hold on, let me give you a hand," you said between giggles, reaching out to lend a hand and free Atsushi from his position.
With a gentle tug and a bit of maneuvering, you managed to free Atsushi from his position. As you both ventured further into the ship's interior, Atsushi's mumbling continued, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Oh, this is just great. I love this, the excitement, the adventure, the ever-present danger," Atsushi muttered his dorsal fins drooping slightly, his tone dripping with playful mockery, you shot him an amused smile as you both ventured further into the ship's interior.
As he turned a corner, Atsushi suddenly came face-to-face with a grinning skull, eliciting a blood-curdling scream from him. In his panicked state, he swam as fast as his fins would allow, he failed to notice you in his path, causing him to collide with you and causing you both to tumble down to the ship's floor.
"Atsushi, are you alright?" shaking off the shock you asked him, a playful teasing lilt in your voice, you couldn't help but giggle at Atsushi's panicked reaction. "Aren't lionfish supposed to be brave? Or you just made that up?"
Atsushi, still trembling from the fright, shot you an embarrassed glare. "I... I am brave! It's just...anything like that can startle anyone!" he protested, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
You let out an exasperated sigh at Atsushi's response and you made your way to the top of the ship, your eyes scanning the surroundings. Suddenly, a gasp escaped your lips, capturing Atsushi's attention.
"Atsushi, look!" you called out excitedly, swimming swiftly towards a piece of metal resting on the captain's deck. It resembled your father's trident, but it was a miniature version, crafted in shining silver with four prongs instead of three. You held it up, turning it around in your hands, a look of awe on your face.
"Have you ever seen anything so wonderful in your entire life?" you asked, your eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"Wow, that's cool," Atsushi replied, examining the intricate details of the object. "But, uh, what is it exactly?"
"I don't know, but Dazai can certainly enlighten us." A mischievous grin formed on your lips as you replied, With a sense of triumph, you carefully placed the object into a small pouch at your side, eager to show it to Dazai later.
Atsushi pondered for a moment, his thoughts drifting back to your earlier conversation. "But seriously, isn't this the area known for shark activity? And didn't Dazai receive a ban from your father on any contact with you? How the hell did that happen?" he questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"He was caught doing something illegal if I remember and also, trust me, if the gods themselves appeared before Dazai and commanded him to do something, he'd find a way to wriggle out of it," you replied with a hint of annoyance as you recalled the countless antics of dazai.
"Besides, nothing ever happens down here. It's all just a rumor, so we don't have to worry about sharks." You chuckled grinning playfully, thinking your words held a touch of irony.
Suddenly, a deep rumble reverberated from the direction of the boat's windows, causing your eyes to widen in alarm. Atsushi's fear was palpable as he looked around, his expression mirroring your concern.
"Well, I don't even need to turn around to realize the irony," you quipped, your voice tinged with a mix of dread. Despite your hesitation, you mustered the courage to glance at the windows, only to be met with the sight of a massive great white shark outside, a shiver ran down your spine as you couldn't help but utter, "Well, I've turned around, and I see..damn."
"There's a literal shark outside, and the only thing you can say is 'damn'?" Atsushi whisper-shouted, disbelief written on his face.
Before you could respond, the shark, propelled by sheer force, crashed into the old window with a thunderous impact. Reacting swiftly, you grabbed hold of the startled and screaming Atsushi, swimming towards the nearest entrance of the boat as quickly as your fins would allow. In your haste, you couldn't resist grabbing something else that Atsushi had found on a nearby barrel, earning you a disapproving glare from him.
A crashing sound echoed from behind as the shark relentlessly tore through the ship, breaking wood and leaving destruction in its path. Fear surged through your veins, urging you to swim faster, desperate to escape the predator's pursuit. The twisting and turning paths of the boat became your labyrinth, as you cleverly navigated through narrow passages and tight corners, using every advantage to stay ahead.
At one moment, your pouch became ensnared in a jagged piece of wood. Despite the shark coming closer, you refused to abandon the treasure you had acquired. Summoning all your determination, you swiftly maneuvered towards it, narrowly evading the shark's menacing jaws. With a well-timed twist, you managed to fool the predator into slamming against the ceiling, buying you time to continue your escape.
You reached the same hole you had entered through and started swimming towards it, urging Atsushi to follow suit. However, panic gripped him as he realized he wouldn't fit through the narrow opening, he froze at the entrance of the hole.
"I won't fit in! I'm gonna get stuck!" Atsushi's terrified voice echoed through the ship.
"Atsushi! For the love of my father just go!" you screamed back, the urgency in your tone reflecting the situation. Time was limited, and you knew that Atsushi's safety depended on him.
Summoning every ounce of strength, you pushed Atsushi through the hole, ensuring he made it to safety before following closely behind. The moment you emerged, the shark burst through the opening, its menacing presence continuing to haunt your escape. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you and Atsushi swam fast, desperately evading the clutches of the shark.
Thinking quickly, you led Atsushi in swift circles around one of the ship's sturdy poles, hoping to confuse the shark and gain a momentary advantage. In a calculated move, you dodged around one of the masts, anticipating that the shark would collide with it. However, to your dismay, it was a disoriented and panicked Atsushi who ended up colliding with the mast, causing him to faint from the impact.
"Are you kidding me? Seriously?" you exclaimed in exasperation, witnessing the scene unfolding before you. Both you and the shark swam toward the unconscious Atsushi, but you were quicker and managed to grab him before the shark could reach him.
Searching for a solution, your eyes landed on a large metal rod nearby. It was just wide enough for Atsushi to pass through but not the shark. You propelled yourself towards it, hoping your intuition would prove right, as you and Atsushi swam through the opening of the rod, you heard a satisfying slam and creak behind you. Turning back, you saw the shark trapped within the confines of the rod, its fierce movements futile against the sturdy obstacle, a surge of relief washed over you, and you couldn't help but stick out your tongue, mocking it.
"Haha! Take that, you idiot!" Atsushi taunted swimming closer to the trapped shark, ticking his tongue out defiantly. The shark, with its jaws, snapped them shut menacingly close to Atsushi, who scrambled away in fright. Together, you and Atsushi hurriedly swam away.
Eventually, after a long swim, you and Atsushi reached a rocky outcrop where you settled down to catch your breath. You carefully inspected your pouch, making sure nothing was left behind, while Atsushi, still panting, sat beside you on the rock.
"I'm never going to a place like that again, do you hear me? Never again-," Atsushi declared exhausted, but his sentence was abruptly cut off by the sudden dive of an object in front of him. He let out a startled scream and quickly sought refuge behind you.
"Come on, Atsushi, it's just Dazai," you reassured him, casting a glare at the misbehaving merman. "Besides, I promise I won't go there again... well, I think."
Calling out to Dazai, you caught his attention, and he paused his playful harassment of the fish, swimming over to you with a charming smile. Taking your hand, he gallantly kissed it, displaying his typical flair.
"Princess! How are you?" Dazai greeted you warmly, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
Rather than answering his question, you eagerly offered him your pouch, excitement radiating from you. "Dazai, look what we found!" you exclaimed, your eyes shining with enthusiasm.
Dazai accepted the pouch and examined its contents, a chuckle escaping his lips at your friend's infectious enthusiasm. Secretly, he wished you could bring him more treasures from your adventures, but he knew that it would be too risky. Your father would surely notice if you kept making these frequent trips to see him.
"we were exploring a sunken ship, and we even had a shark chase us to obtain this!" Atsushi interjected, his voice laced with annoyance, directing a side-eye glare towards you.
"Hmm," Dazai examined the objects, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, look! This is rare," he exclaimed in recognition, pulling out what looked like your father's trident, your eyes widened in excitement.
"What is it?" you asked eagerly.
"It's a dinglehopper," Dazai stated certain "You see, humans use this to straighten their hair out!" He nodded confidently at his explanation, then took the trident and started combing his hair with it. "You just comb here, and voila! You'll have hair that makes humans swoon!"
"Dinglehopper," you repeated, savoring the word as you took the fork-like object back into your hands.Atsushi pointed to another artifact taken from the boat.
"What about that one?" he asked, Dazai examined the piece of wood and chuckled.
"Ah, this is a snarfblatt," he explained, capturing your attention once again. "You see, in prehistoric times, people used to sit around in circles and make music with this instrument, just watch" He attempted to blow into it, but instead, seaweed came out.
"Music! Oh no!" You exclaimed, covering your face with your hands and groaning in frustration. You scrambled to put your things back into the pouch. "No, no, no! The concert! I forgot! Oh my father is going to kill me!"
"The concert was today?" Atsushi asked, clearly confused.
"Stupid thing, why won't you work?" Dazai mumbled to himself, before it was taken back from you.
"I have to go, Dazai! Thank you!" you called out, moving swiftly through the water. Grateful for his help, you leaned in and planted a quick kiss on Dazai's cheek as a gesture of thanks.
"Anytime, princess!" Dazai chuckled as he waved to you, his grin never fading as you and Atsushi swam away.
Unbeknownst to both of you, two eel-like mermen silently trailed behind, their eyes fixated on your every move. In the depths of the ocean, a merman observed your departure through a mystical orb, his interest piqued by your actions.
"Yes, hurry home, sweetheart, we wouldn’t want to miss old daddy’s celebration now, would we?" a hoarse male voice cooed with deceptive sweetness. the voice chuckled, a sadistic gleam shining in his eyes. "A celebration indeed, when I resided in the castle, we had fantastical feasts, and now I find myself banished, exiled, practically starving, while Fukuzawa and his pathetic merfolk celebrate."
"Well, I shall provide them with a reason to celebrate soon enough, after all, their god is coming back" the merman sneered, his soothing voice like the smoothest silk, matching his dark purple eyes, a wide grin spread across his face as he addressed the mystical orb before him. "Mushitarou, Shibusawa."
The two mermen, startled by the sudden command, fumbled in surprise. Mushitarou accidentally hit his head on the rock he was hiding beneath, He winced but quickly refocused when their leader's voice continued.
"I want you to keep an extra close watch on the princess. She may just be the key to Fukuzawa's undoing." He chuckled darkly as he observed you swimming away.
"I just don't know what to do with you," Fukuzawa spoke, his voice tinged with disappointment, as he looked at you from his seat on the throne, two figures floated beside him, each wearing a different expression. Ranpo pouted while the other, Sigma, wore an annoyed look.
"As a result of your careless behavior—" Fukuzawa started to scold you, his voice laced with disappointment.
"Careless and reckless behavior!" Ranpo interjected sternly, his eyes fixed on you. He seemed to have already deduced what had happened, earning him a side glare from you.
"The entire celebration was rui—" Fukuzawa continued, his frustration evident.
"It was utterly ruined!" Sigma interjected, his annoyance evident as he floated in front of you. His tail twitched with agitation, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his stressed demeanor. "Completely destroyed! Not only did you miss the rehearsals, but my compositions and efforts were rendered useless because of this!"
"We looked like laughingstocks in front of an empty clam," Sigma groaned, shooting you an irritated look. "And you had your special appearance, which you didn't even utilize!"
"But it wasn't her fault," Atsushi interjected, stepping forward to stand in front of you. He looked at Sigma, trying to cover for you. However, he suddenly felt incredibly small under the gaze of the king and his royal advisor. "We were followed by a shark! And then—"
Fukuzawa seemed uninterested, dismissing Atsushi's explanation as a fabricated tale to protect you.
"—and then we managed to escape, so we went to Dazai, and he was all like, 'This is this, and that is that—'" Atsushi rambled, struggling to find the right words.
"Dazai?!" Fukuzawa exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. Atsushi quickly covered his mouth,realizing his mistake.
Atsushi cowered behind you, seeking solace from your protective presence. You glared at him in exasperation as your father continued to speak,his tone weary as he rubbed his temples.
"You went to meet him again, didn't you?" Fukuzawa asked, his voice tinged with exhaustion.
You offered him a sheepish grin, desperately attempting to defuse the situation. "Nothing happened, and besides, it was him who went to see me, not the other way around," you lied, hoping to convince your father.
"My starflower, how many times must we go through this? He almost got himself caught, and what's worse, he still goes to the surface to interact with them! Some of those barbarians could have seen you with him!" Fukuzawa let out a heavy sigh, his voice laced with frustration.
"They're not barbarians!" you countered confidently, your voice filled with conviction. You had never understood your father's strong aversion towards humans. While you acknowledged that some could be harmful, you believed that not everyone should be painted with the same brush. "How could a so-called barbaric species create such wonderful things?"
"They are dangerous! They took your mother from us!" Fukuzawa's voice rose as he yelled, his words filled with pain and anguish. He softened momentarily, swimming closer to you. You looked down, catching a glimpse of the worry etched in his eyes. "Do you think I want to see one of my children snared by some fish-eater's hook?"
"I'm seventeen years old, Father. I'm not a child anymore, I can take care of myself!" you asserted, your voice laced with anger, trying to reclaim your independence.
"Don't you speak to your father like that, [Name]!" Fukuzawa snapped back, his stern glare returning. "Yes, you may be an adult, but I am still your king, and the security of my kingdom, including yours, is my responsibility. You WILL obey my rules."
"But if you would just listen to me—" you pleaded, before being abruptly cut off.
"Not another word!" he declared, his arms raised above his head in a gesture of finality. "And I never want to hear of you going to the surface again or being with Dazai! Is that clear?!"
Your gaze bore into your father's back, your lips trembling slightly at the realization of never being able to see your friend again or explore the world you found so fascinating. The anger you had felt moments ago now transformed into grief, without saying a word in response, you swam away as quickly as possible. Atsushi watched you depart, his worry evident, and soon followed in pursuit, while Sigma and Ranpo remained behind, observing the situation.
Fukuzawa let out a deep sigh, sinking back into his throne. Sigma swam towards him, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Hm! Teenagers...They think they know everything. You give them an inch, and they swim all over you," Sigma commented, chuckling awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood.
"Do you think... Do you think I was too hard on her?" Fukuzawa questioned, his worry evident as he looked towards his trusted advisor.
"Definitely not. Why, if she were my child, I'd show her who was boss. None of this 'flitting to the surface' and other such nonsense. No, sir, I'd keep her under tight control," Sigma declared proudly, puffing his chest out with self-assurance.
"You're absolutely right, Sigma," Fukuzawa said, a smirk forming on his face as a plan began to take shape in his mind.
"Of course," Sigma replied, mirroring the smirk on Fukuzawa's face, secretly thanking the great king's that they were in accord.
"[Name] needs constant supervision," the king declared firmly.
"Constant," Sigma affirmed, nodding his head in agreement.
"And you, my dear Sigma, are just the merman to do it," Fukuzawa said, pointing directly at Sigma. The advisor looked at him with shock, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected responsibility thrust upon him.
Sigma's mouth opened and closed a few times, speechless for a moment before he finally managed to sputter, "Me? But, Your Highness, I... I..."
Fukuzawa's smirk widened as he watched Sigma's surprise. "You have the wit, the intelligence, and the loyalty required to keep an eye on [Name]. Besides, who better to understand her than you?"
Sigma, still processing the sudden responsibility thrust upon him, nodded hesitantly and left the throne room. As he walked out, he muttered to himself. "How do I get myself into these situations? I should be sorting out the casino, not tagging along after some headstrong teenager."
Sigma's eyes widened in surprise as he observed you and Atsushi sneaking out and cautiously entering a small grotto. Curiosity got the better of him, and he followed silently, his astonishment growing as he discovered a collection of strange human artifacts within the cave. The walls and rocks were adorned with treasures that humans had discarded or lost.
"What in the...?" Sigma muttered under his breath, his gaze scanning the assortment of human items. He couldn't help but be intrigued by the sight before him, a glimpse into the human world that fascinated you so deeply.
At the bottom of the grotto, he spotted you resting on a rock, playing with a newly acquired treasure on your hands. Atsushi cautiously approached you, concern etched on his face, while Sigma stood back, observing the scene before him.
"[Name], are you okay?" Atsushi asked softly, his voice filled with genuine worry.
You remained silent for a moment, your gaze fixated on the dinglehopper in your hand. The weight of your father's disapproval and the restrictions placed upon you weighed heavily.
"Maybe he's right," you whispered, your voice tinged with frustration. Your tail twitched anxiously as you contemplated your father's words "Maybe there is something the matter with me."
"If only I could make him understand," you continued, your voice filled with longing. "I just don't see things the way he does. How can a world that creates such wonderful things could be bad?"
"Look at this stuff, isn't it neat?" you asked with a slight smile, placing the dinglehopper into a candlelight, illuminating the grotto filled with more intriguing objects. Turning to face Atsushi, you continued, "Wouldn't you think my collection's complete?"
"Wouldn't you think I'm the girl... the girl who has everything?" you sang, your voice carrying a sense of longing. As you moved gracefully through the grotto, admiring your treasured possessions, the moon's glow accentuated the enchanting scene.
"Look at this trove, treasures untold," you sang softly, your gaze wandering over the abundance of human items. "How many wonders can one cavern hold? Looking around here, you'd think, 'Sure, she's got everything.'"
"I've got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty," you quipped, playing with the items using your tail, before swimming towards a section where you stored more objects. "I've got whozits and whatzits galore."
"You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty," you smirked, opening a box to reveal a peculiar curly spiked item. Atsushi seemed intrigued, but you closed the box with a sigh. "But who cares? No big deal. I want more," you murmured wistfully.
"I wanna be where the people are," you sang, your voice resonating with longing. Your gaze shifted towards a statue of two humans locked in a loving embrace. You delicately traced your finger along the statue, admiring the tender display. "I wanna see, wanna see them dancing."
"Walking around on those, what do you call 'em?" you asked, snapping out of your reverie. Atsushi playfully showed you his tail, shaking it, and you chuckled, realizing the word you had momentarily forgotten. "Oh, feet!" you exclaimed, grabbing his tail playfully.
"Flipping your fins, you don't get too far," you sang, gracefully swimming in circles around Atsushi, showcasing your mesmerizing tail. Its flowing fins shimmered with hues of teal and red. Atsushi followed suit, imitating your movements with his own tail. Then, you swam behind him, grabbing his arms and pulling him along. "Legs are required for jumping, dancing."
"Strolling along down a, what's that word again?" you asked, mimicking a human walking motion with Atsushi. Suddenly, the word popped into your mind, and you giggled in amusement. "Street"
"Up where they walk, up where they run," you sang, your voice filled with determination as you grabbed Atsushi's hand and swam towards a narrow opening in the cave. The moon's gentle glow illuminated your path, casting a silvery sheen on your shimmering scales. "Up where they stay all day in the Sun"
"Wandering free, wish I could be," you said, your voice carrying a bittersweet longing. Your eyes remained fixed on the opening, your heart yearning for the world that lay beyond. The thought of being a part of that world ignited a fire within you, driving you to seek out new experiences and forge your path.
"Part of your world" you added, your voice gaining strength as the words resonated with the depth of your desire.
"What would I give, if I could live out of these waters?" you pondered aloud, your voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and longing. As you swam towards the opening filled with sand and your cherished collection, your fins gracefully propelled you forward, each movement purposeful and determined.
"What would I pay, to spend a day warm on the sand," you mused, a soft smile gracing your lips. You gracefully ceased your swimming and settled onto the grotto's floor, feeling the gentle caress of the sand against your back and fins. With a delighted sigh, you began to playfully immerse yourself in the sandy embrace.
"Betcha on land, they understand, bet they don't reprimand their daughters," you murmured, a tinge of bitterness lacing your words. As you watched the sand slip through your fingertips, memories of the fight with your father resurfaced.
"Bright young women, sick of swimming," you said with a grin, playfully stuffing your chest and chuckling at the absurdity of being confined into your father's kingdom, yearning for something greater.
"Ready to stand," you sang, your voice growing stronger and more confident with each word.
"I'm ready to know what the people know, ask 'em my questions and get some answers" you declared, your eyes shining with curiosity as you swam towards a book that had caught your attention. With eager anticipation, you flipped through its pages, exploring the world of human knowledge and wisdom. Atsushi swam closer, peering over your shoulder, his curiosity piqued.
"What's a fire and why does it...what's the word? burn." you pondered aloud, your gaze fixated on the painting before you. It depicted a human holding an object with flames dancing atop it. Intrigued, you traced your fingers along the vibrant colors of orange and yellow, as if trying to feel the warmth emanating from the painted flames.
"When's it my turn? Wouldn't I love," you exclaimed with longing. You swam swiftly toward the opening of the grotto, your heart filled with an undeniable desire to experience the world beyond the water's surface. The moonlight bathed your figure, casting a radiant glow upon your shimmering tail
"Love to explore the shore up above." as you reached the small opening with only your arm outstretched, you hesitated for a moment. Gazing up sadly at the entrance, you slowly withdrew your arm, feeling a sense of longing and disappointment.
"Out of the sea," you sang softly, your voice filled with melancholy, "wish I could be..."
Swimming back toward the rocky ledge where you had been resting, Atsushi watched you with concern. He could sense the sadness that had enveloped you, and he approached gently, his gaze filled with empathy.
"Part of that world," you sang, your voice carrying a hint of hope, as you and Atsushi gazed upward.
You got startled as you suddenly heard a whole bunch of noise, causing you and Atsushi to turn and witness Sigma struggling with a net entangling his tail. Concern washed over you as you swam over to him, quickly helping him free himself from the entrapment.
"[Name], what is all this?" Sigma questioned, his eyes wide with shock as he shrugged the net off him.
"It's just... my collection," you replied nervously, offering a sheepish smile.
"I see. Your collection," Sigma said calmly, his tone tinged with a mixture of understanding and worry. "If your father knew about this place..."
"You're not going to tell him, are you?" Atsushi asked, stepping forward and placing himself between you and Sigma.
"Please, my father would never understand," you spoke with vulnerability as you swam towards Sigma, taking his hands in yours, you looked into his eyes.
Sigma's features softened, and he let out a sigh before a gentle smile graced his face. With a sense of understanding, he gently grabbed your hands.
"My dear, come with me," he said in a gentle tone, guiding you outside. "you’ve had a long day, how about we go home and I get you something warm to drink?"
A shadow then loomed over them, making you stop and look up. The dimly lit figure of a majestic ship appeared on the surface, its sails billowing in the gentle breeze. A sense of wonder filled you as you witnessed the scene.
"What do you suppose..." you asked softly, the words escaping your lips in a hushed whisper. Without another thought, you released Sigma's hands and propelled yourself out of the cave, your tail propelling you toward the surface with excitement. Sigma called out to you, his voice filled with concern.
As you broke the surface of the water, your eyes widened in awe. Before you stretched an expanse of dark, glistening waves, illuminated by a magnificent display of fireworks. Beams of vibrant colors painted the night sky, intertwining and exploding into cascades of shimmering fragments. The ship, bathed in the soft glow of the fireworks and moonlight, appeared like a floating dream.
"Wow" you whispered, the sight was mesmerizing, captivating your attention completely. You hadn't witnessed anything so breathtaking before, and your grin grew wider with each passing moment. Floating beside you, Atsushi wore an expression of pure awe, while Sigma appeared concerned about your impulsive actions.
Determined to experience the spectacle up close, you swiftly made your way towards the ship, much to Sigma's dismay. "[Name]! [Name], please come back!" Sigma called out, trying to catch up with you.
Eventually, you found a ledge that provided a perfect vantage point. With a burst of excitement, you leaped onto it, gripping the edge tightly. Your tail swished back and forth beneath you as your eyes beheld the radiant lights above the ship, while your ears reveled in the joyous sounds of laughter and music.
Among the crowd of revelers, a group of humans caught your attention. What fascinated you the most was their graceful dance movements as they joyfully swayed on two feet. Amidst them, a peculiar creature with long, brindle and yellow fur, adorned with a dark facial mask, danced on all fours, emitting a unique but cheerful sound. Enthralled, you watched the creature's lively performance.
Suddenly, it paused, sensing something in the air. Slowly, it sniffed the surroundings, eventually tracing the scent to your location. Realizing you might be spotted, you hastily moved aside from the ledge, heart pounding with fear.
After waiting a few moments, you cautiously peered over the edge again, only to be met with a pair of amber-colored eyes and a snarl. Acting on impulse, you extended your finger and playfully pressed it against the creature's nose. To your delight, it reacted by shaking its head and blinking its eyes. Then, it opened its mouth and affectionately licked your cheek. Giggling, you reciprocated the gesture by gently stroking its head.
"Albatross!" a voice called from deeper within the ship's deck. "Here, boy!"
Upon hearing the call, the being you now knew as Albatross turned back to the deck and happily left you alone. Curiosity still piqued, you stole another glance inside, observing as the creature began racing around a man who was laughing wholeheartedly. The man extended his hands, welcoming the pet that leapt into his embrace.
"Aw, come on, mutt. What were you doing, huh, Albatross?" he inquired with a bright grin, causing you to freeze in your tracks as you tried to get sight of him.
And that's when you saw him—the man who captured your attention. He was relatively short with a petite yet muscular build, and his long ginger hair was partially tied with small braids on the sides. The most captivating aspect of his appearance, however, were his mismatched eyes—one brown and the other the color of the sea, a piercing blue. His outfit complemented his unique appearance, with tailored pants reaching his ankles and three blouses layered on top. But what stood out the most was his hazy overcoat, adorned with shades of red and dark tones. You noticed he wore black gloves as well. There was an undeniable allure to him, the kind of face that could stop you in your tracks.
"Good boy, good boy," the man said, his gaze filled with affection as Albatross attempted to shower him with slobbery licks. A strange sensation stirred within you, causing your breath to catch in your throat.
"Quite a show, eh?" Dazai's voice suddenly chimed in beside you. Startled, you swiftly shushed the merman, glancing at him with a hint of annoyance.
"Dazai, they'll hear you!" You scolded, and Dazai chuckled, doing a slightly better job of concealing himself. However, your attention remained fixed on the man dancing on deck, who now had a flute in his hands, playfully toying with it.
Dazai followed your gaze, sensing your unusual silence. He gasped, doing a double take from you to the human gracefully dancing on the deck. Then, with a mischievous smirk, he spoke, "Stunning, isn't it?"
"He is gorgeous," I whispered before realizing the slip-up of your tongue. Panic flooded your senses, and you turned to face dazai, who wore a smug smirk on his face.
"No, not him, he looks more like a sea slug to me." Dazai chuckled, his face playfully pushed away by your flustered reaction as you groaned in exasperation.
"Silence, silence!" Hirotsu's commanding voice echoed across the deck, instantly quelling the chatter among the humans.
"It is now my honor and privilege to present our esteemed prince, Chuuya, with a very special, very expensive, and very large birthday gift," Hirotsu announced, his finger proudly pointing at a colossal package adorned with a vibrant red bow that had been standing prominently on the deck.
As Chuuya's name reverberated in the air, you couldn't help but feel a fluttering sensation in your chest. The realization that he was a prince sank in, his regal aura undeniable. His beauty and presence truly befitted his royal status.
"Aw, Hirotsu! You crafty old man, you shouldn't have," Chuuya exclaimed, affectionately patting his loyal advisor on the back while a smug smile played on his lips.
"Nonsense! It's a most special occasion to celebrate! Happy birthday Nakahara!" Hirotsu countered with enthusiasm. A sailor stepped forward, removing the cloth that concealed the present, unveiling a magnificent statue. The sculpture depicted Chuuya in a heroic pose, a sword resting at his side, with one leg gracefully propped up, as he gazed up at the sky.
Chuuya winced slightly, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. He couldn't fathom why Hirotsu had chosen such a particular pose for the statue. However, he managed to muster a sheepish grin, acknowledging his friend's efforts. Meanwhile, Albatross growled disapprovingly at the statue, sensing his owner's discomfort.
"Gee, Hirotsu, it's... really something. You could've just gotten me a bottle of wine," Chuuya murmured through gritted teeth, examining the statue more closely.
"Of course, it is! I understand how much you appreciate art. I commissioned it myself," Hirotsu declared triumphantly.
"Although, I had hoped it would serve as a wedding gift," he added, shooting a pointed glance at Chuuya, his expression filled with meaning. Chuuya let out a laugh.
"Oh, come on, Hirotsu, don't start," Chuuya chuckled, grabbing a telescope and making his way towards the spot where you and Dazai had been hiding. Sensing his approach, both you and Dazai quickly ducked out of sight.
“Look, you’re not still sore because I didn’t fall for the prince of Glowerhaven, are you?” Chuuya said as he reached the edge of the boat, his feet dangling playfully, he turned back with his signature grin, who sighed in response.
"Oh, young prince, it's not just me. The entire kingdom wishes to see you happily settled down with the right girl," Hirotsu sighed, gazing at Chuuya intently.
"Or boy," Chuuya muttered almost inaudibly, shrugging nonchalantly. He then propped himself up on the edge, his gaze fixated on the vast expanse of the sea. "Well, she's out there somewhere. I just..."
Dazai, positioned on the other side of the ledge, locked eyes with you, but you remained lost in your own thoughts, hanging onto Chuuya's every word.
"I just haven't found her yet," Chuuya continued, his hand gesturing vaguely atop his knee.
"Perhaps you haven't been searching hard enough," Hirotsu suggested, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow. Chuuya chuckled once more, his gaze drifting out into the sea.
"Oh, believe me, Hirotsu, when I find her, I'll know," Chuuya declared confidently. "Without a doubt, it'll just... bam! Hit me like lightning."
The moment Chuuya uttered those words, a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, followed by a resounding thunderclap not far from where you stood. It caught the attention of both you and Dazai, causing your eyes to widen in surprise.
"Stand fast!" A sailor's voice boomed from the mast as the rain intensified, causing most of the lights on the boat to flicker and go out. "Secure the rigging!"
Chuuya sprung into action, his earlier playful demeanor replaced as he rushed to aid the frantic sailors. The storm had intensified, with lightning bolts illuminating the darkened sky and waves growing wilder and more treacherous. Chuuya grabbed hold of ropes, using every ounce of his strength to secure them.
You and Dazai clung tightly to the ledge, desperately trying to maintain your balance amidst the tempestuous weather.
Suddenly, the boat lurched violently as a giant wave crashed upon it, nearly engulfing the vessel entirely. The sailors atop the deck lost their footing, and chaos ensued. Despite the perilous circumstances, Chuuya managed to make his way to the helm, seizing the wheel that had been left spinning aimlessly, and steered the ship in an attempt to maintain its course.
The turbulent sea proved unrelenting, and the next lightning bolt struck dangerously close, intensifying the chaos. In the midst of the chaos, you and Dazai were thrown off the ledge, plunging into the raging waters.
Together, you watched in horror as another lightning bolt struck the ship, setting the sails and mast ablaze. The crew above, unable to regain control, lost their footing, and the vessel collided with a massive rock, creating a gaping hole that expelled most of its crew, including Chuuya, with a horrified scream. The statue of him sunk rapidly into the depths of the sea.
Hirotsu and some of the crew members struggled to stay afloat on the water's surface when they heard Chuuya's desperate cry for help. Hirotsu extended a helping hand, and with the aid of other sailors, he was lifted into one of the life-saving boats. Chuuya, grateful for his friend's safety, turned to see that Albatross was still trapped onboard the burning ship, unable to escape the flames.
"Albatross!" Chuuya yelled, his voice filled with anguish. Without a second thought, he dove back into the water, swimming furiously toward the ship. Despite the precarious conditions, he climbed the stairs onto the deck. However, one of the masts, weakened by fire, finally succumbed, crashing down toward Chuuya. He narrowly managed to avoid its impact, but the fire had spread, reaching the stored fireworks.
Amidst the fire, Chuuya located his beloved pet and called for Albatross to come into his arms. The loyal creature obeyed, but as Chuuya attempted to make his way back out of the boat, his foot plunged through a weakened plank, causing him to stumble. Albatross slipped from his grasp and fell into the water. It was at that moment that you, swimming discreetly, spotted the commotion. The sailors desperately called out for the dog, while Hirotsu reached out his arms, urging Albatross to swim towards him. Seizing the opportunity, you gently pushed the dog into Hirotsu's waiting embrace. Hirotsu helped Albatross into the boat alongside other sailors, his relief evident.
Meanwhile, Chuuya remained trapped, his foot ensnared by the wreckage of the deck. Desperately, he struggled to free himself, but the flames finally reached the gunpowder, causing a devastating explosion that consumed the ship, with Chuuya still trapped inside. Hirotsu screamed out Chuuya's name from the safety of the small boat.
With determination, you navigated through the debris, eyes scanning the surface of the water, searching for any sign of Chuuya's unconscious form. Finally, you spotted him, his body slipping off a piece of floating wood and sinking into the depths. Without hesitation, you submerged yourself, swimming swiftly to his side and pulling him into your embrace, with every ounce of strength, you propelled both of you back to the surface, gasping for breath as you cradled the unconscious prince in your arms.
the sun began to rise when you finally made your way to the shore, carefully carrying Chuuya in your arms, praying that he was still alive despite the events you had witnessed. With each push of your arms and tail against the sand, you ensured that Chuuya remained untouched by the encroaching waves, prepared to shield him from any potential danger.
Your gaze remained fixed on Chuuya, searching for any signs of life, your worry deepening with each passing moment. Tenderly, you removed the remnants of his shirt, exposing his chest, and leaned your head against it, listening intently for the reassuring beat of his heart. Relief washed over you when you felt his heart pulsating beneath your touch and observed the gentle rise and fall of his chest—Chuuya was alive, breathing. A laugh of relief escaped your lips as you attempted to calm yourself, the tension slowly dissipating.
Leaning back on your arms, you admired Chuuya's features, daring to compare his beauty to that of the enchanting sea. As you examined him more closely, you noticed the freckles scattered across his face and the slight scar tracing his lip. He was the epitome of beauty, captivating you with every glance.
Unbeknownst to you, Sigma had followed your movements silently, Though he kept his distance from the shore, he could see you clearly, holding the unconscious Chuuya in your arms.
"Oh no," Sigma murmured, his gaze fixed on you. Before he could utter another word, Dazai submerged his head, leaning on Sigma to get a better view of the situation.
"Get off me, you idiot!" Sigma exclaimed, annoyance evident in his voice. He pushed Dazai away, causing him to stumble slightly. Dazai looked up at Sigma, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement.
"Sigma! I didn't expect to find you here, looking so lovely," Dazai grinned, his attention then shifting to you and Chuuya. He let out a laugh and remarked, "And I certainly didn't expect to find the princess here."
"Listen to me, you maniac. The king mustn't find out about this. We'll pretend it never happened," Sigma sighed, his eyes fixed on Dazai, who seemed less than attentive. Growing frustrated, Sigma pinched Dazai's tail, causing him to yelp in surprise. Dazai glanced back at Sigma with a pout on his face.
"Are you paying attention now?" Sigma asked, his annoyance palpable.
"Yes," Dazai whined, rolling his eyes at Sigma's sternness.
"No telling the king, no telling anyone, and I remain in one piece. Do you understand?" Sigma emphasized, pointing directly at Dazai's face.
"Yeah, I got it," Dazai replied sarcastically. He then shifted his gaze back to you, wearing a playful grin. Before Sigma could protest, Dazai asked, "Hey, can you repeat what you just said? I wasn't really paying attention."
"I said the king is going to kill me." Sigma muttered, his face fell even further upon hearing a soft hum emanating from you, catching his attention.
"What is she doing?!" Sigma exclaimed, his voice filled with concern. But before he could call out to you, Dazai swiftly placed his hand over Sigma's mouth, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. He watched with amusement as your astonished gaze fixated on Chuuya's face.
"What would I give to live where you are?" You softly murmured to Chuuya. your fingers gently tracing down his cheek and lingering over a cut you hadn't noticed before. Lost in the moment, you spoke once again, "What would I pay to stay here beside you?"
"What would I do to see you smiling at me?" you softly sang, a smile gracing your face as you admired Chuuya. He began to stir, his hand reaching out, searching for the hand that held his face. With a mixture of surprise and joy, you looked at his hand intertwining with yours, and a radiant smile spread across your face as you continued, "Where would we walk? Where would we run? If we could stay all day in the sun?"
"Just you and me, and I could be..." you whispered, your voice filled with love and devotion, your gaze locked with his. Chuuya slowly opened his eyes, his gaze meeting yours, though the sun cast a silhouette upon your features. A smile tugged at his lips as he heared your voice.
"Part of your world," you whispered softly to Chuuya, marveling at the radiant gleam in his mismatched eyes as they caught the sunlight. The enchanting moment lingered, but the arrival of Albatross and Hirotsu interrupted the tranquility. Your instinct kicked in, urging you to retreat back to the safety of the ocean. Swiftly, you slipped beneath the water's surface, your tail disappearing from sight before anyone could notice your presence.
Chuuya lifted his head, catching a glimpse of your tail vanishing into the water. Albatross reached him, showering him with affectionate licks on his face. Yet, Chuuya couldn't tear his gaze away from the sea, fixated on the spot where you had just vanished. Hirotsu approached him, a rare smile spreading across his face, relieved to see Chuuya safe and sound.
"Oh, Chuuya, you certainly have a knack for stirring the sadistic strain in my blood pressure, don't you?" Hirotsu remarked, extending a helping hand to support Chuuya. Chuuya, lost in his thoughts, held his head, feeling a throbbing pain surge through his temples.
"A... a girl saved me," Chuuya declared, his eyes widening as he continued to stare out at the sea, disregarding Hirotsu's words as he attempted to piece together the puzzle.
"She... she was talking to me," Chuuya proclaimed, stepping away from Hirotsu's grasp and moving closer to the water's edge. His heart raced, unsure if it was due to the lack of oxygen he had endured during the shipwreck or the emotions he was feeling.
"She had the most beautiful voice..." Chuuya swooned, his knees growing weak from the traumatic events he had just experienced.
"Sire, I believe you've had your fill of seawater. Let's head back," Hirotsu suggested, his voice laced with amusement. He gently cradled Chuuya in his arms, providing support by wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Come on, Albatross," Hirotsu called, beckoning the faithful companion to follow. Together, they made their way back to the castle, Hirotsu remaining silent, allowing Chuuya to process the events of the day. However, Chuuya couldn't shake the voice of his savior from his mind.
Meanwhile, you, hidden behind a rock, continued to watch Chuuya from a distance. Your heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation, knowing that your paths might cross again someday. You felt an overwhelming connection to him, and the hope of meeting him once more filled you with joy.
"I don't know when, I don't know how, but I know something's starting right now," you sang, a radiant smile lighting up your face as butterflies fluttered in your belly. You slowly crawled across the stone, never taking your eyes off Chuuya's retreating figure.
"Watch and you'll see... Someday I'll be," you continued singing, a grin spreading across your face as you raised yourself higher on the rock. Your eyes remained fixated on Chuuya, your tail flickering with excitement beneath the water's surface.
"Part of your world," you concluded, a wistful tone in your voice, leaning on your arms and then getting back up. Suddenly, a wave crashed against the rock behind you, sending droplets of water in all directions. Laughing, you sat down again, running your hands through your hair, a lovesick expression on your face as you watched the prince vanish from sight.
Meanwhile, unbeknownst to everyone, Mushitarou and Shibusawa observed the entire scene closely, relaying the events to their leader through their eyes.
𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻...
@yuugen-benni
𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱 © 2023 𝗩𝘀𝗸𝗸𝗼𝗹𝘆𝗮𝗮. 𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗱𝗶𝗳𝘆 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺.
#-the little mermaid🦈#bsd x reader#bungou stray dogs#bungou stray dogs x reader#nakahara chuuya x reader#chuuya x reader#chuuya nakahara x reader#chuuya fluff#chuuya nakahara#nakahara chuuya#chuuya x y/n#chuuya x you#The little mermaid AU#bsd dazai#dazai osamu
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The Right Guy***
Crosshair X F!Reader X Tech
word count: 5k
With two guys fawning over you, you’re left in the difficult position of picking the right one for you. But, something tells you that you always knew who.
warnings: NSFW so 18+ only. Female reader, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, mutual pining. Mentions of jealousy, brother rivalry, love triangle trope (no clonecest), Tech is rejected, slight bitterness, embarrassing moment, fluff but angst, swearing, aftercare, not proofread. This is primarily a Crosshair centred fic.
authors note: request for my incredible friend @raevulsix - love u so much and everything you do. Enjoy. ♥️
Never in a million lifetimes would you fathom the notion of two people fighting for your affections. Yet, as you inadvertently eavesdropped on Crosshair and Tech engaging in a heated exchange one night within the cockpit of the Marauder, you realised the gravity of the predicament rather quickly.
Initially, a glimmer of satisfaction twinkled within you. It was almost as if you were exalted, relishing the fact that two men who were more or less polar opposites were locked in a contentious rivalry over you.
However, that moment of self-smugness swiftly vanished, replaced by a profound sense of dread as you comprehended the complete unintended consequences of your actions. To the best of your knowledge, you had not deliberately misled anyone. You had maintained a civil and friendly demeanor towards all the Batchers, but evidently, certain emotional attachments had formed with two of them.
Rather than revealing yourself upon hearing their argument, you stealthily retreated to your bunk, resolute in addressing the situation in the morning. However, the dawn couldn't arrive quick enough. You lay awake, restlessly tossing and turning for hours on end, fixating your gaze upon Crosshair's adjacent bunk and Tech's elevated one directly above yours.
“This is so stupid.” You grumbled to yourself in a huff, not meaning to speak aloud which is why you let out a small shriek when a voice replied.
“And what would that be?” You sat up abruptly, narrowly missing hitting your head off the bunk above and stare over at Echo’s form at the end of your bed.
“Crap, sorry Echo. Did I wake you?”
“Nah,” he shakes his head dismissively, “dumb and dumber however…” his voice trailed off, hinting that he was well aware of the cause behind your restless state.
You sank back into your bedding, rubbing your hands wearily over your face. "Echo, I honestly had no idea any of this would happen," you lamented, frustration seeping through your voice.
Echo chuckled lightly as he settled himself at the end of your bed. "It ain't your fault. Those two have had their sights set on you for quite some time."
A warmth spread within you at his words. "Really?" you couldn't help but inquire, finding no reason for Echo to lie to you.
Despite the tumultuous nature of two brothers currently turning against each other in the cockpit, again comes a self-centered thought as part of you couldn't help but revel in the fact that one of them, in particular, held feelings for you.
He had captured your attention from the very beginning, but you knew it was best to remain silent about your attraction. After all, you were simply stationed as their medic, and forming attachments was frowned upon and of course, complicated. However, there was something undeniably magnetic about him.
"Yes, really," Echo affirmed, drawing you out of your thoughts. Both of you trained your eyes on the cockpit door as it suddenly hissed open, revealing Crosshair stealthily making his way to the opposite end of the ship. Before disappearing from sight, he cast you a - dare you say - meaningful glance. You exhaled deeply, relieved that he hadn't overheard your conversation. Turning back to Echo, you posed the question that weighed heavily on your mind, "What should I do?"
Echo appeared equally perplexed, finding himself at a loss for an answer. While he had witnessed the occasional squabble over girls during his time with the 501st, this situation seemed to transcend just mere disagreements over a girl at 79’s.
"I don't know," he admitted, a hint of uncertainty coloring his words. "Perhaps you should talk to both of them. Express your feelings about the situation and make it clear that you want no part in their rivalry."
Observing a flicker of apprehension in your eyes, Echo's own widened slightly. "Unless... Do you feel differently?"
Preferring not to disclose which of the two had captured your feelings, lest rumors being spread, you thanked Echo for the chat. Settling back into your bedding, you willed your weary body to succumb to sleep, hoping that dreams would offer respite from this mess.
»»————- 🌙 ————-««
As the morning arrived, you awoke to Hunter gently shaking your shoulder, urging you to prepare for the upcoming mission. However, all movement ceased as the familiar sounds of another altercation erupted from the cockpit.
Furrowing your brow, you composed yourself and secured your hair tightly in place before cautiously approaching the scene.
"I'm simply stating that she would be better off accompanying me on this mission. I'll require her assistance,"
“Oh yeah? And why is that, Tech?” Crosshair snarled at his brother, who remained engrossed in his datapad, visibly annoyed by his younger sibling's persistent questioning and obvious jealousy.
"There are numerous tasks for which she is highly capable. Sending her with you to scout the area is a futile strategy and a waste of her abilities," Tech replied matter-of-factly. Both of them were aware of your presence, yet neither bothered to turn and acknowledge you.
You sidled up beside Wrecker, whispering up to him, "What's happening?" His response came in the form of a chuckle.
"They're fighting over ya."
Shifting uncomfortably, you observed the ongoing bickering about who should be your partner. "Again?" you muttered to yourself more than to Wrecker.
Eventually, you reached your limit and stepped in between the warring brothers. "Can you two please speak to me as if I'm actually here?" you asserted, your gaze shifting between them. Their mouths snapped shut as you glared at each of them with equal intensity. "And to answer your questions, I'll be partnering with Hunter," you huffed and walked away before either of them could utter a word.
"Nice one," Crosshair grumbled to his goggled brother, who merely sighed and shook his head.
"I believe she's irritated with both of us. It also hasn't escaped my notice that she overheard our argument last night as she was going to bed," Tech mumbled, adjusting his goggles on his nose before ensuring he had all the necessary equipment before the departure.
Crosshairs frown remained etched on his face as he watched you storm off, accompanied by the rest of the team. His heart pounded in his chest, a foreign sensation that revealed his nerves—a feeling he was unfamiliar with. He understood that the odds of winning your affection were slim, especially with Tech as his rival. In fact, he wouldn't be surprised if you wanted nothing to do with either of them.
»»————- 🌙 ————-««
"You want to talk about it?" Hunter's voice broke through your thoughts as you scouted ahead together, lost in your own world. His words resonated, not requiring his enhanced senses to detect the tension in the air.
"There's not much to say," you grunted, pushing through some bushes. "Other than the fact that things are incredibly awkward for me."
Hunter chuckled, parting some foliage and helping you through. "Why don't you just tell both of them that you're not interested? Simple."
If only it were that easy.
Hunter swiftly picked up on your sudden silence.
He stopped and looked at you, unscrewing the canteen attached to his hip and passing it to you. "Unless you feel differently?"
"Funny," you replied, mouthing him a quick thanks as you took a drink. "Echo said the same thing."
"So, you have feelings for them?" Hunter's surprise was evident, yet not entirely unexpected. "Don't you think it's best to tell Crosshair and Tech that?”
You sighed, "Of course I like both of them," you rolled your eyes, aware that the time had come to address your true feelings. "But... I like Crosshair more, okay?"
Hunter's reaction was a mix of surprise and understanding. "Why don’t you let him know?”
“But what about Tech? How do I tell him I prefer his brother?” You groaned, feeling the weight of the situation bearing down on you, more stressful than the war itself.
Hunter hums thoughtfully, attaching his canteen back to his hip as you both proceeded ahead, “Tech would not take it to heart. He may be a little bitter but not as much as Crosshair would be.”
"Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better," you muttered miserably.
As you both crouched down, surveying the settlement you were tasked to infiltrate, it became clear that it was too early to approach without detection. Deciding to wait it out until nightfall, Hunter informed the rest of the team via comms to exercise the plan.
"So," Hunter began, getting comfortable on the ground and removing his helmet, placing it aside. "Why Crosshair?"
Blushing, you found it difficult to put your feelings into words. You shrugged nonchalantly. "Are you really asking me this?"
“Yeah,” he smirks, “it’s kind of interesting that out of any of us, you settle on the one who doesn’t really speak.”
You chuckled and nodded, understanding his point. "He's just... different. In a good way," you said simply, not wanting to delve into the depth of your emotions and explain why you believed he was the most remarkable person you knew.
“Sure he doesn’t talk much and he’s a stubborn git, but I just like him, y'know? He’s always been nice to me and I just feel a type of way around him.”
“I’m aware,” Hunter replies coyly which only adds a heat to your blush. Of course he knew. He probably heard the way your heart rattled against your rib cage when Crosshair walks on by.
You're tugging at the grass on the ground, almost like a small child when she’s feeling bashful about her feelings. "And he's quite attractive," you whispered quietly, more to yourself than to Hunter, but he heard and stifled a laugh.
"I'm sure he'd love to hear that," Hunter chuckled, playing with his knife idly during the wait.
"What, and boost his ego? I don't think so," you replied, joining in the laughter. However, your amusement quickly faded when a snapped twig caught your attention. Mortification washed over you as you looked up to find none other than the subject of your conversation leaning confidently against a tree.
"You can't boost my ego about something I already know," Crosshair smirked from behind his helmet, his voice modulated, further unsettling your already unsteady heartbeat.
Hunter looks between the two of you, his frown deepening as he scolds his comrade, "And why aren't you at your post?"
Crosshair pushes himself off the tree and strides toward you, standing in front of you and causing you to tilt your head up to meet his gaze. He then crouches down, intensifying the intimacy of the moment. "Well, Sarge, I would've stayed if I hadn't overheard a certain someone confess their feelings for me."
Your brows furrow, attempting to suppress the sinking feeling of being overheard. "How did you hear?" Hunter inquiries on your behalf, relieving you from the need to find words that seem to escape you.
Crosshair nods towards his wrist, directing your gaze to his device. Horror washes over you as your eyes widen. "Hunter! You left your comm on?" You slap at his wrist, disconnecting the transmission, and feel a sense of despair at the turn of events. If Crosshair heard, then... Oh no. Tech.
"So, you have feelings for me?" His helmet hissed as he removed it, while Hunter discreetly walked off, leaving you two alone to have a brief conversation and is likely hitting his head against the tree at his stupid mistake.
You fidget with your fingers, feeling a mix of nervousness. "I really didn't want you to find out this way... I'm sorry."
He chuckles, a dark and captivating sound that sets your heart ablaze. Must he be so enchanting while you're in the midst of embarrassment? "Do you not think I feel the same about how you found out about me liking you? Arguing with Tech?"
"I suppose not," you respond, averting your gaze, finding his intense stare too much to handle. But then his hand gently brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.
"I suppose it doesn't matter anymore. We don't need to hide it," he whispers, his face now just inches away from yours.
Your eyes flutter closed instinctively, embracing his closeness and the warmth of his minty breath. "No," you sigh shakily, filled with eagerness at the prospect of Crosshair possibly, finally, kissing you, "I suppose we don't."
He inches even closer, his nose grazing against yours as his breath intertwines with yours. His composure remains steady, displaying his calmness amidst your own trembling knees. Thank goodness you're seated.
His lips ghost over yours, but suddenly, a pang of realization hits you. "Wait, no." You pull back, meeting his concerned gaze.
"What's wrong?" he asks, a tinge of nervousness evident in his expression at your sudden rejection.
"I... I should really talk to Tech first. I owe him that much," you explain, grappling with the weight of your decision. It doesn't feel right to fully embrace Crosshair when another man is vying for your affections. You want to handle this situation with honesty and fairness. "I need to talk to Tech before moving forward."
Crosshair observes you and absorbs your words. "You know, that's one of the many things I like about you, kitten," he compliments, his finger gently grazing your chin. "Always so selfless."
You mentally moan at his touch, the subtle gesture melting your resolve. However, you know you must focus on speaking with Tech and hope that he doesn't resent you. It doesn't feel right to leap into a relationship with Crosshair while another man's emotions are still at stake. "Thank you," you rasp, watching as he stands and readjusts his helmet on his head.
"When you're ready, you know where to find me, princess.”
»»————- 🌙 ————-««
"Tech, can I talk to you?" you ask, trying to gauge his reaction. He doesn't immediately look up, engrossed in his work. It's hard to tell whether he's avoiding eye contact with you or simply immersed in the task at hand.
"Is this in regard to what was said over the transmission?" he replies, still not lifting his head to meet your gaze. Your stomach swirls in guilt as there was a mix of disappointment in his tone. Though, there was also a heavy sign of acceptance too.
You’re somewhat relieved to find that Tech is willing to have a conversation with you, despite the tension that had hung in the air between all of you since the awkward revelation. He remains focused on his task under the control panel as you approach him.
"Yeah, listen, I'm sorry that you found out this way. I wanted to tell you to your face, but-"
"There is no need for the apology," he interrupts, finally sitting up and wiping his hands against his legs. He looks up at you, holding a spanner in his hand. "I am not entitled to receive an apology when it is I who should be saying sorry."
You tilt your head in confusion. "What for?"
He starts twirling the tool around in his hand, speaking calmly. "Well, Crosshair and I arguing about our feelings for you is not how I would have wanted you to find out about my own unexplainable feelings for you. Although you prefer Crosshair, and I fail to understand why he has captured your affections more,” he trails off with a subtle eye roll but notices the look on your face.
“I... I am simply happy if you are happy. I won't be distant from you, aside from keeping my feelings in check. You are still, and always will be, my friend."
You decide not to delve into the reasons why you like Crosshair, as Tech is already aware of them. Instead, you express your gratitude. "I appreciate your kindness and understanding. You're a good man, Tech."
He responds with a touch of modesty, twirling the spanner in his hand. "That is subjective, depending on the person... but thank you nonetheless. I hope Crosshair treats you the way you deserve to be treated." A small hint of a smile graces his face, and thankfully, you detect no signs of hatred or bitterness, aside from his genuine confusion about your preference for Crosshair.
You stay and chat for a while, engaging in casual small talk that eases the tension between you. It feels good to have a normal conversation with Tech, reaffirming the friendship that underlies everything. As for Crosshair, you held back for a while.
Just because you cleared the air with Tech doesn't mean you’re comfortable enough to jump into Crosshairs arms straight away. So with a few flirtatious gazes between the two of you, it isn’t until a week or two (you can never tell when you’re away doing missions) when the two of you get a chance to talk. Alone.
The Marauder is quiet, the others having left to do something or other when you decide to stay behind. It had been a hectic few days and even though there was still a small amount of tension left between Crosshair and Tech, overall it was better than before.
As you sat on the steps of the Marauder, gazing up at the scattered stars, a familiar noise caught your attention. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Crosshair emerging from the distance, his talon frame unmistakable. The thrill of knowing he had come back just to see you coursed through your veins, but a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, wondering if there was something more serious driving his return.
"You're back early," you commented, your voice steady as you tried to maintain a cool demeanor.
"Problem?" he replied, stopping at the foot of the steps, a playful smirk gracing his features as he towered over you once again.
"Not at all," you smirked back, though you couldn't help but hold your arms over your chest, attempting to conceal the unsteady rhythm of your heartbeat. "But why are you back?"
His gaze locked onto yours, studying you intently as he slid his rifle off his shoulder, letting it thud onto the floor. With a toothpick hanging between his teeth, he plucked it out and held it between his fingers. "I had to see you."
You gulped, feeling your shyness overwhelm you as his presence grew closer. "Oh yeah?" you managed to say, your voice betraying your nerves.
Crosshair chuckled, a knowing glint in his eyes as he sensed the mix of excitement and nervousness radiating from you. Flicking the toothpick to the ground, he slowly leaned in, causing you to slide back against the steps as his hands landed on either side of you. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the intensity of your connection.
"Yeah," he whispered, his voice laced with desire and a touch of vulnerability.
Your heart races as Crosshair leans closer, his presence overwhelming and intoxicating. The space between you feels charged with anticipation, and you find yourself becoming acutely aware of every breath and every beat of your heart.
You maintain eye contact with him, a mixture of curiosity and desire in your gaze. The tension between you both is insane, and you can't help but feel a surge of excitement deep within you. After all, you felt like you had been waiting for this moment forever.
His voice, deep and velvety, sends shivers down your spine as he continues, his words laced with a hint of playfulness. "I couldn't resist the thought of seeing you again."
A faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you feel your own nervousness dissipating, replaced by a growing sense of comfort in his presence. "Well, I can't say I'm disappointed to see you either."
Crosshair’s hands, strong and steady, remain planted on either side of you, creating a tantalizing closeness that makes your heart flutter. His gaze flickers between your eyes and your lips, his own breath mingling with yours.
As the air crackles with unspoken desire, you gather the courage to speak. "What really brought you back, Crosshair? Is everything alright?"
His smirk widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Everything's fine, darling. I just couldn't stay away any longer."
The electricity in the air is palpable as he leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours. His pet names he gives you make you weak and excited. Your breath hitches in anticipation, a mix of excitement and apprehension swirling within you.
But instead of closing the gap, Crosshair surprises you by pausing, his gaze filled with a newfound tenderness. "Do you still want to wait a while?”
You melt at his words, despite his intense demeanour he is effortlessly so soft and courteous of you. You reach up, gently placing a hand on his cheek, your touch warm against his stubbled skin. "I don’t think I can wait any longer. I can’t get you out of my mind."
He leans into your touch, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. Finding none, he lets out a breath he seemed to be holding and closes the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips.
His kiss is soft and chaste, pulling back to see your dazed eyes. “Kitten, do you truly want me?”
“Yes,” you breathe, leaning up to kiss him, “I want you. I need you.”
He kisses back with urgency, your fingers tangled in the short tuffs of his silver locks. The steps you're leaning on are uncomfortable but you didn’t care as long as it was him you were kissing on them. He positions himself between your legs, knee pressing accidentally to your core that emits a soft moan from you.
He smiles against the plumpness of your now slightly bruised lips, “Did that feel good?”
“Uh-huh,” you sigh, not at all embarrassed at obvious signs of your arousal.
He leans down, kissing the softness of your neck as his hands find your waist. “Have you ever been touched down there?” His words are raspy and sent shivers down your spine.
“Not for a while,” you admit, breathless. “You can touch me...”
Crosshair is slick, his hand coming down between both of your legs as he gently cups your pussy through your pants and groans in satisfaction at how he can feel how aroused you got so easily. “You’re dripping already, aren’t you? You’ve been wanting me for the last two weeks haven’t you?”
You cracked a short laugh, “try the last few months.”
Something snaps in Crosshair at your words because in a second your pants are being ripped from your body and tossed caressly onto the ground. He pulls away from the trail of kisses he was planting along your neck and down your body. He lowers himself on the steps and you shudder at the cool night air fanning against your exposed body.
Slowly, he hooks a finger in your panties and pulls them to the side. The look on his face is no better way described than enamored. “Oh kitten, you’ve got a very pretty pussy.” He sighs softly, his breath fanning against your sex that has you chewing hard on your lower lip.
“It’s all for you, Crosshair.” Anticipation lingers in the air until he begins to slowly stroke a digit against your soaked lips, collecting your slick on his fingers that he admires with his trained eyes. You were about to tease him, wondering if this had been a fantasy of his when he curls a finger inside of you.
You gasp at the sensation, Crosshair looking up from between your legs with fire in his eyes. “Is this okay?”
“Y-yes,” you moan, propping yourself on your elbows to watch as his wrist turns and starts to pulse in and out of you simultaneously, “fuck that feels really good.”
He smirks in satisfaction, continuing to dip his finger in your wet heat prodding bluntly at your soft insides that have gone slick and trembling. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as you clumsily try to rock back onto his dexterous hand. “Eager, sweetie?”
“Can you blame me? I’ve w-wanted you - this - from the start.” Crosshair smirks, the waver in your beautiful voice causing a small bead of precom to leak from his cock. He crooks his finger, stroking your special spot.
Crosshair's whole body was shivering as you, someone he had adored for so long, cries out in pleasure and drips down his wrist. You’re being perfectly responsive to his touch. “That’s it darling,” he whispered, inserting another finger as he looked up at you, seeing your head tilted back, eyes closed, “I want you to look at me.”
You obeyed his order and looked back down at him, hips rocking vigorously as his fingers stretched you out. You lock eyes, something that felt more intimate than what he was doing to you. Or so you thought until he started to lick your pussy. “Oh Crosshair, baby…” you whine at the sensation of his warm, thick tongue.
He revels in your whimpers, moaning against you himself as he laps up your juices, slick glossing over his chin but he didn’t mind at all. “You’re delicious.”
Reddening at his words, your hand lands on the back of his head, gently guiding him as you eagerly ask for more. He was right, you were eager. His tongue flicks violently over your clit, causing you to curse and moan loudly that echoed around the mountainous region. “That’s it kitten, don’t be shy about expressing your wants.” He chuckles, vibrations tickling you pleasantly.
“M-more, please.” You beg, eyes glossing with tears as your release starts to teeter on the edge, the pleasure being too much.
“As you wish,” Crosshair mutters, curling a finger back inside you all the while lapping at your little pearl. “You’re mine, I’m so glad you’re mine.”
If it wasn’t for the feeling of his tongue assaulting your cunt, you’re certain your legs would be shaking at his words and not his actions. “What if the others see us?” You whisper, caring but also half not caring.
He pulls back, looking up at you with sopping wet lips and a smirk, “Then they’ll witness my princess cumming on my tongue,”
He grips your thighs, burying his face back in between your legs when your orgasm hits. Your climax shook your entire body, stars blurring your vision and not just the ones above you both. “F-Fuck, crosshair!”
He pulls away, teasingly sucking on your clit and retreating with a small pop as he watches you come down from your high, caressing your legs gently before picking up pants and gently sliding them back on you.
Both of your breathing is shallow and rough, especially yours, as you find solace in each other's arms. "Are you okay?" he whispers into your hair, his voice filled with concern and tenderness. He lifts you, settling you into his lap and wrapping his arms securely around you.
"Yeah," you reply breathlessly, feeling a wave of exhaustion washing over you. "That was amazing."
He grows quiet, the weight of the situation hanging in the air. Sometimes after such intimate moments, silence speaks louder than words. Eventually, he breaks the silence. "I know the others will be a little confused about us being together."
"Oh? So there is an 'us' at least," you muse, trying to alleviate some of the tension you sense in him. "But can I ask why you think that?" You approach the topic with sensitivity, aware of the serious undertone in his voice.
He blinks, his gaze shifting from you to the stars above. "As they say, I'm not much of a 'conversationalist'," he begins, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "So they're gonna wonder what exactly it is we have in common."
You nod slowly, understanding his concern. But you're not bothered by others' opinions. All that matters is the connection between the two of you and how you can nurture and build your relationship. "I've always enjoyed our chats, even when you didn't speak to me for the first week."
He huffs in amusement, retrieving a toothpick from a small pouch and placing it between his teeth. "I have to admit, I was shy."
You raise an eyebrow in slight shock. The idea of Crosshair being shy seems almost unimaginable. It's as if he can read your thoughts because he playfully nudges you. "Yeah, yeah, odd right?"
Shaking your head with a smile, you lean in and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. "That's quite sweet, knowing you were all shy and cutesy around me."
"Cutesy is not the word I'd use," he rolls his eyes playfully, gnawing on the toothpick, "but I think it shows how willing I am to open up to you. Or how easy I find it, anyway."
Your heart flutters at his words, appreciating his willingness to show moments of vulnerability. You watch him, captivated by his features. Despite their sharpness, there's a softness in his eyes that melts your heart. He's truly beautiful.
"What are you looking at?" he asks, not turning to you but sensing your gaze upon him.
"Can I have a toothpick?" you inquire, a mischievous glimmer in your eyes.
Slowly, he turns to look at you, his gaze lingering on your lips and then returning to your eyes. "You know I don't share."
Yet, he reaches back into his pocket and retrieves a toothpick, handing it to you. "But I suppose I won't mind sharing one or two of these with you from time to time."
The two of you continue sitting under the starlit sky, locked in each other's embrace.
Masterlist
tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr r @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone e @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @agenteliix @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @imalovernotahater @the-good-shittt @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions
#crosshair x reader#tech x reader#the bad batch#tbb#nahoney22 writes#the bad batch x reader#crosshair x you#tbb crosshair x reader#bad batch
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Powder and Feathers
Hey, do you like fucked up fallen angels?
Do you like even more fucked up fallen angels than the first fallen angel, who are transmasc manipulative French bastards who love to do both murder and assassination? In the mood for a dark romance, perhaps, where said angel fixates on just some guy and decides to bring him home and obsess over him forever? Do you like cats, also?
Do you like on and off toxic and supportive sibling relationships? Do you love complicated and completely hypocritical relationships with the Catholic Church? Do you love revolutionaries that tell lies?
Do you love cuckoldry and self esteem issues? Do you love when rape victims can't separate the sense of being seen as desirable from their sense of self? Do you love t r a u m a ?
Did you by any chance read Victor Hugo's Les Misérables and internalise way too much of it?
If the answer to any or all of the above is yes, I think you might really like my serial, Powder and Feathers, which is about all that shit and more, and you can read it online for free!
Rated E, M/M. WIP.
It seems to Aimé Deverell that there is very little point to life, except for what pleasures can be enjoyed before the grave. Life is short - thank God - but at least there's enough in the world to dull the senses in the meantime.
That philosophy shatters like glass when he meets Jean-Pierre, an angel.
Read on Ao3 (free) / / Read on WorldAnvil (free) / / Read on Medium (paid)
First chapter here:
When the Great Fall happens, it happens all at once.
It does not feel like falling: instead, it is as if the very world comes up to meet it at speed, launched with impossible speed, and when its feet (feet! feet!) are struck from beneath by the awful ground, it screams. For the first time in its existence (for before now, it has never lived) the angel feels pain.
Many new experiences happen in one rush, in one singular moment: it fills lungs, which it never had before, and feels the cold air rush down a new throat to inflate them, feels it sting; it feels the desperate soak of the rain on its skin, trickling down its body and flattening the feathers of its wings; it screams, and it is chilled to find that the noise that comes forth is just that, just noise.
Corporeality cloaks its body in a new skin, made of flesh and bone and hair and blood, and it screams, and screams, and screams.
The rain comes down from the heavens in heavy, steel-grey sheets, buffeting its fresh skin, and it comes down so heavily and so hard that every drop stings. The new flesh is delicate, and the bruises ache as they bloom to the surface, staining the pale expanse: it is gasping, its two arms (two arms!) clutched about its naked chest (a chest, filled to the brim with treasures, two lungs, a heart, a heart!), and its two wings (blessed normality!) curve inward to shield it, even as it drops to its knees in the grass and the mud.
It is alone on the hillside, and it aches, for it has never been alone before: it has only ever been one amidst legions, one amidst an ordered unit, and here, in the grass, upon the earth, the loneliness takes its heart (a heart, though, really! what next? what next?) and cleaves it in two, pours salt into its veins, and its sobs are guttural and heaving, wrenched from its throat.
Time passes.
It has never experienced time before, time as a thing that moves, time as a river that washes over its shivering skin, and it has never experienced such cold as this, cold that eats beneath its flesh, burrows into its bones, the only bare semblance of warmth coming in the tears that eke out from beneath its eyelids, so hot on its cheeks it thinks it will burn, it will burn—
It does not burn.
Exhaustion overtakes it, and it falls still in the mud, the filth clinging sticky to its skin, forming as sludge in its feathers.
When the rain stops, and the sun rises, it does not stir.
***
JEAN-PIERRE
“Jean,” said a low voice, and Jean-Pierre stirred slightly, raising his head. His mouth was dry, and waking brought him once again to the sickening ebb and flow of the water beneath the damned vessel they were on. His sleep had been fitful, rolling over and over without any space to do so, and he’d barely been asleep for what seemed like a few heavy, black moments before he was being poked at. “Jean, wake up.”
“I’m awake,” Jean-Pierre mumbled, sitting forward, and he felt Asmodeus’ hand cup his cheek as he tugged him forward, out of the awkward bunk Jean-Pierre had been crammed into. “Why did you wake me up?” He sounded tired and plaintive, he knew, but Asmodeus was not deterred: he met Jean-Pierre’s gaze and smiled. “I haven’t slept in—”
“We’re here,” Asmodeus said softly, and Jean-Pierre stumbled in his haste to get out of the bunk.
His clothes were rumpled and he was still in his shoes, falling over himself on unsteady feet, and as the ship rocked beneath their feet on the back of a small swell, he felt himself gag, and hid his mouth against the crook of his elbow.
“I have your case,” Asmodeus said. “Colm is already on deck.”
“He would be,” Jean-Pierre muttered, and Asmodeus clucked his tongue in disapproval, but still he smiled: he always smiled, did Jean-Pierre’s brother. Jean-Pierre thought at times that it was the coldest smile on Earth.
The journey from their cabin – a small recess upon the damnable ship where Jean-Pierre had spent the entirety of their journey from New York, staring into space and vomiting in turns – up to the ship’s upper deck was excruciating, and Jean-Pierre walked with a heavy haze of nausea wrapped around him like a cowl. His stomach was empty of anything but bile: therefore, it was only bile that he tipped down the side of the ship when he reached the deck’s side and vomited.
“Jean-Pierre,” said Asmodeus, but Colm was already behind him, and Jean-Pierre grunted as Colm put his arms around Jean-Pierre’s waist and tipped him over his shoulder, carrying him to the gangplank that led from the ship.
Perhaps he should have been embarrassed, but he wasn’t, not really: he fisted his hands in the fabric of Colm’s shirt and pressed his face against the hard flesh of his brother’s shoulder as Colm moved quickly with him. The nausea lingered even once they were settled on the safe, sturdy ground of the dock, and as they waited for Asmodeus to join them – Colm had swiftly bypassed a great queue of people, smiling and waving them down as he passed. They had been charmed by him. Traditionally, people were very charmed by Colm.
“Here,” Colm said softly, and pressed a bottle into Jean-Pierre’s hand, the plastic cool against his fingers and moist with condensation. Jean-Pierre drank from it heavily, half-collapsed as he was on top of Asmodeus’ antique chest, his knees up in line with his chin, and leaning into Colm’s side.
Colm was warm, heavy, solid, and Jean-Pierre leaned his sweated brow against the hard line of his waist without shame for the people that turned to glance at them as they passed on the dock. Asmodeus’ trunk was a huge thing, easily big enough for all three of them to sit on if they wanted to, but for now Jean-Pierre settled on it himself with Colm stood beside him, holding his own case – a leather case, vintage as Asmodeus’ own, though by decades instead of centuries.
They both seemed quite apart from Jean-Pierre’s own luggage, which was a cheap white plastic affair, and looked quite silly held in one of Asmodeus’ massive hands.
Asmodeus was tall, strapping, handsome: possessed of squared shoulders and a narrow waist, dark skin and finely-chiselled features, he rather resembled a model at the worst of times, but now, descending the gangplank from the ship in the Dublin sunshine, wearing a tight grey suit and a pink shirt open at the neck, he looked ever more so.
Jean-Pierre’s polypropylene suitcase could only detract so much.
“Feel better?” Colm asked softly.
“Mm,” Jean-Pierre hummed. “Just— hungry.”
“You’ve barely eaten in two weeks,” Colm murmured. “I’m not surprised you’re hungry. We’ll get something to eat before we go find the house.”
Jean-Pierre nodded his head, pressing his face into his hands, his elbows against his knees, and stayed like that as Asmodeus stepped toward them. No matter that he was on solid ground, he still felt very much like it was moving underneath him, and he wondered if the nausea would ever cease.
“Better?” asked Asmodeus, and he reached out to touch Jean-Pierre’s hair, touching it where it had come loose from its sweat-soaked bun. Jean-Pierre grunted a sound that was neither an affirmative or a negative, but took the elastic Asmodeus offered him, and reached up to tie it back. “You’re alright, Jean-Pierre. We’re here. No more sailing. Let’s go eat something.”
“I’ve no appetite,” Jean-Pierre mumbled.
“Here,” said Colm.
“Wait, no, don’t, you don’t have to—” Jean-Pierre exhaled a breath without meaning to as Colm brushed his knuckles against his cheek, and he felt the nausea, the unsteadiness, the desperate sickness, drain entirely from his body. With the next breath he took in, though still tired, he felt reenergised.
Colm looked quite pale.
“You needn’t have done that,” said Jean-Pierre. “I am no child, unable to withstand the weight of my own feeling.”
“You need to eat,” said Colm, green about his gills as he coughed against the back of his hand, his throat bobbing as he swallowed back the visible urge to vomit. “Let’s go.”
“There’s a taxi waiting for us,” said Asmodeus, smiling his cold smile, and Jean-Pierre couldn’t help but feel a desperate affection for both of his brothers as he stood to his feet, putting one arm on Colm’s shoulder and squeezing even while Asmodeus gestured toward him. “Take your luggage, will you? It doesn’t suit me.”
“I know,” Jean-Pierre murmured, smiling slightly despite himself, and he took the case Asmodeus pushed into his hands.
***
“What is it?”
“I found him out by the wheat field—”
“What is it?”
“He looked so… I couldn’t leave him, Maman, I couldn’t—"
The voices were heard through new ears, and the owner of them stayed very, very still, digesting the sound, the physicality, of all it now was. It could feel it: each sound exiting a throat, moving forth with a breath to fill its sails, and the sound expanding outward, stopping where it reached the dirt ground and the thickly padded hay, but bouncing where it hit the hard wood of the building wall. Sound: this was sound.
Sound, before now, had been but a theory, a concept: sound, now, was real.
Before now, a voice was a Voice, and such things as words came imparted heavy in the very mind, understanding instantaneous. Communication happened to other beings: angels Knew, for that was their purpose.
Now, it Knew nothing, and knew even less, and it heard the soft whimper that came from between its dry lips, hissing over its dry tongue. The sound was pathetic, lowly, and it tasted its shame, felt it ring within its body.
It lifts its head, feels the pain that suffuses its very form, and it exhales, staring forward.
“My God,” whispered the human before it, and it watched distantly as the human moved its hands, two fingers tracing a line from its forehead down to its chest, and then from shoulder to shoulder. What it meant, the angel could not possibly know, and it stared down at its own hand, which was caked with mud. The skin was red-raw beneath its blanket of muck, and the hand, as he regarded it, shivered.
“Come,” said the voice of the other one, which was lower, and it felt the touch against its cheek, and it cried out, keened. The touch was so warm, and more than that, it was the touch of life, a soul under that warm skin, a soul— “Oh, hey, hey,” the voice said, and it said it in the angel’s ear, for the angel was wrapped tight around its body, sobbing against the speaker’s chest.
“Jules—”
“He’s fine, he’s fine,” Jules said, and the angel desperately curled its wings around them, pressed its face closer to the breast of the one called Jules, but it was not the same: it was used to being in amongst the natural graces of a thousand angels, a hundred thousand, and this was but one human soul, just one. “He barely weighs anything,” he said, and when the angel felt the pang of sympathy, the new emotion all but knocked it down, its knees buckling. “Oh, hey,” Jules said, and his hands alighted firm on the angel’s waist, gripping it to keep it upright, draped as it was about his neck. “Alright, here…”
The angel didn’t let go as the human Jules gently pushed it backward, bringing it down to sit upon the hay again, and it heaved in gasps of air, feeling the instinct although the practice was new, and it looked, for the first time, at his face.
Jules was a human: a man, perhaps approaching thirty years of age. His cheeks were dusky and tanned with hard work in the sun, and his hair was long and messily cut, drawn back from his face, tied at his neck and put back behind his ears. His nose had been broken before, the angel thought: it had seen humans with crooked noses, like this one, but never from down here, beneath the firmament, only from Heaven.
It had never been to Earth before.
It reached up, touching Jules’ cheek with its palm, feeling the heat, feeling the regular flow of his blood in his veins, and it shuddered in an uncertain breath. Jules had deep brown eyes, and it could see in their depths concern, concern and sympathy, and curiosity… The emotions flooded over it like a wave, and it closed its own eyes, gripping tightly at Jules’ shoulder. Their bodies were flush together, and the angel could not stand to pull away, but it heard the noise of the other human, and it looked at her.
She was older, it thought. It saw in her face the same dusky skin, the same shape in the mouth, and it felt the similarity in her blood, and his blood. This was Jules’ mother…
It remembered the first of them, Eve, remembered her heavy with child, and holding the first of them against her breast…
It looked to Jules, and Jules smiled at it. It was a small smile, and it watched his lips curve up to form it.
It hesitated. It felt the face wrapped around it, felt it, and it forced its mouth to move, feeling the strange pull of unfamiliar muscles (muscles! muscles! it had never needed muscles before!), at its cheeks, at its lips…
Jules’ smile deepened, and his gaze came from the angel’s face to its wings, which are… They had feathers, now, and the wings sprouted from between its shoulder blades, expanding outward. It had never had feathers, or shoulders, before, never, it never… The feathers were a golden-brown, and Jules reached up, his fingers brushing against the soft down, and the angel gasped at the strange touch, the strange sensation.
“It could be dangerous,” the mother said. It could feel the anxiety radiating from her, and it leaned closer to the other, feeling his quiet confidence, his warmth. This emotion, this too was new: pleasure.
“I don’t think he is,” Jules said softly, fingers still brushing through the feathers, and the angel’s eyes fluttered closed, its face falling against the human’s breast once more, its nose pressed as tight as it could be against the rough wool of its vestments, its fingers gripping tightly at the fabric. “He’s just frightened, and scared. What happened?”
It didn’t respond, not until Jules’ fingers came away from its wing, and instead touched against its chin, pushing it up to look at him. It stared into Jules’ eyes, into his beseeching expression.
“Can you talk?” he asked quietly, not unkindly.
It had never talked before. It knew only the Word, knew instructions, had put forward messages, but it had never wrapped lips and teeth and a tongue about its speech, and made it audible. But the human Jules had asked it, and were it silent, that would be a lie, would it not? It could talk, it thought: it had a tongue, and lips, and a larynx, and a voice…
“Yes,” it said. The sound was soft and mellifluous, though slightly hoarse, and it made Jules smile again, wider this time. It liked that smile. It liked! Liked! “Fell,” it said. “Was…”
It trailed off.
To Fall was the great punishment: to Fall was to err, and be found judged.
“Did nothing,” it said, overtaken in its own perplexity.
Twin confusion radiated from Jules and the mother alike, and it closed its eyes, the emotion uncomfortable where it touched its consciousness.
“What are you?” Jules asked. His hand, once more, trailed through its feathers, pressing into the down this time, and it clung to him tightly, not daring to let go. His voice was full of wonder: so too was his heart, and the wonderment made it think of blessed creation. It kept its eyes closed, clutching all the harder at this human, at this man, at this soul. It felt such sorrow it could scarcely stand it, and it felt as if it weighed it down.
“Fallen,” it said again, its voice dull even to its own ears. “Fallen.”
"Oh," Jules said, as if he understood, although he could not, he mustn't: his hand curled in the angel's hair (hair? hair!), clutched at it, and drew it closer. He felt the angel's sorrow, it thought, and took such pity on it, such pity. "I'm sorry," he murmured, and the angel didn’t hear as he went on, talking to the woman, the mother, perhaps talking to the angel itself. It heard nothing but the slow beat of the heart beneath its ear, and without really meaning to, the tears a hot and sudden streak on its cheeks, it began to weep.
***
JEAN-PIERRE
“… a roast and a pint of milk,” said the waitress, who was named Rosetta, although she was wearing Sandra’s name badge ever since Sandra had gone to work in the med supply factory to keep guys from looking her up on Facebook, and set the plate and pint glass in front of Colm, who gave her a winning smile. She smiled back, even though she didn’t usually smile at men, didn’t really want to encourage them – she didn’t know why she felt like he was safe, why he was alright, but for some reason, she felt that he was.
Jean-Pierre reached up and rubbed carefully at the edge of his temple, trying to work away the threatening headache building there. Two weeks in a cruise ship’s cabin had left him isolated from people, who all felt their feelings so very loudly, so openly, and all at once, in a half-full restaurant in the early afternoon, it was overwhelming, now.
“Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?” Rosetta asked Jean-Pierre. “We do have other vegan options, if it’s that.”
Jean-Pierre looked at the rosiness in her cheeks, the set of her mouth, her wide eyes. He had evidently been looking at her for too long, because he felt the wave of uncertainty come from her, and then he heard Asmodeus say, as if through a wall of water, “He’s okay. Thank you, Miss.”
Rosetta nodded, walking back toward the till, and Jean-Pierre stared down at the fruit platter spread out in front of him on the table: melon, pineapple, strawberries, blackberries, blueberries, oranges, even a few pieces of starfruit.
“Do you think if I ask, they’ll have dragon fruit?” Jean-Pierre asked.
“We walked past twenty-two restaurants before we saw one with a fruit platter,” Asmodeus said mildly, taking a sip of his tea. “So I doubt it.”
Jean-Pierre picked up a piece of starfruit, putting it in his mouth and chewing, feeling the acid sweetness burst on his tongue, and although they both did their best to hide their relief, he could see some of the tension go out of Asmodeus’ shoulders, and see Colm’s clenched jaw relax.
“Vegan options,” Jean-Pierre said mildly.
“Dublin’s very cosmopolitan these days,” Colm murmured, giving him an easy smile, and Jean-Pierre smiled back before he focused himself on his food. The nausea had passed quickly, once Colm had taken it for himself, and he ate with gusto, albeit a gusto Jean-Pierre tried his best to tune out, as he did the slightly overpowering smell of the gravy.
Asmodeus had just ordered a salad, like he usually did when given the option, and Jean-Pierre watched him pick through for the cherry tomatoes, spearing them with his fork and dousing them in the vinaigrette before he ate them, one after the other, before he’d eat the rest.
Colm, on the other hand, ate from his plate in a clockwise motion, taking a morsel from each section as he went around it: a piece of beef, then some carrots, then broccoli, then potato, then Yorkshire pudding, then back to the beef… One could set a clock by the way Colm ate from his plate.
He felt the emotion swell in his chest, a deep and warm affection for the two men beside him. Colm said, in an idle tone, “We love you too, Jean.”
Jean-Pierre smiled, but his nose wrinkled as Colm picked up his pint glass and began swallowing down mouthful after mouthful of thick, white milk.
“I don’t know how you can do that,” Jean-Pierre muttered.
“We don’t all have your delicate constitution,” said Colm cheerfully.
Asmodeus reached out, plucking a grape from the side of Jean-Pierre’s platter.
“Hey!”
“It’s a sharing platter, Jean-Pierre,” rumbled Asmodeus, but as payment, he offered Jean-Pierre his fork, speared with the last of the cherry tomatoes, and Jean-Pierre laughed as he took it.
***
The angel shivered as Jules gently dragged the cloth over its skin, scrubbing at the flesh before he rinsed the cloth once more. The water was brown with muck by the time his work was complete, and he was swift about dragging the towel over its skin to dry it.
“Good that you didn’t get your feathers dirty,” he said quietly. The mother – Marguerite – had gone back inside, and they were alone inside a small hay barn. It could hear the sound of animals, now that it listened for them, and felt their signatures behind the wooden partition: two cows, each lain down to sleep for the night. “Are you in pain?”
“Do not know,” it said, because it was true.
Jules gave it a long, long look, and then he gently set the towel aside, reaching out and touching its feathers once more, absently, like he could scarcely stop himself. Immediately, it was forward again, in the human’s lap, its face buried in his neck, and it heard him sigh softly.
“Can you put these away?” he asked.
“Don’t understand,” it said.
“These,” Jules said, and his fingers carded through soft plumage on each side, making the angel sigh, its wings fluttering with quiet satisfaction. “Can you hide them?” It thought about this for some time. Hiding. Nothing hid, once upon a time: the animals of the world lived in harmony, and Eve and Adam hid nothing, for they had no shame.
So much had changed, since then, and yet for the angel, then and now were so recently just a matter of perspective, the direction in which one pointed one’s gaze.
Hide them.
It felt its wings, drawing them inward, folding against its back, and then, a little more. It was difficult to describe the sensation, precisely, but it felt them fold in tighter, inward, and then there was nothing, just a blank expanse of rain-bruised skin. Jules’ hands slid over the bare flesh, feeling the blades of its shoulders, the back of its neck, and it clutched all the tighter at him.
“Do you have a name?” he asked.
“No,” it said. “We don’t have names.”
“There are names,” Jules said slowly, cautiously. “Michael, Raphael, Gabriel…”
It was still. How to explain? Could it explain?
“Not…” It stopped. It had never been an individual before, and it felt as if it had been cleaved away from its natural place, strangely empty when it drew away from the human’s breast, and it did not want to draw away. “Not me,” it said. The very word felt like a blasphemy, but what more did blasphemy matter anymore?
It could not Fall a second time.
“You need one,” Jules said.
“Why?”
“Because everyone has a name.”
“Not… me.”
“You need to,” the human said, and he reached up, gently drawing his fingers through the angel’s hair. It leaned into the touch, its eyes fluttering closed once more, and it felt the thumb that gently played against its scalp, the warmth of hard-worked, calloused fingers, a scarred palm.
“Where… is this?” it asked.
“Outside Chartres,” the human said. “France. Did you fall from Heaven?”
It said nothing, but its fingers gripped, without its permission, tighter at the human’s blouse.
“What… year?” it asked. It knew how time worked, it thought. Seconds into minutes, minutes into hours, hours into days, and days… into the rest. It knew them. But—
“1732,” Jules said. Once, it Knew. The dates coincided with events, and there were so many different calendars, so many different philosophies of time, but it used to know what events coincided with what dates, and yet its mind was but a blank expanse, so empty, cut off as it is from the body of knowledge of the Host. It Knew…
But it didn’t, anymore.
“You choose it,” it said.
“I can’t choose it,” Jules said, sounding almost scandalised, and it felt the shift in its face as its brow furrows of its own accord.
“Why not?”
“Because— Because it’s your name.” That stung. The your, in the singular, the dreadful singular, the individual: it was just one, now, instead of legion. How could this be natural, be normal, to be but one body, one mind, one… soul? A soul! What a dreadful thing to be cursed with!
“You name one another all the time,” it said tightly, wishing it could crawl into its own skin and be hidden there. “Heard about it. You give one another names, and assignations, and diminutives, even.”
Jules stared down at it, apparently struck dumb by this retort. “But—”
“You say I need a name, but now you will not choose one. Make your decision one way or the other.” There is a moment’s pause, and then Jules let out a low, rich sound, breathless and quiet. It leaned back slightly to look at his face, at the smile dragging at his lips, at his teeth. It liked that sound: laughter, it was laughter. “You laugh at… me,” it said, feeling its lips twist into a frown.
“You’re stubborn as an ass,” Jules replied.
“Oh.”
“Jean,” he decided. “Or… No, Pierre. Or— I can’t choose. There are too many names, all of them too common!”
“Jean-Pierre,” it said.
“That’s too common.”
“You said needed a name.”
Jules sighed, and again, it felt that trickle of warm indulgence, of fondness, the emotion that played soft over its skin. It ached, it thought: it could feel the shift of bruises beneath the flesh, the blood seeping beneath the tender skin…
“As an ass,” he said again. “Alright, Jean-Pierre: that’s that. How old are you?”
It considered this question. “Debatable,” it said.
“How can it be debatable?”
“Humans debate,” it said.
Jules sighed, still smiling. “Yes, but they don’t debate age: age is a matter of facts, one way or the other. You are the age that you are.”
“Oh.”
“So, how old are you?”
“Unknown.”
Again, the laughter.
“How old do I… appear?” it asked.
“Late twenties,” Jules said, after a moment’s thought.
“Very well,” Jean-Pierre replied. “Then I am late twenties.”
“No,” Jules said. “You need to pick a year, and a date you were born.”
“Why?” it asked defeatedly, astonished by the petulance in its own voice. It had never felt like this before: quietly defiant and… annoyed. It was annoyed, irritated. There was a heaviness at its eyes, and even as it mused on the thought, it felt its mouth open unbidden, feels strange, thick air pass from its throat through its mouth. Immediately, it frowned in perplexity.
“That was a yawn,” Jules said.
“Am tired?”
“Yes, I expect so.”
“Oh.”
“Come,” Jules said, and Jean-Pierre disobeyed. Was this what disobedience felt like? It felt good. Perhaps it did deserve to Fall.
It lingered in the hay as Jules rose to his feet, and Jules frowned down at it, his eyebrows furrowing. It looked up at him, unmoving, its mouth set in a thin, loose line. “Fine,” Jules said, and then he bent, and lifted.
Jean-Pierre let out a noise of surprise as arms came beneath its legs and its back, lifting it with ease from the hay bale and taking it outside, into the stinging cold of the early morning air, still dark, still with moisture thick in it. The black night was beginning to give way to red on the horizon. It did not struggle, however, as Jules brought it under the low stoop and into another building that adjoined the first, a house – a cottage.
“Jules,” said Marguerite. “Wh— Oh.” She stared at Jean-Pierre for a long moment, her mouth fallen open, and it felt confusion, fear, uncertainty, and then a curious calm. It was as if it was all smoothed away in her mind, and it stared at her for a long moment, not entirely comprehending as she crossed her arms over her chest, and nodded toward the wooden slats to the edge of the room, where a dog, wiry and brown and thick with fur, tapped its tail against the sheepskin beneath it.
Jules carried the angel to the bed, putting it down there, and he reached for a blanket, throwing it over its body.
“No—” it protested as the human draws away, feeling the dreadful cold, the dreadful loneliness, of the cleaved-in-two feeling set into place again.
“Lie down,” Jules said, and he patted the wooden board beside the angel’s breast. The dog wriggled forward, curling against its side. It was not the same as Jules, but still, life burst beneath its skin, and Jean-Pierre came closer, wrapping one arm about the animal and pressing its nose against the back of its furry neck. It didn’t smell like Jules did, like sweat and hay and wheat. It smelled different: this was how dogs smelled. “This is Anicroche,” Jules said. “She’ll keep you warm.”
It held the dog, felt her tail wag against its calf beneath the blanket, felt her warmth, and it pressed its head against her fur, feeling its softness against his skin.
“Where are you going?” it asked miserably.
“To work,” Jules replied. “There is labour that needs completing.”
“For how long?”
“Would you know how long how long was, if I told you?”
It paused a moment. The hand touched its hair once more, and it sighed, not opening its eyes. “No,” it muttered.
“Soon,” Jules said, and stood to his feet. It felt him draw further away, heard him talk in hushed tones with Marguerite, felt the separation as the two souls exited the cottage, and went outside. The dog remained.
The dog’s heart beat faster than Jules’ had, and her mind was a flurry of short bursts of emotion: new thing, curious, love, warm, friend, food?, food want, new thing, warm, warm—
It sighed, and it felt the dog’s mind begin to slow as she wriggled close against its chest, seeking its warmth. The angel allowed it, and it felt the dog’s drowsiness, felt her mind drift and slow…
This was sleep.
***
JEAN-PIERRE
Jean-Pierre heard the click of the door as Colm stepped out from the café, and heard his growl of irritation. “Christ, Jean, how old are you?”
“As old as you are,” Jean-Pierre mumbled against Asmodeus’ neck. “To the day.”
“You’re seriously going to carry him the whole way?” Colm demanded.
“It doesn’t bother me,” said Asmodeus, his tone easy, smooth, and mild: Jean-Pierre’s legs were wrapped around his middle and his arms around his neck, and one of Asmodeus’ hand kept a steadying grip under Jean-Pierre’s thigh, keeping him in place as they walked along. “The house is scarce twenty minutes’ walk from here.”
“You spoil him,” snapped Colm.
“I spoil both of you,” was Asmodeus’ reply, and Jean-Pierre heard Colm’s sound of frustration, but did not feel the wave of it, because Asmodeus drowned it out.
Asmodeus was not like humans or other angels, nor like anyone else besides: he was a pit of lacking feeling, a great, black spot on what might be called the radar of Colm and Jean-Pierre’s empathies, and in this blackness, now, Jean-Pierre felt comfort beyond measure, for it drowned out the cacophony of the rest of the world.
Pressed against this nothingness, being as it was a void that Jean-Pierre called brother, and loved beyond measure, he slept.
Chapter Two on Ao3 (free)
Chapter Two on WorldAnvil (free)
Chapter Two on Medium (paid)
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On the Acceptance of Unsteady Ground
Throughout this whole dive into turtle world, I've been very conscious of just how LITTLE access to information I have. I'm relying so heavily on English translations and platforms, and most of these are from turtles, so I'm fully aware I'm getting a biased perspective.
I've tried to read stuff from solos or even just neutral third-parties. The neutral parties don't have much depth of information, though, and I found solos heavy on accusations and declarations but light on actual...evidence. And they sometimes use some really nasty rhetoric against the idea that gg and dd might be gay.
Don't get me wrong, turtles get weird too. There's plenty of clearly false rumors, deceptively edited videos, silly stretches of logic, weird ideas of what how people in a relationship would act, etc. But there's at least enough English-speaking turtles that I can find some who are giving open and, as far as I can tell, accurate information (honestly, I find tumblr turtledom better at that then other platforms). I haven't really found a similar pocket of solo fans.
I'm also aware that there's always going to be a limit on how much I can know. I don't speak the language, so I'm always relying on translators. I have limited access to Weibo (even putting aside the language barrier, I'm in text confirmation limbo in actually getting an account), and I have little familiarity with the culture. I don't get a lot of the jokes or references, and stuff may strike me, an English-speaking American, differently than it would someone in China.
Add on top of that the fact that I'm trying to find out purposely obscured information about two celebrities, and, yeah, I'm fully aware that I'm on unsteady ground here. I can do my best, but I'm never going to know anything for certain.
But I've become okay with that.
It took a while. The dissatisfaction with the unknown (and unknowable) is what drove a lot of my early fixation and subsequent fall into the turtle pit. But now, especially after laying out my thoughts, I've reached a zen place with it. I'm 100% certain ggdd were together during filming/promo, and I'm 95% certain they're still together (I had this at 85% originally, but then the whole dd being sick and gg changing his schedule thing happened and I'm just...welp, guess I'm in this confidence interval, then).
Just having that certainty means I can enjoy updates from them without anguishing about "proof" or uncertainty. Oh, gg took the day off on dd's birthday? That's really sweet! I'm not gonna fuss about if it's coincidence ENOUGH to convince me, because I'm already convinced. It's a good place to be.
I typically don't care about celebrities. In fact, I've long been bewildered by celebrity culture here in the US, and I've often been actively annoyed when people assume/expect me to have opinions on things celebrities do. I'm the nerd who doesn't get why the actors get all the attention when the writer or director would be much more interesting.
So the fact that I've gone all fangirlish over two celebrities is bizarre to me, and I appreciate the irony. Well done, me. I attribute some of it to just being able to watch the bts and see their early interactions play out like a story. I find stories compelling, and both gg and dd are charismatic, attractive and have great chemistry. Whatever disdain I have for celebs, I do love a romance.
In my foray into the ggdd world, though, I've also had to learn more about c-ent, and y'all. It's nuts. Like, US entertainment is nuts too, but c-ent ratchets it up to 11. I've been in fandom a long time, and I thought I'd seen some weird stuff, but it's got nothing on c-ent. Just wrapping my head around the culture these guys are in took a lot of learning.
But I appreciate being able to dive into this culture and this country, because I knew very little about China beyond the antagonistic politics. It's been refreshing to get a view on life on the ground in China to humanize the folks there and get a clearer picture of the country.
I started this thing bc I had been spending so much time on Youtube watching clips, and I had thoughts and opinions and nowhere to put them. I already had a tumblr that I use to lurk on some fandoms and I had started following turtles too. I figured tumblr would be a decent place to splurge out my thoughts, so I set up a throwaway account to do so.
I get the vibe that a lot of new turtles come to bjyx through the same route I took? They watch The Untamed on Netflix. They get curious about the show and start watching some clips on YT. Next thing you know, they have 3 playlists full of purported "proof of love" and they need a whiteboard to connect everything together and their wife thinks they've gone completely bonkers supports them in all their oddities.
Like, I was really confused by turtles at first. I was just trying to watch bts videos on YouTube and I didn't know what bjyx meant, but the videos with the label were weird and had strange disclaimers that they were "only for turtles" and I had no clue what that even meant.
My confusion continued as I tried to read more. The fake story disclaimer convention is hella confusing as an outsider, and my first impression was that turtles were kinda crazy. The videos I saw gave overviews of candies without context, and some of them explicitly said they were proof of Yizhan love while still having that fake story disclaimer. Basically, it was a big confusing environment, and it's why I resisted buying into bjyx so hard for so long. It all seemed delulu.
But in reading more, I guess part of that is the point? Recognizing that gg and dd are in a vulnerable position should their relationship ever come out, having so much noise to muddy the waters makes a twisted, clownish sense. I don't know who came up with that convention or if it just kinda happened (is it a normal thing in c-ent? I don't know enough about celebrity fandoms), but hats off, I guess.
With the supertopic recently hitting 4 million active fans, there's something heartening about such a depth of support for the guys. I'm not naive enough to think all 4 million (plus international fans) are allies to LGBT folk in general, but it surely means something to ggdd to have that sort of support for their relationship. Honestly, it means something to me, as a random gay chick on the other side of the world, to see a gay couple get that kinda of support behind them.
I started watching the bts because I was afraid there'd be a lot of cynical homophobia on the set or some evidence of all the male cast being icked out by the whole thing. Instead, I got gg, who was so passionate about WWX being gay. I love that everybody knew they were telling a love story with as explicitly as they could get away with. I love that the guys wanted more Wangxian scenes and that the cast and crew made "everyday is everyday" jokes in a non-mocking way. I'm glad that the whole shoot seemed like such a positive environment for the cast and crew to being themselves and tell a type of story that they may not be able to be involved with ever again.
So, yes, this is my zen turtle place. When I set up a soapbox for myself, I didn't think too much about the fact that people would respond, but I'm so grateful to have had a chance to talk to some other turtles! Everybody is lovely and thank you for sharing my enthusiasm.
Like I said in the beginning, I don't have the time to keep super-active in the long-term. I had intended to write up my thoughts and poof away. But I do also plan to keep up with gg and dd and turtles, so instead I'm just gonna leave off with the potential for further posts down the line.
I'm not gonna be incredibly active, so please don't expect frequent updates or interactions from me. But if I have more Yizhan thoughts I'll pop up again with a post (I mean, I do have lots more thoughts, but nothing energizing enough to write about), or I'll leave a comment somewhere if I have something I simply must say. I'm also open to responding to asks about the timeline or anything else. And if I ever do stumble across anything groundbreaking with regards to the timeline, I'll probably add that in, because I'm particular about things being complete.
So thanks for being so welcoming! It's been a joy to clown around and make up completely fictional stories with everybody here. 🤡🐢🙇🏼
#yizhan#bjyx#gg and dd keep being ridiculous and it makes me ridiculous#also always gonna read moar fanfic#rooting for them#waiting for that tell-all book
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The First Tears (Part 2)
I looked over at Zart and tried to listen to what he was saying. Honestly. I just wasn't doing a very good job.
"Are you still upset about Gally?"He asked, pulling me back to reality.
"I couldn't care less,"I shrugged, lying straight through my teeth. It was obvious that he knew I was too.
"You know the one bad thing about you two?"He asked after a moment.
"Just one? You're telling me there's only one bad thing you can think of?"I asked, not knowing if he was being serious. Judging by the expression on his face he was.
"You're both stubborn. You're so much alike sometimes that it drives this wedge between you guys. The way you're both always wanting to be right and never willing to be the first to say you were wrong shucks you both over."
"That's not even true,"I scoffed.
"Why?"He questioned, like the answer wasn't obvious.
"Because I didn't do anything wrong,"I defended.
He looked me up and down, clearly telling me I had just heavily contradicted myself. I wasn't though. Honestly.
"I didn't,"I protested.
"Y/N, do you know what's the hard part about love?"He asked.
"What do you know about that?"I asked, knowing he'd never been in a relationship.
"I may not remember life before this, but I remember feelings. So stop being stubborn and hear me out,"He instructed.
"Fine,"I sighed, hoping he'd move on if I just agree. "Love means compromise, and sometimes that means doing things you don't think is fair. If you listen to each other though then you could understand each other's side. That's how you meet in the middle."
I didn't say anything as I dug my shovel into the ground. His words felt a little too real, too true. "And I know you miss him,"He added. I was about to deny it when he passed by us. My eyes felt glued to him for just a second. He looked back at me, and I tried to pretend I didn't hurt as I looked back at the ground. I didn't want to know how he was looking at me, anger, sadness, irritation. No matter what if any negative emotion was directed at me seeing it would kill me inside.
"Just try. He might just surprise you,"Zart pushed. At that moment it occurred to me that maybe he was right. After all, he knew me better than almost everyone. As my best friend that was obvious. Only one person could beat him.
Only Gally could truly read me like the back of his hand. I've trusted him for as long as I can remember, and it feels like I've loved him even longer. Ever since I came up in the box I felt drawn to him.
So yeah. I need to at least try to talk to him.
♡ - - - ♡
I nervously glanced around as my eyes fixated on Gally who was sitting alone under the Watch Tower. Zart lightly shoved my forward. Naturally, I was scared out of my mind.
Still, I walked over to him. He didn't acknowledge my presence for a while as I stood there with my hands at my sides.
"Nothing,"He mumbled after a moment. I just looked at him, confused.
"You asked what you get in return for loving me, and I don't think there really is anything,"He continued. "Oh,"I said, not knowing what else to say. We just stayed with dead silence for a while until I couldn't take it anymore.
Can I sit?"I finally asked. He shrugged, and I did so. "Look. I know neither of us are exactly the best with feelings and all that, but I mean, I can try. I just don't get why you always think I want someone but you. It hurts because I do love you. Not anybody else. You were always the first choice. It just feels like you don't believe me when I say that. It just seems like you don't trust me,"I explained.
"It's not that I don't trust you. It's just that I know people don't exactly think I'm the most deserving of you. I'm worried that one day you'll think the same thing. It would kill me to lose you. I guess I did though."
"Gally. I don't care what anyone has to say. They don't see what I do. They don't understand all the parts of you I love. The kind, the bold, the good listener, the protective, and everything else. I wouldn't trade that for anything. I guess I did though."
"I'm sorry I made you think I didn't trust you."
"I'm sorry for not taking your feelings more seriously. From now on I'll listen to you more. If you wanted to get back together I mean,"I said, adding the last part quickly.
"Yeah. I'd like that more than anything,"He responded, failing to hide his smile. "Hey. Do you still remember what this spot is?"He asked suddenly.
"Better than anything else. It's where we had our first kiss."
"So what if-"
"Just shut up, and kiss me,"I interrupted.
And he did just that. Only it wasn't a kiss. It was a promise that no matter what every road we take always leads back to each other.
#gally x y/n#gally x reader#one shot#fluff#part 2/2#the maze runner#tmr gally#angst with a happy ending
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My Jade Leech Rant!
"Haha, funny Mushroom man!"
No.
The joke was funny the first 53 times but it's getting boring.
I get it, he spends a lot of time studying and growing mushrooms, he's fascinated in it, so it's easy to make it his personality. I get it, I really do.
But Jade is more than just some twisted merman version of Mario.
Possible spoilers for Book 3 and following. Proceed with caution.
For one, I feel like people often miss the part where Jade expresses interest in *all* kinds of plants - He loves the nature because he grew up in the deepest parts of the ocean where they probably barely had plants and even if they did, they definitely hadn't the kinds we have on land. And this one might be more my own guess but the - possible - reason why Jade is so fixated on mushrooms is the simple fact that they're relatively easy to grow (compared to other land-based plants) and let's be fair here: I don't think a merperson has automatically the needed skills for land-based plant-sitting. So, give a Mushroom a bit of light (optional), some moisture and something to feast on and everything's thriving (I'm guessing. Haven't grown a Mushroom myself before but I do know that they feast on pretty much anything, so).
Also, why is no one mentioning Jades passion for tea? It would actually work with the fandoms insane passion of comparing him to Sebastian (which - again - was amusing the first few times but it's getting annoying). He meets Kalim while studying tea and mentions he's quite interested in it (it was his School Uniform Vignette, if my memory serves me right) and in Ruggies School Uniform Vignette we learn that Jade is also always trying to improve his usage of Herbs of all kinds. His literal special item in the Guest Room is a TEA GUIDE.
And there's another thing I don't get in this fandom: Why does he have to be compared so often to Sebastian? Sure, they both have the "polite gentleman" personality but both of them have very different reasons to do so and last time I checked, Jade ain't a who knows how old demon who made a contract with a severely traumatized orphan just to have a quick snack on his soul later on. I watched Black Butler and as far as I'm concerned, Jade has more depth in his personality than "perfectionist cat loving demon butler for little British brat". But then again, thats just my hot take (and I never really liked Sebastian anyways. On another note: Stop comparing Riddle to Ciel as well).
As I said: Jade is trying to be a polite little guy but fails with elegance on hiding his rather sadistic nature behind a wide smile, leaving him with that everlasting aura of pure mischief which is rather charming in my personal opinion but many people find this more intimidating than charming. So a natural layer of Fear surrounds those who have to deal with Jade - Unless they share a similiar sight like him (as we can see in his interaction with Rook: Instead of being intimidating by the Hunters heartfelt Invasion of privacy, they end up giggling together, causing Riddle - the third wheel of this conversation - to feel mildly but certainly uncomfortable to the point where he left the two of them alone.
Jade is shady, no questions asked but I would like to remind you that Jade also grew up in a very different environment: Not only has he been growing up under the sea, he also had - most likely - fight to survive at some point. Not to mention that his family is heavily implied to be shady business and with shady business, there comes a shady mindset. While Floyd doesn't bother hiding this "setting" of mind, Jade pretty much does so. For what reason? There could be many but as far as I'm aware, we haven't been given a confirmed reason.
It could be a tactical strategy: If he can convince people to trust in the "polite" side of him, giving him the opportunity to surprise them with the true depth of his mind - Luring his enemies like a siren with charming manners, only to slaughter them in a dark alleyway. He openly admitted that he enjoys having control over someone's/somethings life and death (although this was more about the living organisms in his terrariums - Book 4 and his Halloween Card make me believe that this also applies outside of the glass.)
There's also something about Jades specific reaction whenever he shows his more.. Passionate side: He often stops himself and pauses for a moment, before saying that he's joking. In my eyes, he notices how uncomfortable the person in front of him is getting, quickly thinking of an excuse and choosing to pretend that he's joking - It would cause trouble in the future for him if he were to intimidate people to the point of them avoiding him at all cost. People who say things that could be very well from the depths of the darknet happen to freak people out - A lot. More often than not, the person with this knowledge only realizes *after* starting to speak that their words are not necessarily "normal" for the average person. And especially Jade, who - assumingly - grew up surrounded by all kinds of dark stuff, it's certainly rather difficult to adjust your personal average to societies average.
I can also see him as a very extroverted child who wanted to make a lot of friends but never had the chance because of several reasons (for one, kids were often scared of him and his brother and possibly due to family affairs he wasn't allowed or it was significantly more difficult/dangerous to make friends with your average neighbourhood joe. Additionally, many kids misunderstood his gentle teasing as insulting the others even though being mean was a part of his "love language"). I'm also almost certain that he always had to make up for Floyd's mistake growing up, leading him to have this habit even now where he cleans up Floyd's messes or tries to keep up with Floyd's moods the best way possible. Which leads me to one specific personality trait of Jade: He never had the chance to be himself. He always had to be something: Father needed him to be careful, brother needed stability, classmates needed to feel save enough to be comfortable around him, Azul needed a capable right hand. The only times where he was truly himself were the times he was alone - In the nature. In peace, in harmony, studying the land he had not seen before, for he was bound to the Sea.
He's just a guy who's trying to please everyone while also trying to hold onto his personality as good as he possibly can.
And now some headcanons for my favorite shady eel!
He definitely has at least one scar in the shape of a bite mark from fighting with Floyd as kids (including possibly several other scars because these two just can't not fight - Surprisingly, Jade would win most of the fights).
Everytime he gets overwhelmed by something or if he's too stressed, he just leaves for a few hours to go hiking and to just touch some grass to calm down again. He then proceed to cause some petty mischief to call it even (only ¼ of the time people actually knew it was him causing said chaos).
I can't explain this one but I feel like he would have a lactose intolerance.
Out of all three, Jade was the first one who nailed the walking - He struggles with other typical land-sport activities. (One of his worst enemies is couple dancing. It's the only social gathering he tries to avoid like the plague.)
Have I gotten all my thoughts on my dear eel? I hope so. If not, I shall add it later
Ps: I know it's manners but you don't have to thank me every time I answer your ask, dear. I'm enjoying the attention, so it's mutual benefit /lh
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There's an increasingly common plot device or framework that I'm seeing applied where a basic antisemitic narrative is retold with the evil Jew figures replaced with Nazis in an effort to make it no longer antisemitic while still telling the same basic narrative. For a concrete label, let's call it... Protocols of the Elders of Nazism. The Illuminati exists; there is a secret society threatening children with bloodletting, but it’s the Nazis this time, so it's no longer antisemitic (?). With enough care, this can be executed well, but it may be substantially flawed and wind up supporting real world antisemitism with what reads as a dog whistle or first layer of Nazi propaganda to make new recruits accept basic premises of Nazi ideology before hitting them with the hard stuff. This latter condition may be due to bad writing or literal Nazi propaganda and the lack of clarity is part of the problem.
There are a few instances where this is done reasonably well (YMMV), to make an antifascist point from a place of respect toward Jews and Jewish culture. Roald Dahl was very antisemitic, and his The Witches book reproduces the blood libel narrative, as does the 1990 film adaptation, but the 2020 film attempts to spin this around to code the witches as Nazis with a smattering of German (I believe I read somewhere that Anne Hathaway deliberately played her witch character as a Nazi). Guillermo del Toro's The Strain draws heavily from Dracula and Nosferatu, both frequently labeled as antisemitic, and spins the narrative to have the vampire bad guys intertwined with the Nazis while heroic Jews oppose them. Hunters does similarly, with a Nakam-like rogue group of heroic Jews (eh... *handwavy gesture*) opposing a secret conspiracy of Nazis.
And then there is worse execution, with the framework often appearing as leftist populism while also ferreting in ideas in common with rightist populism/actual Nazism. The Boys comics drip with allusions to antisemitic conspiracy theories as part of its populist message but technically has a Nazi bad guy and villainous American fascism, which makes me consider the comics to read like an antifascist work made by an ex-Nazi the day after he decided he was antifa. The Boys TV show (which has a significant Jewish presence in the production) is better but still suffers this problem with its depiction of an evil pharmaceutical company exhibiting traits in common with antisemitic conspiracy theories, just now with a Nazi origin associated with a revamped version of the comics' Nazi bad guy as well as the American fascism element. Associated terf ideas bring Abigail Shrier's antisemitic conspiracy theory to mind, as well.
Hogwarts Legacy dresses its goblin antagonists up like Nazis, has a line of combat dialog be "I was only following orders!", and depicts them as racist against humans... while also an allusion to anti-SJW Nazi propaganda characterizing feminist game critics as a Jewish conspiracy. The goblins drip with antisemitic imagery but are supposed to be Nazis. With one of the main developers' active advocacy for Gamergate and fixation on Anita Sarkeesian, who I believe was demonized through the main goblin antagonist in allusion to neo-Nazi antisemitic memes ("Anita Jewkeesian"), I think it's reasonable to characterize the game as Nazi propaganda. It's worth note that journalist Robert Evans suggests in The War on Everyone, his audiobook chronicling the development of American neo-Nazism, that Gamergate could have been created by Internet-savy neo-Nazis to spread propaganda.
Most recently, Wonka--also an adaptation of a Roald Dahl work--depicts an evil money-grubbing cartel with characters alluding to Hitler in name and appearance... and seemingly alludes to terf Abigail Shrier's antisemitic conspiracy theory with this evil cartel drugging a woman's daughter to give her a mustache. A chocolate that makes you get clever ideas, made of the essences of lightning and sunshine, is also concerning. ("The lightning and the sun" is a phrase from Nazi occultism representing Hitler as a heroic god figure opposing spiritual chaos, and you can find references to it as dog whistles in various places. Joe Rogan seems to have been indoctrinated in this ideology and similarly dropped references to it. It's possible someone involved in the production of Wonka stuck in lightning and sun references to dog whistle?)
This trope should not be seen as an instant fix for narratives grounded in antisemitism and may indeed carry ideas serving to induct people into coming to accept antisemitic conspiracy theories and associated problems. My takeaway is that depictions of Nazis should be handled with great care. It's not simply acceptable to stick them into any old evil archetype and call it a day. When resurrecting antisemitic narratives, care must be taken to insure the antisemitism itself doesn't propagate, whether or not Nazis are in it as bad guys.
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Could you give us some thoughts on how GL would have played out if rather than Aemond being king and Luke as consort, Luke was king and Aemond was the consort? I’m just really curious about your views on a situation where Luke has all the political power (since it’s heavily in Aemond’s favor in both gl and md). The very nature of the asoiaf world means that those who give birth are politically and socially weaker so it makes sense in your stories for Luke to be in the more submissive role because you’re writing mpreg. I know you enjoy a softer Luke with sad undertones, but do you think we will ever see a book!Lucerys in future writings (still with mpreg)?
it’s funny you ask this because i am working on another story with mpreg (i know huge shocker, everyone is surprised) where luke is in a significantly more powerful position than aemond.
in gilded lilies, i actually think luke would be dangerous if he held too much power over decisions because he is much angrier in general. aemond comments that he’s basically keeping luke in a leash by giving him a family to fixate on cuz in flesh without blood, luke is drawn to dark magic and cruelty. he’s a very angry little guy and if he held all the power, i honestly think he’d a little trigger happy and want revenge for his family. i’d also think luke’s reign would be a little more challenging cuz people doubt his parentage/legitimacy so luke would have to be more cutthroat to survive. even though luke honestly has a greater claim to the throne, putting aemond on it and letting luke basically be the person in his ear was the more peaceful option cuz westeros is a nightmare lol
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My silly interpretation of Orin Scrivello
He’s a Folk Punk Greaser but without the progressiveness! ☠️
As a folk punk fan and a neurodivergent person with a fascination for Orin, I felt it was only logical I’d put them together.
Orin mainly likes the patches and pins aspect of folk punk fashion. He spent a lot of time decorating and procuring the look of his leather jacket. He feels it makes him look more intimidating. He found the decorations at thrift or antique stores, which is also where he found his gas mask and dental tools!
When it comes to his personality, he is lacking. Orin is still the same shitty, sadistic guy that prospers off of capitalism and the power it provided, so he plays no part in the anti-capitalist message of the punk community. He’s also a closeted bisexual with internalized homophobia because of the time period. He got into sadism as a kid too and has had a life-long fixation on pain since then. His interest both comes from sexual gratification and intrigue in the niddy griddy of the human body (he loved medical school / dental school). He commits malpractice on a near daily basis, but he IS very passionate about his job and uses it to better his life (sometimes at the detriment of others). Did I mention he’s abusive still? Abusive AND misogynistic! Between his mean streaks, he is charming, sometimes even sweet. Although these are glimpses into something that could be nice, it is often used to manipulate people and keep them in his life. The only harmless thing he does is mess with easy to pick on people. He rarely pays Seymour any attention, but when he does, he takes pleasure in keeping him on edge by hazing him one minute and giving him a hearty side hug another. As much as I hate “I can fix him” cliches, I am an optimist and believe people can fix or at the very least improve their lives. I want my interpretation of Orin to have an open-ended story, allowing me to use him in various plots for my LSOH misc story ideas. Most focus on Orin improving his life in some way / righting his wrongs because those stories make me feel good.
I might work on my hc for Seymour and other characters. Orin and Seymour just have the most hc because I relate to them heavily and project hardcore on them.
#meeks rambles#meek’s art#LSOH#little shop of horrors#orin scrivello#meek’s headcanons#folk punk was popular in the 1980’s so it checks out#gee! I sure wish Orin would get therapy#WHY DO I ALWAYS GIVE CHARACTERS FIXATIONS??#folk punk#yo btw I don’t support or wanna glorify all the horrible shit Orin does#thought I’d mention
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are you still writing that delicious fic about biker steve and the new girl at the bar?
oh yesss baby, I'm so glad you asked.
I might not finish it until I'm done with I'm on Fire, but here is a little something to tide you over. I'm not sure what I'm calling the fic yet, but it will be nice and long and juicy. This blurb won't be in the fic exactly like this, but I felt I needed to add some backstory. wc: 950
biker!steve x fem!reader
18+ONLY for mature themes, thoughts of smut, and mutual yearning
from the I'm on Fire au
Steve had been getting his hair cut by Rudy, the barber in Old Town, for over a decade, and he looked forward to his time in the chair, especially now that it was fall and things were finally settling down from the insanity of that particular summer.
It’d been 2 months, 5 days and 11 hours since he first laid eyes on you at The Velvet Hammer---the bar where you both worked. He remembered checking the clock and thinking: this moment is important. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know when, but he would have you. He’d know your taste; he’d decipher every whine and whimper until no words were necessary. He wanted to share the kind of passion with you that blossomed into blind, stark raving mad obsession. He wanted to do and say things he’d regret, to embark on a mutual fixation that was borderline embarrassing.
But you wanted nothing to do with him.
You’d made it clear that “friendly co-workers” was all it would ever be. You’d heard the rumors about his reputation as the local lothario and were familiar with the motorcycle club he belonged to that further accelerated his bad boy appeal. Sure, you caught yourself thinking about him when you weren’t at work, secretly hoping that your schedules would sync up over the weekend so that you could indulge in that feisty banter the two of you excelled at. All flirting aside, one thing was for certain: getting intimately involved with a guy like Steve Harrington would not be good for your heart.
A very nice guy named Sean asked you out on a coffee date a few days ago, and you had accepted. He had a stable job, he liked animals, and he didn’t look anything like the heavily tattooed biker with the thick mop of slicked back hair that you couldn’t stop fucking thinking about.
The meetup went fine, the conversation dry but respectful, and you might’ve dozed off once while he was in a particularly long monologue about a trip he took with his ex before they broke up. The guy was a snoozefest, honestly, and the corners of your mouth jerked in a quick smile when you thought about the faces Steve would make if he were there.
Steve stepped out onto the sidewalk from the barbers in his scuffed boots and cupped his hand in front of his face to light a smoke, scowling down at the lighter that he had to flick more than once. He’d asked Rudy to go a little shorter on the sides this time, and there were two lines shaved in above his right ear. He ran his thick fingers through his freshly styled locks, tee shirt sleeve straining tight around his muscles, and took a long drag, hollowing out his cheeks.
He looked up to put his wayfarer sunglasses on, and there you were--- coming out of the coffee shop with some…dude.
The sight made him pause his sunglasses in mid air before slowly sliding them on the rest of the way. He stepped off the curb to straddle his 1993 Harley-Davidson Wide Glide, never taking his eyes off of you.
Sean had you locked in conversation again. Not so much conversation, but his very one-sided opinion on something that left no room for your input, and you didn’t look over until you heard the bike rumble to life.
You couldn’t help it, you smiled so wide when you saw him that your teeth showed, and your eyes lit up in a way that Sean could never earn from you. You tried to stifle your reaction by lowering your gaze to the sidewalk, letting the sound of the chrome beast drown out the voice of your monotone coffee date.
Sean stepped closer, took his hand out of the pocket of his khakis to touch your arm, and the movement was met with a few snarling revs of the bike.
Steve was glaring at you now from behind his dark lenses, cigarette hanging loose between full lips, the knuckles of his tattooed fingers almost white from his tight grip on the handlebars.
He’d heard you mention to one of the other servers that you had a date, but he didn’t know he’d have to actually see it. The jealousy that flared in him was unreasonable, considering he had no claim on you, but goddamn—in his mind, you were his. He’d been loyal to the thought of you in a way he couldn’t understand, and a month-long celibacy streak for him was something he hadn’t suffered since he was a teen.
You moved away from the guy, letting him know with your body language that you weren’t interested.
“Can I see you again?” Sean asked, eliciting a few more aggressive revs of the bike.
This time, it made Sean glance over with a frown, and Steve stared right back, taking the opportunity to rev the bike one more time before tossing his smoke to the pavement and grinding it with the toe of his boot.
“Do you know him?” Sean asked, turning to you.
Your gaze flicked between them, and then landed on Steve, and he gave you a two-finger wave, his expression a mask of intense disinterest. “Yeah, we, um, we work together.”
You told Sean you’d call him, but you never would, and when he offered to walk you around the block to your car, you declined.
You made a point not to look behind you as you heard Steve’s engine grumbling along in your shadow, keeping pace. Once you got to your driver’s side door and popped the lock, you looked up, expecting Steve to stop and say something, but he cruised on, pausing at the stop sign without even a nod or acknowledgement of your presence, and then sped off into the distance.
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The Runaway Theory - A Mahiru 2nd Trial Analysis
I want to begin with addressing the idea of Mahiru being an abuser and my issues with this perception of her. I know the stalker and mannequin theories are very popular but my issue with this characterization of her is the fact that Mahiru is a very weak person. In both voice dramas Mahiru constantly belittles herself, painting herself as a someone who isn't smart. When Kotoko hurts her to the point of being in a critical condition- she herself doesn't feel hurt and justifies what Kotoko has done to her. Even was Es was the one who voted her guilty- she seems to harbor no resentment towards him, and tells him to do his best in her voice drama.
This all very important to consider because it shows Mahiru is willing to get hurt to paint others in a positive light. So with that- what makes us think that she isn't doing the same for her boyfriend. Both songs focus so heavily on Mahiru's warm feelings for this man, but little do either songs actually characterize him. We don't know his motives, and it's only in the second song that we even know what he looks like.
Which brings me to my main thesis: Mahiru fixates so much on her feelings of love as to not focus on the fact she is settling for a shitty guy and shitty relationship.
With that I want to address what is happening in the second song. That is, what exactly is Mahiru and her boyfriend doing in the forest. I understand the "symbolism" of Mahiru leading her boyfriend to a suicide forest, but that doesn't really make sense. Mahiru doesn't want him dead, and even actively state that she wishes she could bring him back to life if he could.
So- why are they there?
This brings me to the runaway theory. As established already, Mahiru does have money. She is a college student and its said that she is living off money that her parents send her. Not to mention the fact she is seen wearing very nice clothes and able to go to a stylist.
Which brings us to the question- why is Mahiru in a state where she is looking for things like shelter and food ("Clothes Food Shelter - Love and Miss you"). In fact this phrase is repeated through her 2nd trial, emphasizing that these are things she is constantly on the lookout for. We know the forest was where Mahiru's boyfriend was killed, implying that both Mahiru and him must have consensually went together. But like we established, Mahiru isn't in poverty, nor has she commited any grave crimes that would make her have to go on the run. If she were a stalker, and that's why she needed to go on the run, then why would her boyfriend be with her since he would have had to report her to the police?
Well this brings us to an interesting conclusion. The last known entry in Mahiru's diary indicates that she was staying at her boyfriend's place. This is also where she is wearing the same outfit as in the second MV. We can assume this happened prior to her boyfriend's death in the suicide forest because she was waiting for him to come home. The following shot in the MV though implies that- he didn't come home, as Mahiru is instead sleeping on the couch, seeming from waiting for him all night. This is where we then get this shocked expression:
We know this expression couldn't be because of her boyfriend's suicide, because we know this occurred in the forest. The attached image showing Mahiru's information along with where her murder took place, depicting a forest. So if not for her boyfriend's death, what could possibly make Mahiru look like this?
-I don't really know. That's the issue with the Milgram MV's and a similar issue I noticed with Mu's MV's where they showcase the beginning and end of the prisoner's crimes, but not so much what happened in between. My guess though, is that the reason they had to become runaways had to do with Mahiru's boyfriend. Like I said, we don't know much about this guy and I think that's intentional. Mahiru is desperate to make this guy look like a victim and like a good person even if it means endangering herself. I think more than likely, that shocked look on Mahiru's face came due to the boyfriend having to come home, likely planning to go on the run after he did something, and ending up having to confess this to Mahiru. As a result of her unconditional love, Mahiru then decides to go with him.
I think one thing that's interesting in the MV that reveals about this guy's character is that while he's willing to give Mahiru cake, it's a lot less than what Mahiru is willing to give.
Mahiru is already shown to be someone who makes the most out of bad situations as shown by her more delusional perceptions throughout the video. If I had to make a guess as to why her boyfriend commited suicide, it's because he was stuck in a situation that he couldn't get out of (he was already shown with a blood stain on his chest in the MV) and one that he couldn't idealize. Mahiru on the other hand, was able to live through the awful conditions. In her first trial she fixates on the days before their relationship switched to the point where they had to become runaways.
In this case, what I think Mahiru feels guilt about is the fact that she couldn't stop her boyfriend's death. What that carousel symbolizes in that sense is their relationship. Sure, it's working and it's constantly moving, but it's stuck and place, gradually breaking down more and more, until her boyfriend is literally shown hanging from it. The carousel for Mahiru is something she uses to keep herself going, to her boyfriend it was another thing to drain him.
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