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peachesofteal · 11 months

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Mermaids

Simon Riley masterlist

Simon Riley/mermaid!reader 8.2k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Dark themes. Magical beings eating human hearts. Magic. Blood, Violence. Explicit sex. Blood kink. Breeding kink. Creampie. Dubious consent. Possessive Simon Riley. "And with your mermaid hair and your teeth so sharp, you crawled from the sea to break that sailor's heart" - F+TM

It begins early this year.

Earlier than usual, when your hunting ground in the mortal world was just starting to turn green, shaking its frosted and frozen branches free to make room for bright blooms and emerald leaves. Just as the steps of Brighton Pier changed from ice slick ledges to waterlogged, weeping wooden planks, and human clothing shifted from long coverings that protected their fragile membranes from the bitter wind to soft and flowing fabrics that allowed their bodies to breathe.

This time of the year the mortal world was alive. Full of rebirth and growth, strong and vibrant.

Vibrant, like the song that began early this year, the frequency echoing deep below the water’s surface to where you waited for its pull. The siren song of a true treasure, far beyond any other, the melody of your chosen, the ebb and flow of the rhythm that is not unlike the sea. The siren song of a mortal’s heart, the cacophony able to reach you and your sisters far below the swell and crash of the ocean, far beyond where the light ceases, the melody possessing the ability to pull you to the surface once a year.

Once a year, to hunt.

One a year, to dance and drink and fall in love, if only for a night.

Once a year, to sacrifice a human heart.

Your eldest sister holds you tight to her body in an embrace as the sun rises. Elegant fingers fuss with your hair, smoothing and tugging and pulling, a vain attempt at taming something wilder than her own heart. Her face is grim, a black void that reflects no joy or excitement, just dread. It is a mirror of yourself. It is a pain that you know too well.

“What bothers you?”

You are the last two left on the beach. The others have all gone, eager to stretch their legs and seek their own songs, the trill of the blood bubbling up in their veins, their bodies pulled like magnets to the source. One heart, one song, one human male for each sister, poor mortals who have no idea what awaits them today, their ignorance bliss on the last night of their lives. Your sisters, as well as you, all live for this night. The joy of the love, the thrill of the hunt, the taste of the ichor that sustains you. The anticipation of this night fills your dreams with swirls of violent songbird chords and sweet melodies of affection. It is all you talk about for cycles, leading up to the day when you leave the water at sunrise and your tail shifts and shatters to reveal two very human looking legs.

“I am weary.” She tells you plainly, an announcement that does not come as a surprise. You have watched how she fades. Watched her linger in the darkness of the caves, watched her float lifelessly on slow currents, gaze hollow, vigor lost. “My song is faint.” She pushes further, holding your hand tightly as she releases you from her embrace. “I think I may not take a heart this year.” But we must. Must we? It was a question unanswered, but one that plagued you both. How else could you live, if not for these sacrifices?

“You would choose to die.” You surmise and she gives you a curt nod, as if it is obvious. As if her admission does not rattle you down to your very bones. Perhaps you too, one day, would make this choice. Would choose not to hunt. Choose not to love and lose. The notion pains you, fills you with sorrow as it has for many, many years. This was not an unknown feeling, even though you still experienced the joy, the bliss of your hunting, of the harvesting, you still felt the pang of loss every time, stronger and stronger as the years ticked by.

“It aches now, knowing I will fall in love this night, just for it to end as the sun rises.” The sea crashes onto the beach behind the two of you, and her lips part with a smile before she leans in to graze a kiss along your cheek. “Happy hunting, my sister.”

The song encourages you onward, leading you through a maze of streets and buildings while the sun rises and lingers in the sky. You comb the city for your male, following the electric hum of the song through alleys and neighborhoods, stopping to enjoy the day, your one day on land, as often as you can. You relish in the things that are rare for you, the taste of coffee and human food, the smell of flowers in the park, the feel of grass on the bare pads of your feet. The dress you’ve chosen flutters in the breeze, allowing the cool air to caress your skin softly, and the sun beams down on your exposed limbs, warming you under its light as you indulge in mortal world. It is nice, you decide while you bask in its rays, to feel the sun as humans do. Such spoiled creatures, being so close to something that gives so much life.

That same sun begins to sink lower behind the skyline and you’re still mindlessly gazing at small insects and diving birds when your heart trills, the force of the song slamming between your ribs, a smattering of warning bells going off within you. He’s close, your blood croons, so, so close. The incessant rattle, the insistent pull is enough to bring you to your feet and anxiously smooth the wrinkles of your clothing, eyes darting wildly around while you hunt for the source, feet flying beneath you. So close, so close.

You come to a stop in front of a pub where a black door is propped open, music and revelry echoing from inside. Here. He’s here. The supersonic vibrato that hums in your own blood draws you into the dimly lit bar, and you hear the song in his veins grow even stronger when you step through across the threshold. He is not hard to find, this close, and your magic strings out before you, weaving and seeking past the bodies that dance closely on the floor, each as desperate for one another as you have grown for your mortal and his song.

He stands in the back, half covered by shadow, the dark pitch of the room matching his clothes and the mask he wears over most of his face. Everything about him is bigger than the males that have called to you in the past, his height, his arms, the width of his shoulders, even the feeling of him in this place. Everywhere you venture, every spot you position yourself in, you feel his eyes on you. He is unusual, and watches, from his vantage point, his companions, other humans, the bartender.

You perch atop a barstool on the opposite side of the room to study him. His eyes carry a ferocity, a heaviness of emotion that stirs the blood running through your own veins until it is pounding in your ears. The severity of him nearly intimidates you, the level of his awareness, the pools of his amber rich brown eyes occasionally flicking over to where your fingers wrap around a glass of beer, the heat of his gaze searing away at your skin underneath the dress. The mask confuses but does not caution you, and your own heart now beats in time with his due to your proximity. Handsome. You muse to yourself, caught up in tracing the outline of his cheekbones. Beautiful, in a dark way.

There is something about him. Something ruinous, something different. Something you cannot name.

It is of no consequence. You are the huntress. You will have your prize, your immortality, the taste of his heart on your tongue. His death becomes your life. His love, his heart, becomes yours, for eternity.

But how nice, might it be, to keep this one? It is an impossible thought, a dreamless idea, but one that still crosses your mind. The fantasy of falling in love for eternity, of having more than one night, more than the blood and violence that follows, more than the loss that would sustain you. If it were to be one, you know you’d choose this one. Your thoughts stray to your sister for a moment, imagining her alone beneath the surface, mourning the centuries of life she has lived, the centuries of love she has lost. Did she know this feeling? This hopelessness, this despair. Your lips tug downward as you consider her words. It aches. It aches, knowing I will fall in love this night, only for it to end as the sun rises. Gloom washes through you, your own yearning itching inside your soul, your desperation for your human itching at your skin. It aches. It aches, it ach-

“Hello.” Someone says from behind you, a deep, distinct voice, and you snap upwards, straightening your posture to turn into the body that crowds you. You jerk backwards on the stool when you realize how close he is, the action unsettling you from your seat, and you slip forward, nearly falling free from your wooden perch. Balance on land is difficult, and yours is perpetually off, a skill you've never mastered. A massive hand wraps around your elbow to right you, gently steadying you, and your jaw goes slack when you finally look up.

It's him.

“Hi.” You smile, trying to recover from your less than graceful impression. Your heart thunders in your chest, and the melody inside him screams for you.

“I’m Ghost.” He motions to your mostly empty beer and raises his completely barren one in return. “Buy you another?”

The indulgent smile that scrawls across your face is practically involuntary as you give your answer.

“Sure.”

His name isn’t Ghost, but he keeps his true name close and won’t give it to you. You give him a nickname, one you usually use on land, and he doesn’t bat an eye, even when you tell him it’s a pet name and not your real one with a wink. The name Ghost doesn’t strike you as odd, after learning what he does, why he keeps it tucked away, and you marvel at him while he tells gives you bits and piece of himself, occasionally peeling his mask up to drink. He’s a solider, a Lieutenant in a special task force, some of which he happens to be out with tonight. He likes bourbon, specifically from a certain region in America, and he smells like the forest. You lean closer, completely unable to stop yourself, inhaling as deeply as you can, breathing in the mossy, earthy, green scent that hovers in the air around him. It was heady, and endless, and wrapped you in a dizzying cocoon of memories that you couldn’t place, but clearly envisioned. Forests, teeming with life and glowing chartreuse from top to bottom, oceans with aquamarine waters, shallow pools for you to bathe in under the sun, the water crisp and cold, your skin eagerly soaking it up its potent brine. Sapphire skies, the beaches stretching on and on, their seas fathomless, their bounties endless. You push closer, nosing as near as you can to his skin and take a lungful of the air. Strange. You knew humans wore things to mask or change their scents, but had never encountered one so… affecting.

“Alright, love?” He brushes the lightest contact of his fingers against yours, and you straighten, eyes ducking down in embarrassment.

“Yes, sorry. I- I was… distracted.”

Unusual indeed.

One drink turns to many, and you carefully note how Ghost’s posture becomes more relaxed, shoulders less tense as the two of you indulge. He continues to surveil the room, observing and cataloguing, and you find it dangerously appealing, how in tune he is to his surroundings. How vigilant. Your hand lays gently on his thigh when you can no longer hold off the desire for physical touch, and he inclines his head to speak above your ear, the warmth of his cheek behind the fabric pressed casually to your head.

“D’ya want to go somewhere else?” Yes. You nod, and he motions to his group before excusing himself, his large body cutting a path through the packed room like he’s parting the sea.

You note the couplings around the bar as Ghost approaches his companions, leaning down to speak to one who is seated, legs spread wide on a faux velvet chair. He has a mohawk, and cerulean blue eyes that trace you from head to toe after Ghost begins to walk back towards where you're seated. You break the eye contact hastily, observing the others, pity pulling on your heart strings over a distraught female who sits in a corner, watching another with longing. The state of her broken heart is written all over face, her body rife with grief. The object of her affection, another stunningly beautiful female, dances with a different mortal, her artfully woven hair spiraling from her shoulders in tune to the way she moves her body. They have it so hard, you think. The song does all the work for us. You never have to woo your mortals, just provide them with the opportunity to find you. The song pushes them to seek you out, drives them to near madness unless they are in your company. They don’t always love you back, as you love them, certainly. But you never have to vie for their attention, never have to posture for their affection.

A large hand takes yours, warm and beating with the pulse of his heart, the rhythm of the song.

“Ready?” You open your mouth to say yes but nothing comes out, and the feeling of dread, the ache swamps you for a passing second. I think I may not take a heart this year. All you can do is nod.

As he leads you through the crowd, you cannot help but reach forward with your free hand and clasp onto the dancing woman. She pauses, eyes lighting wantonly when she sees you, but you push a sprinkle of magic through her, sparking desire in the base of her consciousness for the mournful dove in the chair.

You don’t look back at either of them as you leave, and silently pray to no one that they find happiness in love, that they relish it and keep one another, if only for you.

You bring him to the beach, as is your custom. It was where you felt safest, closest to the ocean, it’s where your power felt most pure should you need it, should something go wrong. You shiver at the thought, shoving down the memories that threaten your balance, and you clutch Ghost’s hand.

“Come down here often?” He inquires and you shrug, a response you know mortals are fond of.

“I like it here.” You offer, and he hums in acknowledgement. You tug him towards the overhang of the pier, where the shadows will shield you, where no one dares to venture. The only light comes from the moon, it’s silver glow glittering dimly through worn wooden pier slats, and you watch it catch his eye, his pupil expanding and contracting as you step closer and closer. “I want to kiss you.” you implore. “Will you remove your mask?” The song. You’re depending on the song to help you with this, depending on his desire, the power of the melody in his veins to urge him to comply with your request, and when he tilts his head like he’s considering you, you hold your breath.

It happens quickly. He removes the mask in a fluid motion, and then his lips are upon yours, hot and seeking, tongue exploring your mouth while yours opens for him, your body clenching with dizzying desire at the feel of his touch against your skin.

“I knew it.” You gasp when you pull away and trace the fine point of a fingernail down his jaw. “I knew you were breathtaking under there.” He chuckles.

“Happy you think so.”

Your mouths melt together as he holds you around the waist, your bodies getting closer and closer until you can feel the hardness of his cock in his jeans, feel the scorching heat of him through his clothes. You are desperate for this mortal, your desire to feel him moving inside of you nearly as strong as the lust you feel to taste his heart. You sink to the sand together, a dance of limbs and movements that have you panting astride him when he settles, propped up on his elbows.

“Simon.” He says mid breath. “That’s my name. Want ya to have it.” Simon.

“Simon.” You whisper it, and he nods before pulling you back to him, two large palms cradling your face like you’re a delicate creature. It makes you feel special, makes you feel cherished, like you’re something gentle to be treasured, and not a monster out for his life. You kiss him tenderly, one more time, as softly as you can manage, your heart trembling inside your chest, before your teeth bite into his lip, the ferocious intensity of the act returned by him, his mouth meeting yours full force. You bite again, and this time his flesh gives way, bright, mineral rich blood bubbling from the tiny cut and you eagerly lap at it, the ichor coating your tongue and exploding across your senses. He laughs, the echo of it rumbling deep in his chest, and you place your hand against his heart greedily, the vigor of its beating nearly making your eyes roll back into your head. The length of his cock throbs between your legs, where only the fabric of his jeans separates you, and you rut against him helplessly. Sparks ignite between you, your body shuddering when his hands hook into your hip, strong grip guiding your movements against him. Your magic swells inside of you, and your head spins.

Take him, take him. Take his heart, take his song. Have him, his love, his heart, for eternity, forever.

You push him onto his back, dress rucked up around your hips, fabric pooling around the two of you.

“I want you.” you tell him, fingers fussing with his clothes, encouraging him to strip his shirt free and then unbutton his jeans. It’s messy, uncoordinated, and sloppy but you can’t find a care. You’re too filled with want, overflowing with desire for your mortal, your desperation mounting as he stills you, tracing a finger over your ribs and then down your pubic bone to where your slick, silken folds wait to be touched.

“Simon.” you whisper his name again, the word close to begging, and he shushes you, swirling a finger down where you’re leaking, circling the swollen bud of your clit with agonizing strokes that fill your senses with electricity.

“Shhh. I know what you need.” He soothes, and deftly pushes a finger inside of you, stroking along your walls. You shiver, face dropping into the crook his neck, and he turns his head so that the soft puff of his breath wafts over your skin as you whimper. “Does that feel good?” He asks, pressing another inside, his thumb flicking over your clit in lackadaisical patterns. You moan, body welcoming his touch, and you nip at the skin of his shoulder, eager to tear it apart, to taste his blood again. His other hand pushes at the back of your head, until your teeth are flush with his skin. “Go on.” He urges, and your eyes slip closed with bliss while you break the thin membrane, blood pooling to the surface as he lets out a small grunt. Your tongue swirls in it, painting his skin ruby, and you drag your lips downward, over where his heart pounds wildly in his chest. For you. It pounds for you. It sings for you.

“I need you inside me.” He pulls at the straps of the dress, divesting you of the top, exposing your breasts to the cool air and silver light of the moon. His thumb rolls one of your nipples and you feel for him, already free from his under garment, the things humans wear under their outside clothes, and you swallow when you feel the size in your fingers.

You sink down onto him with a hiss, body stretching for the intrusion, cunt spasming around the width and length as it fights to make room. He pets your hip soothingly, and you sit straight up, letting out a cry when you feel the true length of his cock inside you, the absolute fullness of it nearly seated in your belly. When you look back down, your eyes trace the smear of blood from his lips and shoulder, and your tongue darts out against your own skin, seeking the flavor of ichor that waits on the corner of your mouth.

Something glitters in his eyes, something shifting as if he finally recognizes the danger he’s in. Even here, with you astride him, split open his cock, hips stuttering in slow circles, wariness flexes across his face as if he knows, finally, that he is the prey and you the predator.

“It’s okay, do not be afraid.” You reassure him, stroking a fingernail over his breastbone, to where his heart flutters beneath your touch. He blinks, eyes blissfully blank, the firm grip of his hand on your hip relaxing before he says:

“Will you not tell me your name?” A long sigh slips between your teeth. Mortals. So hung up on familiarity. But how could you refuse a dying man his last request? Your lips kiss the shell of his ear as you give it to him, the point of your fingernail pressing into his delicate flesh, desperate to seek the strong muscle beneath, the song in his blood echoing through your own bones with supersonic vibration. The sounds and colors of the mortal realm all increase, too bright, too loud, everything shaking like the earth is suddenly trembling and then-

Something snaps inside of you. Magic, raw and powerful, a force unlike anything you’ve ever felt spills into you, your body being washed over with the rush of floodwaters, your heart and blood now singing for him, yearning for him, desperate to be consumed by him.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

The claim burns beneath your skin, your magic twisting away into something completely new, something more powerful as your mind grapples with the changing reality.

In the next moment, you’re spinning, tumbling through the air until you’re on your back, splayed beneath him, hands trapped at your sides. Your legs are folded underneath the width of his torso, your body opened for him just so, the head of his cock pressing against your cervix, stretching the slick walls of your cunt with each punishing thrust.

“I-“ the words are cut off sharply when he seals his mouth to yours, teeth gnashing and gnawing down from your lips to your jaw and then up to you ear.

“You,” He punctuates the word with a sharp thrust, and you gasp. “are mine, little huntress.” It is a vow, snarled through clenched teeth, and your own body betrays you by tightening around him, eager and willing to be claimed. The air is hot, humid and electric with magic, the burning effects of your error travelling through your every vein, every cell of skin. The utterance of your name, the act of your own foolishness strings heavily between you, while your body tenses underneath him.

“Simon.” You breathe and he only nods, holding your cheek in a gentle palm, stroking a loving touch across your face.

“Sweet little Nereid...” He names your kind with a growl, and your heart slams in your chest, his cock thrusting into your cunt wildly, desperately. “More beautiful than the sea herself.” The laugh is crooned, like the satisfying scratch of a needle against a record, and his fingers stroke your clit while he presses himself to you, your hips pinned beneath his weight, your body immobile. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” He smiles darkly, lips curling with sinister satisfaction, and you feel the cold hand of fate reaching into your own chest cavity, rooting around in your soul until magic is searing across your skin, a bending and scraping feeling digging underneath your ribs, your own magic twisting and clawing until it burns away into something new, something changed, something imbued with him.

No. It’s not possible.

“You… you’re-“

“Yes.”

Simon cares little for the mortal realm. It’s pace and its noise and its scents are all cloying to him, obnoxious and foreign, the general rush of its inhabitants and their lack of care for their world offensive to him and his kind. They do not care for their realm, and do not take care of it ether, instead choosing to let it rot and fester beneath their feet, their drive and determination to outdo one another single handedly responsible for the destruction of most of their world. They call it something here, 'capitalism', like naming it will excuse it, while Simon just calls it murder, and greed.

Mortals and their extreme indifference do allow him certain things, however. Their love of violence and obsession with wealth put even the most well-off of his kind to shame at times. His kind loved things that shone, certainly. But mortals? They loved things that bled. It was this lust for power, this ravenous streak of greed that gave him the opportunity to position himself as he has.

As a hunter. A killer. A ghost.

Simon had been hunting for the thing he loved for a very, very long time.

And tonight, he was finally going to bring you home.

The first time Simon saw you; over a century ago, it was beneath Brighton Pier. You had a human male panting after you as you walked beneath the wooden overhang, your hand cupping his cheek softly, eyes full of tenderness and love. Simon, and the man, were both entranced by your beauty, the way your body moved under the night sky, how your skin seemed to glitter against the sand. Simon watched as you led him to where the moon couldn’t reach, beneath the shield of the slats, the dark of the evening hiding you from all prying, curious eyes, except for his.

He watched you take the male inside your body, watched you lavish your tongue across his neck and chest, watched your lips form sweet words of reassurance and honey while you tasted his blood. He watched the nails of your fingers gleam in the low light, watched them sharpen and then dig, scratching and clawing beneath the threads of the male’s skin, until you held an ichor rich organ in your palm, a complex system of vessels and ventricles, it’s sinew glowing red beneath your touch. He stood in awe as you devoured it, your feeding turning into a frenzy as you consumed it piece by piece, the male bleeding out and dying slowly, all while still buried inside your cunt.

After your feast, you dragged the male’s lifeless body down the sand to the water with you, where you pulled it beneath the waves, never to be seen again. Surprised, and intrigued, he stood at the water’s edge, watching the tide that was tinged red lap calmly at the shore. He knew humans had a taste for blood, but this was another desire onto itself. What were you?

The following year, Simon couldn’t help but return to the same area in hopes of spotting you again, the creature unknown to him, a mystery begging to be unraveled. You appeared at dawn on the same day, with a horde of others, who then dispersed into the city and surrounding areas, following the sound of a song he could not hear. He became a creature obsessed, tracking your every movement, watching your every hunt and sacrifice. He stood in the dark while you made love to the mortals whose lives you would take, watched you hunt with wild abandon, watched you enjoy the small, tiny things in your eternal life that others often overlook. He began to know you, began to learn what you liked and didn't, began to learn what made you smile.

You became the brightest spot in his own too long existence, the yearly reminder of love, of vitality, of life. He loved you, desperately, recklessly so. His dreams were filled with soft, sweet visions of you, bloody moments of passion and adoring, lingering kisses that he swore he could still feel when he woke.

It took time, too long of a time, before he discovered who, or what, you were. He spent a century trying to learn how to lure you to the surface. Simon tore apart libraries, bargained favors across dimensions, granted wishes and wove powerful spells just to trade for information on you and your sisters, the Nereids, the lasting remnant of a forgotten power, reclusive magic lurking inside the deepest depths, a realm inside a realm, never to be discovered unless you wished it so. And even then, the additional answers he sought were scarce.

Every year, he returned to the human realm to see you, tucking himself away in cloaks of magic and darkness so that he could creep as close as possible to you. Every year, he watched you hunt, watched you capture your prey effortlessly and consume their heart. He watched you shed a tear for them. Watched your drag their corpses down the beach to the sea, where you carried them into the water with you before disappearing all together.

Eventually, time began to change you. He watched you regard your lovers, your mortals with callousness, and cruelty. He watched you treat them with tenderness, and adoration, caring for them, making their ends sweet and soothing their fears. He watched you stand on the beach for hours at dawn and try to fight the urge to hunt. He burned to take you away from this world, to sever you from your ocean, bring you home to him, but your kind did not live in his realm. He was unsure how to sustain your life, and the search for answers was slow. Years went by, and the soft dreams that he had always welcomed turned to nightmares, fueled by the fear he’d lose you before he even had the chance to try to bring you home.

A decade ago, he watched you falter. Your body trembled as you took your sacrifice, your cries so hysterical he was certain you’d draw the entire block to where you hid in the shadow of someone’s gaff. His own body was rigid with tense, untethered magic that sought to lash out, and he was rife with worry that you’d give yourself away, you’d be caught by some mortal force and unable to return to the sea when the sun rose. The fear he felt was unreasonable, uncontainable. He'd level the city to protect you, to keep you safe, and he nearly did. He almost took you, that night. Was quite close, so close that he was crossing the street in front of vehicles and preparing to pull you into his realm when you composed yourself and completed your harvest, the glowing organ in your hands proof of your will to live, to love.

He rarely left the mortal realm after that. Only to seek his final answer and solidify his plan, his masquerade as the masked Ghost allowing him to exist in the realm indefinitely, giving him the availability to be close for when the time was right, for when you would be ready.

A year ago, you were the last to return to the water, your steps slow and clumsy, your eyes tired and weepy. You appeared satisfied, but as you looked back on the city from the shoreline, he saw the hint of desolation in your eyes, the shadow of dejection haunting your face.

It was more than enough, to spring him into action. More than enough, to find your promised mortal for next year and steal his song, bringing it into himself by a small piece of blood magic, something so simple and obvious Simon cursed himself for not realizing sooner.

This morning, as he observed you and your sister on the beach, he knew he had been right. He could see it in your face. The pain of sadness, of loss twisting your elegance into an ache, those feelings compounded by the admission of your eldest sibling. This could be your last hunt.

It was time to bring you home. Forever.

“That her then?” Johnny nods, indicating he’s looking the same direction as Simon, watching you walk down the curb, paper coffee cup clutched in your hands, face smiling at the sun.

“Yes.” Simon answers, shifting uncomfortably. The bloody song has been heating his flesh for weeks, boiling in his veins and driving him practically mad. Nymph magic. Its incessant hum has been battling his own power, jockeying for position as it worked to pull you to the surface. Combined with his own, he wasn’t surprised it possessed the ability to bring you up earlier than normal, encouraging you and your sisters through the depths and to the shore. If his blood was singing, then so was every other poor sod’s in this city.

You cross the street into the park, dress swaying around your hips, and he indulgently stares at the form of your body, the set of your shoulders, the texture of your hair. He closes his eyes to breathe, reaching into himself to get a handle on the battle of will going on in his blood, the warring magic factions pushing and pulling beneath his skin, begging to be let out, trying to lash out. Soon. He reassures himself. She will be with him soon.

He can smell you from here. You’re ripe. Overflowing, your scent is like a flickering ocean breeze, briny and cold but full of life, of promise. You’re ready, ready to be taken from this awful realm, ready to be bent underneath his body, ready to be crying on his cock as you come while he floods your womb with himself and his power, tying you to him for all eternity.

That is, if he can get you to relinquish your name.

It is a key piece of his plan, and the one that worries him the most.

He knows you do not give it freely; knows you keep it guarded. It’s like you’re already aware that he waits in the shadows for you, watching, keeping track of every step you take, every year, from sunup to the next, until you slink beneath the water where he cannot follow.

The pressure inside his body is nearly unbearable by the time you step into the pub. Dozens of heads turn towards you, mortals’ eyes roving all over your body like you’re a treat for them, like you’re something delicious they’ll have an opportunity to taste. Foolish, greedy mortals, too busy staring dreamily at you to recognize the predator that you are, or the predator he is, oblivious to the two hunters in the room with them right now. He wonders, if you'd bathe in their blood, given an opportunity. The image makes him smile.

Johnny clears his throat expectantly, and Simon nods, casting a glance over to where Gaz sits with a pretty female on his lap, her attentions focused solely on him, her eyes heavily lidded with lust. Johnny gives him a nod.

“Good luck.” He offers and Simon waves him off. He’s no need for luck. His blood sings your song.

“Ready?” He nearly loses control when he watches your face fill with despair for a moment after his question, his aching need to soothe and comfort you almost forcing his hands out to touch you. I'm here, little huntress. You are not alone anymore. He cannot tell you this, not yet. So instead, he applies pressure to your hand gently and waits. When you nod, he breathes just a tiny bit easier.

He cannot stay in this place any longer. The eyes, the mortals, their inane thirst for alcohol and violence starting to scratch underneath his skin. He needed you, needed your name, needed to take you home to his realm, and all this noise and smoke and foul-smelling liquor stood in his way. The feeling of your hand in his soothes him, calms the anxious explosion that’s building in his chest, but it’s not enough. Nothing will be enough, until he has what he wants.

On the way out, he does not miss your little spell. He is, and has been, the most powerful creature in this room. He has felt every ounce of magic used, by you, by Johnny, by Kyle, all night long. It makes his heart swell when he feels your effort to push the dancing female into the arms of her scorned lover, makes his heart soar when he realizes perhaps, you have not given up on love, on life. Perhaps, you just need something else, something other than the hunt, to live for.

He allows you to take your time beneath the Pier. He cannot rush you, cannot allow you the feeling of anything being amiss, being off. You are so close to the sea, so close to the edge of the water that if he spooks you, it will be too easy for you to slip away. Too easy for you to be lost beneath the surface, again, just as you have been for hundreds of years.

When your teeth tear into his flesh he nearly moans, almost loses control again, but tamps down the urge to spring forward and toss you into the sand beneath him. He needs your name, needs your name so bloody badly it has his head spinning, his entire being desperately urging him to act, to claim, to take you. Your cunt is searing hot around his cock, your body shivering in his arms as you rock your hips delicately, eyes watching him half addled, crazed with the lust for his blood, for his heart.

“Will you not tell me your name?” He thrusts slowly up into you, and pity flashes across your features as you bend forward to brush your mouth against your ear. He feels your lips part, hears the intake of your breath and then-

You’re his. The magic begins immediately, bonding you to him, searing you into his soul and vice versa, the song in his blood slipping away until all he feels is the combined force of your power and his, the melding of souls and magic that will guarantee your existence in his realm, by his side, guaranteeing your survival, your ability to thrive. He takes advantage of your confusion, of the chaos that rises in your heart and flips you on your back, spreading your thighs wide beneath him and plunging his cock as deep as he can. So close. So, so close, and then you will be truly his, for as long as you both shall live.

“I-“

“You,” he thrusts harder, desperate to claim you. “are mine, little huntress.” He hisses it, pushing the words forward with the brunt of his power, and you gasp before whispering his name.

“Sweet little Nereid…more beautiful than the sea herself.” He kisses your throat, stroking your clit at a torturous pace while your confused gaze tracks his every movement. “Did you truly believe me to be a mortal?” The magic pushes through your blood and bones, continuing to stitch and sear you to him, and he can’t help the feelings of possession that come over him.

His. His. His.

His magic cuts and gnaws at your own, ripping and shredding it to bits until it’s infected with him, the strength of your name, your free admission to him, turning you inside out, changing the very chemistry of your body. He watches with dark satisfactions as your face shifts, your lips parting with understanding, eyes widening with your knowledge of the truth.

“You… You’re-“ Clever little huntress.

“Yes.” He purrs, and punches his cock back up inside of you, pressing close to your cervix, your body wet and needy, just for him. You shudder and blink hazily, confusion flickering across your features while his magic roots around inside of you and binds you to him, cell by cell. He can still smell you, smell the cool salt air of the sea that comes from your skin, smell the ripeness of your body, your willingness spilling forward in the air, the scent of sweet honeysuckle and sea holly. Your thighs tighten around his hips, your body rocking swiftly in time with him while your brow furrows, like you’re not sure what you should be doing. He licks at the stain of his blood on your lips, his tongue pushing into your mouth, and you let out a sharp whine, small hands flexing against his chest.

“No.” you admonish, face stricken. “No. No, you t-tricked me.”

“I did.” He agrees, reaching between the two of you to rub your clit in a swift circle, your breath hitching. Your face twists into something sour, but your cunt clenches around him, and his lips curl into a crescent moon smirk. “Are you going to come on my cock, sweet one?”

“Unnf.” You moan nonsense, turning your face away from him but he does not stop, hips snapping against yours, his body working to bring yours closer and closer to its climax.

“I think you are.” He hisses and grips your jaw to turn your eyes back to him. They’re wet with tears, but he doesn’t see fear in them, doesn’t see the despair. Only flares of rage, and the heat of desire, the electricity of the magic that is now shared between the two of you. He smiles triumphantly. “I think,” he relaxes his pace, dragging his cock out of you painstakingly slowly, gaze never leaving your lovely face. “you’re going to come for me, and then I’m going to breed you, little huntress.” You tense around him, squeezing his cock, the words pulling a delicious, physical reaction from you that shakes his focus for a moment. His palm lays flat over your lower belly, low enough that his thumb can feel the hardness of your clit, can stroke around it’s hood while you gasp and convulse in his arms. You shake your head stubbornly, chest heaving for breath, and he slams himself back into you, your spine curling forward into his chest.

“Gods.” You cry out, fingers scrambling for something to hold onto, finding his shoulders and sinking deep, deep enough that he knows you're drawing blood. It oozes from the tiny wounds, tracing down his skin and when you pull away, your fingers have been darkened with it.

He watches with small wonder as you slip them into your mouth, face going slack with bliss, cunt spasming around him while he strokes deep. His skin prickles, mouth finding yours again, and you moan into him, uninhibited, full of abandon.

“I have watched you for over a century, my sweet Nereid. Watched you hunt, watched you love, watched you lose.” He slows to look down at you, caressing your face with a gentle touch. “I have watched the light fade from your eyes, watched despair take over your existence.” Your gaze widens, mouth dropping open in surprise, and then closing abruptly, eyes softening around the corners.

“Simon.” You murmur, pressing your finger to the weeping wound from your teeth.

“My huntress. You will never be alone again.” He noses your jaw, licking and sucking against your skin, cold brine exploding against his tongue. Your scent crests, peaking with the honey flower and salt, your body yearning beneath him, cunt milking his cock. “Come for me.” He encourages when he knows it’s time, when he sees the glossy want all over your face. It doesn’t take much urging, another stroke of your clit and you’re coming, body locking up around him, muscles straining as you cry out, face full of bliss and legs tense around his hips. You clamp down around him, holding him deep inside your body like a vice but he works you through it, thrusting slowly inside your scorching cunt, your walls desperately trying to keep him inside. “There you go.” He soothes, fucking you through the aftershocks, your face still twisted up. “That’s just what I needed.” The orgasm makes your more pliable, more soft and less angry, and he sees in your eyes what he knows to be true. You want this. Perhaps this is not what you would have chosen at first, perhaps the magic was too strong in your veins in the beginning, but your body knows what your mind works to accept. You are choosing this, choosing him, over the hunt. Over the sacrifice. Over the immortal life of loss.

So, so close.

He folds your legs towards your chest, opening you deeper and you mewl, lips parted in dazed, post orgasm glow. He can’t help but kiss you again and again, his painfully slow thrusts forcing irritated breaths to puff from your nose.

“Something you want?” He teases, and you nod, pressing your face into his shoulder and groaning into his skin.

“Simon. Please.” You voice breaks, and he feels your cunt pool around him, liquid heat forcing him to grit his teeth in an effort to stave off his own orgasm.

Ask me for it, little huntress.

“Please, what?” He mocks, thumb pressing down on your clit hard, causing you to keen. He doesn’t move, just stays steady inside of you, your cunt working pull him deeper.

“Please, please. I want-“ you gasp when he bites the skin of your neck, and he smiles wickedly. Your cunt practically strangles him now, body working to drag his orgasm from him, magic singing in both of your hearts.

His. His. His.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

Your scent overpowers him, the swell of the ocean behind him combined with the salt of your essence pulling him harder into your gravity.

“What do you want?”

“I want your come.” You beg and he snarls, finally losing control, fucking into your eager body with abandon, hard and punishing while you moan and cry beneath him. He takes your earlobe in his teeth before whispering a vow:

“Then you shall have it.” He plays with your clit, the intensity of his strokes matching the pace of his thrusts and you pant eagerly. “You shall have it every day until you are full of me, full with my child.”

“Yes.” You moan, and he feels you moving towards another climax, your muscles spasming and eyes slipping shut.

“I’m going to breed you, give you my baby, sweetling. Make you mine, forever.” Your back arches and you wail, your cunt clamping down on him again, and he thrusts as deep as he can, chasing his release, fueling his burning desire to empty himself inside of you. He lets go completely, untethers his magic, lets it fully fuse with yours as he spills inside of you, the pressure of his orgasm working against your aftershocks, and your own magic that wraps itself wildly around him, clawing at the seat of his power, desperate to attach itself.

Yours. Yours. Yours.

His. His. His.

You fall asleep on his chest, body relaxed and sated, mouth open in a small o. He needs to get you up, needs to get you ready to travel to his realm but in this moment, he’s content to sit here, against the old wooden pier, timing the rise and fall of your breathing and planning for the future, for eternity.

“Will you care for her?” A musical voice asks from a short distance, and his head snaps up to see your sister, the one you stood with on the beach this morning, inclining her head towards your peaceful, sated body that sits snugly in his arms.

“Always.” He promises, and she nods, eyes looking down the shoreline.

“I am happy for her.” She looks sad, forlorn, not unlike how you appeared hours ago.

“It is not too late, for you to hunt. There is still plenty of time before the sunrise.” He tries to encourage, and she nods.

“Perhaps.” Simon briefly wonders if Kyle or Johnny are still in town, a sinister idea forming in his mind, taking shape before his very eyes. He pushes, just the gentlest bit of magic, the piece that’s mixed with yours, towards her. A long moment passes, and then, “I think I’ll walk.” She motions up the pier and gives a goodbye nod, as he strokes a hand down your spine when you shiver in his arms.

You do not stir until she is a speck on the horizon, and when you do, you lift your head wearily, like you’ve slept for a thousand years.

“What’s going on?” you murmur, shifting your dress so it covers your thighs. He presses a light kiss to your forehead before giving an answer.

“We’re going home now, little huntress.”

#peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #mw2 #ghost call of duty #mermaids #mermaids au #magic au #ghost x reader #cod fanfic

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 1 month

Text

i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.

qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff. please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).

as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.

"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."

you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.

you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.

it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.

when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.

it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.

savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.

and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.

it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.

the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.

you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.

what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?

as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?

savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.

unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.

you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.

it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.

it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.

it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.

until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.

he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.

when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.

when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."

it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.

he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.

he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.

you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.

little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.

"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.

you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.

"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.

so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.

"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."

so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -

it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.

so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.

you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.

it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.

you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.

now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.

this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.

you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.

she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.

"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.

it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.

"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."

"what, no hug for me, eh?"

you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.

"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.

nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.

"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.

"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."

you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.

"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."

lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."

she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.

"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.

"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.

he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.

"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.

he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."

you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.

out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.

even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.

"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.

his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.

if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.

now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.

coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.

and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.

you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.

the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.

you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!

he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.

"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"

and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.

of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.

"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"

you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.

how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.

"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."

there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.

you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.

eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.

"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"

"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."

"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"

nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.

"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."

you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."

"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"

lexi whistled.

"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.

"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.

he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."

the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.

you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.

"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"

"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.

"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.

you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.

"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.

terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.

quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.

jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."

quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.

something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.

as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.

but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.

you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.

"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."

it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."

you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?

lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"

"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."

a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.

"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"

"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.

it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"

he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.

"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.

his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.

"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"

quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.

this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.

"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.

and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.

still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.

you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.

the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.

at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.

the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.

he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.

his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."

you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.

the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.

you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"

his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."

"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."

his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"

you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."

matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.

a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.

"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.

you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.

"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.

"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.

"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."

quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.

a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.

matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.

"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.

he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.

when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."

you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.

"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.

"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"

he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.

"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."

this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"

you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?

you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.

"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."

this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"

you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.

his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.

"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"

"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.

"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."

your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"

his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?

it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?

he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.

making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.

"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.

"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.

your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.

and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.

you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.

and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.

it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.

this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.

it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.

"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."

you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"

lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.

once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.

sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.

"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.

you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.

he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.

you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"

he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."

you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"

he scoffed. "who do you think?"

you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.

it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.

"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.

the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.

you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?

jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."

"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."

lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.

you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.

"where're you going?" luke asked you.

"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.

the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.

you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.

"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.

"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."

"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.

"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"

"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.

"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.

"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.

you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."

"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.

"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."

he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.

you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.

"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.

"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.

"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.

you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.

fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.

"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.

"a clown," you whispered back.

matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"

and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.

what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?

"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."

"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."

"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.

because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.

"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.

sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.

he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.

because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.

"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.

matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.

you were silent for a moment, blinking.

nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."

"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.

nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"

"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.

the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.

the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.

you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."

her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.

you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.

still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.

it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.

the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."

as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.

you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.

you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.

"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.

you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.

he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.

you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.

you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.

unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.

maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.

he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.

here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.

"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"

he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.

"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"

"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."

you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.

"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"

his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.

the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.

"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."

"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"

you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"

"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"

"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.

you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.

and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.

his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.

"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."

something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.

"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.

his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.

you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.

he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.

his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-

"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"

the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.

you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.

savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.

"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"

you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.

she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"

quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.

your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.

quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.

"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."

"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.

she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."

you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.

"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."

she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."

you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.

"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.

he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."

you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.

you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.

as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.

you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.

when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.

you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.

you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.

the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.

it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.

your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.

tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.

i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.

you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.

of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.

more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.

he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.

and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.

oh, how you wanted it to be different.

it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.

at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.

if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.

it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.

"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.

he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."

you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."

luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."

"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.

he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.

you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"

luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.

you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."

you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."

you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.

luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.

his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.

you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.

there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.

"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.

you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.

lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.

you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.

erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."

she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.

nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.

jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.

nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.

"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."

"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.

"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."

luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"

nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.

your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.

the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.

it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.

after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.

it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.

he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?

your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.

you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.

everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.

time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.

but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.

of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.

the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.

the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?

"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.

the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.

that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?

you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.

he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.

the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.

you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.

great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.

you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.

"jesus, doll, there you are."

your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?

your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.

it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.

this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.

he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"

you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.

"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.

he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"

"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"

"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.

"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"

his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.

"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.

your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."

"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.

you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.

"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.

you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?

"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.

he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"

your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.

both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.

you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.

"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."

you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.

his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.

"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.

you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.

you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.

he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.

"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.

what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.

he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.

it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.

the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.

how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.

you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.

that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.

but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.

but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.

at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.

the silence was so beautiful, for a while.

"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.

quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."

your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.

you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.

when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.

the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.

you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.

he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.

he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.

he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.

you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.

you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!

and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.

regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.

the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.

you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.

he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.

"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.

you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.

you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.

the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.

"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.

you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.

"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.

you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.

he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."

the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."

then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.

"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.

"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.

you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."

"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."

your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.

he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.

you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"

you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?

how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?

somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.

"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."

you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.

because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.

"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."

that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.

it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.

your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.

he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.

"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.

"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."

he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"

you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.

he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.

he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.

"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."

you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."

he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."

you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.

his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.

the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."

someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.

you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.

"don't be a brat," he ordered.

a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.

his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.

"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."

"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."

you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."

he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"

"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.

"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."

you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.

his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.

at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.

he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.

"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.

you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.

"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"

he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."

you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."

his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.

when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.

"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"

"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."

savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.

you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.

sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.

"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."

"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"

she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."

you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"

lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"

"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.

quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.

you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.

"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.

you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.

luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."

"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.

you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."

nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."

quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"

"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.

you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.

the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.

you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.

lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.

luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.

finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.

it was a beautiful ceremony.

the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.

you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.

"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.

he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."

you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.

when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.

"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.

"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."

you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"

you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.

he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.

it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.

and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.

fin.

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essekknits · 3 months

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I am feeling the urge to write an AU where Jiang Cheng finds A-Yuan instead of Lan Wangji. And he’s conflicted and grieving and angry, but this is a toddler. Maybe a two or three years older than little A-Ling.

And because A-Yuan wasn’t hidden out in the elements for days like he is in canon, but this is relatively close to the battle itself, he isn’t as sick. He’s scared and confused and he’s crying silently for his Xian-gege, and when Jiang Cheng finds him, he looks terrified at the stranger and just starts wailing.

And Jiang Cheng is angry and grieving and this child is a Wen, and the Wen murdered everyone he loved, and the Wen are the reason his brother left him behind, but this is still a sobbing toddler that wasn’t even born yet when the Wen attacked Lotus Pier, a sobbing toddler who is crying for his Xian-gege to come save him, and as angry as he was, and as with as many people as he killed (because he was a soldier in a war, he’s killed many), he never killed a child and he wasn’t going to do it now.

So he awkwardly tries to calm the boy down, and when he cried himself to sleep, Jiang Cheng scoops him up in his arms and carries him off to Lotus Pier.

And it’s rough. Because the only acceptable way to go about this, about taking this boy in, is giving him his name. Making little Wen Yuan into Jiang Yuan. There is something wrong about it. About someone who belongs to those who took everything from him, having his name and his home.

He wonders if that’s how his mother felt, watching the son of the woman who took her husband’s heart run around her home.

There is something wrong about watching that child play and seeing the ghost of his brother, seeing his brother’s smile on his face and hearing his brother’s laughter from his mouth

He wonders if that’s what his father felt like, looking at Wei Wuxian and seeing the ghosts of the friends he loved.

And a realisation dawns on him that it doesn’t matter, because even though this child has the blood of his family’s killers, he can’t fathom the thought of hitting him with zidian. It makes him sick, to think of a child under that thing, or the many other punishments his mother found for them. For Wei Wuxian.

The boy calls him uncle Jiang, and Jiang Cheng remembers another voice calling that name excitedly across the piers, and wonders why his father, who everyone said loved Wei Wuxian, didn’t give him the protection of his name.

Jin Ling doesn’t grow up as alone, here. He has his big cousin Jiang Yuan, who is bright and confident and loves him a lot, and who he follows like a little duckling as he grows up. It’s only when they both grow up a little that they start finding things a bit odd, like how Jiang Yuan calls Jiang Cheng his paternal uncle, yet no one ever speaks of the man having a brother.

So they set to find out.

#mo dao zu shi #jiang cheng #lan yuan #lan sizhui #jin ling #wei wuxian #jiang yuan au

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

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shades of cool | luke castellan

part two to how to disappear

a/n: happy endings don't exist on this page.

i. and when he calls, he calls for me and not for you; he lives for love, he loves his drugs, he loves his baby too.

“hermes is angry.”

you knew it was your mother before you even saw her. the two, white doves cooing in the middle of downtown berkeley gave her away. although you hadn’t spoken to her in months, too afraid and too upset to put your faith in the hands of the gods since the night at the pier, your mother tried to get your attention every day. the flowers bloomed like clockwork. on your way to class, red and orange bunches sprouted from the corner of your eye. the once welcome reminder of luke turned bitter and painful. it was as if your mother was mocking you for losing him, for losing love. you felt as if you disappointed her, the daughter of the goddess of love, unable to experience it for herself. it was pathetic, really.

you tucked your hair behind your ears, suddenly feeling self-conscious with aphrodite’s eyes on you. she was your mother, sure, and she’d been a better parent to you than most, but she was still a goddess– the goddess of beauty at that. your arms were crossed over your chest, eyebrows furrowed, “why?”

she didn’t answer your question just yet, but she studied your face, eyes scrutinizing the marks of imperfections. she reached over to run her thumb across the bags under your eyes. “you’ve aged, my child.”

you fought the urge to roll your eyes. this was normal with your mother. she made these snide comments about your appearance, but her comments to you were not nearly as bad as what she said to your siblings, and especially not as bad as what other godly parents put their kids through. you could handle a few jabs here and there. you shrugged, “not all of us have the power of eternal youth.”

she nodded, pulling her thumb away, “we have not talked in a while.”

“been busy,” you lied, chewing on your bottom lip. you tugged on the scarf around your neck, wanting to keep your hand occupied as you avoided her gaze. you wondered if your mother missed you, if she actually cared about you. in the weird way that gods do, you suppose that she did care, but you wondered if she cared about you the way a mother would; worry about your safety when you went out at night, worry if you were wearing enough layers in the winter, mundane things like that. “college and stuff, you know.”

“hmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. she motioned for the two doves perched on the tree branch to fly away. they obeyed her, circling around each other in a dance, before flying away in separate directions, away from the both of you. “how many more years do you have left?”

“another two after this and then i’m done.” it was odd talking to her like this, in her human form, like she was a normal mother who was just curious about college and her daughter’s future. maybe she even sounded a little bit proud of you; a child of aphrodite, making a name for herself outside of the life she was dealt. “hopefully, i’ll make it to graduate school.”

a heavy tension hung in the air as your words echoed. aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, thinking. she looked up at the sky, before repeating herself. “hermes is angry.”

you stared at her, waiting for her to continue. there was an unreadable expression on her face, somewhere between anger, pain, and desperation, but it wasn’t her own emotions that she carried. she was mirroring someone, as if their pain was so unbearable, aphrodite herself had to shoulder some of it to save them. the gods were selfish. most of the time, they thought of nobody but themselves, but there were some moments when they showed compassion, when they showed mercy to mortals and demigods alike.

“his son resents him,” she continued, eyes closing like she was picturing it in her mind. “he is angry at me because his son prays to me instead of him.”

“mom, i don’t want to hear this,” you sighed, anger rising in your system. you knew she knew how you felt about the situation. you’d ignored her attempts to talk frequently. “he made his decision. he’s betrayed us all.”

“i cannot ignore him, don’t you understand?” she looked at you, eyes glossed over in a pleading manner. she looked too human. it was unsettling. “his love is loud. he is desperate. i am the goddess of love and i cannot ignore him while he suffers, even if he makes me his enemy.”

“the other gods listen to his prayers to me because i can no longer carry the burden on my own. it is too much, my child,” she shuddered, “all he talks of is you.”

you stared at her, internalizing her words. a shiver went down your spine as you looked at her, “i don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”

“i have tried to tell you, but you’ve been stubborn,” aphrodite frowned, “you do not pray, you do not make your offerings. you have not spoken to your siblings since that night. you have disappeared from this life as if you were not part of it at all.”

“because i didn’t ask for this!” you screamed. “i don’t want anything to do with this, mom. losing luke… it killed me. you know this. i can’t go back there and i can’t make offerings to you or the gods when you all are the reason why he did what he did!”

since that night, you began to question your blind faith in the gods. you’d been taught to worship them and you did because you had to. you were luckier than most, being the favorite of your mother, so you never went against the gods. you thought you had no reason to, until luke began talking to you. he planted seeds of distrust for the gods in you, learning about thalia, meeting annabeth and learning her story from luke, what luke had to go through during his quest. how did the gods sit back and leave their children for dead? but you always believed there was a purpose for all of this, and it provided you with some misguided comfort. then, luke left everyone who’d ever loved him because the anger in his soul won against all odds, and you knew there was no reason to trust them anymore.

if the gods were all-mighty and all-powerful, how could they let him grow so angry and accept this fate? how dare they ignore him and ruin him? he was kind. he was patient. he was luke. he deserved more than what they gave him. all of you do. aphrodite blinked, trying to understand you. a look of panic flashed across her features, her human form slowly peeling away, but you could see her pulling back.

“i’m not saying i’m joining him,” you sighed, rubbing your face with your hands, “i’m just saying what he said to percy made sense. luke had a point. the gods were horrible to him and to all demigods. hermes has no right to be angry with you, or with luke. he should be angry at himself. all of you should be.”

“i can’t forgive luke for what he did,” you whispered, voice calming after a rumble of thunder shook the ground. the gods were listening. “beth still wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. she writes to me every month. i haven’t written back because it hurts, mom. i keep thinking of luke. she reminds me so much of him and it kills me that i can’t do anything to help her. where do i even start? i can’t fulfill the hole he left in her life. nobody can.”

your mother nodded, clearing her throat. “do consider returning to camp this summer. your siblings miss you and your sister is not doing well.”

“piper?”

“silena,” she replied. the doves returned to her. “it was lovely to see you, my child.”

in a blink, she was gone. you wondered if she’d show her face again, but the rain fell from the sky soon after she left, and you realized you probably wouldn’t.

ii. but you are unfixable, i can't break through your world.

“i’ll catch up with you guys in a second,” you motioned for your roommates to keep walking home without you. the two girls nodded, sending you a small wave of goodbye, before they turned the street corner. you began walking towards the entrance of the science building, towards the silhouette of a boy you could recognize in every life.

luke’s jaw was clenched as you approached him. he was caught. luke knew that he shouldn't be here. he knew it was too dangerous, but he couldn't help himself; he had to see you.

berkeley suited you. in college, you were a normal girl, stressed about finals and getting a summer internship. though luke had never seen you outside of camp before, he always imagined that you’d look even more beautiful when you didn’t have the stress of this life on your shoulders. it was weird seeing you out in the world like this. if he hadn’t known you, if he wasn’t already under your spell, he would undoubtedly fall to worship aphrodite’s favorite daughter.

your friends didn’t know who your mother was, but if they saw through the mist, if they knew the truth, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to them. you had an aura about you that was undeniable and for a minute, luke was jealous that these people around you could freely succumb to your pull, to allow themselves into your orbit, while all he could do was watch from afar. they didn’t realize how lucky they were to be around you, they would never fully understand.

you looked happy in the bay area, free, like you weren’t a demigod, like you weren’t preparing for a war. a war that he knew he caused.

he looked down at his feet before rising from the steps. he hadn't planned to speak to you. he’d been following you for weeks, from a distance, of course, he wasn’t going to test his luck any more than he already was, but then you approached him and luke knew there was no hiding anymore.

truth be told, there was never any hiding from you in the first place. you knew him better than he knew himself. sometimes, it scared him, just how vulnerable he was with you. when he first realized how he felt about you, he wanted to squash the feeling between his fingers and make it disappear into thin air. he knew there was nothing good that could come out of it, but he couldn't help but hope.

how could he not? how could he not hope that maybe, in some twisted way, he would be able to be with you? that one day, he could stop running, stop fighting, and just love you the way he wanted to. hope was a cruel thing, luke realized after the night on the pier. it makes him believe that there is good out there, somewhere in the future, daring him to hold on just a bit longer, only to leave him high and dry, an empty shell of who he once was.

“what are you doing here?”

luke let the question linger between the both of you for a second. partly because he didn't know what he was doing here. i needed to see you didn't feel like enough. it barely scratched the surface of what he was feeling. luke was never a wizard with words, but he used to be able to at least say something. now, though, as you stood in front of him, his mind went blank.

“what are you doing here?” you repeated. you had your arms wrapped around yourself to soothe your skin from the wind chills. luke didn't know it got this cold in california. “i’ve seen you a few times, and i thought you’d give it up, but it’s been weeks, luke. so tell me, what are you doing here?”

luke’s mouth was dry. he thought he was being careful, but he should’ve known better. you could always sense when he was around, just like how he knew whenever you were around. there’s something that shifts in the air, as if it gets lighter and it’s easier to breathe. luke wondered if it was still the same for you.

“he's using me,” luke whispered, “like a stepping stone to gain power.”

for a second, your face softened into a look that he knew too well. it was the same way you used to look at him when he talked about his nightmares or when he talked about his mom. a flicker of hope passed through luke’s mind, but he knew better now. he extinguished it before it got too comfortable.

there was a hint of disbelief in your voice when you spoke again, “what did you think was going to happen?”

“i thought i was doing the right thing,” he felt small. “i thought he wanted to make things better for us. the gods, they’re terrible parents. you know this. what they did to thalia, to all of us, i-i just thought that he would make things better.”

you shook your head, “luke, you betrayed all of us. percy, annabeth– did you know that she cries at night over losing you? over losing her brother? she’s lost everyone luke! and you were supposed to stay. you were supposed to be there for her! i saw her last summer when i came back to camp. beth is so much like you.”

“i know,” luke was crying. he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. kronos was taking over every part of him. he was there in every crevice of him, just waiting for the moment to drain him of everything he used to be. “gods, i know, angel. i just thought i was doing the right thing.”

“and me luke,” you rubbed your temples with the pads of your fingers. you hadn’t told anyone this before. you were too busy trying to make sure that everyone else around you was okay. as the oldest one now that luke was gone, you had to step up. your mother was right. your siblings were not doing well, nobody in the camp was. “i feel so stupid for ever trusting you. i keep thinking of every small interaction, every word you said, and i just keep wondering if any of it was real.”

“you don’t mean that,” he shook his head, stepping down to get closer to you. under the light of the streetlamp, you saw him better. if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you probably wouldn’t have recognized him. “everything, all of it, i meant it. you know that right?”

his eyes were sunken in, dark bags outshining the once vibrant sparkle of his eyes. now, the rims of his eyes were red. his hair was matted against his scalp like he let his curls tangle into knots and didn’t bother to fix them. there were newer, smaller cuts that joined the scar on his face. they weren’t as deep, but they were fresh, a sign that whatever he faced was recent.

“i love you, please tell me you at least believe that,” luke rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm, “your mom doesn’t answer me anymore. i don’t know what else to do.”

when you didn’t say anything, luke felt the ground crumbling from under him. luke could live with a lot of things; being a failure in the eyes of his father, being a traitor, but you thinking that he didn’t love you was something he didn’t think he could live with. it was real to him, all of it. he didn’t know if this was the right time to tell you that those moments with you were the only things keeping him grounded.

the image of you throwing your head back in laughter as he tickled your sides, the freckles on your cheeks that showed up during the summer that he would spend hours counting while you slept on his chest, the sound of your voice, talking in hushed whispers, in the dark of the hermes cabin; it was you who he held onto as he fell deeper and deeper under kronos’ control.

luke walked closer to you, holding out a hand to touch you, when you flinched and backed away from him. your fingers unconsciously reached for the dagger you had on your belt loop. he shuddered, taking in a breath. he looked down at his hands, lips trembling as he wiped them on the fabric of his jeans. there was nothing on them, but he wanted to scrub them clean because it felt as if all the blood he spilled was stuck under his flesh, staining them red.

you thought he would hurt you.

“i…” luke trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets. he cleared his throat, “i didn’t come here to fight. i could never hurt you.”

“i don’t know anymore, luke,” you bit your lip, heart breaking as you spoke to him. “i never thought that we’d end up like this.”

“come with me,” he begged. “run away with me.”

“is this what you came here for?” you asked, “to try to recruit me like you did with percy?”

“no,” he shook his head vigorously. he was on the verge of getting on his knees to beg you to believe him. “i want out. i messed up, angel.”

“you did,” you whispered. he looked genuine like he meant it, like he did want to run away from it. a piece of you wanted to say yes, yes, i’ll run away with you. tell me where to go and i’ll follow you, but it was the part of you that still clung to him. the foolish part of you who still wanted to believe that the boy you met when you were younger, stubborn, selfless, sweet, luke castellan was still there.

you listened to that part of you on the final night in the hermes cabin, when you told him you loved him and he said nothing back. you tried so hard to lock that part of you away since that night, but it was hard to deny it when he was there in front of you.

“tell me what i can do to fix it,” luke felt like he was going crazy. “anything, angel. i’ll do it. just say the word.”

you closed your eyes, “there’s nothing you can do anymore, luke.”

“that can’t be true,” he hiccuped.

“you need to go.”

over the last few years, luke experienced brutal types of torture. he often spent days without sleeping, too afraid that kronos would visit him while he dreamt. he fought monsters he didn’t realize existed. he walked away from fights barely hanging onto a thread of life, but this– you telling him that there was nothing else left for him, like he no longer had a place in your life, this was a different type of torture that might just send him plummeting to his end.

“please don’t come back here,” you added, motioning to the buildings behind you. “this was the one place in my life you haven’t tainted.”

his apology was left stuck in his throat as you walked away, not once looking back at him.

iii. but i can't help him, can't make him better and i can't do nothing about his strange weather.

“y/n,” percy said, approaching you from behind.

it was the summer. you were sitting on the pier, a joint loosely hanging off your lips. you put out the lit end on the wooden pier, stuffing the joint in your pocket. you knew percy knew you smoked, but you still tried to hide it from him as much as possible. he was too young.

“hey, perce,” you smiled, kindly, scooting over to give him space to sit next to you. “sorry. you caught me. i’m not really being a good role model right now.”

“it’s okay,” he assured you, sitting beside you. he looked out into the lake, extending his fingers to cause a ripple effect in the water. “i don’t judge.”

you nudged his shoulder. percy looked his age in the light of the sunset. you wondered if you ever looked that young. “don’t tell mr. d.”

“he has plenty of other things to worry about,” percy scoffed, “how are you?”

you knew why he was asking. beth had told you today that they saw luke in the labyrinth. he was now kronos’ host. when she first told you, you were stone cold, no emotion on your face. you knew something like this was possible. it was only a matter of time until you lost luke all over again, completely this time, but it still hurt even though you knew it was coming. you simply nodded and walked off, finding solace at the pier as you always did.

“i’m okay,” you replied, though your voice said differently. you played with the sleeves of your sweater, luke’s sweater actually. he left it in the hermes cabin along with the rest of his things. nobody dared to touch it so his bed remained the same as it was years ago, collecting dust. “he came to see me in berkeley… before, y’know.”

“did he?”

“yeah,” you sighed, leaning back on your elbows. “he said he wanted out. asked me to run away with him.”

percy looked at you, “what did you say?”

“i told him it was too late,” you met his gaze. “i don’t know if it actually was.”

he didn’t know what to say to that. he’d only witnessed your relationship with luke for a few hours when he returned to camp for the first time. it was only a few years ago, but percy felt like it had been lifetimes. he’d heard about you and luke from annabeth and grover. when there were lulls in their conversations, one of them would bring you up and joke about how you and luke should just confess your feelings for one another. percy didn’t understand it until he saw the way luke was with you.

luke, who’d taken him under his wing, was love struck. percy didn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, but there were traces of you weaved into luke’s life. a picture of the two of you in his wallet, a small cal berkeley flag taped messily on his wall, a box of his things under his bed that were reserved for you, doodles of hearts in black and pink ink on luke’s counselor clipboard when he did cabin checks, you were in every piece of him.

luke was glued to your side the entire time you were there and nobody batted an eye. it was normal. luke and y/n, two names that seemed to go together, like they were meant to be uttered right after each other. it felt right.

“i met your mom,” he said, “she was weird.”

“sorry,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “what did she say?”

“she was obsessed with me and annabeth,” there was a blush creeping up on percy’s cheeks. he looked down at his lap to shy away, but you caught it. it was such a teenage boy response of percy to call your mom, the goddess of love, weird because she caught onto the two kids’ feelings for each other.

“yeah, she does that,” you decided to spare him the details of why. you were sure the boy would explode in embarrassment if you told him that you also knew about his feelings for beth. you sensed it when you returned to camp last summer. there were inklings of it when you first met them, but now their bond was stronger and it was harder to ignore. “she used to obsess over me and luke.”

percy blinked, “she said your love was her favorite to watch.”

now it was your turn to go red, “did she?”

“yeah,” he nodded, “annabeth thinks that you’re aphrodite’s favorite because you and luke had a great love and she was drawn to it, which is a little mean if you ask me.”

“agreed,” you replied, “i… i miss him, percy.”

“i know.”

“i love him,” you cried, smudging the mascara on your eyes.

“i know.”

“he wasn’t always like this,” percy watched your eyes unfocus, like you were playing back the memories you had with luke in your head. “when we were younger, before luke was the golden boy, he used to help me sneak out of camp when i’d get home sick. he’d take me to this abandoned cabin a few miles away. an old couple used to live there and they set up a little free library. luke knew i loved to read so he would take me there so i could pick out new books for the summer.”

“i didn’t know it then, but before i got to camp, he would steal books from stores during trips into the city and put them in there so i would have new selections to choose from when i got back,” you had a fond smile on your face as you continued, “the cabin was sold to new owners and they took the library down a while back. i think they thought nobody really used it anymore.”

“he was always good at sneaking around,” you hummed, “he’d walk out of a place with something that wasn’t his inside his pocket; a lollipop for a new camper who was missing home a little extra one summer, a can of soda for beth from mr. d’s stash when it got too hot under the sun, a flower from the demeter kids’ secret garden for me. he never got caught, but everyone knew it was him. i don’t think anyone cared, though, because it was luke. he always had good intentions at the end of the day.”

“do you think he’s still there?” percy asked, voice hushed into a whisper. “do you think he could ever come back to being that way?”

“probably not,” you turned to face him. you were mourning him, percy realized then. luke wasn’t dead, not physically anyway, but the way you spoke about him felt like he was already gone. “luke, he internalizes everything he does. he beats himself up over the things he does wrong. if he were to survive this, i don’t think he’d ever forgive himself for it.”

“this life, this prophecy, it feels like too much sometimes,” he mumbled. the sun was gone now, the two of you sat in the dark, listening to the calm sounds of the water. “i still feel like i don’t know what i’m doing most days.”

“yeah,” you played with the pink lighter in your hand. the heart you drew on the plastic was long gone and there was no more fluid in it, but you kept it anyway. “my prophecy said that i would lose a love to worse than death and i ignored then because it didn’t make any sense to me, but now it does.”

“i’m sorry.” percy didn’t know if it was the right thing to say.

you smiled at him differently, like you were tired, a look of resignation across your face. you stood up, motioning for him to follow you back to camp to join the others. as you walked together in silence, you noticed a single dove fly across the horizon.

iv. high, neglectful lover. you’re crumbling, sadly. you’re sadly, crumbling.

you’d fought through your wounds, even as your bones ached and your blood stained the clothes over your body. luke appeared then. you didn’t know if the gods took on mercy on you at that moment, or if was the lack of energy to distinguish real life from your dreams, or a mist that covered the truth from you then, but the world seemed to stop and everyone seemed to fade away.

all you saw was luke, in his camp half-blood shirt, five beads around his neck, the same boyish smile on his face. his eyes were sparkling as he approached you. his lips felt soft to the touch and his voice was kind.

“my angel,” he said, wrapping his arms around you the same way he always did when you returned to him each summer.

if you were to choose the way death came for you, you would choose it just like this, you decided– in the arms of the one love you’d ever known.

#frances writes #frances song fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo series

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msafterhours · 6 months

Text

Drive

Male Reader x Hwang Yeji

~3.1k words

This should be one of the best ways to spend an evening. Winding through the curves of a familiar mountain road with the top down, sunglasses on as the sun slowly descends below the skyline. The music's blasting louder than it probably should be, but you're unwilling to add anything to your currently empty list of concerns.

No, in this moment, as the summer breeze flows through your hair, you feel weightless. It's honestly hard to believe how many things are going right in this singular moment of time.

Now if only the passenger seat wasn't empty.

You’ll always remember the first day you met Yeji. She found you leaning against the wooden railing of the pier, staring out at the shimmering reflection of the moon across the ocean’s turbulent waves as you desperately wished for answers to questions you didn’t know how to ask. So, when the frigid winds picked up her words and carried her question over to your ears, of course you didn’t know how to respond.

"Didn’t you hear me? I asked, what're you doing out here? It's nearly midnight!"

Honestly, she could have asked your name and you would have drawn a blank.

It would quickly become a running theme, how much better Yeji was with words than you. But in this initial moment, the start of something truly special, someone somewhere must have been looking out for you, handing you a response like a cue card.

"You know, I've been asking myself the same question for a while now. Wanna help me figure it out?"

And when you read the sparkle in Yeji’s eyes as an invitation and offer your own by waving her over, you thank the stars above that she accepts. And in the hours to come, as you huddle close, sharing stories and learning about each other, you thank them once again that she ends up staying long enough to watch the sunrise.

But you can’t help but wish for just the slightest bit more. You can’t help but wish that she’ll stay forever.

…

Even with a gun to your head, you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone much about your first date two weeks later. The only thing you’d be able to tell them about was the kiss. Because while the rest of the night mattered, nothing but the kiss mattered.

Why would you focus on the color of her dress when all you could remember seeing is the fireworks show playing against the inside of your eyelids? Why would you remember if your order was a good choice when the faint taste of strawberry was busy sending your mind into a tailspin? Why would you care about literally anything else at all when the sensation of Yeji’s lips against yours felt like home?

The only other detail that stuck out was the sensation you felt after, when you arrived at your place and realized that you had no recollection of the drive home; when you realized that for the first time, your brain hadn’t treated the opportunity to drive as a priority.

Yet despite the novel sensation, you felt anything but surprised. Because from the very first moment Hwang Yeji stood by your side, you knew that you had discovered a higher priority. The highest priority.

…

One of the few things you two never could agree on was who said "I love you" first. It’s admittedly hard to tell since you both said it simultaneously after an extended period of staring into each other's eyes, but as much as both of you were willing to compromise on most things, here, stubbornness reigned supreme.

Yeji tended to argue that she definitely said it first as she always had a quicker wit and was far more likely to have the first word (or three). Your counter was always that you kept things simple, so there were fewer distractions between you and what you wanted to say.

It was, admittedly, the weaker argument. Yet you stood firm all the same.

These conversations often tended to go around in circles, with each of your points being put forth, listened to, then promptly ignored. And while neither of you were able to declare yourself the winner of these “battles”, you both left them feeling victorious.

Because the conversation always ended in the same place. Where it always did. Where it always would. With those same three words.

…

In retrospect, it’s a testament to whatever meager bits of self-control remained within that you kept your hands off Yeji for so long. However, a rainy night that left you both racing towards your apartment changed everything.

The door slammed behind her. You felt that control begin to falter. The rain traveled down her skin agonizingly slowly before falling to the floor below. You loosened your grip even further. She pushed you against the wall and crashed her lips against yours. You conceded to her entirely.

For you both, it was a boiling point, a release of tension, an evolution in your relationship, a miracle, a feeling so fucking amazing that you both forgot how to breathe—

And as your survival instincts forced you both to break away from the kiss and finally satiate your need for oxygen, it wasn’t the scent of Yeji’s rose shampoo that made your heart find a way to shift into seventh gear. No, it was the metallic taste seeping out of your lower lip.

It was the way she hungrily ran her tongue over those fangs that had marked you.

It was the predatory smile she gave as you audibly gulped.

It was the way she grabbed, spun, and pushed you back until you stumbled over the arm of the couch.

It was how she pounced on you, her prey.

And for the rest of the night, even hours later when your soaked clothes were long forgotten and your only defense against the raging storm was the heat emanating off of each other’s bodies, the cold was the least of your concerns.

Because you were together.

Finally.

…

It was early in your relationship when you drove her to the jewelry store. Early enough to not arouse suspicions.

For once, you played your part well, eloquently telling Yeji that you simply wanted to get her something special. Something that would make her think of you. And you told her no lies.

Thus, she was willing to oblige when you asked her to try on a multitude of options and simply enjoy herself. And you truly did enjoy yourself, happily buying her the necklace Yeji chose as her favorite. You just made sure to secure one other thing. Her ring size.

Because you already knew.

…

Yeji didn’t have to use her words to tell you something was wrong. You needed only look into her eyes to see the predatory edge gone, replaced by a lethargic malaise. So you showed her your love in the best way you knew how. Through action.

A quick call to her colleague secured the weekend off of work. A second call got her friend to pack a bag of her things. A third got you the weekend off as well, with the concession of promising to handle the upcoming project from hell you’d been avoiding for months. And a final call secured you your venue of choice, with blessings from the owner.

Thus, with everything in place, you were ready to pick her up when she ended her day. And despite your vague answers as to where you were taking her, she was more than ready to go along with you.

And so, you began to drive.

…

You took the turns slowly, methodically. Anything to keep the ride as smooth as possible. Anything to keep Yeji as comfortable as possible. Anything to keep from ruining the perfection of this moment. And though you did your best to keep your eyes on the road, you couldn’t help yourself from stealing glances at her every once in a while. And as always, her eyes were a masterpiece worth a million words.

You saw the slightest bit of trepidation. You saw a sense of excitement. You saw relief. Contentment. Wonder. Joy. And when Yeji looked up at the rearview mirror and met your eyes, you saw a reflection of your own heart. You saw love.

And you could only hope that your entire heart would be enough to repay it in kind.

…

The cabin made its presence known immediately upon entering your view. It was tall, with the high ceilings and slanted roof making it look even larger than the floor plan would suggest. With two floors, a deck, a path to the lake, and a multitude of unexplored rooms, it would likely have been more than enough for just about any couple staying there alone. However, if Yeji’s uncharacteristically rigid movements were any indication, it still might lack enough usable surfaces to work out her tension.

But that was a problem for the rest of the weekend. The immediate priority was the present, so you grabbed your things and the groceries waiting on the front porch, then went inside and began preparing dinner. And while the dinner and coinciding conversation were nothing short of delightful, it was a moment during the preparation that you knew would remain imprinted in your mind forever.

Yeji insisted that you both wear aprons during the preparations. A seemingly silly request, and one that you likely would have brushed off if asked by anyone else. But when Yeji wrapped her arms around your waist to tie the knot, you were suddenly very glad to have acquiesced.

Because somehow, some way, it felt more comfortable than anything you had ever experienced. It was more familiar than this cabin that you had first visited as a child. And as you wrapped your arms around her and she melted into your embrace, you knew tying the silly apron was far from the priority.

So, you held her, far longer than you’d need to tie her apron. You stood there, arms wrapped around each other, long enough for the silence to convey everything that you wanted to tell her but couldn’t find the words for. And a while later, when you detached from one another and looked at Yeji through misty eyes, you prayed that the sparkle in her own was there to stay.

…

Yeji didn’t respond verbally when you asked her to close her eyes and follow your lead. She simply slipped her hand into yours and allowed her world to go dark. Thus, despite being able to traverse this route with your eyes closed, you methodically led her out of the dining room, through the living room, out onto the deck, down the path, and onto the dock that served as your destination.

And when she opened her eyes and saw the lake that defined your childhood, she found herself stunned, truly at a loss for words. And it turned out that those couple seconds were all you needed to render her speechless once again, as you dived into the lake, fully clothed.

When you resurfaced, the first thing you noticed was the sound of Yeji’s laughter dancing across the glassy waters that you had just shattered. The second thing was her gleaming smile that shined brighter than the full moon overhead. The third was the uncertainty rooting her to the wooden planks of the dock.

But when you invited her to join you, she dove into the lake without the slightest bit of hesitation. Because Hwang Yeji knew you’d be there to catch her. And when she kissed you, it wasn’t a question. Nor an answer. It was a promise.

One you were more than happy to return in kind.

…

Less than an hour later, after the initial rush of adrenaline had worn off and the cold had begun to permeate through your bones, you carried Yeji back to the house and commenced your favorite way of staying warm.

But this time felt different.

Because when she looked up at you, staring directly into your eyes as she took you into her mouth, you found no traces of her regular ferocity. You still saw desire, but you also found insecurity. You found gratitude in her eyes. You found fear, adoration, vulnerability.

You found her.

So, as Yeji continued sending shockwaves across your entire body, you needed no words to tell her exactly how good it felt. Your clenching muscles and curling toes and quick inhalations said everything.

But you told her anyway. Because you needed her to know.

And as the moon ascended to its apex before hurriedly descending back below the horizon, trying to hide from the absolute vulgarity you were committing between the sheets, you spent the rest of the night showing Yeji exactly how you feel.

…

You had always viewed alarm clocks as a cruel invention. After all, who in their right mind would want to set a time limit on their dreams?

But when you shifted from sleep to consciousness and awoke late that morning, you found yourself merely shifting from one dream to another. You found yourself holding Yeji in your arms, granted the perfect angle to observe her flawless visage as golden beams shone through the windows and cast a gentle light across her sleeping form. And just as you began to doubt whether you were even awake at all, Yeji’s slow, hot breaths against the base of your neck brought you back to reality.

So, you held her, far longer than you needed to fully awaken. You laid there, arms wrapped around Yeji, long enough for her to finish whatever dream she was experiencing. And a while later, long after you had lost track of the time passed but well before she awoke, you realized you’d decided to stay a long, long time ago.

…

Unfortunately, you were reminded that dreams don’t last forever when your alarm clock began its cacophony that next Monday. And even though you’d told Yeji the nature of the compromise you’d made, it didn’t make the following weeks any easier. You had, after all, volunteered to manage this project. And if you wanted to keep the job you had spent your entire adult life working for, you knew you couldn’t deliver anything but perfection.

So, you got to work. And as the hours stretched on and the days began to blur together, the long days turned into long nights turned into long weeks. And the strain on your relationship was impossible to miss.

Your sins started small, like not responding to a text until hours later or having to cancel a lunch date. However, as the list of your transgressions grew, so too did their severity. Yeji did her best to be supportive and might have acted as if it were okay that you didn't follow through with your daily good night calls, but the cracks in her voice allowed the truth to trickle through.

And as much as you wanted to be there to hold Yeji close and help her heal the wounds you had caused, you were terrified of the possibility of not delivering on this project. Of losing the benefit of years of schooling and even more years of hard work. So you soldiered on, assuring yourself that these short-term pains would be worth it in the end. Surely a couple months were worth losing for benefits that would last years to come?

Unfortunately, your calculus broke the exact moment you snapped at her for calling you during a meeting. And Yeji, the eloquent half of your relationship, left you in silence.

…

The first day was hell.

The second day was worse.

Each day was marked with the same routine, with you reaching out and asking for a chance to apologize and Yeji letting her silence suffocate your request.

Nothing was worth this.

But it wasn’t until a week had passed and you found yourself alone in your apartment once again that the calendar reminded you that your anniversary was in one week’s time. And somehow, with the realization that you hadn’t even known how badly you’d fucked up, you hit a new low.

So, immediately, you broke down and sent her a flurry of messages, pleading for a chance to ask for forgiveness. To your surprise, you received a response. You received a location, the same restaurant where you had your first date together. You received a reservation time and instructions to pick her up 30 minutes beforehand. And, you received a date. Your anniversary.

Realizing that you’d probably already said too much, you promised to be there. And you waited. 7 days of pain. 168 hours of suffering. 10,080 minutes of torment. 604,800 seconds of agony. But when the time came, you made damned sure you were early.

And so did Yeji. She was there, leaning against a pillar and staring up at the sky. Waiting for you.

But when she got in the car, Yeji refused to even look at you, not even allowing you the chance to begin your apology as she told you to drive. So, you trusted her. And did as she asked.

You began to drive.

…

Despite the frigid climate in the car, you couldn’t help but feel a warm relief at having this opportunity. At having Hwang Yeji back by your side. And though you did your absolute best to keep your eyes exclusively on the road as you deftly navigated the icy streets, you couldn’t stop your heart from stealing a few glances in the rearview mirror. And when you saw the tiniest bits of moisture beginning to gather at the corners of those steely eyes, you couldn’t stop that same heart from manifesting the slightest bit of hope within your soul.

But until you earned the chance to apologize, you continued to drive.

...

You honestly should have seen it coming, but the anxiety threw you off your game just a little bit. Just enough.

You honestly think you would have been alright with it all. It wouldn't have been easy, but you could have accepted the fact that the semi truck over your right shoulder blew through the light as if it were merely a suggestion. You could have dealt with the whiplash of the impact and the pain and the damage and the medical bills.

You could have dealt with it all.

If only the passenger seat was empty.

(My sincerest gratitude to @worldsover and @braaan for reviewing this piece, this fic wouldn’t be anywhere near where it is now without their help. Also, much love to @okaylikesmomo, @capslocked, and @majorblinks. I wouldn’t have finished this without your support.)

#itzy smut #yeji smut #kpop smut #itzy yeji #male reader #yeji x reader

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 15 days

Text

Imagine talking to Makino about Shanks...

You woke up to a soft kiss against your shoulder. Feeling the bedsheets shift a little, you heard quiet footsteps pad across the room until they eventually disappeared. Stretching, your limbs ached reminding you of pleasant moments from the night before. You hummed at the comfort and slowly fell back into a deep slumber.

When you finally felt the sun the backs of your eyelids, it was clear that it was time to get up. With a small huff, you gathered your energy and began to start the day.

Once you had freshened up, you peered into the room adjacent and found that it was missing one troublesome curly-haired boy. With a small hum, you ventured out to village to the only bar that he frequented.

“If you’re looking for Luffy, he’s under the piers again.” Makino offered when she saw you enter with eyes darting around the empty chairs.

Her comment eased your mind. At least he was safe in his space. Taking a seat opposite the working woman, you sighed a little.

“What day is it?” A yawn escaped your lips and Makino passed you the only drink that helped lift your spirits mornings like this. Her special blend of ice and select fruits was incredible.

“It’s the end of the week thankfully. Come to think of it, it’s the second last week of the month.”

Choking on the liquid, you leaned forward and hammered your chest to clear your airways. You had thought yesterday was just a rogue visit.

Crap. Quickly setting the drink onto the table, you turned to face the harbour and saw the familiar flag of the Red-Haired Pirates draw near which meant that-

“Shanks is back!” Luffy declared as he ran into the bar and stood in front of you. His eyes were bright with excitement and his smile carefree. Knees bounced as he could barely contain himself.

“Shanks is back!” He cried once more before dashing out of Makino’s bar with great speed towards the port.

“Hey!” You called out and leapt from your seat to the edge of the Makino’s bar.

“Luffy, don’t run so fast!” The warning fell on deaf ears. Resigning, you leaned on the wooden pillar.

“That kid’s going to be the death of me.”

“I would have thought that you would be just as excited?” Makino wondered as she restocked the shelves. “That ship means their Captain is here as well.”

You smiled a little at the mention of Shanks and took a seat at the bar. “I - um, I actually saw him last night.”

Makino hummed a little and sent you a knowing smirk. The captain of the Red-haired pirates had been smitten with you ever since he landed months ago and she had caught him sneaking out of your home on many occasions.

Raising an elbow to the table, you leaned against your palm and sighed. “What am I doing Makino?” You asked. “I work during the day, I’ve somehow become Luffy’s guardian and now I’m sleeping with a pirate.”

“I think you’re enjoying the fruits of life. Especially when they sail in a day early just to see you.” The barkeep comforted. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

She was right. It was okay to live in the moment and let things be as they are. Besides, Shanks made it adamant to give his heart to you from the start.

Masterlist here (for more One Piece)

#gif is not mine #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #theladyofmanyfandoms #shanks opla x reader #shanks opla imagine #shanks x you #shanks x reader #shanks imagine #opla!shanks x reader #opla!shanks imagine #opla imagine #opla x reader #one piece imagine #one piece x reader

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whispereons · 9 months

Text

Oracle!Reader Part 9

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 8, Part 10

Warning! This chapter has some gore and death! Remember my sagau has darker worldbuilding and it's an imposter au! Yanderes is a warning in itself.

Muffled thumping and talking bothered your slumber. Feeling groggy you opened your eyes slowly. A groan slips past your lips as your head pounds when you move to sit up. What happened last night?

Memories of the night before coming back to you in a trickle before it rushes your mind all at once. Your mask!

Urgently you feel your face and relax a little at it still being there. But what if Kazuha took it off and put it back on? You would be put in a cell, right? The bedding underneath you were still soft and warm in fact something even warmer was on your legs too...

Looking down you see a head of white and red hair resting on your leg. The sleeping face of Kazuha with bed hair was sitting on a chair letting his upper body rest on the bed.

As cute as he was, sleeping very content on your legs you needed answers to whether he removed your mask or not. Why he was sleeping here was secondary.

"Kazuha? Kazuha, wake up!" You shake his shoulders gently as you call his name. He wakes up almost immediately no doubt due to his sensitive hearing.

"Y/N? Why are you-? Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry." It doesn't take Kazuha long to realize the situation as he jumps away from the bed in a hurry. The slight red to his ears as he turns his head away from you is an easy indicator to his embarrassment.

"It's fine really. You carried me back to my room, right? Thank you for that." His reaction was technically positive while referring you by name meaning he didn't take it off. You should be fine... for now.

"It was no trouble Y/N, especially as you had done the same for me the first night. It's just a little worrying how tired I got once I laid you on the bed. I must have been exhausted from the battle since I didn't drink anything."

Kazuha's complexion starts to cool down as he speaks about the sudden sleepiness. It's quite convenient, a little too convenient. Teyvat probably had a hand in this. You were grateful for it either way.

Politely you dismiss Kazuha who is more than eager to escape the situation. Packing up the last of your stuff and freshening up, you leave the room and climb the stairs.

The cawing of birds become clear, and you look to see the bustling pier of Liyue Harbor. You recognize it as the farthest pier from the city entrance. Unlike the game where you only saw a few people and sellers, it was much busier now.

People of all colors and clothing walked around buying, selling, playing, and working. Liyue was said to be home to many people meeting, so it was nice to see an actual busy port.

Tightening your grip on the strap of the bag, you hope that the crowd will help you escape from meeting any acolytes. Zhongli, Ningguang, and Yelan were the top people to avoid. A smart, well connected Ningguang is far more dangerous than the isolated adeptus Ganyu or Xiao.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Turning around at the sound of your name, a hug from a very excited chef and panda nearly topples you. Smiling a little you hug her back.

"Woke up fine after passing out like that Xiangling?" She pulls away with a pout at your words. Guoba is still clinging to you, and you pet his head while smiling at Xiangling.

"I'll be able to handle more next time! I swear it." You nod along to her determination before asking her a question.

"Where's Xinyan? I know she had a performance today; did she leave already?"

"That's correct. Xinyan had to leave around the same time Beidou left for business. Furong relayed her message to me about it."

Kazuha strolls to where you're standing with Xiangling. He's carrying a small bag with him hinting that he might be staying in Liyue for a while.

"That's a shame, maybe I'll get to see her when I'm in Liyue Harbor. I'm guessing you both have your own ideas on what to do in Liyue."

Speaking casually, you begin walking off the boat onto the port, Kazuha and Xiangling follow behind you.

Xiangling speaks about fishing before going to Wanmin Restaurant where she can go back to helping her dad. Kazuha's calm voice mentions a trip to the Lisha area where he had yet to explore.

Keeping your tone light, you vaguely speak of traveling around and the possibility of visiting another nation. It's best to have a flexible track record to avoid being stuck in any minor lies.

The crowd around you seems to grow thicker. It pushes the three of you together into a clump in the crowd. The smell of fish, sweat, and salt is grossing you out.

Kazuha's featherlight grip on your wrist and Xiangling's warm hand on your shoulder are what helped you all stay together and escape the masses. You sigh in relief at the cool breeze sweeping away the hot sticky feeling.

Quickly you begin saying your goodbyes to them only to be surprised by their slight clinginess.

"Why are you leaving so fast? I can treat you to a meal at Wanmin Restaurant first." She keeps her hand on your shoulder as she inches closer. Trills come from below and you look to see Guoba clinging to your leg. When did he come over?

"I agree, we don't have to split so fast. If anything, you can explore the Lisha area with me." Kazuha changes his grip from your wrist to your hand with ease.

You would be more than happy to, but you really didn't want to attract more vision holders. They would inevitably ask about you since you awakened most of them. That would lead to more questions, more lies, and less freedom.

"I'm sorry but I do have things to take care of in the city first. I don't want to hold either of you back. Xiangling, the fish you want are only around this time of day and Kazuha, I won't have you waiting hours or even days for me." You speak with firm tone and escape their holds.

Xiangling and Guoba wear matching sad puppy looks while Kazuha seems calm. The slight tremble of his hands as he waves goodbye to you doesn't go unnoticed.

He really can't understand just why he's so attached to you. It's not like him to get this troubled by saying goodbye to people he's met during his travels. His hand shook resisting the urge to hold you again.

Perhaps some time away from you would be good. For you and him.

You turn the corner around Hanfeng's Ironmongers and release the breath you've been holding. Relaxing your shoulders, you resist the urge to groan as you walk along the stone floor.

This was certainly a new pattern that you've begun to notice in your acolytes but not unwelcome. Being clingy and attached to you will help blind them from any slip ups you might make. It was nice to feel loved by your comfort characters too...

The headache you've been sporting since you woke up pulses as if reminding you of its existence. Drinking on a boat was not your best decision but you wouldn't count it as your worst yet. That spot belonged to your moment of weakness with Gorou that gained Yae's attention.

Sighing you keep walking trying to remember the first stop you had planned.

"-thank you for supporting the Adventurers' Guild." Your ears perked at the end of the sentence and a person in the signature green outfit.

That's right, you wanted to finally join the Guild since you never got the chance to in Inazuma. With renewed vigor you walk further and climb up the stone steps.

As you begin climbing the wooden staircase (was it always this high?) you see a black hat and two long twin tails as you climb up. The body gestures and promotional voice are a clear indicator to who is gracing Lan, the Liyue Branch Master, with her presence.

"This new proposal is designed to make anyone, especially you agree to it. The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is always up to date, so we increased the number of coffins you get with your first order to 150 wooden coffins due to departure of Rex Lapis."

You get to the top of the stairs letting you have front row seats to the amusing sale performance.

"I hope you remember the on-site cadaver collection service covering almost every region in Liyue. Because I'm proud to say that we now cover them all. The fee is still very affordable of course!"

Hu Tao smiles perfectly as Lan only gets more annoyed.

"Even when you had the traveler, I still rejected you."

"So, you do remember! That's perfect as now I won't have to drag her here to be a reference again. The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor fully understands why you may be hesitant to agree due to the social ideals. Despite the fact that everyone and everything ends. But it truly is in your best interest to agree to my proposal."

Hu Tao seems to get a little more desperate as Lan presses her hands to her temple.

"I mean, she isn't wrong." Your honest thoughts are spoken aloud drawing the women's attention to you.

Unlike Hu Tao's cheery and overly persuasive voice, you take on a more relaxed tone.

"You want to keep your adventurers safe and making them agree to this would look bad is what you're thinking right? But don't you see how Hu Tao's proposal is making them safer? An adventurer agrees to this job knowing that their life is in danger, if they get scared at the thought of signing that waiver then they aren't cut out for adventuring. How would they survive when attacked? They won't, so this may help prevent needless deaths."

Hu Tao's eyes sparkle at your words as Lan seems dumbstruck. You don't blame her, a random person coming up and taking Hu Tao's side on her business practices is a rarity.

"Now if you agree, you could prevent a lot of heart ache for those who are connected to the adventurers too. Someone has to pick up the bodies, Hu Tao's on-site cadaver collection is the best option. If not them then you'll need to have a different adventurer pick them up, have the family pick them up or pay a bigger fee for the Parlor to do it. You wouldn't want someone who was friends, coworker or family to deal with that corpse if you don't have to, right?"

This was all stuff you've wanted to tell Lan when you saw this scene in Hu Tao's story quest. It felt good finally getting it off your chest. Hu Tao's idea was really more like insurance similar to those who worked dangerous jobs like construction.

"Someone that recognizes my genius! I thought I had a way with words until I heard you speak of possibilities I couldn't even fathom. Tell me what's your name?"

Hu Tao shakes your hand excitedly and before you can even open your mouth to respond she looks back to Lan.

"But before that, I would like to seal the deal with Miss Lan on the offer. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor has a long and detailed history of honoring the client's requests on their death bed. So, agree to this now and reap all the benefits!"

"I said no, I'm not telling you again Hu Tao. Say what you will but I'm not changing my mind. And you, do you have any actual business with the Adventurers' Guild? If you do, speak to Katheryne if not then leave."

You chuckle at the way Lan stubbornly rejects Hu Tao with a scowl before piping up coyly.

"Well lucky for you Lan, I'm Y/N and I'm looking to be an adventurer." The smile you have seems to annoy Lan even further. She mutters something sounding very similar to "of course they are" and points at Kathryne.

"Miss Lan may be unwilling to partner up with me but the same can't be said the same for you Y/N. Those eyebags, slumped shoulders, and frizzy hair. All of that to point to you being chased by something intangible. Why don't you come over sometime and I can get you a 30% discount on a nice coffin as thanks for your help?"

Were you really that haggard looking or was Hu Tao exaggerating it to sell to you? The speed Hu Tao can switch targets from Lan to you is bit startling. Her elemental ghost creeps around her back to wrap around your waist pulling you closer to her.

"Much like you said earlier, an adventurer's life isn't easy! If you agree now, I can promise a special on-site cadaver collection that can extend as far as Monstadt and Sumeru. Buy now and save later, it's the families that regret not buying a coffin or spot for burial."

Well, you did vouch for Hu Tao's proposition earlier so it would be hypocritical to refuse now. But what if you're dragged back to Inazuma and die there? Or worse your identity is exposed leading to you not being allowed a funeral?

The furrow of your brows and finger on your chin as you mentally compare the pros and cons makes Hu Tao smile wider. Until an employee from the Funeral Parlor runs up the stairs calling her name.

"Director Hu Tao, we need your help with the same customer from last week. She keeps trying to change the plan last minute!"

Sighing in annoyance, Hu Tao releases you and steps backward letting you have your personal space back.

"It seems this must be all the time we have together Y/N." She keeps her hand over her heart as she speaks dramatically before wistfully continuing. "A meeting with someone like you is once in a lifetime, so here!"

A business card with the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor name, symbol and address is thrusted in front of you. The address changes to something readable as your fingers brush over the words and her cold rings as you take the card from her.

Do you even want to keep this paper? It's like a guaranteed ticket to meeting Zhongli who you've felt very conflicted about since you arrived here. He and Venti have had thousands of years to grow as worshippers while watching the cult grow. If anyone could pick up your lie, it would be them. Maybe burning the paper would be the best option.

You wave in slight befuddlement as the employee drags Hu Tao away in a hurry. Once she's out of sight, you turn back to the Adventurers' Guild front desk.

"So how do I start?"

After filling out the stacks of paperwork Katheryne handed you, you give it back and crack your wrist. It had asked all manners of questions from 'do you have any control over the elements?' to 'which of the three mushroom types is edible?'. Something tells you Lan made it purposefully harder.

Katheryne disappears into the building with Lan and after a few minutes she comes back out with a smile.

"Congratulations, you've been accepted into the Adventurers' Guild. I am unable to draw up an adventure rank for you but here is your adventurer handbook."

You take the familiar handbook from her and wince at the way her voice glitches when speaking about your adventure rank. Katheryne has always been a meta character so perhaps with your isekai'd statues the system is struggling. Or Teyvat is doing this to protect you as it's heavily implied Kathryne was created by Sandrone, the Fatui Harbinger.

"Due to your lack of adventure rank we will skip that area. Instead, we can give you the choice of wearing your regular clothes or the adventurers' uniform. It's made of material designed to stand against attacks, the weather, and long durations of time."

You smile and shake your head. That uniform would be a dead giveaway to your new job. Plus, it was kind of ugly, there was no way you would run around looking like Tingle from Zelda.

Wait why did they never offer the traveler the option to wear the uniform?

"Then let's get to the main aspect of adventuring, which is commissions. Between the choice of a single daily commission or four weekly commissions, you chose the latter. You are free to pick up your commissions tomorrow morning. Any questions or concerns?"

There was no option for four daily commissions on the paperwork. They must have given it due to the traveler proving their strength using the Dvalin stunt that happened right before the 'Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild' quest. Or because it's a game.

"Just one, will I have to fight abyss mages and hilichurls? Since I wrote that I could control some elements and fighting skills."

"Yes, you will have to face such monsters since you said yes to both questions. Of course, you won't be facing strong ones as all new adventurers start with easy monsters until their adventure rank rises. Unfortunately, since we can't assign you a rank, you will never be assigned commission focusing on stronger enemies."

What a relief! You already felt horrible at the thought of fighting against the cursed khaenri'ahs. Making the fight more difficult would just make it worse.

"Then ad astra abyssosque, Adventurer! With effort, you shall reach the stars and conquer the abyss!"

That signature phrase makes you smile at the robotic woman before leaving down the stairs. That had to be the simplest job interview you've every applied for!

Not to mention this is the only one you've ever successfully gotten hired for. Most deny you for not having a high school diploma and the rest for not having a GED. You would have gotten one if your old boss ever let you. But the way a gang keeps you trapped is by cutting off any other options. If you never get better, you can never leave.

You walk back down the stairs and stuff the handbook into your bag. What to do now? Visiting Hu Tao is not an option, and this was Liyue for crying out loud! You couldn't explore Inazuma in fear of being seen but the problem didn't exist in Liyue... for now at least.

Glancing at the teleport waypoint in the middle of the city, you make sure to keep a good distance from it. Accidentally activating it would be the worst thing especially with all the people around.

Pushing back any worries you begin exploring the Harbor while checking stores for anything useful. The red of the building frames were such an eye-catching design compared to the monochrome and neon buildings on Earth.

The lanterns and lights were off, but you could already imagine the sight of them illuminating the city. One thing you did note was how everyone walked on the stairs and avoided the smooth stone. Wasn't that one reserved for royalty or rather the Archons? Best that you avoid it too.

Unable to read the signs you took to spying the wares to see if the stores have what you need. Camping supplies like a tent, sleeping bag (the closest thing was a sleeping mat and a blanket), travel-sized hygiene tools, a lantern that holds a candle and a multi tool. Were the first things on your list.

You couldn't stay in hotels or get lucky enough like you did to stay with the Kamisatos so it's best to be prepared to sleep outside. Hotels and even motels are expensive so it's best to save money until you have a general income established.

Having a game bag was such a blessing. The shopkeepers looked surprised when you stuffed the whole tent into it but not to the point where it's absurd. The adepti inventions and the traveler seemed to have made all these things rare but not unheard of.

Another high priority was medical supplies. There was a chance that the Statue of the Seven could heal you but that could summon the respective Archon too. You didn't want to bleed to death while walking to one either. Unless you could teleport to them too...

With a good-sized medical kit, you go to the Wanmin restaurant and merely order from the outside. A good heaping of raw ingredients is added to your bag along with a cooking pot.

Second Life, the store nearby is perfect for some of the missing items like milk. The bag is timeless, so nothing ever rots or spoils. If you had something like this on Earth, you wouldn't have spent years going hungry.

You end up near Xigu Antiques and take out Beisht's scale from your bag. If you ever got low on money, then selling Beisht's scale could work. But using it as a bargaining chip or as a verification of being an oracle would be ideal.

"This scale is unlike I've ever seen. It's not only in perfect condition but it's overflowing with hydro energy. Inventors would pay around 5 million mora to power inventions using it. While jewelers like us would pay up to 2 million mora for it. Are you interested in selling it?"

You give a polite refusal before being extra careful in storing the scale. The last thing you want is its price tag going down. Only one thing left on the checklist of items you wanted to buy.

As you ran around looking for that particular shop, you slowed down near the toy seller. Granny Shan smiled at you with wrinkles crinkling as you admired the kites and toys on the bench.

"Hello young one, interested in any of the toys? The ready-made toys are all child sized but I'm open to commissions for specific toys as well."

There wasn't any point in buying anything. The money could be better spent on living expenses rather than kites or fireworks. With a well-mannered smile you're about to decline until you spot a toy design on a piece of paper.

The air in your lungs struggle to leave you as your hands gently pick up the paper to see it closer. A grey cat plushie design with black and white patches graces your eyes. Your lips are dry, and your throat feels tight.

"This design... Can I get the first finished product?"

"I would be happy to. This kind of toy must bring back some childhood memories, right?"

Granny Shan is oblivious to your inner turmoil as she writes down your name and takes the appropriate mora from you. "It'll be done in around two days. Feel free to pick up that day or the day after."

Thankfully it wasn't that expensive, and you leave the stall trying to regain your bearings. The reminder of your beloved Ashtray was sudden but bittersweet. You had a similar plushie in Earth that comforted you, maybe having one here would help you too.

After walking in a daze, you find yourself in front of a shop that was hidden away. It wasn't in the game but maybe that's because it would have been useless to note. Entering the shop, the sight of wind gliders sends you some excitement and nervousness.

Wind gliders of different designs and colors are hung around the shop as protective gear is stationed around on tables. The metallic of the middle structure of it are cold to the touch. A contradictory to the soft cotton hiding the bendable mechanics of the wings.

You're quickly attended to by an employee as they explain the functions and unique color schemes behind each glider. Some designs have monochrome colors to let the buyer color it themselves while others are bejeweled to hell and back.

The one you end up buying is a mild colored glider that suited your color scheme with gold and black mechanical parts. Hopefully you won't regret skipping on the protective gear, Teyvat would protect you from hurting yourself... right?

Who are you kidding? You didn't have a clue on how to use it. Gliding in the game and gliding in real life were two different things. Although they explained the basic of attaching it to the back of your clothes and how it'll automatically deploy at certain velocity. That didn't fix the fact that you don't have a license to use it or any actual knowledge.

There's a bookstore in Liyue right? You already needed to buy some books on camping and the in-depth flora so you can pick up a more detailed gliding instruction manual too.

Feeling a bit lost you climb the red staircases vaguely remembering that the bookstore should be above ground floor. What you end up coming across first is the Heyu Tea House where Yun Jin usually performs.

It's a lot bigger than it was shown in game. This one actually looks like it can hold her performance. A border is set around the stage as a paper is stuck to it. Getting closer you run your fingers over the words.

'Yun Jin performing in less than two hours! The final act to the opera: The Lonely Chameleon!'

Great, now you know exactly where not to be in two hours. You would undoubtably miss whatever story she would be telling as it's the last act. Why be there and potentially draw attention and embarrassment to yourself?

Continuing your journey, you end up being forced to walk past the Northland Back. Vlad, the daytime guard that you were cheering on to end up with Nadia, the night guard was a lot more intimidating in person.

You walk past quickly as the memories of meeting Childe, learning the truth of Zhongli and stealing the chest inside the bank enter your mind. It was years ago that you did that quest, but it felt nostalgic with you walking past it like this.

Confusion is clear on your face as you look across the staircase and see the bookstore much farther than you thought. Slapping your hand lightly on your face you audibly groan at the realization.

You climbed the wrong staircase.

After backtracking, getting a little more lost and finally climbing what you think is the right staircase you are greeted by the bookshelves. A sigh of relief leaves you as your fingers trail against the spines of the books to read the titles.

Most of these you already have in the game screen and can access anytime. An in-depth gliding book, natural Liyue flora book, and a camping book are all paid for with your mora pouch that is much lighter than when you first arrived at Liyue.

Unfortunately, you had to give up on finding a book on tracking and hunting. Seems someone had already bought the last copy.

Slowly you walk back to the area where the bridge connected to the Harbor. The sun was close to setting with the orange hue embracing the sky. Most people are already home with only a few children and the usual dogs hanging out on the bridge. Passing by the alchemy table and pond your tired thoughts begin to wander.

To think alchemy was a real thing in this world. In some ways Teyvat surpassed Earth's technology using it while they were also limited due to it. You could probably make a lot of money by inventing the most useful tools you saw on Earth. Like the creation of a bicycle or at least a tricycle was revolutionary during this era.

"I'm happy to walk ya back Yun Jin but I really can't stay."

"I understand Xinyan so thank you for escorting me back to the Heyu Tea House."

You freeze at the foot of the bridge as the faint figures of Xinyan and Yun Jin walk from the other side of the bridge. Yun Jin must have gone to watch Xinyan's performance but wasn't hers supposed to start in less than an hour?

A loud bang catches your attention as the sound of electro crystalizing is heard from the city on your left. Two geovishap hatchlings speed out of somewhere from the city as Keqing chases them. The hatchlings circle around Keqing as she continuesly dodges their attacks.

"Everyone be careful! Please keep a clear distance from this area for your own safety!"

Watching in surprise you stand at the foot of the bridge as the kids and dogs get closer to you. Seems Beidou wasn't kidding when she said that the monsters and Ley lines were acting strange. The game has had monsters get close to the cities but never inside it.

As Keqing continues to block and attack the hatchlings, Xinyan and Yun Jin get to the halfway point of the bridge. Heavy footsteps of multiple guards can be heard from the direction Keqing came from.

The geovishap hatchlings startle at the vibrations and curl back into balls moving in a fast pace toward the bridge. The same bridge that you were in front of!

Urgently you're about to move out the way when the children hold onto your clothes in fear. Combine that with the two dogs blocking your feet, moving out of the way was impossible.

Did you have enough time to get your sickle out of your bag? Was there anything else you can use?! The hatchlings speed up as Keqing notices your predicament and rushes over. You can already tell that even if she used her skill, she wouldn't make it in time.

Trembling the kids close their eyes and bury their heads into your clothing. The dogs bark and growl at the approaching hatchlings. Gritting your teeth, you close your eyes and hold your arms out in some form of defense.

The rough rocks of the hatchling scrape your hand and you swing your arm to the side from the pain. The hatchling makes a pitiful whimper as it's pushed back by the sickle appearing in your hands.

In surprise you examine the sickle in your hands. Did you really get the ability to sheathe and unsheathe your weapon without manually holding it? It's quite late seeing as you could have used this during Beisht's battle but better late than never.

Did the creatures really not recognize you as the creator?

Your blood from the scrape drips down your hand and hits the ground. You could tell that something changed within the geovishap hatchlings... The one that scratched your hand started to spin around in circles for seemingly no reason.

The second hatchling lunged at the first one with teeth and claws barred out. It pins the first one to the ground and brutally stabs it as it bites chunks of rock out of its skin.

Everyone around stops at the scene and watches it in horrific disbelief. The blood splatters all over the floor and the smell of copper invades your nose. The bloody barely moving corpse of the hatchling starts to weakly crawl to you.

The kids shriek and the dogs whine as the chipped bloody geo claw reaches toward you. Unlike how threatening it felt earlier, the sight of it trying so desperately to reach you had grief swelling up inside.

The second hatchling with bloody rocks and crimson flowing out of its jaw follows it as it's club like tail raises. The tail is slammed down onto the it's victim with no remorse repeatedly. As the rocky exterior is beaten away blood flies off the body.

Your body takes the brunt of the splashing blood as you cannot stop staring at the corpse. By the time the tail is lifted off the body, all that's left is a bloody pulp of rock, scales and flesh.

Everything is silent for a moment as the sole Geo hatchling looks up at you. It seems happy? Maybe even proud of what it did. It rips off the gold horn from the corpse and places it at your feet.

You stare down at the item as you shakily pick it up. It's still warm. Whether from the blood or the newly deceased creature, you aren't sure.

The background seems to blur as you stare at it. The children running to their parents, Keqing yelling out orders, Yun Jin and Xinyan trying to get past without attracting the attention of the hatchling. All of it fades away.

What caused this situation to happen? They didn't recognize you until your blood dribbled out. Teyvat was calling strong creatures to protect you so maybe the weaker ones hadn't got the message yet? Should you be mad at the hatchling that stands at your feet looking at you with adoration?

If a person did this, you would be appalled. But nature was never kind and Teyvat had its own laws. Even if you did kill the geo hatchling for murdering its brethren, it wouldn't stop anything. They aren't like humans who can understand your words and worries. Besides the hatchling didn't do it in your name like the acolytes' sacrificial events, it did it to protect you...

You snap back into attention as Keqing teleports using her skill above the hatchling. It curls up and rolls around you to escape using the bridge. The faint trail of blood in its wake is only mildly off-putting compared to earlier.

In its hurry it slams into Yun Jin's chest. Her clothing is smeared with blood, and it rips from the rocky scales. She stumbles back with a pained cry as Xinyan growls and summons her weapon.

"Get away from her!" Xinyan barely misses the hatchling as it digs under the ground and reappears behind them. Xinyan is about to give chase, but you grab her arm in a haste.

"Just leave it be, there's more important things to worry about! Yun Jin's show is starting in less than an hour."

Yun Jin stands up from the ground and the damage had already been done. Her hair was a mess, her makeup was smudged, and her clothes were torn with a blood smear.

"Oh no, oh dear. I was supposed to perform in these clothes, I had no costume prepared. If I go back now, they'll be so caught up in fixing me that the show will be ruined."

Yun Jin's despair quickly captures Xinyan's attention, and you glance at the geovishap hatchling that flees the area. Some of the Millelith guards are about to give chase but Keqing stops them.

"I think we still have a chance to fix things." Your voice has a glimmer of hope as you take in Yun Jin's appearance. "I don't know how to do your hair, but I have experience in makeup and clothing. If we all work together, we could get it fixed up in time."

"Is that really a possibility?"

"Don't give up hope Yun Jin! Y/N is right, if we go somewhere and fix it up, you might make it! You know I can help with all that stuff too."

Yun Jin smiles feeling a bit better with Xinyan and your reassurance. Before you can start looking around for somewhere to work on it Keqing walks up to your group.

"Hello, I wanted to come over to amend the situation that I could have prevented if not for my own lack of skills. Situations like these may not be under the Yuheng's responsibility but as a member of the Liyue Qixing who was here, I should have been able to stop the geovishap hatchlings.

As much as I would like to properly introduce myself, it's best that I cut to the chase. Yun Jin, you are performing soon, and your friends want to help you fix it correct? I'll pay a room for you in the Yanshang Teahouse and have someone bring over any material you might need."

This was a real lucky break, but Keqing keeps glancing at you, as if she knows or wants something. Everyone saw how the hatchling presented the horn to you, hopefully she's not suspecting you to be behind the Geo hatchlings attack.

Xinyan and Yun Jin are quick to agree as you all hurry to the teahouse. The hostess that you remember being really bitchy before Yelan took over was pleasant at the sight of the very popular vision holders. You ignore the side-eye she gives you as you all pile into a room.

Xinyan is creating a list of necassary materials to remedy Yun Jin's situation with Keqing as you clear the table of all the decorations. The whole next 10 minutes is a blur. The only thing you focus on is cleaning the blood from her outfit and repairing the holes as Yun Jin sits in front of a mirror in some spare clothes. Xinyan is focused on redoing the hairstyle.

Keqing only stopped to drop off the supplies before leaving for work. She didn't ask you anything but the way she stared at you whenever she thought you weren't looking says otherwise. Knowing your luck, Ningguang will have heard of this too. And being in the teahouse that Yelan owns? Yeah, you're screwed.

Deciding to push it to the back of your mind, you focus on the dress in your hands that's almost done being repaired. You were no professional sewer, you just had so much practice in sewing your clothes that this came easily to you. Same with your make-up skills, your job on Earth required you to constantly change faces. So, your make-up skills were more in the contouring section. Always used to obscure your features rather than enhance them.

The dress looks brand-new as you examine it closely for any signs of imperfection. Satisfied at your job you stand up and go over to the duo. They've been chatting about how the Heyu Tea House owner would react to Yun Jin arriving so close to the beginning of the opera.

"Sorry to interrupt but I finished fixing your dress. Do you want me to help you with your make-up or are you all good?"

Yun Jin jumps at your appearance and nearly drops the brush she was using.

"Thank you so much!... Y/N? I'm so sorry I never even got to properly introduce myself to you and you were still kind enough to help me. Is there any way I can repay you for all you've done for me?"

You smile gently at the formal woman as she stresses out over her lack of manners. What a perfect opportunity served on a silver platter.

"Please don't worry about that. You're a friend of Xinyan's right? I came on the Alcor with Xinyan, and I was more than happy to help. The situation earlier left everyone quite frazzled. I really don't need anything as repayment. I just hope you can make it to your show in time."

Yun Jin only looks more regretful at your generous wish. Xinyan finishes her hair and scoots back as she grabs the hat. She takes the sewing needle you were using earlier and begins to repair the hanging tassels.

"Don't feel bad Yun Jin, Y/N is a good person! I never got to tell you in detail how the trip with the Crux went this time but after your show I can tell you all about it. Ya know that oracle I mentioned before? Y/N is that oracle!"

Careful not to mess up her hair, you begin applying the red eyeshadow as Yun Jin puts on the light red tinted lipstick. "Is that really true? I'm not doubting you, it's just incredible to hear."

"Yes, to put it simply I tend to resemble the creator due to the powers I'm granted. One of the major ones is how I can connect with the creatures of this world." Your downcast eyes make Yun Jin send you a worried look.

"Is something wrong Y/N?"

"It's just that I think the geovishap hatchling may have sensed the creator's presence on me and instead of attacking me like they do to the awakened acolytes, it reacted weirdly. I think the Yuheng may be under the belief that I did something to make them react like that."

You finish applying it and lean away from Yun Jin. The girls share a look with each other and begin reassuring you that there's no way you would get in trouble. It's when you hear a particular sentence from Yun Jin that your pursed lips curl into a grateful smile.

"I have a performance that requires me to speak with Keqing tomorrow, I can explain your oracle status and clear up any misunderstandings that may have arisen."

"I would be so thankful for that Yun Jin! You would really be my hero."

Calling her a hero makes her pale cheeks heat up a little as she stands up.

"Think nothing of it Y/N. Now I believe everything is repaired and ready. I'll change and meet you outside as soon as I possibly can."

Smiling happily, you wave with Xinyan and leave to the entrance of the Teahouse. Xinyan pats you on the back with an ecstatic smile.

"We might be able to arrive on time, we really couldn't have done it without you Y/N. If you have time, would ya like to watch her show with me? The final act usually has a quick recap and the story in this one is pretty simple."

Xinyan looks at you with expectant eyes as you remember her telling Yun Jin that she wouldn't be able to attend. What made her change her mind?

"That sounds like fun! I've never seen an opera before, would I need to buy tickets?"

"Don't worry about that! Yun Jin always has private tickets for anyone she wants to personally invite. I don't usually go since I've never been too fond of opera, but I want to support Yun Jin. It would be a lot more fun with you."

Yun Jin comes out at that exact moment looking nearly identical to her pre-attacked appearance. Xinyan keeps her fingers to her lips signaling to keep your agreement a secret. You nod back to her; it was nice seeing them get along so well.

Getting there at the last second, the troupe calls her over in a hurry. Yun Jin can only briefly wave goodbye before disappearing behind the topaz curtain.

The Heyu Tea House was packed to say the least. Fighting through the people, you and Xinyan managed to find a seat close enough that Yun Jin would notice you both immediately.

Eyes stare at your table or rather at Xinyan. You had only gotten this seat because they moved away in fear without either of you doing anything. Not that you were complaining, if they wanted to be chicken then that's on them.

If only they stopped glaring at Xinyan for simply existing. Now doesn't that bring up memories of your own childhood. No one really liked being saddled with the orphan kid.

Xinyan doesn't even react and only smiles when the curtain pulls away to reveal a few backup dancers and Yun Jin posing. Her voice rings out in Chinese as they start dancing and performing in harmony.

You don't miss how her eyes light up at the sight of you and Xinyan watching from the table. A separate narrator begins to recap the previous acts.

"A chameleon with no one and nothing left. What a pitiful existence. Yet it strives for some meaning or person to live for, it works tirelessly each day. Changing its colors, it's position and its soul for that singular purpose. Taken advantage by each animal requesting a color. At long last it's used every color and been rejected by each one. So now it's left to wonder; what color was its true color?"

Each animal that had taken advantage of the chameleon appears in costume around Yun Jin. The lanterns dim as the moon starts to rise setting a perfect backdrop.

The singing slows down as Yun Jin speaks mournfully.

"Not a single color keeps them with me. No matter how hard I try to blend in, to be accepted it is but a lost cause. Should I find my original color and live all alone? Or should I give one last ditch effort?"

Colored lights and decorations spin around Yun Jin at her last line. When it's pulled away her hat had changed to a multicolored fan of hairpins. A long robe covered her dress with flags in each color stood proud fanning out from behind her.

Her singing is high-pitched and melancholic. All the other animal performers crowd around her as she sings. After each verse she belts out and poses, they briefly stop and bow to her.

You couldn't understand what was being said but judging by their actions, it seemed the animals finally accepted the chameleon due to the rainbow of colors.

A last long note as the animals pose in various positions around her until only the moon shines down on Yun Jin. She looks up at the moon as she starts her speech with an empty voice that rises with emotion.

"I am loved, adored, and nearly worshipped so why am I as lonely as before? If the only difference between the me before and the me now is the color, I display then is my color the only reason they love me? Is this the life I want? Is this the love I desire!?"

The drums beat and the music rings louder. The animal performers move away in a fast pace as Yun Jin tears off each flag. The animals scramble to pick each colored flag and hold it out to Yun Jin but she ignores them. Instead, she grabs the hairpin on her head and tears it off.

The animals run around her in a dance as longer flags that cover the sight of her fly around. When she's revealed she's back in her normal clothes and a single dagger lies in her grasp.

"If that is the only way I will ever be loved then this life of mine is as useless as my colors."

With a single motion the dagger is 'stabbed' into her heart, and she falls backwards with the animal performers catching her. They gently set her 'dead' body on the ground and mourn her. The curtains close and the audience erupts into cheers.

You clap and smile as the curtains open and the performers bow with Yun Jin in the front. For reasons unknown to you, the play had shaken your heart like an earthquake to a fragile little house.

Xinyan excitedly congratulates Yun Jin as you compliment her as well. Cotten in your ears make what they're saying muffled. Smiling you say your goodbyes and leave them. The ghost of Xinyan's hand reaching for your shoulder is ignored.

Instead you focus on what matters, your identity and living situation. Yun Jin already agreed to clear up the situation with Keqing, the horn given to you was safely in your bag, your job with the Guild was confirmed, and you avoided any high-profile acolytes that you're wary of.

Hopefully Yelan will never investigate you seeing as you stayed at the Yansheng Teahouse.

Out of curiosity you check the price of a week at a small motel. You promptly leave after they tell you it would cost 210,000 mora for a single week. If you paid that, you'd be fresh out of money by the end of the month. Things were expensive since it's Liyue but that was just too much.

You make your way to the bridge where the whole geovishap hatchling murder happened. Sleeping in the tent you bought is the much smarter and better financial decision... Even if it was the more dangerous one.

Not a single soul is around as you cross the bridge. The grass crunches under your shoes as the uneven stone makes your footsteps ring out in the night air. It turns into a dirt path and the city lights fade from how far you've gone.

Lighting the candle in your lantern you hold it out in front of you as you continue walking. The path splits and you stay on the right side due to the faint lanterns that are hung around that direction.

Cobblestone patio on the left and two huge identical stone statues on the right can be seen as you stand in the middle. The spot of dirt you choose to camp out on the patio gives you a perfect view of the statues. The mist flower and what you think is an adepti machine goes ignored.

It's been a quite a few years since you've ever had to put up a tent. But the survival skills come back to you quickly. With the tent set up and a small campfire going, you set a pot over it.

Swiftly you open the game screen and find the needed recipes for any simple food to make. The matsutake potatoes and meat are put into the pot and you turn your head to grab a plate. You aren't surprised to see it already done when you turn back.

You gobble down most of the matsutake meat rolls and stop when the bushes on your left begin to shake. Freezing mid-bite, you stare at the bush intently. When something begins to tumble out of it you jump to your feet and summon your sickle.

An unfortunately familiar bronze creature unravels itself from its ball and stares at you innocently. That damn geovishap hatchling has appeared again.

Sighing you flop back onto the ground with no fear. It may not have crimson liquid staining its body, but the smell of copper was still strong. There was no way it's not the hatchling you met in the city.

It creeps closer to you with every passing second. You can see the marks from Keqing's sword and electro cover its bedrock body. Taking pity on the poor hatchling, it's still a baby after all, you pat the spot beside you.

With a happy growl it sits next to you, and you give it the last of the meat rolls. Happy noises escape it as it carefully takes the food from your hands and eats it. That seems to have completely softened the reptile as it snuggles into your side.

Despite what it did earlier, your heart melts like wax under the sun, and you pet its head. You scold it in a faint voice.

"You shouldn't go into the city, it's dangerous. Now that your friend is gone, it'll be easier for you to get hurt. Stay close with your family so that you don't get hurt."

It's eyes close and it whimpers. It may not understand your words, but the main message seemed to have resonated with it. Your hand brushes against one of its injuries and it flinches.

Should you use some of the ointment from your medical kit to help it? With purpose you drag your finger lightly over its cuts and scraped areas. The wounds begin to glow gold and you close your eyes from the brightness.

Once it dims you open them to see the injuries healed.

Being the creator is one thing, but being the equivalent of a Statue of the Seven to the creatures is another. You're basically capable of healing everything but yourself!

The brief annoyance fades into fondness as the hatchlings springs up and rolls around in happiness. A sudden wave of exhaustion hits you making you groan and struggle to stand up.

You put out the fire and crawl into the tent, the bed is welcomed after such an exhausting day. The rough ground beneath the thin bedding and cold air nipping your skin brings back memories of the years you spent sleeping in alleyways and parks.

Maybe comparing yourself to a Statue of a Seven was more accurate than you thought. As the creator you shouldn't be this exhausted after healing minor wounds. So, it would make sense that you would need to practice or gain more power through touching the Statues of the Seven in order to heal more without getting exhausted.

Your train of thoughts slow down as sleep overtakes you. The faint thudding of the hatchling outside makes you feel somewhat safe. Is this life something you'll truly get used to? Or will you end up giving up like the chameleon?

And it's done! Now that Y/N has some freedom, I can start implemeting certain game ascepts. And if I don't enter specific ones then I probably forgot so feel free to comment any that you would want to see! This chapter was supposed to be just a nice day of touring Liyue and the geovishap hatchling was supposed to be annoying/cute and progress the plot. But damn did it get darker. I do want to say that Kazuha's last line wasn't him removing himself from his obsession. Kazuha is a very self-reflective character and all that he's gone through has added to that. I originally was going to have the opera nameless and just a quick description less show, but I had fun writing one that would fit with the plot. Welp time to finish 100% the Summer event! Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling

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