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#its easier that way. to just say 'pirates life' and move on before someone can leave you. better to hide than be pushed aside.
pigeonwit · 5 months
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we the people seriously need to consider a pirates of the caribbean javetherine au
#davey as a blacksmith whos been pining for heiress katherine for years#but has always resigned himself to his status and passively accepts it just cant be#and then pirate jack comes swinging into his life and makes him realize he can be more than just a life spent in the background#katherine as an heiress who knows she could be so much more but everyone keeps telling her no#and she doesnt believe it! she doesnt! she CAN be more! ... but god its exhausting to be the only one believing in herself.#and then in the wake of a pirate attack shes helped by the blacksmiths apprentice who always seemed to just hide himself in the background#and he refuses to let her feel even slightly guilty about what happened.#and then in comes this ABSURD pirate who sees her fire and shows her to throw a punch. tie a knot. wield a sword.#he listens to what she says. he takes her advice and she takes his.#and she finally feels like she has people who believe in her. who SEE her.#and jack as a pirate whos always been deternined to be alone. to live as his image and not himself.#its easier that way. to just say 'pirates life' and move on before someone can leave you. better to hide than be pushed aside.#and now here are these two annoyingly insistent city kids who keep acting like jacks worth keeping#and it's everything. but he knows it cant last. it cant. (he really wants it to last)#i mean really what are pirates if not sea cowboys#newsies#davey jacobs#david jacobs#katherine plumber#katherine pulitzer#jack kelly#javetherine#fic thoughts
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swampstew · 1 year
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Trafalgar Law's Yellow Submarine Prison
Oh shiiit its Yandere time! The Surgeon of Death has taken an interest in you, he hopes you're worth the effort. Law is a Diva.
WC: 611 CW: Spicy; not-gender specific reader; Yandere Trafalgar Law; kidnapping reader; consent/non con/dubious consent and maybe Stockholm syndrome?; murder and unhealthy relationship dynamics; reader is either prisoner or willing captive.
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Law is honestly pretty annoyed at first. He knows he’s been taking his time with trying to find the One Piece, but he really didn’t need you as a distraction. Well, he wouldn’t be able to just leave you there now that he knows you exist. Can’t bear the idea of anyone else trying to get close to you, flirt with you, to…to kiss you! NOPE. Not on his watch, not on HIS New (Unsuspecting) Partner. He calls out to you and makes conversation with you, “oh you’re going that direction? I’ll walk with you.” Next thing you know, you’re by the pier and he holds out his hand, “room!”
You suddenly land in a very confined space. “Welcome to the Polar Tang,” he leers at you. It takes Bepo restraining you before you calm down. You were scrappier than he imagined and he was riled up. He lays it all out for you as Bepo soothes you from the anxiety attack and adrenaline rush. Apparently, the Surgeon of Death is in love with you and has decided to make you his no. 1 and you don’t get a say, also welcome to your new home; the submarine was already moving and you are officially a kidnappee, but uh try not to focus on that too much.
Law keeps pretty busy for someone who can appear so lazy and lax. For the first two weeks you mostly interact with his crew and learn more about Law through them than you do by the pirate captain himself. When you finally have more than an hour together where he’s not rushing off to scheme and plan, you’re less afraid of him than you were on day one but you’re still wary. This is fine for Law, he knew that you’d have an easier time adjusting to your position if you understood how things worked around here from the fairly decent people that made up his crew. Bepo always by your side to offer you comfort when you feel overwhelmed. Now that you’re face to face, you ask him two questions. Can you ever go back home? Will he ever hurt you? “No. No promises.”
Now that that’s out of the way – Law hopes you’ll sleep with him immediately; he’s been alone for a while and is touch starved. You decide to go the path of least resistance and he decides then and there that he’ll move heaven and earth for you. You’ll want for nothing as long as you stay loyal to him and his ambitions. Law will take care of you and shit he might even be willing to give his life for you if he had to. But that’s only for a good partner. Brats get a different version of him. Brats will be bent to his will. He doesn’t have time for his quest and to babysit your stubborn ass. He might humor you for a month or two at best, but if you don’t fall in line, he’ll start working on ways to make you compliant. You will not like all of them.
Is jealousy an issue? Yes without a doubt. Don’t ever invite trouble to find you, don’t wear anything too scandalous to invite pervs. Doesn’t matter if you didn’t do anything except exist – if someone makes a pass at you, you’re both getting his wrath. Law will crush the offender’s heart in his hands and you will be made to beg for his forgiveness. He also holds grudges worse than a Latin mother. You’re in for a lot of groveling, begging, and acts of service to get back in his good graces.
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naranjapetrificada · 1 year
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This is going to be long so the short version is this:
I convinced my therapist to watch the 🌟Gay Pirate Show🌟 and now I have to confront a previously unidentified and terrifyingly deep emotional wound that could be as transformative to heal as it is terrifying to approach.
My therapist and I have a lot of let's say...demographic things in common that have made this the most successful therapeutic relationship I've ever had, but also that just made me think he might like the show. It's no secret that ofmd has been a deeply moving experience for its viewers, and queer, neurodivergent, and/or people of color have written at length about the special ways it touches us (or doesn't). Those are three categories both he and I fit into and it feels relevant to say that for context.
So yes I thought he might like it, but I also wanted to pick his brain about Big Feelings it was giving me that I hadn't experienced with the same intensity with other media/fandoms. Y'all, he gave me a completely unexpected reading on the show (and its story and its fan works) and why it makes us feel So Much that I haven't seen anywhere before.
When I say Big Feelings, I mean like I've literally had to swear off a couple of pretty innocuous categories on AO3 ("Growing Old Together" and "Domestic Fluff") because they would devastate me in ways that I couldn't attribute to anything specific. Growing Old Together comes with the possibility of death separating them, which is heartbreaking, but that didn't feel like it was the thing that was gutting me. Domestic Fluff could probably be called the most innocuous tag ever, but anything that saw our blorbos settling down and watching the Revenge sail off into the distance was fucking me up as well.
There are plenty of reasons why OFMD makes queer people feel so much, but when I say this was fucking me up I mean like, well, remember when people outside of classical music started learning about appoggiatura? Like intellectually knowing why I was crying but at a loss how intense everything felt. And my therapist (who is as good at analyzing a text as he is at being a therapist) was like "oh, it could be all the grief."
The grief.
The audacity of this motherfucker (affectionate).
It's a romcom! It's a romcom that we were explicitly told would have a happy ending! It's a romcom where the characters will get to sail off into the sunset together like they want and like we want for them! Stede and Ed, after four decades of self-hatred and trauma and fear and isolation, somehow find each other. And one of the sweetest things about their story is that it's a late in life love story, because it's incredibly inspiring for someone to get to experience a part of life they thought wasn't for them. The inescapable fact that their time together will be shorter than any of us would like is sad but not unaccountably sad to me, because of how much joy they'll be able to cram into the time they have left. I could be wrong but I don't think that alone is the source of what's been overwhelming me.
Grief is a constant presence in the world-building and the storytelling because grief is a natural response to well, so many things about being alive. Grieving is some of the hardest shit any of us ever have to do, but it's also so universal and so many of the things that make us uniquely human also make grieving well, maybe not easier, but something we can endure and process through ritual, community, and the example of those we've witnessed grieving their own losses. Many kinds of grief come with narratives that you can accept or reject all or parts of, but the narrative exists.
But have you ever heard of disenfranchised loss? Loss that's not easily labeled or classified or given the time or space or understanding it deserves? Have you experienced a loss like that? Can you imagine how much more difficult it makes the grieving process?
Well what my therapist suggested, the thing that knocked me on my ass hard enough that I had to come have Online Feelings about it, is that eventually, we all have to mourn ourselves. Not necessarily in a "mortality is inevitable" way (that happens to everyone) but in ways that are often unique to people like him and me (black, ND, queer). Even if we work on ourselves, if we grow and heal our trauma and feel at home in our identities and our bodies and build beautiful lives, eventually we will be forced to mourn the selves that we never got to be in the societies in which we live and the selves we once had to become to survive this long.
And that mourning is a kind of disenfranchised loss, with no clear path forward. Obviously this conversation happened within the context of everything my therapist knows about me as an individual, but I thought certain things might resonate with other fans as well so I wanted to talk about it. The story of this bizarre little man and his remarkable second act and his lovely little found family and his incredibly beautiful love story (that we've been guaranteed will end happily) is still haunted by the specific kind of grief that comes from learning what's possible, and regretting that you didn't know it was possible sooner.
And does anybody have more delayed milestones, later-in-life discoveries, and/or need to invent places for themselves than those of us on the social fringes? Than those of us in societies unequipped for (or actively hostile to) the ways we exist and the things we need to survive and thrive? Than those of us who have to create our own narratives or be saddled with inaccurate or harmful narratives created by others, or even no narrative at all?
And narrative is so much. Narrative is everything. Narrative is the story we tell ourselves and each other and that literally shapes our reality. So those story beats where we discover something better than what came before are inherently stories with loss and will require mourning, because we mourn loss.
Even when the story has a happy ending. Especially when the story has a happy ending for someone who never thought they would be allowed to have one.
I mean just like, FUCKING HELL. I can't blame anyone for this but myself. I know my therapist. I know how insightful he can be. I did this to myself and now I have to live with it. But my god is it a massive mountain I'm about to have to climb now. My therapist and I have always found it helpful to discuss media that makes me Feel Things (see all the trauma work that came from Life is Strange) but if you had told me that I'd be looking into this new dark cave of unprocessed shit thanks to what I thought was just gonna be a harmless little gay pirate show starring fucking Murray from Flight of the Concords I would probably just have assumed you were in the middle of having a stroke and taken off to get you the medical attention you desperately needed.
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imaginepirates · 3 years
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Pirate
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For the anon who wanted a James x reader where they meet on the Pearl, but James doesn’t have the guts to admit that he’s falling for them. Later, (we’re pretending his death didn’t happen), they meet again at Shipwreck Cove, and James confesses his feelings during the battle on the Dutchman.
@emdrabbles​ @tesserphantom​ @paljonkaikenlaista​ @viper-official​  @hellspawn-brownies​ @groovyfluxie​ @wordsinwinters​
~3760 words. Long again. 
~~~~~~~
           His hair hung in wet strings around his face. Whether they were matted together with water, alcohol, or vomit, you weren’t sure you wanted to know, though you suspected it to be a mixture of all three. A guard rail was all that kept him upright. He was a disaster, even for a pirate. Not that he’s a pirate, either.
          The former Commodore looked a wreck. You would be, too, you supposed, if you’d drunk yourself into complete oblivion. And someone needs to take away that damned wig. Currently, it sat on his head much like some bird’s nest, and you half-expected a gull to land in it at any moment. Pity mingled with your disgust. There had been a time when his name alone had struck fear into you. Now, he was a pathetic image, unable to do so much as hold himself up on two feet. He couldn’t strike fear into a fly.
          You were a bit surprised that Elizabeth, of all people, showed him no sympathy. Even Jack looked a bit repulsed, which was saying something, given that Jack himself was never in a prime state. He staggered upright, puking over the side of a railing.
          You sighed, walking brisky over, snatching the wig off the top of his head and tossing it overboard. He looked up at you through bleary eyes.
          “What the bloody hell was that for?”
          “You look awful.”
          “Thank you for your astute assessment.” Even drunk, his tone dripped sarcasm, and you were a little surprised.
          He’s still in his wits, then. You looked him over again. Somewhat. “You look marginally less awful without the wig.” He grunted. You grabbed the bottle he was holding, too, and threw it over the side.
          “Now that’s just a waste.”
          “You need to sober up.”
          “And who exactly are you, that it’s your job to police me?”
          “You’re embarrassing, is all, and it’s no good to be embarrassed by crewmates.”
          He snorted. “You should write to the admiralty. That sort of thinking would have spared me many of my own crewmates throughout the years.” He stared down into the waves, where his water-clogged wig had begun to sink under the surface.
          “Well, you don’t want to be that person, do you?”
          “At this point, I don’t particularly care.” His wig finally lost the battle, disappearing into the murky depths.
          “Have some pride.”
          “Pride?” He pushed himself up, looking coldly into your eyes with his own. “I’ve lost my title, I’ve lost my station, I’ve lost my livelihood. I have no house, nor family, nor friends. I’ve lost everything I ever held dear, including the woman I love, because despite being with her,” here he gestured with his chin to where Elizabeth stood at the helm, “I’m further from her than ever before. Now please, tell me again why I should have pride.”
          If you were being honest with yourself, it was hard to give him an answer. “You still have your life, and for however little that’s worth right now, things could be worse. You could be dead. Take pride in the fact that you didn’t let things get that far.” He scoffed, but you continued. “Go clean yourself up; splash some water on your face, and do something about the vomit in your hair. Things can get better. Clean up, and you’ll be one step closer.”
          He looked at you then, a vulnerability in his eye that wasn’t there before. Hope. He stalked off then, stumbling a bit, but trying admirably to, supposedly, follow your advice.
          Norrington carried out his tasks admirably and without complaint, no manner how demeaning for a man of his previous station. He was watched with suspicious eye; but why wouldn’t he be? He had been a ranking officer, after all, and an effective one at that. Too many pirates had been lost to his scouring of the Caribbean. Just how far can you trust a member of the navy, former or otherwise?
          The way he looked at Jack’s compass didn’t escape your notice. He knows. “Not thinking of stealing it, are you?” His neck craned to look up at you from his position kneeling on the deck, a wet cloth in hand. He stopped his scrubbing to glare.
          “I’m not a thief.” He looked back down, returning to his task.
          “You are a pirate.”
          His head whipped up at that, jaw working in annoyance. “I’m not a bloody pirate,” he hissed.
          “Then what the hell are you doing here? Top secret mission? I’m surprised you were chosen; I wouldn’t believe your fall from grace if I weren’t here to see it myself.”
          Norrington was showing clear restraint, obviously wanting to hit you with something. You watched him breifly consider using the wash-rag as a projectile before deciding against it.
          “Commodore Norrington. That was a name to fear, once.”
          The ferocity in his eyes vanished, replaced by sadness, his gaze dropping from yours. “I haven’t been that man in months. I never will be again.”
          “Good.” He shot you a questioning look. “It’s no use to be afraid of you. And, if what I hear from Elizabeth is true, you might learn to have some fun and not be so stiff all the time.” Offence flashes across his face, but you only smiled. “I blame high society. Welcome to freedom, James Norrington. I hope you get a taste for it.”
          He turned to look out over the steadily changing horizon, a soft pink beginning to dust the sky. “So do I.”
          The days wore on, and the crew steadily adjusted to James’ presence. He no longer ate alone, though he ate in silence, and the crew was more willing to interact with him. Elizabeth, you noted, had barely paid him any mind since his arrival. How she could be so callous towards him you didn’t know; you had expected her to at least talk to him, but she barely even looked his way.
          Not that he didn’t look hers. His gaze would fall upon her, sometimes, while he worked, and there was a sadness there that tugged at your heart. He was confused, too, as to her treatment of him. He wanted, more than anything, to be close to her. Even if she could treat him like a friend. But she refused to give him even that much.
          You were tired of watching it. “Come on,” you walked up to him, “let’s do something about that hair.”
          “You haven’t grown tired of telling me what to do, have you?” he drawled. He was propped against a railing, eyes following Elizabeth as she walked across the deck above them. With Jack, you noted. So, it seemed, did James.
          You sighed. “It can only get in the way, hanging down by your face like that.” You turned away, heading down belowdecks. He needs to get away from watching her.
          James followed, pushing off the railing and heading after you. Good. You found a spot with a few barrels—full of apples, you assumed; you never had gotten rid of all of Barbossa’s cargo—that would be suitable for sitting on. You motioned for James to do just that, moving behind him.
          You found yourself at a loss for words. What was there to say? You had little in common, and less that wouldn’t bring back poor memories for him. You kept silent, instead running your fingers through James’ hair. It’s longer than I expected, for a naval man. I wonder if he always kept it like this, or if it was close-cropped, once.
          “What exactly are you doing?” He turned his head a little to look back at you.
          “Braiding.” You separated his hair into three parts, beginning to twine the strands together.
          You expected him to ask you why, or to move away, but he stayed put. “I haven’t worn my hair in a braid since the navy.” It was almost a whisper. Somehow, in the low light of the hull, it seemed appropriate.
          You almost pulled away and apologized, but he went on. “I used to braid it to fit it under that damned wig. It could get so insufferably hot in the sun, though I was always glad to have the hair off the back of my neck. I don’t know how Elizabeth ever managed, in those dresses.” A soft smile sat on his face. “How did any of us manage, back then?”
          You knew he wasn’t speaking of the heat. You tied his hair off with a small strip of ribbon from around your wrist. It was interesting, to see something of yours on him, and you stared at it a moment before moving. “You’ve always kept your hair this long, then?” You moved to a barrel across from him.
          “For years. My mother hated it.” He smiled. “She told me it would be easier if I just cut it off.”
          “Good thing you didn’t.” He looked at you curiously, and you felt yourself beginning to flush. “It suits you.”
          His eyebrows raised in surprise. Even in the dim light of the lanterns, you could see his cheeks turn pink, the color extending down into his collar. You sat in awkward silence a moment, James fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves while you looked down at the black deck. “A name to fear, you said.”
          James was still toying with the cuff on his left wrist when you looked back up. “I think I like you this way better.”
          “I’m not sure I do.”
          You got up, moving to a barrel next to his. “I’d rather not fear you.” You grabbed his hand, taking it gently away from its fiddling. He scanned your eyes. “Like most people, you aren’t as terrifying as the stories make you sound.”
          “I never thought of it that way.”
          “That you struck fear, even into the best of us?”
          “I…” he trailed off. “It seems so ridiculous, that anyone feared me. I know I was good at my job—it was all I was good for.” He scoffed. “But I was so out of place in society…I always felt horribly awkward at all those social events. I was much more afraid of those people than they were of me.”
          “You were like…” you wracked your brain for a parallel. “You were told stories about Blackbeard when you were a child, right?”
          “Yes, of course. Upon reflection, I’m sure they were too dramatic to be true.”
          “That’s how you were to us. You were a reverse Blackbeard.” James laughed aloud at that. “I can’t even tell you how I pictured you. Larger, maybe. Older. And with a horrible, mean beard that took up half your face.”
          James smiled, and you found you quite liked the expression on him. “Am I as scary as the stories?”
          “Not even close. Though I’m sure I wouldn’t want to meet the business end of your sword,” you added.
          “Is Blackbeard as frightening as the tales?” James questioned. Then, more seriously, “Is Davy Jones?”
          You sobered. “Aye, he is.” You found that his hand was still in yours—he hadn’t pulled away. “But it’s mixed with disgust. He isn’t human, anymore. It can be revulting. And sad,” you said, upon reflection. “I can’t imagine; losing your humanity like that.”
          James said nothing, his eyes on your entertwined fingers. He ran his thumb over your knuckles. “Why do you talk to me?”
          You shrugged. “There’s no reason not to.”
          “That doesn’t seem to be the common belief.” He continued to rub gentle circles in the top of your hand. His fingers were calloused from years of hard work, but so were yours. He traced over your knuckles and each finger in turn. His brows furrowed. “It’s pity, isn’t it?”
          You could see how disgusted he was with himself. “Some, yes,” you admitted. “But you’re not half-bad to be around. This was…nice. I haven’t had a quiet moment with someone in ages.”
          He looked at you thoughtfully, using his free hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re not half-bad either, for a pirate.”
          You smiled, and he looked like he might say something more, but he stayed quiet, a soft smile of his own gracing his features. When he left, you knew he was in a better mood than when he came. I wonder if I’ll occupy any of the space in his thoughts that Elizabeth does. It was a silly thought, and you didn’t quite know why it came to mind, but there was a ghostly touch where James had brushed your hair aside, and you realized that you liked the idea of his thinking about you. Wishing for the attention of a naval man. Who would’ve thought?
~~~~~~~
          The news about Isla de Muerta came hard. You had been anxious the entire time, confined to the Pearl on the account that Davy Jones could make an appearance, and the ship would need to be crewed if he did.
          You weren’t prepared for the eventuality that James wouldn’t come back. You had worried, of course, wringing your hands with it, but you hadn’t actually thought…
          You kept your tears for him to yourself. Nobody else was bothered—not even Elizabeth. A man she’s known her entire life, dead, and she has no sorrow to show for it. How can she be so heartless? It was as if nothing had happened at all. The crew ignored it; they were used to that, you supposed. Half your number had been killed by cannibles, after all. But even Gibbs seemed unbothered by the prospect of James’ death.
          Only later did you realize that James had taken the heart. You didn’t believe it, at first, but slowly came to reconcile yourself with the idea. Elizabeth thought him a traitor. But was he ever really on our side? You thought back to your conversations with him. I like you this way better. It had been true. I’m not sure I do. That was true, too, and now he’d shown it.
          At first, none of it mattered to you. He was dead, anyway. Slowly, you began to realize that Jones didn’t have the heart. After all, he hadn’t quit pursuing the Pearl, even if you didn’t have the heart. When you learned that the heart was in possession of Cutler Beckett, damn his eyes, your heart leapt with joy. James is alive! No matter the mood of Jack, or Gibbs, or Elizabeth, or the crew, you could only think of James. He wasn’t killed, then. He used the heart as leverage to secure his old position.
          You pondered the thought. If ever you met him again, would you be afraid? Or would you just be sad?
~~~~~~~
          Shipwreck Cove was just as you’d remembered it. Dimly lit, ships stacked one on the other, whispered conspiracies in every corner. Every sailor’s legend had its place in these ships. There wasn’t a legend that hadn’t been speculated within the fortress, and not a pirate who hadn’t chased them without.
          You had fond memories of the Cove, but less fond memories of the Court. The Brethren Court convened on only the deepest of issues, and you still remembered some of their gatherings from when you were a child. It was loud, and there was no order, and the Court couldn’t meet without at least one death per session.
          It was that way now. Jack toyed with the swords stuck in the globe at the front of the room while the other pirate lords surrendered the miscellaneous junk they deemed their pieces of eight. The end result was a dish full of random trinkets. Not that you didn’t understand; the idea that pirates obtained mass amounts of wealth was a myth. Most of the time, you barely had a shilling to your name. Working with Jack was especially non-lucrative, but it was certainly more entertaining.
          Jack’s hand strayed briefly to the piece of eight at his temple. “Might I point out that we are still short one pirate lord and I’m as content as a cucumber to wait until Sao Feng joins us.”
          “Sao Feng is dead.”
          You recognized that voice. You whipped around to see Elizabeth, clad in full Chinese armor, sword in hand. You smiled to yourself; she was always full of surprises.
          The best surprise, however, was the man standing at her side. You mouthed James’ name, and his eyes locked on yours. He stepped forward, as if to greet you, but you were interrupted by further discussion of the Court. He’s alive, and he’s here, and I never thought I would see him again. You glanced over your shoulder. And he’s in full uniform.
          The Court was chaos. Barbossa’s plan to free Calypso was not taken well by the others, and you couldn’t blame them. Your mind was preoccupied, focussing on the man somewhere behind you. You wondered if he had seen the relief in your eyes. Had he felt the same?
          A hand settled on your shoulder. You turned to see James, worried eyes staring into your own. He pulled you back, leading you out of the room.
          “James?” You felt your eyes beginning to water. “For the longest time, I thought you had died.” Your voice cracked, and you were unable to stop it.
          He opened his mouth as if to say something, but only reached out to you, pulling you into a firm embrace. “I’m so sorry.” His breath tickled your ear. “I’ve done horrible things.”
          You held tightly to the back of his coat. “I’m just happy to see you again.”
          He stepped back, pain blossoming across his features. “I know you can never forgive me, for what I’ve done. I can only hope you-”
          The doors behind you opened, and the Court flooded out. The consensus is war, then.
~~~~~~~
          The rain made it hard for you to keep a good grip on your sword. The Dutchman pitched and rolled under your feet, waves crashing rougly into the sides of the hull. Its mast, tangled with the Pearl’s, loomed above you, a towering dark figure in the haze of the monsoon.
          These damned fish people. The Dutchman’s crew fought more viscously than even Barbossa’s undead pirates. Who knew starfish could be so angry? You feared that their weapons, often tarnished and jagged, would catch on your own and leave you defenseless. I should’ve stayed on the Pearl. But there are fish people there now, too.
          At least you weren’t alone. Elizabeth and Will were with you, as was Jack, though he seemed to be having difficulties of his own. If you hadn’t been fighting for your life, you might have been more amused. You had lost sight of most of your crew mates. You were too focused on the eel-headed freak in front of you to give your fellows much thought. With your swords locked, you had no other way to grapple with the beast. It hadn’t occurred to you that the eel could elongate its neck, which was exactly what it did, arching forward to bite at your face.
          A moment later, the head lay at your feet, the slimy body collapsing beside it. James was there, sword in hand, looking at you with concern. That, or he’s squinting to keep the rain out of his eyes. You gave him a nod, stepping in closer.
          “There are too many of them. We’ll never get to them all. Some of them are coming right out of the walls!” You both looked around yourselves at the endless numbers in the Dutchman’s crew.
          “We only have to kill one.” James gestured towards the other end of the ship, where Davy Jones stood, lobster claw digging into the wood of the deck.
          “We don’t have the heart.”
          “But we both know who does.” James’ face was grim. “I should’ve stabbed it while I had the chance.”
          You grabbed his arm. “No. You would be just like Jones, then, bound to this ship for eternity. You’d have no humanity left.”
          “I’d be better than I am now.”
          The comment broke your heart, but there were too many enemies around for you to focus on it. You slashed at a shark-headed monstrosity before James pulled you in close, stabbing something just behind you. Now isn’t the time for blushing. But James was holding you tightly to his chest, and you heard him shoot another member of Jones’ crew.
          You hated to let go, but you had to duck under James’ arm to go after another, and another. Your back ended up pressed against James’, and you could feel each others’ heavy breathing.
          “I don’t think we’re going to make it out of this alive.” You had to shout to be heard over the thunderous racket. Between the rain, the gunfire, and the sharp clanging of swords, there was little room for words.
          “It doesn’t seem likely.”
          “You were trying to tell me something earlier.” Rain ran down your face in streams. “Now might be your only chance.”
          James put a hand on your shoulder, turning you around to face him. “I wanted to apologize, for it all. I hope you’ll accept it.”
          “Of course.” You grabbed the pistol from his side, leveling it at a creature behind his shoulder.
          “You didn’t deserve what I did.”
          You cupped his face with a hand. “I understand why you did it.”
          “You were the only one who treated me like a person, then, on the Pearl.” He had grabbed your arm, keeping you close. It occurred to you that you were both going to die like this, paying too much attention to each other and not enough to your surroundings. “I can’t…” James took a steadying breath. “I can’t help but love you for it.”
          You barely had time to process the words before his lips were on yours. Despite the storm, and the gunfire, and the clanging of swords—despite the knowledge that neither of you were going to make it out alive—the kiss was achingly tender, with so much softness and vulnerability that tears began to slip down your already soaked cheeks.
          This won’t be such a bad way to go.
          There was a sudden shuddering of the ship, and you and James had to cling to each other to keep upright. You looked up, only to find that the Pearl had broken away, her masts now untangled from the Dutchman’s.
          You tugged at James’ arm. “We have to go. I think the ship’s going under.”
          He nodded, and you found a loose line to swing over to the Pearl. The Dutchman sank not long after you hit the deck. The ship fell beneath the waves, sucked under by the storm.
          “We still have to face Beckett.” James looked out over the water to where the British armada was advancing.
          You could already feel some of the fight leaving you. How could you withstand an armada, when you’d barely defeated the Dutchman? “At least we have each other, now.”
          James looked down at you. “Yes.” He cautiously wrapped an arm around your waist. “And after? If there is an after.”
          You smiled teasingly. “I hope you don’t mind returning to piracy.”
          James smiled back. “I don’t think I’ll mind at all.”
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stressisakiller · 3 years
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As You Wish
Steve Rogers x Reader Soulmate AU
(As you wish Part 2)
Summary: What happens when after moving into Stark Tower you run into a certain Captain
Warnings: None really, fluff, like one cussword a little bit of spice
Word Count: 2.4k
A/N: Fluffy chapter yay!  Let me know what you think and if you have any requests for future chapters! Thank yall for reading!’
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Life working side by side with Tony was dangerous. When Killian attacked Tony it was you not Pepper who was taken and subjected to the Extremis serum. This caused you to heal crazy fast and gave you super strength, which was pretty cool but not very useful for someone who spent most of their time in a robotics lab trying not to crush something when it wasn't working.
You later discovered that Killian mistakenly believed that you were in fact Tony's soulmate, while you had always thought that it was Pepper. She quickly refuted your claim when you told her, pulling the back of her jeans down enough to show the smiley face that graced her butt cheek. Turns out that her soulmate was none other than Happy the head of security.
 About six months after the battle of new york, after Tony and the whole Killian/Mandarin situation, Tony asked very nicely if you would move into the Avengers tower with him. He needed to get the Avengers tower going, and after everything that happened and his panic attacks, he really didn't want to live there alone. He was also hoping that if you lived in the tower that the avengers would be more willing to as well. By this point you had met and become friends with most of them save for Captain America, he hasn’t been around much. He was trying to find his place in this new world and taking as many missions as Shield will give him in order to feel needed 
The tower was much different this time than the last time you had been there. There was less plastic film and dust everywhere and all of the construction work was done. Most notably, the wall on Stark's living room floor was no longer a gaping hole.
The top eight levels of the tower were for the avengers. The penthouse was where Tony stayed, no surprise there. The level directly below was his lab space which was restricted access for the most part and then there was the common level under that. The common level was composed of a large kitchen and dining area, as well as a massive living room with the biggest tv you had ever seen. This floor also houses a theater, and an arcade room equipped with pool tables and any other game you could think of. Tony is such a child sometimes, not that you were complaining you loved to play pool. The next three floors are where you and the rest of the Avengers would live. You would each get your own suite that you could arrange and decorate however you saw fit. Each suite includes a kitchenette, and small living room that was separate from the bedroom, and a massive ensuite bath. The lowest two levels were dedicated to the training room and medical ward, as well as a giant pool and sauna area, these floors allowed for outside access as long as they were vetted.
Six months later, life in the tower was going well. You, Tony and Bruce, were the main people living there. You could understand that though, Nat and Clint were constantly out on missions for shield and mainly stayed on base in DC. Tony told you that Steve was currently living in an apartment in DC. He didn't want to live on base but he was running missions for Shield on and off. Thor was off-world with Loki so life was pretty quiet. 
 Then there was a mission that the Captain went on that didn’t go the way he thought. He was wounded and brought back a captive. You were in the common area when the door was thrown open and a bloody Steve Rogers burst through carrying a soaking wet girl over his shoulder.
“The Medical wing, where is it?” He questioned voice hard from pain or fatigue or both. 
“This way.” you hurried off, not looking behind you, you knew that he would follow. 
When you arrived, you called for Dr. Cho and Steve told her what was going on and placed the girl on a stretcher. The nurses pushed her to a room to monitor her until she woke up. He was then shown to a separate room to be looked over and have the bullet removed. 
 That night Tony pulled you into the living room to watch your favorite movie, the princess bride. It was about halfway through when an exhausted Steve came through the door and flopped down on the couch beside the one that you and Tony were currently lounging on. It was coming to your favorite part, Buttercup was currently yelling at the Dread Pirate Roberts and about to push him down the hill.
“Oooh,” you said hitting Tony’s shoulder, “I love this part,” you spoke along with Wesley as he rolled down the hill, “As you Wiiiisssshhhh.” you clapped your hands together, “that will forever be the best reveal ever.” 
You didn’t notice Steve’s stare as you said those words. Holy Shit he thought his tattoo finally made sense, and yet the girl that fate said was perfect for him had her legs thrown over Tony’s lap and was leaning against him while watching the movie. He stood quickly and stomped out of the room, today was just not his day. 
 You look over at Tony confused when Steve left.
“What the hell do you think that was about?” you asked, growing more confused as you noticed the smirk on Tony’s lips.
“Why are you smiling like that?” You had to stop yourself from slapping him when he started to laugh.
“What the hell, Stark, tell me what's going on?”
“I think that Capsicle just realized that you're his soulmate.” He said through chuckles.
“What the fuck do you mean he realized that I’m his soulmate?” you asked your whole body going still as you waited for him to elaborate.
“I thought you had realized this earlier,” he said looked genuinely confused, “The captain is your soulmate, I’ve known since we had that movie night after finding him in the ice. Your tattoo is his dog tags with the flower of his birth month and a phrase that I’ve heard him say multiple times while next to him in a fight.”
You just sat there frozen trying to comprehend what exactly the man sitting in front of you was saying. 
“You know, he may be a little jealous that his soulmate was cuddling someone else since he probably doesn’t realize that you're like a sister to me. You should probably go after him.”  His words seemed to break you from your trance as you threw yourself very clumsily from the couch to follow after him.
“Jarvis, where did Rogers go?” 
“He is in the training room miss.”
“Thanks, J”
You ran all the way down, opening the door you were met by the scene of Steve hitting a punching bag so hard that it broke and flew off of its chain.
“You know, I’m not sure that those are made to withstand the punch of a super soldier, maybe I should design one that can,” you said leaning against the wall and trying not to show the fact that your heart was beating a million miles a minute.
“And why would you feel the need to do that, I���m sure Stark has plenty of things that he needs you to design that are more important than a Steve-proof punching bag.” You could tell that he was gritting his teeth as he spoke, reaching for another bag. You step towards him slowly, making sure not to walk too quickly from fear of him leaving.
“Well I’m sure that the great Tony Stark can take care of himself, and anyways, I think creating something to make my soulmate's life easier is more important.”
He slowly pulled his eyes from the punching bag that he was hanging onto the hook to look at you, pain obvious in his eyes.
“Really? Cause you seemed pretty comfortable with him.” you could see the vulnerability in his eyes as he spoke, he had gone through so much already.
“Yes really, Tony is more like an annoying older brother than anything. I’ve been working around him for the past five or so years, trust me when I say that I have no desire to date him. You on the other hand.” You made sure that your voice turned teasing on the last words, you wanted to make him smile, you hadn’t gotten to see that yet.
“Well good, cause I think I may have to kick his ass if you did.” You could hear the teasing lilt in his voice and the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. But as quickly as it came it was gone.
“How long have you known?” his voice cracked a little as he spoke. You let out a small huff of a laugh.
“Would you believe me if I told you that Tony had to tell me when I was confused as to why you left the room?” His eyes snapped to yours.
“Really? You didn’t know?”
“After not meeting my soulmate by the time I turned 25 I just pushed it to the back of my mind, I stopped trying to figure out what my tattoo meant and I focused on my work. Plus there were a couple of life-threatening instances that distracted me." You joked. You weren't 100% sure how to handle this situation, your main friend group consisted of a playboy philanthropist and a science nerd that turned into a giant green guy when angry, not really the best people to show you how to be vulnerable.
“I understand that," he said pausing before continuing, "part of my problem was that my tattoo didn’t show up until after I came out of the ice.” he looked down at his hands and you noticed that they were fidgeting, he must be just as nervous as you.
“I didn’t know that,” you murmured, deciding to ask the question that was begging to be asked.
“What is your tattoo, if you don’t mind me asking?”
He shook his head, “Not at all.” he stepped towards you and pulled up his sleeve, and turned out his arm so you could see the flesh just under his armpit. As soon as you saw the tattoo you burst out laughing.
“Of course that’s what my mark is, man I’m such a nerd.” You clutched your stomach as you laughed, tears coming to your eyes from the range of emotions that you are currently going through.
“Can I ask why I have this tattooed on me?” He questioned, clearly curious to the reasoning as to why he had a movie quote on his arm forever. You were finally able to pull yourself together and sober up from the surprise of his tattoo.
“That movie came out the year after I was born and it was my mom’s favorite movie to watch with me, we watched it at least 4 times a year. But we always made sure to watch it on my birthday as a family, it became an integral part of my life, plus it’s just sooo quotable.” you said with a smile, “Do you want to look at my tattoo?” you asked motioning at your arm with your head. He slowly nodded, not able to find the words.
You slowly pulled your sleeve up, showing him the inside of your forearm and the dog tags that graced your skin. He stepped forward gently taking your arm in his hand so that he could study the markings on your skin. Tracing the outline and the words that he could see before smiling.
“What does it mean?” you asked softly looking at him through your lashes.
“It’s um,” he cleared his throat, “it’s my dog tags or at least the lower one is, it says my name, then Captain America and the city I was born in, Brooklyn. The top one however is something that I always seem to say when I’m getting beat up in a fight in order to remind myself that I could do it. And the flower… I think it’s the flower from my birth month? I was born in July so I think it’s a reference to that.” You nodded at his explanation, his fingers still gently tracing over your skin, causing goosebumps to pop up from the feeling.
“So, would you like to watch the movie with me? We can start it over so that you won’t be lost. I know that you struggle with pop culture, old man.” You smirked at him as you spoke, he just rolled his eyes.
“Be careful, this old man could still show you a thing or two.”
You laughed out loud at that, your laugh changed to a squeal when you felt him wrap his arms around your legs and throw you over his shoulder. 
“Ahh, let me down!!” you beat at his shoulders trying to get him to release you but he wouldn’t budge, he just continued to carry you until you ended back in the living room and he threw you down onto the couch. He wasn’t even breathing hard after carrying you up 2 flights of stairs, jerk. 
Tony was nowhere to been seen as you restarted the movie. You ran and grabbed some more popcorn to share, pouring in some M&Ms before plopping back down next to Steve and pulling on your couch blanket. It didn't take long for you to cuddle into his side and for your eyes to droop. 
Steve smiled at you when he realized that you had passed out before you even got to the part he had walked in on earlier. He didn't mind though, he just got comfortable and pulled you in closer before allowing himself to relax and fall asleep. 
Tagged Users: @writerwrites
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I Know You - Rafe Adler x Reader - Part One
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So this idea kind of came to me randomly, it doesn't follow the story of Uncharted 4/the lives of the characters/specifics but the general story of treasure etc is the same! I changed a lot to make it easier to write a shorter story so...please don't hate me for changing it/pushing parts of the game closer together!
Reader descriptions: I don't describe anything about the reader look wise obviously but I have written this in a female readers POV!
Warnings: None for this chapter!
You walked behind Nate and Sam, following their footsteps as you all moved through the jungle path. The heavily tree covered path helped against the brightness of the sun but did little to keep you from the humid heat. You found yourself regularly swatting away bugs and wiping your brow as you moved forward.
Nate was convinced you were close to your destination, that Libertalia, the famous pirate utopia was just around the next bend. It bloody better be, you thought as you swatted away another bug.
"Nate! Please tell me we're almost there!" Sam cried, chopping away at branches blocking their path.
"Yes, we're almost there I'm sure of it!! Hopefully we'll make it there before Rafe" You tripped a little at the mention of Rafe, you'd been trying hard not to think about encountering them again. God why did Rafe have to do this? Why did he have to break away from you all and go against you? You just kept letting the memories between you flash up as you walked.
_____________________________________________________________
You walked quicker, hoping you weren't going to be late. The campus here was bigger than you thought and your archaeology class was the other side of the building to where you lived in your apartment.
The hallway was quiet as you counted the numbers of the classroom doors before finally landing at the door you needed, taking a breath before you entered. Thankfully your professor wasn't there yet, other students chatting.
"You were almost late" You turned to see Rafe, his cocky smile tugging into place as he looked at you.
"Almost being the key word there" You smiled and grabbed the seat beside him, thankful that no one had snatched it up first. You and Rafe had been friends since the first day of your classes, but you knew other girls wanted to get his attention. You hated admitting it at first but you loved that he only ever gave his attention to you.
"Mmmhmm, yeah you keep on using your almost excuse, what held you up anyway?"
"I woke up late" Rafe snorted a laugh at your reply, turning his full attention to you.
"Give in, it'll be easier on all of us. You know I'm relentless" You sighed and turned to him.
"I was reading"
"For the assingment?"
"Yes" You didn't meet Rafe's eyes, turning away quickly you stayed still as he moved closer to you.
"Liar" He whispered in your ear, you gave him your best side eye in response. "Come on what trashy novel do you have tucked under your bed? You know I'll find it either way. Oh! Let me guess, kind of Indiana Jones-y, but with an oh so steamy encounter between the main characters in some dusty ruin" You rolled your eyes but couldn't hold back you smile, damn him!
"Your wrong....this one is set in Egypt, their steamy encounter took place is a very plush tent near a tomb" Rafe's laugh was infectious, his head falling into his hands as he tried to stop himself from laughing.
"Okay okay whatever" He said between giggles. "Just let me know when you're ready to put those books down and get some real action hmm?" Your professor walked into the lecture hall, grabbing everyone's attention and thankfully pulling Rafe away from noticing you blush.
_____________________________________________________________
You hated thinking of those memories now, knowing you were both on opposite sides, fighting against each other.
"There it is" You came to a halt, almost crashing into Sam as all three of you stared at the scene before you. Libertalia.
The pirate town was in ruins, old building covered in foliage. But the pure sight of it took your breath away. To imagine this place, full of pirates, bustling life, songs and laughter, loot and gambling. Your heart felt full.
"Alright let's get to the treasury" It's higher up towards the mountain.
It took almost two hours of walking, climbing, searching until you finally saw the treasury. Pulling yourself up onto the roof of a crumbling but stable building you took a moment to look at your goal. Was this where the treasure has been all this time?
Nate and Sam were climbing up behind you, you turned ready to continue before stopping. You could hear people talking. All three of you crouched down quickly, your hands automatically going for your gun.
"These fucking guys" Sam whispered. "Well, here we go"
You jumped down from the roof onto a ledge, working your way around half broken walls, stacks of warped barrels, anything to avoid Nadine's and Rafe's men.
"We can get inside without them seeing" Nate whispered.
"They've set up camp!" Sam said back. "We won't be safe camping here too, and the sun's almost down" He was right, the sun was setting fast. You could see the camp they were setting up in the main courtyard of the treasury building, the men moving debris from battles fought many years ago so that they could put up tents.
Your eyes caught movement near the back, towards the entrance. A tent was being put up right near the doors. Rafe stood by as two men secured what you guessed was hit tent, slightly further away from everyone else's.
"Rafe's there" You whispered, your stomach was doing flips knowing that not only was he there, but once again you were face to face on different teams. This whole adventure had felt wrong, always running into them and fighting with the man you knew deep down you loved.
"Alright, we can climb in higher up, set up our own camp in that part of the building there, they won't bother looking there, it isn't the main entrance. Hopefully its just a run down set of rooms"
You'd all agreed, although Sam complained the whole way up to the floor Nate pointed out. He was right though, the space was perfect, hidden, dry, warm anyway from the weather and if you leant near to a broken wall you could see Rafe's camp.
It didn't take long for Sam and Nate to fall asleep, the two brothers sprawled on the ground, packs behind their heads as pillows. But you couldn't sleep, not when Rafe was this close, you charted a way down to his tent, planning which route you would take to avoid the men on watch. It was risky but you knew Rafe wouldn't be sharing a tent and his tent was far enough from the rest that you'd be able to talk to him, maybe convince him that he didn't need to fight against you. Maybe if you could get close he would... be the old Rafe.
Taking a deep breath you got up as silently as possible and made your way down. Thoughts of what you would say to Rafe raced through your mind. Would he want to see you? Would he just take you and use you as bait? No, you refused to believe that, he'd told you once how he felt, that can't have just vanished. The memory of that night was still so clear to you.
_____________________________________________________________
"Okay okay, so Chinese?" Rafe dropped down onto your couch, looking at you impatiently.
"Fine" You smiled, knowing that if you changed your mind again Rafe may just cry from hunger.
"Finally!" Rafe pulled out his phone to order as you looked over your notes. You had to admit, you worked well as a team. Your assignments already finished and onto the proofing stage. "The horror...it won't be here for 40 minutes"
You turned to Rafe who had flopped back dramatically against the back of the couch. "Poor baby, to think you have to wait 40 minutes for someone else to cook you food"
"Don't mock me, my hunger is very real" He leant back up, pushing himself nearer to you on the couch and leaning over to look at the notes himself. You should be used to Rafe being this close to you, he was always close. Most people assumed you were a couple because of how close you were and how much time you spent together. But you couldn't stop the blush and heat that ran through you whenever he moved close. You looked over his face, his brows tilted down as he focused on the words, his hair usually neatly slicked back had rogue hairs falling down over his forehead.
God he was attractive. Your eyes went lower, to his arms, his muscles poking out from his t-shirt that really left nothing to the imagination.
"Admiring my fashion choices?" You jumped and your eyes snapped back up to Rafe who was looking at you, a smirk plastered on his face.
"No! I was...I..."
"You...?" He was so close, if you moved your head forward just a little your noses would brush against each other. You could smell his cologne, a musky woody scent that you loved. He didn't move away, his eyes flicking from yours to you lips.
He moved too quickly for you to think, suddenly his lips were on yours, pushing gently. You didn't need to think twice before reacting a melting into the kiss, your hands coming up to touch his neck, pulling him closer. His arms moved around you, a hand resting on your side as he moved into you, pushing you against the arm of the couch. There was no where for you to move and you were so okay with that.
The kiss grew hotter, more needy, hands were everywhere, pulling and pushing. Your fingers ran through his hair, messing it up even more. A faint moan escaped his lips when you tugged it slightly. You both pulled apart, but still close, Rafe rested his forehead against yours as you both caught your breath a little.
Rafe smiled and huffed out a laugh. "I've wanted to do that for so long"
"You have?"
"I thought I'd made my feelings pretty obvious" He quickly kissed you again. "You have completely ruined me, I don't think I'll ever be able to love anyone else"
_____________________________________________________________
You were still caught up in old memories by the time your feet lightly touched the ground behind Rafe's tent. You stayed in the shadows listening, wanting to make sure he was alone. A few moments passed before you decided it was safe and made your way to the flaps, they were tied closed but you made quick and silent work of undoing just enough of them to squeeze in.
The tent was dark, you had to wait for your eyes to adjust fully before moving and looking around. The tent was simple, Rafe's belongings piled in one corner, an empty cot in the other. Empty.
You stood still, heart racing as you realized the cot was empty. You tried to move but suddenly a hand wrapped around your mouth, your legs knock from under you. Your back hit the ground with a thud and you felt a knife pressed against you. Rafe leaned over you.
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silver-tongued-bby · 3 years
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You're Mine, Chapter 6
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You’re the CEO of a groundbreaking drug company in Sweden with a work/life balance that’s more work than anything else. That is before you meet Loki, who turns your world on its head in the best of ways.
Set during the first Avengers movie. This work contains explicit content and BDSM.
Pairing: Dom!Loki x Sub!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, BDSM, Smut, Dirty talk
Word Count: 3,372
You awoke to beams of sunlight streaming through the window. Turning to your side you found Loki’s long form stretched out beside you, lounging lazily with a book. He set it down to smile at you. “Good morning, älskling.”
You shivered at the timbre of his voice, smiling back at him. “‘Morning,” you stared down at the book resting on his thigh, an eyebrow raised. “The Hitchiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?” You read the title while trying, but failing to hold back a laugh.
“What?” He frowned, looking down at you with the slightest trace of a smile playing at his lips. “He’s got a lot of it right.”
Your eyes widened and you gripped his arm. “Is it the part about the dolphins?”
He rolled his eyes. “Yes,” he smiled down at you. “Definitely the dolphins.”
“How long have you been up? Wait do you even need sleep?” You furrowed your brow, settling your body closer to his. You brought your fingertips up to draw small circles over his bare chest.
“It’s not a necessity. I can go long periods without sleeping. Lately I’ve found myself reading in the evenings more than anything else,” he brought his hand over to lightly trace your arm with his fingers.
You hummed lightly at the sensation, your eyes closing briefly.
“We should go get some breakfast, älskling.” You opened your eyes to find his tender gaze studying you. “I have a few things in mind for today. You’ll need your strength,” his voice turned sinful as he continued to stroke your skin. It all sent a tremble through you, your thighs clenching.
His eyes traced over your features, a light smile at his lips. The effect he had on you was growing and the little smirk he looked down at you with told you he enjoyed every second of it.
“Breakfast,” he reminded you, sighing as he got up from the bed.
“Right,” you said as you sat up, “breakfast.”
He brought you to a small cafe nearby, with a picturesque view of the water. The conversation between the two of you flowed easily. Considering he was a thousand-year old god he had a lot to say about the current state of global politics.
“I should probably stop by my house this morning- would you like to come?” You asked, toying with the handle of your coffee mug between your fingers.
“Of course,” he nodded, his eyebrow raised. “What I have planned doesn’t require a specific location, though we may appreciate some privacy.” The velvet in his voice returned and you swallowed.
Settling up at the cafe he walked you to the underground garage of his building, back to the lot with the gleaming vehicles.
“Which one, älskling?” He asked, motioning to the cars in front of him, parked beside the Mercedes he brought to dinner last night.
“Oh,” you took a step back to look at the four cars he motioned to. “Are these all yours?” You asked, turning to him.
He nodded, hands behind his back as he watched you admire each vehicle.
“I think we’ve got to go with the jag,” you said, pointing to the deep green Jaguar in front of you.
“Excellent choice,” he mused then helped you slide in to the passenger side.
You jumped when he materialised in the driver’s seat, “Jesus Christ!”
He chuckled, “wrong god, älskling.” Turning to look at you, “I’m sorry, I’ve been holding back my powers around you though I’d like to stop that now.”
Your heart raced as you remembered what you’d thought you saw last night on the drive home. “What else can you do with them- with your powers?”
He brought his hand up under your chin, looking you evenly in the eyes. “Be a good girl and you’ll find out.”
You bit your lip and nodded, “yes, Sir.”
He gave you a chaste kiss before turning the car on and pulling out of the lot. The drive passed quickly, it was rare to see a large crowd on the roads on a Sunday.
Loki pulled the car up to your empty house and parked it out front. He helped you up the icy steps to the front door, unlocking it the two of you stepped inside.
“Your home is lovely,” he said as you removed your coats and slipped them in the closet.
“Thank you,” you smiled, “I’m really happy with it. My work can really take its toll on me, but I’ve always found peace here.” You led him through the warm wooden corridors, giving him a quick tour of everything as you went. He complimented your design decisions as well as some of the art you’d purchased over the years.
It was rare for you to have someone over who didn’t work for you in some capacity but you enjoyed showing him around, letting him in on the parts of your life rarely seen by others.
You were happy though you had to acknowledge the small part of you that worried about the day he’d need to return to his former life, leaving you behind. You chastised yourself for thinking that, it was best to enjoy your time with him while you had it.
You hadn’t realised that you’d stopped in the kitchen as you mulled over your thoughts, growing quiet as you contemplated things.
“Älskling,” Loki had turned away from the large window overlooking the frosty water, snapping you out of your thoughts. He came to you, gently holding your face as he looked in your eyes. “Where did you go just then?” He spoke tenderly, his eyes searching yours.
“I-“ you felt your cheeks grow hot. “It’s silly,” you looked down and bit your lip. You took a deep breath and looked back into his eyes, “you’re the first person I’ve really let in since I’ve been here- not just to my home but to my life. I’m so happy to have met you. I’m just trying not to get my expectations out of line with the reality of our situation.”
His brow furrowed. “And what’s that?”
“You’re an alien, a thousand year old god,” you laughed. “I can’t expect you to stay here on Earth with me. You have a family on Asgard, and a life you’ll want to return to. I’m worried the more I let you in the harder it’ll be for me to let you go when the time comes.” You smiled pitifully, turning your head away.
“Oh älskling,” he said, his head tilting as his eyes held a sorry expression. He shook his head after a moment. “I won’t be going anywhere anytime soon. I have no reason to, I’m happy here. And my family-“ he stopped himself, taking a deep breath. “My family thinks I’m dead.”
“What?” You frowned, quickly running through what he told you last night mentally. He mentioned a strained relationship, but not that he’d faked his own death.
He let go of you, turning to face the window once more. “I tried to follow the right path to make my father- my family proud. But it all got turned around when I discovered my true nature.” He laughed bitterly. “I quickly learnt that no matter what I did I’d always be the outsider. My father would never accept me as he did my brother. He’d never let me rule,” he frowned. “That was difficult for me to face,” he took a deep breath. “So, I let myself fall off the Bifrost and into open space. I ended up passing through Yggdrasil- what you’d call a wormhole.”
There was silence as you digested his words, your heart in your throat. You stepped to him, gently taking a hold of his arm. “Oh Loki,” you looked up at him. “I’m so sorry.”
He chuckled, his eyes wet. “I couldn’t stand it-“ he turned his head, his expression pained. “I figured it’d be easier if I were out of the picture.”
You brought your hand up to brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear, your heart heavy.
Taking another deep breath he continued. “I was picked up by a ravager ship,” seeing your expression he explained further, “think space pirates. I made a deal with them to deliver me here- to Midgard. I’ve been here ever since.”
“And how long has that been?” You asked gently.
“A year or so,” he shook his head. “I haven’t told anyone that before.”
“Thank you for telling me,” you brought your hands up around his neck and gave him a hug. “That’s a lot to go through, let alone survive.”
“I wouldn’t do it again given the chance,” he pulled away from you to look in your eyes. “But being away from my family, from Asgard has been good for me. I’d like to stay here,” he gently traced your bottom lip with his thumb. “I’d like to explore this more- what’s between us.”
You smiled, feeling most of your prior apprehension melt away and pulled him in for a gentle kiss. “Me too,” you breathed against his lips. His arms snaked around your waist to bring you closer as he pulled you in for a deeper kiss.
Everything about him made you tremble- his scent, his firm body against yours, the way his hands strongly gripped your waist, the way he kissed you- be it gentle, hard or in-between. You found yourself gasping into his mouth, your core growing wet as he wrapped himself around you, overwhelming you in every sense of the word.
He moved from your lips momentarily, his breath heavy with your own. “Bedroom?”
You nodded and pulled away with a shaky breath in, turning to lead him down the hall. The lights came on, revealing the simplistic design of your bedroom. You turned to him, surprised to find him close behind you. He came closer, his lips almost against yours as he stared into your eyes. He brought his hand to your hip to guide you backwards towards your bed, his gaze turning predatory.
Your calves hit the end of your bed and he brought his hands up to gently hold either side of your face. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he captured your lips with his once more.
After a moment he pulled away and gave you a smile, your clothes and his disappearing with a flash of green. “Much better,” he kissed your shoulder, gently sucking on the skin.
He gripped your waist and turned the two of you before pulling you down on top of him so you were straddling him on the bed. You brought your hands up to his shoulders, feeling the muscles flex. You looked down to see his length between the two of you, already painfully hard. Bringing your eyes back up to him you dipped to lightly graze his lips with your own as you repositioned yourself to be flush against him.
You felt his hard length under your wet heat, and as you nipped at his lower lip you began to move against him. He felt so fucking good- sliding across your folds with ease with help from your excitement.
You moaned, everything about him driving you so close to the edge already. He was firmly gripping your ass, guiding you along his cock.
“That’s it, älskling. Take what you need from me,” you whimpered at the sound of his voice, the timbre of it sending heat throughout you.
He looked up at you with dark eyes as he bent to kiss your nipple, pulling the sensitive flesh into his mouth. You moaned, throwing your head back to further push yourself against him. He dragged his teeth lightly across the sensitive bud and you looked down at him, breathing heavily while you continued to move against him.
“Please,” you breathed, looking back down as your fingers slipped through his hair. You were so close, so close to letting go but you couldn’t let yourself. You needed him to say that you could cum.
“Please what, little one?” His expression was passive as he looked up at you, an eyebrow raised.
“Please- please Sir may I cum?” You asked, your heart racing. You’d tried to slow your movements against him but he’d kept the pace using his grip on you. Every muscle in your body was clenched as you fought to keep your orgasm at bay.
“My good girl,” he smiled. “I’m so proud of you, holding on for me. You may cum älskling. Cum now.” He commanded, his teeth gritting together. You came with a cry, your hips frozen in place against his as you twitched on top of him. You relished in the feel of his hot length against you, now coated in your release. He kept his eyes on you as he kissed the skin between your breasts, holding you tight as you came back to yourself.
“As much as I love this view,” he said, gripping your waist before he rolled the two of you over. “That’s better,” he grinned down at you.
Holding himself over you he gently brushed the errant strands of hair from your face. His eyes slipped from yours to trace over your skin and your heart raced, your breath heavy. “My lovely little thing,” he brought his gaze back to yours before bringing his lips to your ear, his breath warm against the sensitive skin. He gently licked the shell of your ear then captured your lobe between his teeth, the sensation causing you to cry out sharply. He chuckled darkly against the skin of your neck, “oh älskling. I love finding new ways to make you scream.” He sucked the skin behind your ear, his words leaving you dizzy with lust.
He brought himself back up to face you, looking as if he could devour you on the spot. You bit your lip and raised your hips against him, whining as you felt his length gently brush through your folds. He grabbed your face, his long fingers firmly gripping your jaw as his hips came down on yours to hold you in place.
“You needy little thing. What happened to my good girl, hm?” He raised an eyebrow, tilting his head as he waited for an answer.
“I- I’m sorry Sir.” You stuttered, trying not to move as you felt his length press against you. “It’s just-“ you cut yourself off when you saw the warning look in his eyes.
“No excuses älskling. You take what I give you. I’ll fuck this sweet little cunt,” he moved his hand from your jaw to cup your heat, “when I decide you deserve my cock.”
You felt yourself tremble and grow even more wet with his words, and from his smug expression you could tell he felt it too.
“Is that clear, älskling?” He enunciated each word but all you could focus on was the feel of his hand over your heat, so close to where you needed it.
You nodded, looking up at him with wide eyes.
“Say it.” He commanded, his jaw strong as he looked down at you.
“I take what you give me, Sir.” You obeyed, your voice small though your heart raced.
“Good girl.” He nodded, then moved his hand from your heat, forcing you to suppress a whimper at the loss of contact. “Now,” he wore a sinful expression, “do you want me to fuck you?”
You eagerly nodded, “yes please, Sir.”
“Prove it. Beg me. Beg me to fuck you,” his voice was deep as he dared you with his eyes.
“Please fuck me, Sir. Please- I need you to fuck me. I’m yours Sir, please.” You rushed out, desperate for him to fill you, to touch you, to keep speaking to you in that raspy tone.
“Good girl,” he brought his hand to his cock and guided it through your folds, gathering wetness and forcing a whimper from your lips. Then he slowly entered you, bit by bit, taking his time as you willed yourself to remain still.
Once he was fully seated inside you he began to thrust, slowly at first, but building to a steady rhythm. Each thrust met a deep, sensitive spot within you that hurt in the most delicious way. Your muscles clenched each time he hit it, and you’d lost your breath to short uneven spurts of air as your pleasure built.
“Oh- oh fuck, please-“ you said, unsure of what you wanted from him other than for his unrelenting thrusts.
He brought his fingers to your mouth and you eagerly sucked them, running your tongue along the pads of his finger tips. His lips curved upwards and he withdrew them, sliding them over your nipple before pinching it between his dampened digits. Your back arched at the sharp pain, your body alight with pleasure- you were close to your finish.
“Sir- I’m close, I’m close,” you said between quick puffs of air.
“I know, älskling. I can feel it. Your tight little cunt is gripping me firmer and firmer,” he let out a breath. “Gods.”
“Please, Sir- please may I cum?” You begged, your fingertips gripping the muscles of his arms as you held on for dear life.
He nodded, “yes. My good girl, you may cum. Cum for me- I want to feel you come undone on my cock.” He rasped out and you came, the pleasure overtaking your every sense. You writhed under him as you rode out your high, and after a few thrusts you felt him twitch inside of you. He moaned as he came, his eyes still locked with yours as you both came back to yourselves.
He smoothed your hair back and gently kissed you before he pulled out, his cum trickling down your thigh. Stepping back, his eyes traced over your spent body, a smile at his lips. “Beautiful.” He said before materialising a damp cloth, handing it to you so you could clean yourself.
You smiled back at him before sitting up on the bed. “Will you come with me? I want to show you my favourite part of this house,” you said, standing up and walking over to your closet to grab a robe. He materialised himself a dark silk robe to match your own before you led him back out in the hall. You pressed on the wood panelling of the hallway, opening the concealed doorway, leading to a series of steps alit with soft light.
You looked back at him- he hesitated for a moment, curious.
You threw him a wink before turning to go down the steps, leading to the bath you’d had custom built. The room was carved out into the rock that your home was built on, smooth but cool under your feet. There was a massive tub in the middle of the room, surrounded by windows that overlooked the idyllic lake. To the side against the stone there was a steam shower as well as a sauna. This was your happy place- few had seen it, only a few close friends who came to visit every now and then.
He stepped into the room, running his fingers along the large tub of hand-carved wood before he turned around, a smile on his face as he took in the room. He chuckled, “impressive.”
“I know,” you grinned as you tapped the controls for the water to fill in the bath. You stepped over to the concealed bar to fetch a bottle of red and some cold water. Setting the bottles on the side table to the tub you retrieved some glasses and poured the wine, offering him a glass as he stepped over to you. He pulled you against him and the two of you looked over the setting sun of the lake.
The tub controls beeped shortly thereafter and you both slipped your robes off before settling into the water, your back settled into his side. He distractedly played with a strand of your hair, twisting it between his fingers. Running over the whirlwind events of your weekend you had a hard time believing this all happened in such a short time.
You sighed contentedly as you rested back against him, your eyes slipping closed.
End Note: This chapter went a little softer than I'd anticipated- next week's will explore a bit more bd/sm themes, I promise! If you'd like more Loki, check out my latest fic: Summer Wine. I'll be posting Chapter 7 of You're Mine next Sunday as well as a new Loki one-shot! Thank you as always for reading.
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just-a-real-human · 3 years
Text
Stress
(heya! this is my first story and i’m still not that good, so keep that in mind as you read ‘^^ please give any constructive critisism you can give to help me improve! i’ll write in mostly metric to make it easier on myself, let’s chalk it up to the translator being extra nice today) (extra note, i’m Dutch and English is actually my second language, so keep that in mind as well)
The classroom was filled to the brim with all kinds of aliens, from the wonderful to the weird, speaking in all their exotic languages. all the conversations differed and the translators they had really started to prove their worth! the only thing that truly stayed constant was the subject of their conversations...Humans. That was because this was a special class all about Humans, given by the head of research on humans, or ‘anthropology’ as the humans call it, an alien called Kr’kn. Kr’kn was one of the first to spend an extended amount of time in the company of humans, going on to become a famous figure in the galaxy.
After a couple minutes of this exitement in the classroom, it all suddenly went silent as two figures walked onto the speaking platform. the first being Dr. Kr’kn himself, a Molusk-like creature having some resemblance to an earth octopus, but with about 12 tentacles, 4 for locomotion, which are place under his body, giving him an upright gait and making him stand about 1.4M tall and 8 tentacles for manipulating the environment. But perhaps even more exiting, behind him followed a Human! The human followed Kr’kn closely, fidgeting with something grey in his hands. when they reached the speaking platform, The human promptly took seat in a chair next to the speaking platform, continuing to play with the thing it was holding, yet hiding it from view, looking around the room, but never looking directly at any of the students. Dr. Kr’Kn looked over the room and took a deep breath before saying.
“Humans, strange creatures aren’t they? Very, very complicated ones as well, there is much more to them then any sensory organ could perceive. They are loud, but can be almost entirely silent. They are social, but they need privacy and alone time frequently. They are tall, yet can blend with many environments, even without technology. I could go on for HOURS about the uniqueness of humans, and i probably will sometime! But not now, because over the course of these months i will teach you all i know of humans, starting not with the very basics, but the more advanced things as through (their equivalent of internet), reading and lessons you’ve learned the basics of them. So let us start with a subject not often touched on in education, stress and, unavoidably, rage.”
The students sat, watching the doctor, and occasionally the human, with wide eyes. they had indeed learned the basics of human biology. they had briefly touched on hysterical strength and subjects like that, yet they still didn’t have a very good understanding of humans, simply because nobody had. Except of course them one teaching them.
Dr Kr’kn continued. “We all know stress, most species have it. But in humans it can be especially prevalent. Stress in humans can drastically affect their mood, emotion, sexual interest, concentration and even lifespan. It can induce depression and loss of interest and a whole managerie of different effect on humans, nearly none being benificial. Often stress quickly can lead to anger, and is oftened compared to a rubber band, each thing that stresses them out tightening the band and if they are too stressed, they get angry. Humans have dubbed this stress-overload as ‘snapping’, and it can range from shouting at someone to assault and even death, both for the human and the one who made them ‘snap’.  Humans can be quite easily stressed, for instance my dear friend here gets stressed by crowds, eye contact and meeting strangers, as well as a looong list of other things. this is partially due to mental disorders, but mostly due to personal differences.”
Many of the class nervously eyed the human after he said this, the human did seem a bit uncomfortable, what if he ‘snapped’ here? This seemed to be a stressfull environment, why would he be here? Was he forced?
The Doctor looked around, noticing the nervous glances and chuckled. “No worries, my friend here is calm as can be. This actually leads very well into the next part, how do humans relieve stress? Well, there’s some ways, that you’ve probably already learnt, and seeing as that’d be a little embaressing to go over for my friend, i’ll go to the less well known ones. A very popular one, maybe even more popular then any other, is music. An immense amount of emotion can be transferred into music, ranging from happiness to sadness, even anger can be put into music! The best example of ‘angry’ music is probaly a kind of music humans dub ‘metal’. Anyone sensitive to rythms, loud noises or things like that, please cover your ears.” He said, swiping a few times on the tablet infont of him, a large hologram raising infont of them before saying once more “I repeat again, if you are sensitive to fast rythms or loud noises, please cover your ears!”
He then pressed the play button and the music started playing, and indeed, as he said, the pure rage put in that music was so overwhelming some students actually seemed afraid, as if the humans on the hologram could jump out and attack at any moment! The human accompanying Kr’kn seemed to enjoy it, moving his head up and down in the rythm of the music a little.
Dr. Kr’kn paused the music, swiping it away. “Well, i suppose you get what i mean about anger being conveyed in the music? And despite its seemingly simple nature, metal often has deep symbolism, especially compared to the simple first impression. It also happens to be one of the most difficult forms of music to play. Another good way to relieve stress for humans are video games, especially either calm and cute ones, or the most violent ones they can create!”
The class laughed a little, assuming the doctor was making a joke. As a reaction the doctor pulled up another hologram, showing the class a cute, calm game about finding many orb like creatures with (human) smiles on their faces. It seemed to be a good example of what the doctor meant.
“now, if you are bad with blood, violence or dismemberment, please look away, and if you are sensitive to rythms and loud noises, cover your ears again.”
He then pulled up a video as one specific game, one set in a red, fleshy cityscape, destroyed and overrun with the most disturbing creatures you could imagine. But worst of all, a human was running through! With more of that ‘metal’ in the background the man was running through the creatures, shooting them with ballistic weapons, energy weapons and cutting them apart! It even ripped them apart with its bare hands! Many students looked at it, horrified, some even needing to look away. Kr’kn laughed, swiping away the hologram. “that there is a favorite game among many humans, including my friend here, he is quite skilled at it, in fact, the footage there is my friend playing that game!”
The students looked at the human, terrified. Humans ENJOYED murder and destruction!? They liked such violence and that music?
Dr. Kr’kn laughed again. “Anyways, yet another way of relieving stress, or more accurately, prevent stress, is in the form of a mental support thing. Often that is an object, like in the case of my friend here! If you would please look to him, he will show what his emotional support object is.”
The human seemed a bit aprehensive before revealing the grey thing he was holding and had been playing with...it was a small, grey teddybear with a white scarf. it was clearly quite old, it was clear it used to be coloured something else then grey, but due to years of hugging and washing, it had lost it’s colour, only it’s snout being a little brighter grey with a brown nose.
“Yes, that little thing is one of the most important things in my friends life, so important, in fact, that he has once killed someone for taking it.“
The students gasped, looking at the human, who looked away a bit, now holding the bear closely, clearly regretting what happened back there, and speaking for the first time. “Not JUST for taking teddy...he was a pirate”
Kr’kn laughed, shaking his head “True, true, the fact remains that it is an incredibly important object to him, anything else and he would have waited to sneak up on him, but he instead took the pirate on without bothering to sneak, he shouted so loud the pirate was stunned for a moment before my friend here beat him with a glass and stabbed him to death with the shards! none of us would dare approach him for hours after that...well, the humans kept their distance claiming he needed time alone, but we all noticed even the humans were fearfull. He only truly calmed down when his chosen mate, or ‘girlfriend’ went to speak to him. And that brings me to the most important and effective ways for a human to relieve stress.
Kr’kn let the students stare at the human for a little bit, he knew how they must have felt, humans were terrifying when you learn such stories, and even more if you experience them!
“there are 4 most important ways for a humans to release stress. And they are: Screaming, crying, talking and love. Screaming lets them simply release all the rage in their system in a simple roar, it can be one scream or many, but they are almost always effective. Talking means to simply share their troubles with someone, be it human or not, even talking to a pet, friendly wild animal or book(by writing it down) will help them as they aren’t the only ones stuck with it anymore, and the other might be able to help in some way. And now the two most important ones, Crying and love. Crying is a strange thing, humans will leak water out of their eyes and make a repeating sound, often accompanying screaming, but even more often it is silent, and they usually cry when safe. It releases all their stress and sadness over a period of time and is a very clear way for others to see how they feel, and Love is often a result of it, or what causes it, which is good. For instance the previous story, my friend here told his Girlfriend everything, and a human often gets repetitive when telling something, which you should deal with if you truly care for them. He then simply got a hug, which is one of the most primally loving and caring things a human can do. You all know kissing is something that human mates do, but a hug can be done by any human they care about. Physical contact is important for a human, and a good hug will often make a human cry their worries away, which is an important part of bonding and caring. Now do not go about hugging humans every chance you get, it’s something special, and not every human likes it. For instance my friend is a bit sensitive, so there are few people he allows to hug him, and i just so happen to be one of them.” He said the last part with a certain pride, having his race’s version of a smile as he looked at the human.
“Anyways, this is where my job ends for today, and yours starts. I want you to write a simple list of stress-relieving things for a human, write it as accurately as you can. And even if it isn’t very accurate, as long as your tried, it’ll be good enough for me. Next time i will go over the dangers of a human and what you should do to avoid it. I hope you have a good day and enjoy your time, goodbye!”
The students wished him farewell and Kr’kn walked away, the human joining him, still holding the bear closely. The students exitedly started talking to one another, having learned many things about humans that they didn’t know before. After many minutes of conversation, they slowly started to leave, and after about an hour or so the classroom was entirely empty.
WELL! that was my first story, i hope you enjoy it! again, give your opinions and constructive critisism down there, any ideas and suggestions are welcome as well! have a nice day c:
Good news! I fixed the comments (i think). :D
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chaseatinydream · 3 years
Text
pirate king (27) || atz
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You’ve learned that Hongjoong’s determination knows no bounds.
Because a week after that terrible little fiasco, he and Yeosang have gotten straight into planning how to slip into Nassau once again.
“Are you serious?” You had asked them, leaning over the map that they’re studying as you brought their dinner to them, Seonghwa’s masterpiece, beef stew. Hongjoong takes the bowl from you gratefully and starts to shovel the food down his throat, never once looking away from his map.
It’s a map of Nassau Island, with several navigational notes to it that you don’t understand, talking about tides, depth of the ocean and what not. Yeosang is pointing out a patch of map off the eastern coast of Nassau that is painted a darker blue than the rest.
“We could drop anchor here.” Yeosang says, gesturing to it. “And have two people take a rowboat out to the beach that Chin Hae and Wooyoung swam to the last time. They could retrace their steps from there.”
Captain nods as he studies the map intently, but his brow is furrowed. “I worry about the tide, though. It should be coming in, but anything could change.”
Yeosang shrugs, taking his meal from you with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Chin Hae. We can’t really do anything about the tide, since nature itself controls it as it will, but that’s a risk Seonghwa will have to take.”
Hongjoong nods once. “It’s final. This is what we’re going to do..” The navigator gets up, rolling the maps and tidal charts up, before giving you a quick smile. “I’ll go over the plan with Seonghwa, then. See you, Chin Hae!”
His fingers grasp yours as he leaves. Ever since the two of you had brushed death hand in hand, you find his fingers have instinctively begun seeking yours. It’s cute, the two of you are almost like twins now, two people cut from the same cloth.
The door swings shut behind you, and then you and Captain are the only two people left in the cabin since the time the crew discovered you are a woman.
Your captain looks at you for a moment as he unconsciously flexes the fingers of his right hand, the one he had crushed after San had told him of Yeosang’s condition.
It occurs to you that since waking up, you haven’t apologised to him yet.
You muster up all the courage you have in you, bowing before your captain deeply.
“I’m sorry, captain.”
Hongjoong must know what you’re apologising about, because his face stiffens a little. Then it relaxes, ever so slightly as he reclines in his chair, San having healed the damage done to his back during the week you were unconscious.
He opens his mouth to speak.
“I don’t accept your apology.”
Your heart stops in your chest. He doesn’t… accept your apology? You lift your head just a little to stare at him, and he gazes back it you, green eye firm and unyielding. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle, a little sad, a little hurt.
“I need to know why you lied to me, lied to all of us. I could have understood if you’d told us you were hiding the truth from us because you were afraid that we would leave you behind if we found out about your identity, but after you became part of our crew, there is no excuse, Chin Hae.”
All sorts of emotions swirl in you, the most prominent one guilt. You’ve hurt your captain, lied to the crew, and now you need to give them an explanation, except that you have none that makes sense.
“I…” You begin hesitantly, fingers fiddling with the hairpin at your belt. Its touch is cool and comforting, even if the man who gave it to you hasn’t said a word to you since you woke up. “I was afraid at first. Afraid that if you found out who I was, you’d leave me behind. But as I started to grow closer to all of you…”
The words choke in your throat.
Hongjoong’s expression is soft as he urges you to continue. “Go on.” The dam in you breaks, tears slipping past your eyes as the feelings that you’ve kept in so long spills out of you.
“I didn’t know how you’d react! I saw how all of you trusted me as one of your own and I was so afraid what you’d do if I told you I had been lying to you the whole time! I didn’t want you to be hurt, I didn’t want you to hate me! I just wanted to keep being Chin Hae, your crewmate! And now, everything has changed!” A sob leaves you and your eyes squeeze tight, unable to look your captain in the eye. You don’t want to see the look on his face as he tells you that this is a stupid reason, that you should have just come clean at the start.
But he doesn’t.
There is silence for a moment, then the scraping sound of a chair behind pulled out. You hear soft footsteps on the cabin floor approaching you, and for a moment, you’re actually afraid that your captain might hit you.
Instead, two warm hands come to rest gently on your shoulders.
“What has changed?” He asks softly. You look up in shock to see your captain’s faces mere inches from yours, so close that you can count the stitches on his eye patch. You’ve always wondered why your captain needs an eye patch, just like how you’ve questioned why Wooyoung always wear shirts with longs sleeves even on the hottest of days and why he wears shackles around his wrists like a slave. But this isn’t the time for those questions.
“I don’t understand-”
“Nothing has changed.” Your captain tells you firmly, not a trace of doubt in his voice. “You are Choi Chin Hae, you are and have always been since the day I gave you that name. You are still part of the Treasure, part of my crew, one of my family. Even if you are a woman, a clay one, instead of a man of flesh, neither of those things change for me.”
Warm tears run down your eyes. You finally have something you had been searching for your whole life, a family who loved you like no other.
“Why I wish you had told us earlier… is because we could have protected you better, made your life easier on this ship instead of having you live a lie.” Hongjoong says honestly, his hands are gentle as he squeezes your shoulders. Something in his voice cracks. “I regret, with every fibre of my being, being unable to protect you from that commander back in Nassau.”
You don’t understand your captain. He was getting whipped within an inch of his life because of you, and the thing that weighed most heavily on his mind was being unable to protect you?
“I’m… sorry, captain.” You manage to stutter, still utterly in shock. But your captain shakes his head, his green eye staring at you meaningfully.
“I believe that apology is better saved for someone else, Chin Hae.”
You immediately know who he’s speaking about. Your fingers touch the silver sea flower wrought into the head of the hairpin.
“I will.” You tell your captain, determined to make amends. Even if he doesn’t forgive you for betraying him, you still owe him an apology, at the very least. “But I’m still sorry for causing you all this burden, captain.”
Hongjoong laughs, stepping back as his hands fall from your shoulders.
“Didn’t you hear what I said to Seonghwa the last time? I want you to tell me all your problems, burden me with everything, share life with me and the crew. We’re a family.”
The tears that slip from your eyes, this time, are ones of happiness.
“Yes, captain.” You manage choke out, and before you’re overcome with emotion, you move for the door, intent on finding the head gunner. But when you’re out of the cabin, stepping onto the main deck, a call from your captain makes you whirl back to look at him.
“Chin Hae?”
You’re a little confused by what he wants to say. He seems to be pondering something, rolling the thought around in his mind. You prompt him, curious about why he seems to be so hesitant.
“Captain?”
Finally, he smiles, and your breath catches in your throat from how it highlights every part of his face even in the gloom of his cabin.
“Call me Hongjoong.”
And with that, the door closes in your face with a soft click.
A happy laugh leaves through your tears. The words seem almost instinctive to you now, more free on your tongue than they have ever been. Before, you had been part of the crew, but now, you are part of the family.
“Of course… captain.”
A light feeling blossoming in your heart, you wipe the tears from your eyes and look up to the sky with a smile.
And you see a dark shape in the rigging, swaying back and forth with the wind, looking utterly alone.
Concern wells in your chest. San had told you that Wooyoung had been been remaining in the rigging for the past week you had been unconscious, only visiting your bedside once. During that time, he had refused his meals, snapped at everyone who had attempted to talk to him and had literally drunk himself half to death. In fact, he probably would have, San had told you grimly, if he hadn’t gotten into a massive fist fight with Jongho.
The maknae had tied a rope around Wooyoung’s waist, picked him up and thrown him into the sea to sober off. After that, the gunner had stopped downing alcohol like he was trying to drown himself in it, but it evidently wasn’t enough to stop him from separating himself from everyone like he had the plague.
Worse of all, Yunho had confided in you, eyes worried, that Wooyoung seemed to be regressing back into the behaviour he had exhibited when he had first come to the ship. He had ignored Hongjoong’s orders, which simply doesn’t happen on this ship, and had even refused to speak to Yunho or Yeosang.
Lonely, afraid and terrified of interacting with anyone around him.
You need to apologise.
Crossing the main deck, you make your way to the foremast, climbing up to the forecastle deck. The dark shape above you continues swaying precariously in the ropes above, uncaring of anything below it.
You exhale deeply, trying to muster up the courage to speak.
“Wooyoung!”
The dark shape jerks, almost tumbling out of the rigging, to your horror. But his hand flashes out instinctively from years in the ropes, gripping tight onto the sheets, and he rights himself, glancing down.
His eyes meet yours for a second, and in that moment, your heart shatters.
You honestly don’t know what you were expecting when you met him face to face again. You remembered, more than anything else, that his face had been the last thing you’d seen when you slipped into your tangle with death itself, streaked with tears and grief. You couldn’t exactly recall what he’d said or you’d said, but you had seen his face in your dreams more times than you could count.
But in none of them had he looked like this.
The person staring back at you looks like a man haunted, as if he’s just surfaced from a terrifying nightmare, trapped in the shadows of his own mind, desperately wondering if he’s still merely wandering about in the darkness. His normally immaculate purple hair is mussed, as if he hasn’t bothered with it for weeks, and his mouth hangs open in shock.
Then he smooths it over the best he can, but you can see the wounded, terrified look in his eyes right before it slips away behind his mask. Hiding his true self in front of your eyes.
“I’m coming up.” You call, and you don’t think you’ve seen him more panicked your entire life.
His eyes fly wide in horror and he opens his mouth to protest, but then immediately shuts it before a word can escape him, much to your confusion. You place your hands on the rope, the thick lengths twisting under your grasp as you begin to haul yourself up.
It’s been a long time since you’ve touched the ropes, but you’re sure it’ll come back to you soon. You’re just not sure whether it’ll come back fast enough to catch Wooyoung, who’s scurrying away from you up the mast like a terrified monkey. Honestly, your limbs are still weak from your long bedrest and you doubt that you can catch the man who’s practically lived in the ropes for half his life, but you need to at least make an effort for all the pain you’ve put him through.
“Wooyoung, wait!” You shout, chasing him up as fast as you can. He doesn’t look back once, scrambling as fast as he can to avoid you at all costs. But there’s only one way he can go, and that is up. Eventually, he reaches the top of the mast, and there’s nowhere else for him to go. His eyes widen as he realises this and he glances at your approaching figure like it’s the devil itself come for him.
Then his eyes flicker to the side and you gape, a swear starting to emerge from your mouth. “Wooyoung, no-”
But it’s too late. He’s already jumped across the rigging, catching onto the ropes of the main mast and hiding from your sight behind the wooden pillar.
“Are you serious, Wooyoung?” You grumble, grabbing a rope from the side and swinging across to him. The wind and warmth of the sun caresses your face as you grab onto the ropes of the main mast, barely catching a glimpse of his eyes as he leaps to the mizzenmast.
Honestly, if you follow him again, he’s probably just going to jump into the ocean to avoid you and you’ll never get to apologise to him. Then a dumb, reckless plan pops into your mind and you start climbing higher and higher, as fast as you can.
“Do you trust me?” Wooyoung had asked you once.
You had replied with a joking ‘not at all’, but deep in you, the words still stayed the same, no matter what had happened between the two of you.
With my life.
“Wooyoung!” You call, and from your time together in the rigging, learning about the way each other thinks, moves, breathes, he can sense something in the air. One eye peeks around the wood of the mast, only to widen in horror as he sees you stand at the highest yardarm, arms outstretched, only holding on to a single length of rope in hand.
It’s a trick that the two of you had developed, before the mission, before Nassau, before any of this had happened. It had just been the two of you, you resting against him in the crow’s nest, your intertwined hands in his coat pocket for warmth as you had watched the sun vanish behind the sea and the stars twinkle to life in the night sky.
You want, for a moment so desperately it hurts, to return to that time.
“No, don’t do it-” You see him begin to shout in raging alarm and panic, but you simply grin at him, wild and breathless from the sheer stupidity and recklessness of what you’re about to do. You’ve never done it from this high before, but you place your faith in Wooyoung, closing your eyes.
“Catch me.”
With that, you jump.
Wind rushes past you for a second as you seems to hang in free fall, but you’re not the least bit scared like you should be. In a single breath, something warm slams into your body, sending you flying backwards. Strong arms wrap around you, one around your waist and the other catches the rigging behind you. Your entire body jerks as you come to an abrupt stop, tangled in the ropes and in Wooyoung’s arms.
His body is warm against yours, pressing you to him. For a moment, relief sags in you.  
Your eyes fly open, only to see Wooyoung’s eyes staring straight into yours, pupils still dilated from fear.
Then his mouth opens, and from incensed look on his face, you’re about to get a tongue lashing.
“What were you thinking-” He rants, furious at your actions. But you aren’t paying attention to his scolding, instead, your eyes flicker over the sickly, bloodless pallor of his face, the way his jawline looks too sharp from lack of proper eating, skin stretched over his bones, how gaunt he looks with sunken cheeks. There’s a healing bruise on his cheekbone, still fresh, put there presumably by Jongho.
Your heart breaks clean in half when you study the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, as if he hasn’t slept the entire week, how the white colouring of his skin makes them look like dark bruises.
“And do you know how dangerous that little stunt was? What would you have done if I hadn’t gotten to you in time? I can’t believe-” His words are cut off in a breathless gasp as your hands reach up to cradle his face gentle, thumbs brushing the soft skin under his eyes. He stares at you with wide eyes, terrified but so desperately unwilling to pull away from your touch, a war raging in his heart.
“You haven’t been sleeping well?” You murmur softly, tracing his cheeks and for a second, in a moment of weakness, he gives into your warmth, pressing his face into your hand. For a while, everything is right again with you and him, two people seeking comfort in each other.
That’s what the two of you have always been, a refuge for the other.
Then he catches himself and yanks himself from you, clapping one hand over his mouth, turning away so that you can no longer see his face.
“Go.��� You hear him choke out, the words muffled by his hand as he sits down on the yardarm, unwilling to look at you in the eye. But you’ve had enough.
“Stop running from me, Jung Wooyoung!”
He seizes up at his full name. Nobody on board this ship calls him that, aware that his family name isn’t a real one. It’s something Hongjoong gifted him with when he had become one of the crew, a precious treasure of incomparable worth to him. But when you use it, he knows you understand the weight of it.
Having a name, when before you had none.
You see him shake his head and bury his face in his hands, knees curled up to himself. He doesn’t want to speak.
Crossing over to him, you crouch before his form. Initially, you had thought he was angry at you and merely didn’t want to talk to you out of fury at being lied to like that, but now you feel like it runs so much deeper than that.
“Wooyoung, talk to me, please.”
He shakes his head again, a little more frantic this time. You hear a sob torn from his chest and the sound of pain, anguish, agony makes yours ache in return.
“I’m begging you, Wooyoung. Please. Please talk to me.”
He remains completely still apart from the silent cries you can hear trapped in his chest. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before, like a child who wants nothing more than to run to his parents for comfort, but doesn’t have any.
Someone who doesn’t know how to be told that it’s all going to be okay.
You rack your brains furiously for what happened to make him like this. Back and back and back, to that moment in the captain’s room, to when Wooyoung looked at you with eyes burning with ice cold fury. You see his lips move, and then you remember what he had said to you.
I wish… I wish you had died that first battle after Raguza... I wish you had never come to this ship.
“I didn’t mean it…” You hear Wooyoung’s soft whimpers as his body is wracked with the force of his sobs. Your heart breaks as you finally realise why he’s afraid of speaking to you any longer, why he won’t look at you in the eye. “I never wanted for any of that to happen… I never wanted for you to get hurt like that…”
A tear escapes you, a single drop rolling down your cheek.
He blames himself for what you had done.
Then you move forward, arms wrapping around him. His entire body stiffens in shock at your touch and he tries to shy away, but you cling to him, unwilling to let him go this time. Your chin rests on his shoulder, so close to him you can hear his heartbeat in your ears.
“I forgive you, Jung Wooyoung.”
“Don’t-” He chokes past tears, and another shudder runs through his entire body. “Don’t forgive me.”
You smile at him fondly even if you know he can’t see it. “Then you forgive me for lying to you.”
“I don’t blame you for that.” He sniffs, wiping his eyes but face still hidden in his arms. “You had every reason not to tell me. I had no right to say anything like that to you.”
“If you don’t let me forgive you, Wooyoung, I’m going to jump off the mast right this second.” You tell him, pulling away. Wooyoung’s hands rush to grab your wrists, pulling you tight to him, his chains jingling in your ears.
“Forgive me, forgive me-” He chokes out, wheezing from the heart attack he has almost gotten. You laugh, curling yourself into his chest where you’ve always sat before as you watch the sun begin to set before your eyes, turning the sky golden and blue.
This time, you take his hand in yours and place it in your pocket.
“I do.”
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sporksaber · 3 years
Text
Ok, I love the role swap concept with zuko and azula, but I feel like they switch their abilities and personalities a bit too and I think itd be more fun without that. Where Azula is an antisocial and unstable genius who wants to gain power and zuko still struggles with being the less powerful and extremely empathetic sibling. So here's how I'd do it.
(Note, this is just for fun. I'm not saying anyone else's version is bad. But I've though about this so much and need it out of my head before I go off cuz make a whole comic and I do not have the time, i need to work.)
First off, Azula wouldn't call out in concern for the men like how zuko did. In my version she's allowed into the meeting because of the aptitude for strategy shes shown. She speaks up because it's an inefficient plan that uses up too many resources when there are other options. This enrages her father and leads to the agni kai. Azula is terrified and feels betrayed but has no idea how to handle any of it. She fights back during the agni kai, but in her panic she sets off a bolt of lightning. Ozai finishes the match and severely burns on her lower back. Azula is banished for her use of lightning on the fire lord (bc ozai fears she will no longer be easy to manipulate and might plot his death) and is forced to leave the next morning.
Some things to note: azula is eleven at this point. I changed the placement of the scar bc I think zuko's is very symbolic in a way that doesnt suit azula. Zuko's scar being over his eye and close to the light chakra shows the way his view of the fire nation and honour obscures his vision and how he is unaware of the truth of the world under fire nation rule. I set azula's over her spine because that chakra is based on survival and blocked by fear. It also represents trust which will fit into her arc with the gaang. Finally, she doesnt have Iroh to guide her. One of the things that bothered me was Iroh writing her off as evil despite her being a mentally unstable child. She did have to be defeated, but the way he talked about it was too dismissive. (Personally I think he was projecting his views of his brother and his perceived failures with him onto her.) Azula isnt sent to capture the avatar so she isnt given soldiers. She's completely alone without an advisor to look to or keep her calm.
Azula is given a manned ship with a disgraced soldier and an attendant when she leaves. The way I see it the soldiers zuko had were probably more irohs than his. The soldier is relieved to not be executed but hates being demoted to playing babysitter to a child at sea. The attendant views it as a punishment and hates Azula for it. Eventually the attendant will betray her and be killed for it. Azula never trusted the soldier and he eventually leaves to start a family in an earth kingdom colony. Azula doesnt miss him, he was no longer useful. The loneliness does get to her though.
Azula is obsessed with getting the underhand, so she had been successfully building connections and planting spies where needed.
(Zuko has been acting as a respectable crowned prince. He holds a zealous loyalty to his nation and father. He still faulters as Iroh tries to steer him from tyranny, but his sights are set on his father's approval and that alone. Afterall, if his prodigy could be discarded who's to say what would happen to him if he failed?)
This brings us to the start of the series. Like Zuko Azula witnesses the trap on the old fire nation battle ship go off. She investigates and finds that an air bending avatar is living at the south pole village. She decides she wants to speak with him.
Azula didn't believe the avatar existed before this point. Hiding didnt add up to her knowledge of the morality of airbenders, so she assumed the air nation avatar from the start of the war would be dead. She would know if one had appeared in the water tribe, as the south had all its benders killed and the north was compacted so close together it would be impossible to hide. Earth would be harder, but they were most likely to fight back and out act. And if in ba sing se they'd be used as a weapon or gotten rid of to preserve the peace of the city. Once the culcle progressed to the fire nation it would either be used to take over the other nations or enf the cycle for good. After all, there hasn't been an air bender for a hundred years even if the rumors of some acolytes surviving were truthful.
Azula kidnaps aang with far more ease than she should of been able to. Once he stops struggling she calmly offers him tea and promises to release him once their discussion is finished. He takes the tea and drinks it without question and besides a wary glare shows no more hostility. She thought him a fool, the tea could have easily been poisoned and promised are nothing but words. His naivete makes her job easier though.
She finds out that he was suspended frozen in the avatar state the last 100 years. And so, Azula informs him of the war and the fire nations crimes, advising him to master the elements if he wants to prevent all his new friends and the avatar cycle from certain destruction. Aang is conflicted, he never asked for any of this. Azula just gives a bitter smile. "The hands of fate were never designed to take requests, they move without regard to any life dependent on it. Dont waste your breath when there is nothing you can do."
Azula wants to see Ozai fail. If helping the avatar is what it takes then so be it. When his friends appear to save him she let's them leave without a fight. Theyll be useful in the future.
As the gaang's travels kick off she sets out to find out if the rumours about the acolytes are true. In this she finds a traveling circus. The youngest daughter and an old friend of hers was eager to escape and found Azula's life exciting. She didn't hesitate after being invited along, insisting that traveling would be easy for her and that she'd pull her own weight.
She encounters the gaang a few times as time goes by. The relationship is reluctant on the water tribe siblings part, they dont trust her and hold a decent amount of fear towards her. Her cold and calculating demeanor was unsettling, but the unhinged way she fought was terrifying. Her form was perfect and her attacks were precise, but the bigger the fight the more lost she became as she laughed and shrieked and occasionally snapped at someone who didnt seem to be there. The only worse reaction was when she zeroed in on one opponent, picking them apart both mentally and physically as she drove them to the ground. )
Things that'll happen as I move through an episode list:
Azula doesn't have her ship attacked do she diesnt run into zhao while doing repairs, instead going straight to ty lee.
Azula learns that the gaang is on kyoshi island and heads ther after them. She has been keeping track of the avatar as they move. Ty lee gets along well with the kyoshi warriors while azula buts heads with them. They dont want her there and azula hates it when people get in the way. Zhao appears to try to capture aang and Azula dips at the same time as the gaang. She tells ty lee she can stay but she insists on sticking with azula. This puts her on edge.
Ty lee gets captured by earth benders, when she escapes on her own she cements her usefulness to Azula.
They run into zhao trying to capture the avatar and azula tells him she'll capture him first. They both attack aang during the solstice, though azula's attacks are all purposefully set to miss and trip up zhao as much as possible. Aang is the best way to prove her father wrong and she's not going to lose that.
They rob the pirates that try to capture the avatar. Azula needs the resources and it gives her leverage over the gaang.
After almost killing ty lee for scaring her by popping up behind her Azula tells her why she was banished. (In more of a "my own mother thought I was a monster" way than an opening up about trauma way.)
Azula learns that zhao has captured aang and frees him. She then sets to reworking her information network as not all of them are scared enough of her to not fail her. She remedies it quickly.
Azula learns that zhao is plotting her assassination and decides it's the perfect moment to fake her death.
Azula enters the north pole to defeat zhao and gain any information she can. Ty lee rades a library during the confrontation. Zhao is surprised and infuriated to see her alive, Azula smiles as she sends him to his death knowing that she is not only helping the avatar but also that he gave her a perfect way to hide from the fire nation. (When news of his sisters death reaches hum, Zuko doesnt know what to think. She was always cruel to him, but she was still his little sister.)
The crown prince of the fire nation is sent to capture the avatar. Azula follows him as he begins his search. (Zuko begins to think he's going insane as he keeps catching glimpses of his recently deceased sister out of the corner of his eye.)
Ty lee keeps running into a girl she slowly befriends. She's gloomy and sarcastic and ty lee thinks Azula would like her. (Zuko's fiance Mai tells him that she thinks his sister is still alive.)
As Azula notices ty lee become more and more distracted as she absorbed herself into the cultures that surround them she decides it's best for them to split up. Ty lee diesnt agree, but Azula leaves anyway. She has work to do.
While traveling alone Azula cant escape the thoughts of her mother. Of her fathers betrayal. Of the life she lost because the idiot elders had no grip on proper strategy that even a child could create. She meets a boy that reminds her far too much of zuko with a mother far to similar to theirs. When she sends the bandits controlling the town running she knows it's more than just controlling a territory that compelled her. But at the same time she doubts not following through on the whim would have bothered her.
Ty lee meets toph and chat for a bit. Ty lee tells her about azula and how she left. When toph tells her she should forget her she insists that azula didnt really ditch her and that they're still friends. They talk about their friends and childhood.
Ty lee finds Azula and immidiently jumps at her, which she does not enjoy. Ty lee insists that she still wants to travel with her and Axula sighs as she let's her tag along to the next location, ba sing se.
Azula slips through guards and protocols as she tries to gain any information she can to help her once they reach the city. Ty lee befriends a guy named jet and his group, the freedom fighters. When he tries to get more than friendship she turns him down and it becomes much more awkward.
Ty lee becomes a street performer and chames everyone she meets as Azula researches the dai lee and how they keep control. After lashing out in frustration ty lee drags her out to enjoy the city's night life.
Azula learns of the presence of the avatar and location of appa. She frees him and sets to work taking control of the dai lee. She let's herself be briefly captured but her plan shifts when katara is thrown in with her. Katara is pissed just being around her and azula plays up a cool kind of annoyance. Katara briefly catches sight of the burns on Azula's back and offers to heal her, only for Azula to freak out and yell at her to stay away, backing against a far wall in a fighting stance. They are saved by the rest if the gaang and ty lee shortly after.
Azula goes back to try and salvage her plan only to be caught off guard by the appearance of her brother and his offer to return to the fire nation. Not willing to lose all possible advantages, she agrees. They battle the gaang, and when they are almost captured azula sends a bolt of lightning at aang, causing them to retreat. Katara can heal him more easily than she can maneuver them out of an execution.
Azula returns to the fire nation with her brother, mai and ty lee, starting the beginning of a large power play between her and her father. They are sent to lo and li beach house. The relationship between the siblings is tense, zuko has always been the child born with nothing who gained everything when his blessed at birth sister lost it all. Azula has always been cruel, but he cant help but let his heart catch on the moments when she's not. ("My own mother thought I was a monster, My father thought i was too difficult to keep around" "Don't let their words blind you, you need to be more careful, zuzu." "I learned the hard way to never turn your back to anyone, and the scars will always be there as a reminder if I need it." )
Azula runs into iroh, who is very disapproving of her presence. He warns her to stay away from zuko and to watch herself while at the palace. Later, zuko comes to her asking about their great grandfather. Upon being pressed he admits that he was sent a mysterious letter. He thought she was going to burn it when he handed it to her but instead the heat from the fire revealed a hidden ink. "Honestly brother, did you ever pay attention at all during lessons?" They find a autobiographical scroll of their great grandfathers life and the secret that their other great grandfather was roku. Azula scoffed at the idea of bloodlines deciding fate and quickly left. But Zuko remained conflicted.
During the day of the black sun Azula confronts Ozai. As iroh and Zuko fight the avatar. She learns that her mother left for zuko's sake and that she was never going to be fire lord. Azula tells him she'll be somthing even better and leaves the palace.
Azula and ty lee follow the gaang to the western air temple. Katara immidprntly attacks but is quickly rendered unable to bend by ty lee. Azula tells them that the only way for them to of gotten out was for Aang to be incapacitated, and she knew katara could heal him. Aang decides they can stay but have to stay distanced from everyone else.
Azula tries to teach aang fire bending but is slowly growing sick while aang is barely able to produce a puff of smoke. Unable to sleep and constantly on edge, it soon affects her bending, sending her spiraling as she loses control on the only consistent power she's ever had. Her and aang journey to find the true source of fire bending to try to help their conditions.
Still sick, Azula is itching to do anything away from the temple. Finding sokka trying to reach the boiling rock to find his father, she decides to go with him as she knows the prison well. Sokka declines but she goes anyway. They dont find his father, but they do find suki. Azula formulates a plan but they postpone when sokka's father arrives.
Azula comes up with a new plan, now reluctant to include sokka. He tells her to trust him but she insists she has no reason to. Her sickness has been getting worse and he tells her she needs to trust him, making her angry. Only when he catches her while they're escaping dies she finally begin to accept trusting him, if only slightly.
(While they're away ty lee tries to convince
Azula goes with Katara to find the man who killed her mother. Azula has no concept of why katara is so upset, which causes her to get angry. But azula tracks the man anyway.
Ember island players- azulas character has the scar across her chest. She's absolutely insane and "not entirely inaccurate, but I'd never come up with such a dumb plan." Shes also heavily implied to be more than close to ty lee, which azula has no reaction to even as the others freak out.
I havent decided the ending, zuko will probably turn to the gaang's side. I'll add more later and maybe write or illustrate a bit.
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laurore-stormwitch · 3 years
Text
Just one last night - AO3
Since the "holding hands in the quiet of his bedchamber" snippet came out I'm depicting a thousand different way for that scene to play out. This is just one of them! Hope you all enjoy it and feedback are always sooo appreciated! ______________________________________________________________
“I will leave the vials here as a precaution. I know you’re comfortable enough and I trust you to have the demon at bay, but we can’t ever be too careful.”
Zoya looked outside the window, mustering the courage to say the next words. As everyone said their goodnights, she had lingered in his sitting room, following him to his bedchambers and making small talk to fill the space between them. There wasn’t a real reason why she was there with him, except the pathetic excuse she was ashamed to have come up with. To be frank, anyone could have delivered the vials to him, it didn’t have to be her. Zoya just wanted it to be her, just for tonight. And she didn’t miss the knowing look on Tamar face when she agreed to let her handle it; yet she ignored it anyway, turning on her heels. She absentmindedly touched her neck while she put them on his nightstand; it felt bare at the absence of the heavy key she used to lock him in every night before the Fold. Her mind escaped her; at times she felt as if her and Nikolai were like distant planets, bound to orbit for their eternity around a bright sun without ever getting to touch it and be embraced by its warmth. They would circle each other, and when they came too close the flames of the sun scorched them. So they continued their march, growing distant again. But the orbit was set; they couldn’t steer away from it, it kept them in place, preventing them to drift too far from one another. Zoya let out a tired breath, watching the vials. You’re losing your cynicism to Nikolai’s sentimental nonsense. What’s gotten into your head? Now everything seemed to be going on smoothly, with Nikolai having regained control; the only precaution was for him to keep taking a mild sleeping draught just in case the demon came knocking in his mind. Her help or her presence weren’t needed anymore; even this small moment alone felt like a theft. She inhaled, steadying her voice to sound sharp, emotionless.
“Tamar and Tolya have more of this if it’s needed. Even the stronger one we used.” She closed her eyes under the dim light of the night, savouring the feeling of being in this room before dragging the dagger in. “It’s best if I don’t come here again. You can’t afford any more whispers now that you’re engaged. Especially since your wife to be isn’t exactly enthusiastic.”
A deeply buried part of her wanted Nikolai to protest, to find a way to still have her with him every evening. Her pragmatic side, on the contrary, reminded her that driving a wedge between them was the wise choice to make. She heard him sit on the bed with a sigh and turned to see his shoulders dropping; a defeated Nikolai was a hard sight to take.
“I suppose you’re right. Although I was almost getting used to it. I’ll miss your goodnight spite.”
“I’ll let you have enough of that at any other hour of day.”
“Make sure there’s no shortage of it. I don’t know how I’ll survive without hearing you delightfully insulting me every two sentences.”
He grinned. Leave it to Nikolai to find the strength to make everything seem easier. Zoya scoffed, taking a few steps until she stood in front of him.
“You look awful.” She stated, eyeing his strained face.
“See? How can I go to sleep without this?”
“You’ll sleep just fine. You just need to survive until the marriage.”
He groaned, casting a glare at her. She could see how much he hated this, how much he hated every time she was the one to mention it. It was hard not to comfort him, but it wasn’t her role to play.
“Come on, Nikolai. You only have to stand on an altar being handsome and say yes.”
“Ah, but saying yes to people is not an easy task, Zoya. I like to be a contrarian.”
“Believe me, I know”, she huffed, “It’s going to be quick and painless.” He considered her thoughtfully for a while, leaning back a little and resting his hands on the mattress, tilting his head in her direction. Her brow shot up with a questioning look.
“You might be eager to get rid of me, but you don’t seem excited for this either, you know.”
Nikolai pointed out, carefully pondering every word, an expectant look on his face as he studied her. Oh, bold of him, Zoya thought, caught off guard by his direct remark. She faltered for a moment, thinking he didn’t really know how right he was. He could never know. She dismissed him with a shrug of her shoulders, trying to look unfazed.
“We’re marrying you off to someone who tried to kill you, it’s not a choice I’d define perfect. And I don’t like weddings as a general rule.”
Half-truths were better than nothing. I especially don’t like yours. She put her best annoyance in the words, pursing her lips and sitting gracefully beside him on his bed, pulled here by the string that tied her to him. Zoya purposely ignored how dangerous this action was. A small part of her still wanted to savour these moments until she could. He scoffed, amused, shuffling more near to her, poking her playfully with his shoulder.
“Why would that be? You’re such the romantic type.”
Zoya glared at him, tossing her mane of black hair over her shoulder.
“What would you know about that?”
“Nothing, really.” She told herself she imagined the displeased tone he had while admitting this. “Are you?”
She pondered his question for a moment. No, she was most definitely not the romantic type. Nothing about her previous conquests had been romantic. Since she was little, she had know romance was not waiting in her life.
“I don’t think so. Not that I had the chance to find out. I stopped believing in these charades at a very young age.”
“Why is that?”
That’s a complex answer, Nikolai. One made of many stories, one that started soon in her life. She remembered showing him the scars on her back. This was no different, just another one of the wounds she had tried to heal. Why was it so natural to reveal her most guarded secrets to him? When had he began to unravel her like that? The words rolled out of her mouth before she could really think on them.
“At nine years old they tried to march me to my own wedding. Maybe that’s why I never grew fond of them.”
Zoya let her hands rest on the bed too, next to his, straightening her spine and keeping her posture up. Her chin was held high as she spoke. She didn’t want to look and find his compassion, his pity. But Nikolai was not like that, he would never be like that; he would just keep surprising her, over and over. After a wave of shock flowed by, he looked at her with a rumbling rage inside him. Despite herself, she was touched by his fierce reaction.
“What?” He sputtered, trying to control himself. His eyes never left her.
“We had nothing when I was young. So, my mother tried to sell the only thing she could make profit from: my beauty. But something happened, and the wedding was stopped.”
“You were a child, Zoya.”
“I was”, she conceded, “but it didn’t really matter.” He shook his head with a troubled look.
“It does matter. What happened?” You matter, Zoya. That’s what she heard in his strained tone.
“Someone saved me.”
Her voice wavered and cracked a bit at the thought of her aunt. Sweet Liliyana, brave Liliyana. She left and now Zoya was on her own on the ship with the two-star flag, sailing a restless sea. She couldn’t find the words to say this; it was a pain so carefully nestled in her heart that she feared she would’ve still succumbed to it, even with Juris guidance to accept it. Her lungs grew tighter, the weight of that loss pressing on her chest. She felt Nikolai moving on her side, regaining his calm: he was so close she could feel his warmth and the scent of his skin, still salty after the year since he abandoned Sturmhond. Their hands were already almost touching each other; suddenly, his made a shift and came to rest on hers, curling gently on it. She tensed for an instant and sucked a sharp breath in, but when she let herself relax, she found that his touch was soothing. It was an intimate and delicate gesture, driven by the despair he sensed even through her perfect stillness.
As he held her tight, Zoya felt she was not steering the ship alone in this particular storm. Her eyes wandered around, trying to distract herself: she foolishly thought how much she really liked this room. She liked the walls painted blue, a testament to the longing Nikolai felt for his days as a privateer; as much as she gave him hell about it, she enjoyed that part of him, the ruthless pirate and explorer. She could see why he chose that tint, it was comforting for him too, made him feel at home. It was so much like her own chambers, with the towering waves painted all over them. She glanced briefly at him under her lashes and found him silently looking at her. He didn’t push her, didn’t ask for more, just waited patiently for her to decide whether to go on or not.
Silence enveloped them like fog on a winter morning. The sea wasn’t troubled anymore; Nikolai was there with her, in a place that seemed to be always made just for him. She inhaled deeply.
“Then I was the one to save us in return. My power came through, and I cracked the roof of the church open. I was taken to the Little Palace and begun my training. You know the rest of the story, or some of it.” She turned to him: his eyes were hard to read in the faint light of the room. He was looking at her with marvel, and something else she couldn’t quite place. Something that dangerously looked like a kind of affection they couldn’t indulge on. The shadow of a smile flashed on him.
“It’s perfectly in your character.”
“What is?”
“To tear down a church at nine years old. Highly predictive of what came next.”
She smiled too. She couldn’t help but smile at him.
“Tolya might frown at my disregard for faith.”
“He most definitely would.”
Zoya knew she should’ve let go of his hand. She could hear his breathing, and if they stayed silent enough, she was so close she could hear his heartbeat. It was an intoxicating feeling.
“Before that happened, I dreamed of being a soldier, as I told you once. After that, I became one. Just not the kind I thought I’d be.”
All the lives she could’ve had flashed behind her eyes. She saw herself in an olive drab coat, serving in the First Army, with a rifle in her hands instead of the wind as her ally. She saw a little girl taken too soon, her suffering and helplessness. A young woman working in Liliana’s shop, who grew up to marry a nice farmer and be a mother, maybe. Lives that weren’t hers anymore, and that she would never trade, lives that peaked every now and then in her nightmares. There was another future too that she saw, distant and blurry: one full of Nikolai’s light, one she couldn’t dwell on, that was lost before it was even possible to conceive it. And yet their hands were still bound, none of them brave enough to break the connection.
“You’re still a soldier. A general, as a matter of fact. And your beauty is still something that makes people do insane things, isn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes at his teasing tone, wondering if he would do insane things for her.
“Beauty is a double-edged blade, Nikolai, as much as any other virtue. You can let others use you for it or be the one to weaponize it. They tried the first with me, so I learned to do the second. I shaped my appearance to be something that I could exploit for my own goals; be it to be respected, to gain favours, to have whoever man I wanted to toy with. To be the one in control. The way I look is a sword just like the ones made from steel.”
She would never admit she threw in the "toying with men" part just to gain a reaction. Not that it wasn’t true, or that she wasn’t proud of it, because she was. That was just how they were used to provoke each other, and none of them usually yield to the taunts, or they would just keep answering with the same snarky remarks. But this time, Nikolai flinched. A shadow went through his face and betrayed his inner turmoil, and it looked more like remorse than empty jelousy. She supposed she should’ve taken it as a victory and be satisfied, but this win just felt sour and left a bitter taste in her mouth. They were getting worse at this game. What are you thinking of, Nikolai? He nodded without answering; they both knew he understood this well. His charm was a weapon too, one he learned to wield at a young age, one that brought him to success and distracted his enemies many times. He began to brush his thumb on her palm, squeezing her hand lightly.
“I know you don’t need me to tell you. But you’re so much more than that.”
For all her confidence and withering glares, he seemed to know how sometimes she still felt like the child being dragged to marry an old man. How sometimes she was still scared, and lost, and lonely. He knew this was the reason why she left the lamp burning for him when she wished him goodnight: because everyone is afraid of their monsters when we’re alone in the darkness. Her heart missed his rhythm and she tightened her hold too, a way to told him she understood, that the gratitude she felt was too hard to voice. Zoya wondered how someone could feel so full and empty at the same time, until Nikolai interrupted her train of thoughts.
“Do you remember the night in Ivets? The carriage ride back?”
I remember everything, Nikolai. Every word you have ever said to me. She cocked her head towards him, some curls falling on her face, imitating his teasing tone.
“Want me to read your fate again?”
“What future do you see in the stars now, general?”
Her lips quirked in another smile. Wife, that’s how he called her that night. She didn’t miss how he seemed to have casually chosen another title now; it was a joke they could hardly afford anymore, one that caused too much ache somewhere deep inside of them. She kept the lightness in her tone, but replied with honesty.
“I see a war. A war fought on many fronts, but with many allies too. With friends. And I see a great young King leading his country to victory, against all odds. I see you rebuilding Ravka.”
“We.” He corrected as quickly as if it was an instinct. We. As if it could ever be a reality. She shook her head with a fond smile.
“This is your fate, Nikolai. You’ll read mine another time.”
He was still grazing her palm. With a sudden movement, he intertwined his fingers in hers, looking at their bound hands as if they were something sacred. She was all too aware of his warming touch on her skin. There they were, closer to their burning star than they’ve ever been.
“You really mean it.” It was not a question: he heard the certainty in her voice.
“I do. I believe in you.”
Nikolai locked his eyes in hers, casting her a longing look that made her want to fall at his knees. A whisper came out of him.
“And even if he wins, how much will his eager country take from the young King?”
The despair in his voice sent a stabbing pain through her. It will take you from me. And there it was, as their orbits almost crossed, the fire blazing, telling them it was time to say their goodbyes. The weight of his hand felt suffocating now; she trembled and untangled their hands abruptly, and it was like someone had just tore a limb away from her body. The fear had clutched her heart: an icy wind swept her, as the armour of the general slipped back into place and she cast aside her desires. Zoya remembered why she was here, what she had told herself. Who she was and what she had to do to save them. Things that were too easy to forget when Nikolai was standing so close. You can’t be here anymore. She couldn’t have this weakness. He seemed to want to reach for her, leaning slightly towards her, struck by her sudden shift in mood. She slowly got up, smoothing her kefta.
“This is a broken place, Your Highness. You will bring this drowning man to shore, of that much I’m sure.”
Even in the quiet of the room, Zoya could swear she heard him shout at her to stay. This she couldn’t endure; she paced towards the door, turning around to him when she trusted herself to be far enough not to surrender. The fire crackled, lighting up Nikolai’s golden pained eyes.
“But we will pay a price nonetheless.”
For days to come she would ponder wherever she had found the willpower to walk away from the safety of his hold. Zoya pulled the handle and got out without looking back, hearing the lock click behind her. Her steps were unsure, fragile. She wondered how many times she had left to hear this sound before his door would close forever, never to be opened for her again.
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oyubaat-tapcaf · 3 years
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Another Job Is Done //Mandalorian x Reader
Here is my first ever Mandalorian Fic, written for @propertyofdindjarin
(small remark, I used ur name so this is kind of Mando x reader but also not)
I am a huge star wars nerd so im happy you preferred a mando fic
Have fun reading!
summary: Din had a bad experience while hunting down a quarry, leaving him with his feelings clear.
wordcount: 2985
warnings: canon typical violence, kind of a near death experience, a little bit of angst but lots of fluff
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The ramp of the Razor Crest made a loud hissing noise when the hydraulics started to work on opening it. As the end of it reached the floor, the Mandalorian entered his ship. He seemed exhausted. He did not strut, as usual, his body language showed, this fight hadn’t been easy. He seemed like he even got hurt, more than usual. 
Mando grunted when he pulled the unconscious quarry up into his ship. He was in pain. This womprat he’d been hunting down was hard to catch and also a very good fighter. Well, not good enough. Din closed the ramp and hurled the quarry up into his carbonite chamber then he pressed the button to freeze him. Another job is done. Finally. 
He groaned quietly under his beskar helmet and let himself fall back against the wall. He wasn’t hurt badly but he was sore. He had been awake and going for a few days now, he needed food, water, and sleep. And maybe someone to hold onto. He was gone for a couple of long days and he was on edge. He liked being alone, but since he had the kid he realized how nice a little bit of company can be. He changed since he got the child that’s why this job was a little different. The job was a well-paying one. That was because the quarry was on a planet that was hard to get to. It was behind a big dangerous nebula. There were only a few people who were able to get to the other end alive and he was lucky that one of those people was willing to help him. His piloting was good but not good enough for the turbulence he might face in the nebula. Well for 50 percent of the bounty. That was a good deal. Even half of the money was enough for Din to buy food for him and his little friend, also to buy new fuel and new bullets for his pulse rifle since he was out of them.
The Mandalorian was too proud to admit it, he liked the pilot that was with him. She was a nice and beautiful young lady. She knew what she wanted and she got what she wanted. He remembers discussing the deal with her. She knew how to make a good deal, and she wasn’t intimidated by Din's appearance. Usually, people were acting different around him, some even being afraid of him. They heard the stories of Mandalore and its population. They heard of the strong beskar armor and Mandalorian combat skills. So Din usually gets what he wants. But that pilot...she wasn’t having it. 
“Look, I know you are an amazing hunter, but I’m just as good of a pilot, so that means we will split the bounty in half, no discussion needed,” she said while sipping away on her spotchka. Her eyes were challenging him, daring him to disagree with her.
“You will fly on my ship. And I will hunt down the quarry,” Din leaned forward looking straight into her eyes. “I don’t think 50/50 will work for me.”
She scoffed and shook her head. “My way or no way, Mando. You don’t know frag about that nebula. If you want to fly through it alone, do it. But lemme tell you even your beautiful beskar can’t save you. “
Din was a little angry at first but she then smiled at him, kind of mocking him but he was so lost in her beautiful face that he just sighed and jerked back as he caught himself staring. This helmet on his head was making his life easier.
The Mandalorian nodded and they shook hands. She wanted to invite him for a drink but he declined, as he always did. 
 Din sighed, back to his current situation. He and Rae had traveled a long time together, they got in some trouble with a few pirates and they had to shoot themselves out of it. They crashed on Teth and had to repair the Crest together, spending some nights sitting together and listening to the sounds coming from the jungle that was near, sharing some stories from their past. The child was always with them and the pilot got along with Din’s little friend. 
Even if this whole mission was kind of more than the Mandalorian signed up for, he enjoyed the company of the young pilot. When they finally arrived at the nebula Din realized why she wanted 50 percent of the money. She knew what she was doing, maneuvering the crest through the turbulences and clouds of gas. Maker, Din was lost, he had so many strong feelings about her and they all came crashing down on him while he was hunting down the quarry. He had tried to suppress his feelings for her. He didn’t even know what was going on. Stars, he never fell in love before, he was a loner. The youngling made him discover his soft side. At least under all that armor.
The quarry wasn’t easy to catch and Din nearly got into some bad trouble. His opponent nearly gained the upper hand at some point, leaving Din with an experience he can save into his album of “situations to avoid”. He had lost all his weapons except for his flame thrower and before he could even think of a way to get himself out of this situation, a strong cord had wrapped around his body leaving him unable to move his hands. He heard laugher, now knowing if it just was ringing in his ears from being hit so hard before, or if someone was laughing at him. The Mandalorian heard a vibroblade buzzing to life, he had opened his eyes to see his opponent, a nautolan, grinning, standing right in front of him.
“I’ve always wanted to kill a Mandalorian before.”
He stepped forward. Din tried to move but he realized, somehow the nautolan had wrapped up his whole body with cord, he couldn’t move his legs either, leaving him sitting on the floor and watching the nautolan stepping yet another step closer to him.
“I can even keep that amazing beskar to myself,” he murmured. He reached out with his hand, the blade touched the Mandalorians helmet with a metallic noise, ringing in Din’s ears. He was tense, still needed to collect himself, trying to seek his way out. He was a Mandalorian, he was raised his whole life with the knowledge that he will eventually die. It was nothing new to him, his whole life was living from day to day, not knowing how many of them are left for him. But right now he couldn’t accept that. There was this mission bigger than him and bigger than this quarry. The child. He needed the Mandalorians' help. He was his foundling, Din needed to come back to him. But there was even more. He had suddenly felt so lonely, kneeling on the floor, a vibroblade whirring right beside his head. The Beskar clad man was in love and nobody knew about it. He never had someone to kiss, to love. The pilot didn’t even know that Din was thinking about her, every damn minute, every day he woke up, hoping he would have the courage to tell her about his feelings for her. And he never did. 
The Mandalorian had snarled, this was not the end, he was not going to die like this. The adrenaline had shot up, into his system and Din had pushed his feet against the ground, falling forward with such force that he fell into his opponent. The nautolan had lost his balance and fell forward, the blade slipping out of his hand. Din caught it and cut himself loose, then he whirled around, jumped to his feet. He had kicked the green man right into his face with his boot, the nautolan had lost his consciousness immediately. 
That’s how he got the quarry back to his ship. Din was still trembling a little, after this experience, he was so happy to be back inside the Crest, back with his foundling and back with her. He groaned again and slipped down the wall, hitting the floor. His legs sprawled out, away from him he sat on the ground as a youngling would.
“Ni'm haryc”, he murmured to himself immediately feeling the exhaustion in his tired bones. 
***
You sat in the cockpit of the Crest, fiddling with your gloves and watching the child who was soundly asleep. You were nervous about the Mandalorian's return. He was acting differently around you since a few days ago and you were afraid that he was annoyed by you. His body language was always showing that he was nervous as if your company was something he was not used to and doesn't want to get used to. 
You sighed quietly and laid your beat-up gloves down. You really hoped that Mando was safe out there. You liked him more than you wanted to admit and him getting hurt on his daily adventures had you restless at night. Especially the last two days were hard. He was hunting down the quarry and you just had to wait for him. But hunting the quarry also meant flying back home and parting ways. You didn't want that to happen. You knew it was going to happen nevertheless but you felt the urge to kick something when you thought about leaving the Razor Crest and its amazing team. 
The Youngling was so cute and surprisingly good at keeping you company. You realized that you could even learn from him, in a way. 
And Mando, let's say it, you were into him. He was kind and polite, always trying to make your stay on the Crest comfortable. But you also liked his darker side that shot pirates and threw them off of his ship while it was in the air. He protected his family like he would protect his eyeball. 
You were ripped from your thoughts as you heard the hydraulic ramp slid down. Probably Mando, he was the only one besides you who had access to the Crests controls. Hopefully, it was him. You waited a few seconds. You heard steps and something hitting the wall. Then you heard the Carbonite chamber go off. Yep, it was Mando. He was back. 
"Kriff, finally," you whispered and got up from the pilot seat. The child was still asleep so you left him in his little pod. 
You slowly made your way down the ladder down to the cargo hold, as you reached the floor you saw the Mandalorian sitting on the floor, legs sprawled out like a child would seeming weak, exhausted, hurt. You were shocked at how weak he looked, you never saw him that way before. You looked at his muddy boots and his dirty armor, his cape was ripped apart and soaked in mud too. 
Mando looked like an injured Crayt Dragon, majestic but hurt, weak. Full of rage and fire but not able to use it anymore. He was panting his helmet leaned back against the wall, hands left weak beside his legs, his gloves also muddy. You started to panic. Is he okay?
“Are you okay, Mando?” you asked and made a step forward. Careful. 
He turned his head a little so his visor was facing you. 
“...No.” he pressed out. Even under that mud, his beskar was gleaming in the dim light of the Crests cargo hold. You were always kind of hypnotised by the way his armor reflected the lights. You knew that he knew it, he had caught you staring various times. But he had never mentioned it or called you out on it. It even seemed like he enjoyed it. You remember one time, as you were repairing his ship he caught you staring as he was welding some parts together and you were mesmerized at how beautiful the lightning bow was reflected by his beskar plates. He had turned around, looking at you stopping everything he was doing. 
You stared back right into his visor not being able to look away. He had tilted his head a little bit, so slowly as if he was grinning at you. You could only imagine but you knew he had a smug smirk going on under that damn helmet. You could just smirk back at him shrugging. 
He had chuckled, so softy, his shoulders shaking, just a little. Then he had turned back around and started welding again. 
“Kriff, Mando, what’s wrong, do you need help?” now really panicking as you got pulled back into reality.
“No,” he answered, again. 
Now you were just confused. What was wrong with him. He was acting weird and you didn’t know what to do. 
“What are you talking about…? I-” 
“Shhh.” he shushed you. “Don’t panic. I’m not hurt.” 
You relaxed a little, you weren’t very good at playing doctor and you knew that if Mando would get hurt bad, you wouldn’t be able to help him properly. Your shoulders dropped in relief.
“Maker, you were really scaring me. Don’t do that again Mando.” 
The Mandalorian chuckled. Him chuckling was very rare so you knew something was up. The last time you heard him chuckle was when he caught you staring.
“I am okay. I’m sorry for scaring you. I am kriffing sore.” he huffed, looking at his dirty boots and at the trail of mud he left on the floor. “I...I had a hard time. I- ...yeah.” he was stuttering. 
You looked at him questioningly. He still acted strangely.
You closed the small gap between the two of you and sat down in front of him with your legs crossed. His visor followed your movements. 
“You don’t seem okay to me, Mando.” you whispered looking at him,
You saw his shoulders rising, just a few millimeters, but far enough for you to know that you hit a nerve.
“I…” he paused again, slowly taking off his dirty gloves revealing his skin. You never saw him take anything off, this was the first time him showing you his skin. Oh boy, somethings coming.
He laid his gloves down between his legs, looking at them for a little too long as if he was still thinking, forming sentences in his head.
“Look, I had a hard time today. I nearly got into some...bad trouble and- “ he stopped and cleared his throat.
Your heart rate picked up on speed as he raised his head to look at you again. Your hands trembled a little but you realized he was too. He was nervous. 
“I just realized that if I died, I would die alone. Like, I mean I know the child would miss me but...I never had someone...special.” his helmet tiled down at his trembling hands again.
“Someone special?” your mouth was dry like kriffing Tattooine. Your heart was beating, you could even hear it, stars, Mando could probably hear it too.
“Yeah. I never thought about that stuff. I always liked being alone. But since….” he stopped again taking a deep breath. His voice was rough as he continued.
“...since I met...you, I realized how lonely I am.”
You didn’t know what to answer to that. You knew what he was trying to tell you but didn’t dare to help him out and say what you wanted to say. You were too nervous. You both sat in awkward silence for a few seconds which seemed endless.
“Look, I….you...you are special to me.” he gulped and looked up again. His voice was muffled, his vocoder having a hard time picking it up. But you heard him still.
“Mando...stars.” you felt your cheeks heat up. Hearing these words out of his mouth felt so strange. The Mandalorian, who was always short on words, telling you he had a crush on you. You didn’t know how to respond to that.
“I’m sorry.” he sighed and his gaze dropped again. “I shouldn’t have said that.” his shoulders dropped and he suddenly looked so small.
“No, no wait, Mando. I...you can’t imagine how...how. Oh well.” you never were good at feelings. “I am feeling the same...about you. It feels like you are my missing piece.”
As he looked up at you this time you could tell he gained his confidence back. 
“You know,” he started. “ You know, you were on my mind all the time as I was hunting down this womp rat.” he gestured to the frozen nautolan. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
You felt your cheeks heat up even more. You must look like an idiot as you were smiling at him. All those times you were thinking about him you didn’t know he was thinking about you too.
He suddenly held out his hand. His bare hand. No dirty Mando-Gloves with holes that had been stitched up poorly. His bare skin.
“Please take my hand, cyare.” he murmured.
You were surprised by his nickname for you, probably mando’a. You slowly reached out and gently took his hand. His skin was warm and soft just like you imagined it. As your fingers intertwined with yours he slowly and gently pulled you closer to him. You followed his movements until you were sitting awkwardly between his sprawled-out legs, very very close to him. He smelled like gunpowder.
He cradled both of your cold hands in his warm ones, his hands were so big next to yours. 
“My name is Din.” he breathed and even if his eyes were covered you knew he was looking deep into yours. You were surprised that he had told you his name, since it’s sacred, and hidden, like his face. 
“That’s a beautiful name.” You smiled. 
He chuckled and cradled your face with one hand while pulling your other hand down to his cold breastplate. 
 “Thank you, senaar.” 
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alovevigilante · 3 years
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Belief in one’s ability to create is the key to actually generating and experiencing it in 3D form. The brain creates the energy around the desire you feel. It’s a symbiotic relationship.
The reason why you may not be seeing your desires come to fruition in your three dimensional reality is because in some way, shape or form you, yourself, are holding it back in some capacity. How? And why? It could be one of a myriad of reasons.
One reason may be because although you may think you want it, you’re not really feeling it completely. You may be afraid to change into the new reality, and tend to lean towards the older, less desired, but easier because already established one. Like, for example not switching jobs because you are comfortable where you are. You can’t stand your boss, cause he/she/they are an ass, and ask ludicrous things of you daily that are ridiculous and no one should comply with, but, you’re used to it, and you like your cubicle and the hot lunch in the cafeteria, that serves meatloaf on Thursdays, and that’s pretty ok. So, you choose to stay in a situation you aren’t fully down with. And you know what?! The pay blows, and you feel under appreciated, but yet you still continue to hang out in that ass place regardless, cause you know how to get there, even though it’s a 2 hr commute there and back. And that’s cool and all, but not really a reason to stay, but for you, it may be. You may be afraid to navigate the city, to a new location, because Mapquest sent you on a wild goose chase one time, and you ended up in an industrial area with no outlet, when you were trying to get to an important meeting. That can happen. I know, it’s happened to me. And that’s why google maps trounced mapquest. And waze did too. I don’t even know if people use mapquest anymore, because yes, it sends you on a quest alright, but not necessarily the one you signed up for in advance. And that can upset your apple cart greatly, cause you already had the plan! The plan was set! But you are lost now, in an unestablished, incomplete part of town with no one there to guide you out, ok?! And you call where you want to be, and say, “I’m not there! I’m here! And here is ass! Ok!?” But no one answers, cause they’re busy being there, and not in the abandoned, desolate crap area, where you are, by no fault of your own. And you have to call someone yelling, because lost, and where the hell are you?! And it takes you fifty two minutes later, and a tangible map and live navigator, like Keith Richards in pirates of the Caribbean, but on land, not see, and not him, cause he’d probably lead you on a disastrous seafaring mission where you would develop scurvy, but at least you’d get to listen to a decent guitar lick before you die of dysentery, when really wanted to do was to get out of the craziest wilderness that has been given up on, in an urban area.
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Cause you found a place, much like Christopher Columbus the director didn’t, that hasn’t been discovered on the map yet, and there you are! And people are counting on you to be in their place at a certain time, and not this barren place, with construction all over creation and tumble weeds that aren’t there cause it’s the city. So what do you do?! I said, what is it that you do?!?!?? You stay, in your tried and true, marginally ok place, and don’t try to move. It can happen...
Another reason may be because some things that you are choosing to partake in, in your 3D life are contradictory to the desire you believe you want. For example, you may want to be an exotic birdwatcher for a living. But you don’t live near anywhere near the exotic birds. You don’t even own a pith helmet or a pair of binoculars. And you don’t have any link to anyone that will hire you to do that, nor do you have any experience or association that would appreciate and hire you for said experience, who would also, in addition to that if you did, fly you to where the exotic birds you want to study, reside. And you refuse to buy the plane ticket yourself! So you mope, and you pout, and you say, “you know what?! I didn’t like those ole exotic birds anyway! Who do those birds think they are? With their feathers and pretty colors?! Screw them!” I mean, how’s a bird supposed to know you’re interested in them?! They can’t go to you, nutball! They’re busy being birds! So, you’re SOL, and it sucks, cause all you want to do is look at and engage in some exotic birds action. But again, you are choosing not to take steps to get near one.
And the third reason may be, because you don’t really believe you’re worthy of being happy. And that’s just ass thinking, cause everyone, is entitled and worthy of that.
All of these things, are bs. You are a creator of your own life with your feelings. So make, deliberate choices to feel good. And by that I don’t mean to mask the feelings by something that may placate the feelings of lack you decided to focus on, and feel better just in the moment, then worse later. I mean, make a conscious choice to feel better than you do right now. And do that, as much as humanly possible, and not the other crap choices that just hinder you in the end.
Creating your reality is a constant, and needs attention to detail, and clarity. The universe refuses to outright give you what it knows won’t light you up, but if you continue to contradict your own desires, it’ll throw up its hands and allows you to experience your own chosen ass flow or, in this case your resistance to your own desires, to be your reality you see through your perception, and that’s what you will experience daily. And I must definitely have have a dragging defiance to a lot of things, because here I sit, discussing all of it, and there’s still things in my life I’d like to see happen, and not just ruminate around in my head as “what if’s”. Like, for example, I’d like a few millions of dollars, a lot of few, like at least over 20, so I can help a ton of people, and myself to things I enjoy, like creative freedom, and the ability to choose my own path in life. I’d also like to pay for my boob lift, no. Ahahaha! Cause they’re ok, and I’ve decided to be cool with them, as they lower themselves down to belly button level, to defend it from countertops and other things that I may lean on from time to time... and other important things like that.
So my long winded and long boobed point is this; being you is great, no matter what your situation. You know why? Cause you’re literally making your life what it is with how you see it, and how you choose to feel about it. And yes, you can switch it up! What an awesome place to be! You’ve made your life, terrible! Which means you’re In the drivers seat of your own life! You did that! You decided, my life sucks! And you see it, in everything and in everyone you talk too! Then you open a window and yell outside, “Yes!!!!! I did that!!!!!! I made my life blow like joe!” Which means to you that you can decide every decision you make from here on out differently with a better, more positive energy. To others, they may witness that and think you’re ready for the booby hatch, cause they won’t know the context of your exclamation. But that’s none of your concern. You did it! You figured out that you can decide closer, or farther away from what you want. And the more you move towards you truth, the better you’ll feel. And that feeling will take you all kinds of places and put you in front of all kinds of fun people doing amazing things you never thought possible! And you, are the one feeling, and thinking and doing your way to it! You choose better and better, and before you know it, your ok life has turned pretty damn good, to super great! And so on, and so forth. And on and on and on we go, experiencing exactly how we want to feel minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, month by month, and year by year, happier and better, and healthier and wealthier and wiser and more crazy and fun and silly and artsier and more and more creative and in the love til poof! You explode into another higher dimension because you’re so happy with everyone everywhere, and it’s all due to your thoughts. 🙌💕
That’s life. Pretty cool.... But you gotta believe it. Then from there it’s all about the inspired action, Jackson... 🤷‍♀️😉😆💪💕
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elizabeethan · 3 years
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Time and Time Again- Part 2
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Follow up to Time and Time Again because I have no self control! Killian’s POV of when they get home from Neverland.
Thanks to @the-darkdragonfly for enabling me and then editing this.
Rated a very soft M... I guess.
Part 2/2 (now it’s complete)
~3400 words
Read on Ao3
Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones​ @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64​ @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89​ @swampmedusa @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy​ @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says​ @snowbellewells @hollyethecurious​ @ouatpost​ @daxx04 @the-darkdragonfly @donteattheappleshook
If you want me to add or remove you from my tag list please tell me!!
She’s the strongest woman he’s ever known. Of course, Milah was a fierce lass with fire in her heart, but there’s something about Emma Swan that seems to blow Milah’s disposition out of the water.
Perhaps it’s the way she defeated one of the most cunning and menacing foes he’s ever known. That must be it. The way he’d tried to do it years ago, using sheer violence and residual anger, hadn’t even come close to working. Meanwhile, this bloody woman succeeds in a matter of weeks.
He loves her; he can deny it no longer.
She’s the smartest person he’s ever known. Her instinct is almost always correct and he hasn’t had a single moment in which he doesn’t trust her to the fullest extent.
So he isn’t sure why no one seems to be listening to her.
He’s surprised when she comes to him. It’s not with the intention of confiding in him, but it isn’t a difficult bridge to cross before she is. “There’s something wrong with Henry,” she tells him, voice soft and scared and desperate. She looks so small across the hall from him as she hugs herself. “I don’t know what, but…”
“Alright, Swan,” he tries, hoping to comfort her, reaching through the space between them to touch his hand to her shoulder but careful not to get too close. “We’ll sort this out.”
He can’t move past the look of surprise on her face when he promises this, as if she’s shocked that someone would offer to help her- believe her.
Rumplestiltskin defeats Peter Pan- his father, apparently- but the curse has already been cast and cannot be stopped. It’s determined that nothing can be done, save for Regina casting her own curse and bringing everyone back to the Enchanted Forest.
Everyone but Henry.
But not to worry, Emma escaped the first curse, so she can stay here with him.
And Killian wants to kick and scream and revert back to the man he once was, not too long ago. The crocodile died a somewhat noble death, effectively taking away his chance at revenge, but it would’ve been alright. Because he would’ve had a chance to love Emma Swan and he suspects that would’ve been endlessly better than revenge.
And now she’s leaving.
And she’s crying again.
And he knows he won’t survive this.
“That’s quite the vessel you captain, Swan,” he says in a pathetic attempt to distract from the pain he’s feeling.
She laughs in a way that tells him this hurts her too, and his assumptions are confirmed when she leans in close to him and draws him into a tight hug. “I don’t want to do this alone,” she whispers against him.
He squeezes her back then pulls away to wipe a tear off of her cheek. He feels weak, but she needs strength, so he digs deep. “You aren’t alone, love,” he whispers back. “You have Henry, and we’ll all be with you, here.” He points to her heart, feeling the violent pace it takes as it slams in her chest.
She chokes and sniffles but says nothing, so he supplies, “there’s not a day will go by I won’t think of you,” and he means it more than he’s ever meant anything.
Through tears and strangled breaths she says, “good,” and supplies him with a smile that will surely haunt his dreams.
He wants to kiss her. He’s not sure he can live with the memory of her lips on his and with the knowledge that it will never happen again. But her family is here and he thinks they know naught of their dalliances on the island, so he holds back.
Regina talks of giving Emma and Henry memories that aren’t real to numb the pain of the loss they’ll feel. He’s glad that they won’t remember losing their family- that Emma won’t remember losing her parents again- but he feels jealousy. Forgetting her would be so much easier.
But as he watches her cross the town line in her yellow contraption and the curse whisks them away, back to Misthaven, he knows he wouldn’t trade loving Emma Swan for anything in the world.
~~~~
Six months pass painfully. Killian Jones knows loss, he’s experienced plenty of it in his centuries of life, and this is no easier. The loss of a love not yet bloomed is almost worse than the pain he felt when he lost Milah. At the end of the day, he knew what they had and how they changed each other. He wishes he could have that luxury with Emma.
His crew tries desperately to help him move on. Of course, none of them know the pain he feels and why, but he’s certain that they can sense a change in their captain. He tries to move on as well, attempting to pirate distant lands and pillage royal carriages, but nothing seems to distract from what’s always on his mind.
At month eight, they buy him a night with a woman- a brown-haired lass who stirs nothing in him. He pays her off and ignores the look of confusion on her face as he walks through the streets. The mermaid finds him, threatens him with a blade to his throat if he doesn’t help her, and he can’t fight the thoughts of a love lost that sprout in his mind. He can’t walk away without helping her because, as he painfully realizes, he knows how she feels. She at least has a chance to get her love back.
But then he thinks having the Jolly back will cure him of his ailments of the heart, so he behaves foolishly and throws Blackbeard overboard. It serves him right, truthfully, for stealing a man’s ship. But then the mermaid asks him if true love is worth more than a few planks of wood and a sail, and he knows that it is. He also knows that his love is lost from him, so a few planks of wood and a sail is all that he has and all that he’ll ever have again.
The bird that lands on his helm is a surprise, and the note attached to her leg even more so. Another curse is coming, and Emma’s family needs her. It’s the first time he’s seen her name outside of his mind’s eye and his heart constricts in his chest, thumping painfully against his ribs. He thinks of her when he thinks of his ribs, of how she diagnosed them broken in the street and celebrated silently when she was proven correct, and wonders how morbid of a thought that is.
A curse swept through Misthaven, making travel between realms possible again. The only problem is that he’s essentially destroyed any sense of trust between himself and the fire-haired mermaid who could make him a portal, so he must find another way. The thought of giving his ship back to Blackbeard, who was apparently saved by the siren, causes an ache in his chest that rivals the one he’s been feeling for the last year. But the thought of missing out on the chance to help Emma, to see her again, blows that pain away and it’s the easiest decision he’s ever made. So he takes the bean and thinks of her when he tosses it to the ground. He’s never felt so hopeful.
~~~~
She knees him in the groin. It’s poetic, really, the way he tries True Love’s Kiss with her and she shoves him out the door without a hint of remembrance. But he knew it was a long shot. True Love’s Kiss doesn't work when one person doesn't remember the other. Perhaps it’s foolish for him to believe that she loves him.
He watches as she struggles to answer the scrawny, unkempt man’s proposal. He wonders if it’s because of what he said to her, but he tries not to get his hopes up. He’s missed the fire in her voice, the sarcasm dripping from every word, more than he could have possibly imagined.
She still doesn’t believe him despite having proof, and he shouldn’t be surprised when she chains him up again. He wonders fleetingly how many pairs of these handcuffs she owns as the officers haul him off and lock him in the brig. He’s been in worse, of course, but then they try and give him their strange meat and he knows he must escape.
He’s just started working on his plan, wondering about the strength of the metal bars holding him in place and wishing he had his hook, when an officer opens the cage and sets him free. “You made bail,” she tells him, and Killian wonders what the bloody hell that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t waste the opportunity. Once he’s outside, he sees her golden hair and knows everything will be alright.
And she believes him. She believes him! It’s almost too good to be true. She struggles with the decision, but he sees the moment that it’s made in her eyes. The moment she reaches for the vial in his fingers, her own grazing his and lighting a fire in him, and pulls it to her mouth. He sees her take a deep breath and prepare herself for all that is about to change for her.
What he doesn't see is the man rushing by them, bumping into her back and causing her to drop the vial at their feet and destroy its contents. “No,” she says softly, sadly, as she looks down at the broken glass. “I was going to…”
She looks up into his eyes and he sees the same pain that was on display a year ago, when they lost each other. She looks lost and confused and disappointed at the idea of losing the chance to know herself again. She knows there’s something wrong, and she was moments from finding out exactly what it is before her opportunity was crushed at her feet. He can’t stand to see this look on her face.
“Come, love,” he says, offering her his hand which she takes easily. He isn’t sure where they're going, but he can't sit idly by and not make an effort to sooth her worries. “Let’s get out of the street,” he suggests.
She nods, pulling on his hand and leading him down the busy pavement as they weave through other pedestrians until they arrive at her building. He’s let in by her this time, doesn’t have to sneak in through the nearly closing door behind someone, and, once they get out of the metal death trap, he watches her take out a set of keys and open up her apartment door. She lets him in without a second thought and sets her things down, dropping onto the couch with a huff.
“This is… it’s too much,” she finally says after moments of silence.
He steps closer to the couch she rests on, her knees pulled to her chin and her arms hugging herself tightly, but does dare sit down. “I’m sorry,” he says uselessly.
“It’s just that I… I feel like there's something wrong. Like something has always been off, but I've always just denied it. And just now, I was so ready to take that step and find out what my life is supposed to be. And then it just slipped through my fingers.”
“I wish I could fix this,” he says helplessly. “We needed to get back to your family, Emma. They need you and I… I need you.”
Her brows pinch together and she releases her legs, standing quickly and looking as though she wants to walk over to him. “I don't know what we—” she stops herself pensively. “If we have some kind of history, or whatever. But it’s like… it’s like I trust you somehow. And I was looking forward to swallowing that shit and finding out why I trust you so much. And you’re telling me I have to help my family, and even though I’ve never had one, I still believe you. And now knowing that I’ll never have the chance… it hurts so much, and I can’t put into words why.”
She’s crying again. He can’t stop himself from stepping closer to her and taking her hand in his, pulling her as close to him as he can without actually touching his body to hers. All he wants is to hold her until her pain is gone. “I’m so sorry, love,” he says softly, and at the sound of his voice, he can feel her melting closer to him. “I wish I could fix this for you. All I want is to take away your pain; I wish I could bear it for you.”
“I just want to know you,” she says, sinking closer until her forehead is pressed to his chest, and he wants to squeeze her like he did in Neverland. “I wish I knew who you were to me.”
“I’m yours,” he answers easily.
Her arms are around him and there’s no better feeling, until the pain of knowing that it isn’t her, not fully, sets in. He has to squeeze her to keep his tears at bay. “It doesn't make any sense,” she whispers again. “How I can feel this way about someone I don’t know— someone I don’t even remember ever knowing?”
“We did much together, you and I,” he says fondly. “We made quite the team.”
“What happened to us?”
“I lost you,” he whispers painfully, the words burning his throat on their way out. “For a year I suffered thinking I would never see you again. And then I found you, and, well…” He trails off, thinking of their first meeting and the damage she did to his pride and to his groin.
She lets out a small chuckle against his chest, rustling the hairs slightly as she does so, and says, “sorry about that. But you were just some stranger and you kissed me!”
“Aye, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why did you?”
He falters just slightly before deciding to take the chance, unsure if the consequences of his honesty truly bother him. “It was a long shot. I was hoping the kiss would work to break… Well, I suppose I just hoped you felt as I do.”
She pulls away from him just a bit so that she can look into his eyes from below him. She looks so small from this angle and he wants nothing more than to protect her; scoop her up in his arms and hold her close so that nothing can touch her. “How’s that?”
With a soft, sad smile, he says simply, “I love you.”
Emma cocks her head pensively, looking sad and dejected, but also hopeful. “I’m—” she starts, shaking her head. “I don’t know why, but I…”
She cannot answer him with words, it seems, and instead, she leans forward towards him and slips up onto her toes, holding her arms around him a bit harder to keep her balance. He wishes he could pause this moment while also letting it play out; perhaps if he could relive it again and again, he would be content. Her lips find his and it’s as if there’s an explosion between them, a vibrant burst of rainbow light brightening the room as she slips her fingers into his hair and pulls him closer.
“Killian,” she mumbles against his mouth, though he struggles to pull away from her after a year of knowing he would never see her again. He separates them minutely, his lips still grazing hers slightly as he whispers her own name back to her. “Did we just…?”
He can hardly think of the words that leave her mouth because it’s still so close to his. Rather than responding, he kisses her once more and revels in the feeling of her lips massaging his as she kisses him back. “Aye,” he says against her, keeping her as close as possible.
“I remember,” she whispers into his mouth, and she’s pulling away and looking gleefully confused. “That kiss…?”
“All curses can be broken, love,” he tries to reason.
Expecting to be met with panic and denial, he’s shocked to see some semblance of acceptance in her eyes as she says, “with True Love’s Kiss.”
He smiles at her and cups her cheek in his palm. “You don’t need to say anything, darling. Having you back with me is enough.”
She shocks him more still when she tugs him back to her, her lips crashing into his and her tongue seeking access to his mouth immediately. While their last kiss was soft and slow, this one is wanton and desperate, as if she can’t get him close enough to her.
They should be focused on getting her and Henry back to Storybrooke. Whether their kiss broke the memory curse that made her forget her family, or the Dark Curse that brought them back to the Land Without Magic, he isn’t sure. It’s something they should be trying to figure out. But it’s impossible to focus on that when Emma Swan pulls Killian Jones onto her couch without breaking her lips from his.
She doesn't ever stop kissing him. Not when she pushes his greatcoat off of his shoulders; not when she tugs his blouse over his head; not when she whispers “I love you,” into his mouth. Not when she wipes moisture off of his cheeks before it drips onto her own.
Eventually they break apart, but it’s only when his own lips start to travel down her chin, along her throat, to her exposed chest. She only allows that for so long, sealing them back together and letting him swallow her moan as his fingers find her center. His tongue traces his love for her against her clit until she’s writhing beneath him and begging him to make her his. Obliging, he slides into her easily, fitting perfectly between her thighs and inside her tight core. Their foreheads never part as they make love to each other slowly, with a gentle force that expresses just how one feels about the other.
They reach a precipice together, and he lets himself fall off the edge of the cliff he’s been hanging off of for the last year without her, plunging into the depths of what it is to love her and holding her the whole way down. He’ll never let go again.
There’s a knock on the door hours later, while they’re still bare and covered in only a small blanket. Their time spent sleeping and talking and holding each other and making love some more had to come to an end eventually, and Emma’s realization of who is at the door knocks them back into reality. “It’s Walsh, Henry invited him,” she explains as if he knows who that is, and she stirs from his hold on her.
He tries to pull her so that her back stays put against his chest, but she giggles and pinches his side until he lets go, slipping out from under the small blanket and reaching for her shirt before he can get another good look at her. “I can get rid of him,” he offers.
“No, my memories may not be real, but he is; I at least want to let him down easy.”
He puts the pieces together as he gets dressed himself, only after watching her walk out the door with a promise to return. Walsh must be the man who proposed to her the other night. A sense of worry sets over him as he considers the worst possible outcome. The fact that she could decide to stay with him and send Killian away. Though he doesn't get much of a chance to let this scenario play out in his mind, because he hears a crash from above and rushes upstairs to see Emma alone on the roof, panting and holding a pipe in her hand.
She hurries towards him once he opens the door, crashing into his hold and saying, “I was never safe.”
If there’s one thing he vows now, it’s that she will never feel this way again. He whispers into her ear as they walk down the stairs that they’ll take care of this. They’ll go back to Storybrooke and deal with the threats as they’ll do everything else for as long as she allows: together.
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wannabeauthorclive · 3 years
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[Image ID: Dark blue banner of the ocean with four pirate ships saying “Over Land and Sea” with “Camp NaNo WIP Update” underneath. End ID]
I have been really bad at giving updates about how nano is going for me. I said I would do one of these every Sunday, that failed. I’m only doing this one because I finished!! I did it! I hit my goal!!
Project — Over Land and Sea
End Goal — 30,000 words
Daily Goal — 1,000 words
Total written — 30,162 words
Overall Notes — I’m absolutely loving this project and how it’s coming along! It has been difficult juggling all my characters, by it’s a struggle I am willing to do. I also made Desmond a protag (along with Black and Silver) cause I love him too much not to, and it fits the story. I was able to reach my daily goal almost every day and I’m really proud of that! Some days were definitely harder than others, but that’s ok, it’s all part of the journey. I’m changing a lot from my initial outline so I’m glad I kept it in a way that I could change it if I wanted. 
Thank you every single one of you -- I don’t think I could have made it this far without you. You’re all wonderful friends and are so so supportive and I love you! Thank you!
~~~ Four of my favorite scenes under the cut! ~~~
Desmond’s POV
He looks over at Captain Black, still a good fifty feet away, and sends her a wicked, wicked smile. For a split second, he could see the panic in her eyes before it’s gone again, wiped away and leaving the Captain Black everyone knows and either hates or loves. She shoots him a wicked grin of her own and his smile falters before returning full force. This will be fun.
He would go and greet her halfway, but alas, he must stay in-between the crew and the ship. She walks right up behind her crew and moves to stand in front of them defensibly. Her posture never sways and her face never softens as she stares at Desmond. Part of him thinks she’s staring into his soul, which is impossible. Impossible.
“We haven’t gotten the chance to properly introduce ourselves.” Desmond starts, holding out his hand. Captain Black doesn’t take it, doesn’t even glance at it. He withdraws his hand, nodding in acceptance of the refusal. “I am Desmond Ponsa.”
Captain Black’s crew’s eyes go even wider while Captain Black herself just snarls. “I know exactly who you are, Ponsa.”
Silver Sterling’s POV 
The newspaper. That’s how she found out about Black in the first place, no letters from her or Desmond, and certainly no espionage agent. Could the press be able to track pirate better than a chase could? Someone who has seen the Queen of the Seas lately would sure to report it for good money, and people pay good money for information. But if she tracked Viras’s press, she’d have to catch Captain Black before she moved on. Would Silver be fast enough?
She straightens in the tub, her relaxed posture fully gone. Maybe if she was already moving, maybe if she could find where the Captain would probably stop for supplies. It’d be a wild goose chase, trying to find a pirate. It’s a wild goose chase trying to find someone who has roots, but a pirate? It’s nearly impossible.
That’s what she loves doing, though. The impossible. Proving people were wrong to say she couldn’t do something. That’s what she has been told her whole life. “You can’t do that.” “Only men are able to do that.” “Berian women don’t do that, it doesn’t fit with society.”
And every single one of those things people told her she couldn’t do, she did. That’s one reason why she loved her sister, she didn’t even ask if she could do something or not. She just did them and by the time people could tell her she couldn’t do that, she had already gone and done it.
“The impossible is only impossible to those who are afraid.” Her sisters voice whispers in her ear. That was her motto, said before every risky thing they did. And the words solidified Silver’s idea further.
Captain Black’s POV (TW: mental health problems, serious anxiety)
“No, no, no. No.” Black repeats, her voice quavering but leaving no room for argument. Leaving the wheel, not seeing her crew, not watching for the National Guard, not commanding her ship would be sure to send her into a panic attack. If her anxiety is getting to hard for her to captain her ship properly, she shouldn’t be here at all.
But whatever happens, she’s not gonna let her anxiety and memory blackouts take control over her and dictate wether she is capable of captaining her ship. She’s gonna find a way to put an end to all of it before it gets to that point. Black won’t risk the safety of her crew but she won’t give up being captain unless she is fully incapable. And that’s not gonna be any time soon.
“Black!” Black jerks out of her stupor. “Black, god, you can’t do that.” Ironside whispers, relief and worry and scared blanketing her tone. “You’re here one moment and not the next and something has to change. We can’t be in battle and that happening.” She says forcefully.
This is why Black loves Ironside, she doesn’t step around anything. Straight to the point. Black doesn’t respond, she just keeps staring out over the sea. Waiting for the National Guard give a surprise attack on this bright and cloud-free, sunny day.
Ironside sighs. Her friend’s mind is breaking. It has been for a long while, this is the first time any of them noticed it though. She glances behind her at the faces of the crew, gathered around to see if their captain, friend, and family is alright. A spike of guilt hits her, she should have seen it. But none of them did and now, now Black is paying the price.
It’s like Black’s sanity is slipping out of her fingers like sand and it’s so hard to watch. So, so hard. But she has to, it may be the only way she can help.
Captain Black’s POV (TW: violence, death)
A quick second is all it takes for Black to notice the pistol aimed at Lakoma’s head. A quick second for Black to realize that blood is gonna be split. Not their blood, not if Black can help it. And by God, she can help it. She isn’t losing anyone today. A borderline wicked smile replaces her grin and with a flick of a wrist, two daggers are in her hands.
She sees the panic in her crew’s eyes as the entire Viras Treasury surrounds them. Too many people. They’ve never fought this many before. “Keep going!” She screams at them. She has. She’s fought this many people.
Another flick of the wrist and the dagger is flying through the air. It finds its target in the belly of  the same guard with his pistol aimed at Lakoma and another dagger is flying. Another dagger, another guard down.
Tons of weapons can be hidden among the folds of her dress and Black is ever grateful for her weapons. Two more daggers come out, two more daggers hit their mark. One in a throat, one in an eye.
Out of the corner of her eye, Braveheart is beating down one after another soldier, Lakoma is throwing daggers faster than Black can see while gun shots ring out from Tonya.
If only Captain Black had her Cutlass sword, this would all be much easier. She is unstoppable with her sword, no one can get out of her way. But alas, her sword is a size too big to fit in her dress.
A moment in her head and a guard was able to get too close. He throws his weight into his rapier to slice her — obviously not well trained, rapiers are stabbing weapons, not slashing ones — and she quickly ducks under him. With a swift kick to the balls, his rapier is now hers and she demonstrates how you really use a rapier. A stab though the gut. Or heart, but she goes at the gut. The pain lasts longer.
Taglist: @baguettethebooklover @a-completely-normal-writer @mel-writes-with-her-dragons @hysteriwah @tiredlittleoldme @the-writing-avocado @vellichor-virgo @radiomacbeth @wildwrites @crowewritesstuff @crystallized-ink​ @strangerays​ @47crayons @ladywithalamp (ask to be +/-)
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fluffypeachwriting · 3 years
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hiyaaa~~
its me, the hitoya and reader getting transported to some unknown place! im rlly happy that u had fun writing it and i enjoyed reading it too! ٩(*•͈ ꇴ •͈*)و ̑̑❀
hehe u mentioned that u would be more than happy to write a sequel and oh my gosh id like to take up on that offer!! huhuu~ im already invested on what would happen to hitoya and the reader, and what theyre gonna do!!
thank you for writing my request and ill be waiting on for the sequel of it! good luck and im wishing you good health now and in the future! (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)
I’m sorry that you had to wait so long for this, but it’s finally finished! This sequel turned out to be around 3700 words, so I hope you don’t mind that! I had so much fun with this concept, and so I hope you like reading it! Maybe I’ll do more isekai concepts in the future - I’m so happy that you requested this!  (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧
Let’s get back to what Hitoya and Reader are up to! Maybe they’re alone on the boat, but are they alone in the water?
When you had stopped crying, you and Hitoya tried to investigate this strange boat. The unease of being thrown into a new world slowly morphed into a strong curiosity. It took about an hour for you to find your sea legs. It was surprisingly easy to get used to the swaying. The occasional movements you had to make to counteract that swaying came naturally to you.
An unexpected calm washed over the boat, and it became easier to think. Only for you though, Hitoya hadn’t said much in a while. In a strange change of heart, Hitoya had warmed up to life on a boat, in his own way. Either that or he was bored of complaining about it. There was a rugged-looking crewmate’s jacket folded over one of the seats inside the ship, which he took a liking too right away. It fit him perfectly, and while the pirate-y look wasn’t his usual deal, it certainly did him favours.  
You had also found something – a pocket watch that had been dropped on the top deck. You were keeping an eye on it, checking on it constantly until an hour had passed. At least, the hour hand had moved from six to seven – that was the only change. The sun hadn’t moved, the air was still brisk, and the sea still looked like red wine.
You sighed and put the watch back. Hitoya was looking over into the sea, thought you couldn’t tell if he was searching for something or simply contemplating things. Usually you wouldn’t hesitate to ask him what was wrong, and usually he would smile and pat your head, saying that everything was alright. But things were not like how they usually were. You thought it was best to leave him alone and stay close by.
In your other hand you were still holding that unusual hat, and until now you hadn’t paid it much mind. There wasn’t any need to, until a harsh gust of wind caught you off guard and knocked it out of your hand.
“No!” You instinctively yelled out, reaching to grab the hat.
Inches from sliding into Hitoya’s legs, you fell flat on your stomach and caught the hat.
“That was close,” You said, standing up and putting on the hat without thinking. Then the unease in your stomach vanished. The salty air felt natural to breathe in, like it was cleansing you from the inside out. A sense of purpose filled you, and the boat felt like home.
“Nice hat you got there, captain.” Hitoya said endearingly, though with a hint of sarcasm. “Where’d you find that?”
“I didn’t find it anywhere, it’s just mine,” You said without thinking. That was surely wrong, since you didn’t have a captain’s hat on you at all this morning. Wait, a captain’s hat? You patted it, and sure enough, it was just like a captain’s hat you’d see in a cartoon.
“Makes you look the part.” Hitoya smiled fondly, making the last shred of unease float away. If he had your back, then everything really would be alright, even in this crazy situation.
With the unease gone, your mind was clear enough to realise how exhausted you were. It was only just this morning when you woke up early to buy Hitoya a cake. That cake sounded really good right now. You were hungry too.
“Hungry… I hope the wind doesn’t pick up… don’t wanna eat when the ship is moving too much,” You said to yourself.
However, life wasn’t so kind, apparently. The sails of the ship started flapping quickly, almost enough to make you jump. A box came from nowhere and slid on the deck, lightly hitting your leg. “Geez…” You held onto your hat pre-emptively, expecting wind.
A moment passed, but no wind came.
“Kid, let’s put this back.” Hitoya knelt down to move the box, but stopped. “Hm.”
“What is it?” You bent down to see what he was curious about. It wasn’t a sight that stopped him, but a smell. It took no time to figure out what it was, in your hungry state, “Food!”
Pushing past Hitoya, you opened the box to find it full of yummy-looking snacks and treats, from sweet pastries to homemade bentos. They were all fresh, too.
“Where did this come from?” You asked into the air.
Hitoya didn’t reply. The ship did. You looked up to see the sails flapping again, and the crow’s nest twirling around. The ship was…
“Alive?!” You exclaimed, already munching on a croissant.
“Hey, are you sure that’s safe?”
“Mm!” It tasted like it was fresh out of the oven.
“Alright, I won’t stop you.” Hitoya threw up his hands and stood, not taking anything from the box.
So this was a magic ship with a magic food box. You thought about this, pacing around the ship while munching on more food, until a glimmer of something caught your eye.
Something shiny had been dropped onto the deck. You went to pick it up, and found that the water was also shiny. Flecks of water surrounding the shiny thing, which was sitting in a pool of glitter, though it didn’t look as artificial as plastic glitter. It was a ring, just a plain silver band, with lots of little scuffs and scratches around it. A voice in the back of your mind told you that it was safe to pick it up, so you did. The water was fine to touch, and the ring itself was normal.
Something was also caught on the inside of the ring, something small, thin, flat, and a little bit curved. It took you a moment to get it out without breaking it. Though, when you got it out, none of your questions were answered. It looked like a holographic fish scale. Tinges of blue and purple reflected off it, in such a way that you could have mistaken it for a precious gem. It felt too hard to be from a normal fish, but then again, you were in no normal land – or, water.
A ring and a fish scale. It seemed like the more time you spent here, the more questions needed to be answered. However, it was something to go off. Before you could form a coherent thought, it was all coming back to you, or at least you would be thinking that if you had been here before.
You quickly looked around to relay this exciting development to Hitoya but he was nowhere to be found. After a frantic search, you found him looking through a cabinet inside what was probably a kitchen.
“We have to look for the water that sparkles. That’s right, we’re here to look for something.” The weight of the captain’s hat got a little lighter.
“Huh?” Hitoya looked at you like you had lost your mind. He shut the cabinet (that seemed to have whisky bottles lined up inside) and faced you. “What’re you on about now?”
You held out the ring to him, “This is a clue. It hadn’t been dropped on the deck by someone on the ship – someone in the water threw it on.”
“There’s not gonna be anyone in that water alive. There’s no one for miles. Are you sure you didn’t hit your head or something?”
He wasn’t ready to humour you just yet.
“I’m sure! This ring is totally a clue, you have to believe me! We were sent here for a purpose!” In your other hand, you showed him the scale, “And this is our way out!”
“Haah, I hate to burst your bubble but, are you really sure you didn’t hit your head? What if we go the same way we came, with a candle. It’s crazy but it’s not out the blue like that – wait, let me see that ring.” Hitoya, with his brow suddenly furrowed in concentration, took the ring from you and examined it. “Tch. I hate to say it, but I think I recognise this ring. I dunno if I like what it implies though…”
“What is it what is it what is it?!” Hearing about this was very exciting. “Your captain orders you to tell me!”
“Heh. Don’t get used to that, kid. Well, this ring looks like it belongs to someone we know. I don’t think we’re the only ones out here.”
“Get to the point!”
“You really can be like my kid,” Hitoya mumbled, “Alright. This looks like Kuko’s ring.”
“What?!”
“It’s a shot in the dark but, yeah. It’d be nice to see those two again, rather than bein’ stuck here.” Hitoya rubbed the back of his neck.
“Aww. Maybe you miss them.”
“Hmph. I’m not saying any more on that.” He crossed his arms, then spoke with a little more energy in his voice, clearly wanting to shift the subject: “Any leads on your end, captain?”
“I’ve got no clue. I… I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t fall overboard. I’m not jumpin’ in after you.” Hitoya said, knowing that he actually would jump in.
“Gotcha.” You left, going out to the deck to look around.
The sun was high in the sky, raining down an intense heat – it was about midday. As you stepped out, a gentle breeze blew away the cobwebs. The afternoon air was nice, although it was not helpful. It had been midday for a few hours. But the last time you saw the sky it was still orange, and you were sure that the sun had been setting. None of this made sense.
“Sparkly water, what does that even mean?” You pondered, pacing around the deck.
The ring and the scale sat in your pocket. You closed your eyes and focused on the smooth surface of the scale, trying to figure out what it all meant. As captain, leading the ship to its destination was your job, and it was even more important to keep your crew in check. That was hard to do when you didn’t know what you were here for.
“And a ring was thrown onto the deck. Even if it’s not Kuko’s, that’s pretty weird.”
Waves gently crashed against the side of the ship, which had been smoothly sailing itself for a while. A soft wind pushed the sails forward. The ocean was endless, with no islands in sight. There weren’t even any other ships. The horizon was visible from all angles, and from all sides. All except near the back. There was an odd contraption laying there, and upon further inspection, you had idea what it was. It looked like an old washtub connected to a wooden crane. There were no levers or cranks for a human to work it by, so you left it alone. For now, you stood near the side facing the sun. Watching the sunlight catch the peaks of little waves was mesmerising. You found yourself watching it for a while, forgetting about this whole ordeal.
Among the waves, there was a small patch of bubbling water. You strained to look at it – there was a pair of binoculars inside, but you didn’t want to move in case this anomaly went out of sight.
At first you thought it could have been mist from a whale’s blowhole, but it was too calm for that. The more you considered it, the more you thought it just looked like someone blowing bubbles underwater. Either way, your heart swelled upon seeing it. It struck you that this whole time you were staring out at sea, you hadn’t seen any wildlife at all – whatever this was, it was something that needed to be checked out by the ship’s captain.
“Ship!” You stood up straight and called out.
The ship’s sails flapped excitedly, like they were responding to you calling out them.
“I want to look at that patch of bubbles from the side, can you sail slowly over there?” Going full speed ahead would certainly sound cool, but approaching this with caution was a smarter move.
The ship lurched forward, obeying everything you told it to do, apart from the ‘slowly.’
“What the hell was that?” Hitoya scrambled onto the deck. He looked like a cat that had just had its nap disturbed.
“I’ve found something! Stay alert, matey!” You kept your eyes peeled and focused. The patch of bubbles split into two smaller patches. One was moving fairly quickly away from the other, but the other soon caught up. The ship, somehow defying the weak breeze, matched its pace with the bubbles.
“Stop, ship!” You braced yourself against the edge of the ship as it stopped. Yes! The water here was ever so slightly sparkly. It looked warm and inviting – you had to hold yourself back from jumping in.
“This seems like the place. You got a good eye, kid. Hey, is that a voice? Is someone drowning?!”
Hitoya was right – from the two patches of bubbles, there came two voices. Though you weren’t too far from them, they were barely audible.
You lowered a rope ladder off the side of the ship and took a few steps down it, hanging on just above the water. “Hey, is someone there? Do you need help?” You called out.
The voices stopped, and everything was quiet. With bated breath, you and Hitoya waited for a reply. Even the ship’s sails were still.
You were about to call again, when a long, red mass swam quickly through the water, creating ripples that splashed on your legs. Another mass was following behind it, though it wasn’t as temperamental as the first.
“Captain, it’s just a weird fish. Come back on board before you fall in.” Hitoya said. “I don’t want you gettin’ eaten.
You stayed right where you were: “No, we’ve come this far! And fish don’t let out bubbles.”
“Fine. It’s a tiny whale.”
“No! We’re staying here.”
Hitoya huffed and leant over to look.
“Listen to your captain, Hitoya.” A voice from under you said.
Your head whipped round to meet the source – it was Kuko! Or at least, it was his head that was peeking out of the water.
“Kuko! Come on board – don’t drown!” You held out your hand to help him up, barely registering the ‘how’ or ‘why’ of him being there.
“Nah thanks, I can’t exactly get up.”
You were about to ask what he meant when another familiar face popped up from the water – it was Jyushi!
“Jyushi! Why are you two in the ocean? And why do you look different? Come on board before you drown!”
“Hey, I hear ya.” Kuko rose up to the surface, just past his shoulders, so that he could freely talk with his hands and he spoke. “Yeah, shit’s different about us – we got other things to worry about first.”
Jyushi, however, only let his head come above water. “Aha! I’m so happy to see both of you again, ehe. I can’t wait to get home!”
“Get home? We can’t even get on the boat,” Kuko snapped.
“Uuuu… I know, but still,” Jyushi whined, and dejectedly blew bubbles under the water.
“You two,” Hitoya butted in, “Don’t keep us out of the loop. What’re you hiding from us?”
“Alright alright. Check this out!” Kuko grinned before diving down into the water and holding himself there, showing off his blue and purple… fish tail. In a flash, he righted himself again. “How’d’ya like that, huh? We’re mermaids – me and Jyushi!”
With your free hand, you took out the scale from your pocket and held it up – it was a match. “So this is from you? And your ring… How did that even happen?”
“Haah? We can talk about all that later. Just help us go home. I wanna get back to takin’ a nap.” Kuko was getting more frustrated by the second.
“I thought you were training today?” You innocently asked.
“Whatever.” Kuko frowned and turned his head.
Instead of his grown out shave, Kuko had long flowing hair like he had been growing it out for years. That long mass of red you saw earlier must have been all that hair. Jyushi was the same; he had no mullet anymore, just a waterfall of black hair.
Kuko must have seen you staring, because he called out to you: “Listen, I dunno if mermaid hairdressers exist but I know they’d have a hard time cleanin’ up all the cut hair when they’re floatin’ all about.” Kuko wasn’t too happy about detracting from the real issue, though he mumbled just loud enough for you to hear: “Kinda like it. Maybe one day.”
“It looks good on you!” You said.
“H-hey! Listen, kiddo. There are things more important than this, like how’re we gonna get up there? Figure that out, captain.”
“I don’t know…”
There was no way you could pull them up by hand – neither you nor Hitoya – and they couldn’t climb the rope ladder only by their arms (maybe Kuko could, but definitely not Jyushi).
The ships sails rattled impatiently. The ship… they needed to get on the ship. If only there was something made just for getting mermaids on the ship. But there was, you realised, thinking back over the past few hours: The strange contraption on the ship was made just for this!
“Ship! Lower the… tub thing… into the water!” You commanded the ship, and it answered.
With a few creaks, the ship turned the gears of the crane and lowered the tub into the water. The managed to swim inside and get settled with minimum fuss. Jyushi was having fun splashing his tub-mate with water, and Kuko was holding back from throwing Jyushi over the side. Soon, the two boys were on board, and lounging in the tub as the ship sailed forth.
Or, you would be going forth, but you didn’t know where you were going.
“Oi, Captain,” Hitoya said, “Where are we headed? If you don’t mind, your first mate here is gonna hit the hay.”
You were starting to feel sleepy yourself. “I’ll join you. I’m tired after all that.”
A loud whine came from behind you, which ended as a yawn. Of course, it was Jyushi. “Uuu… don’t leave me out here with Kuko… He might…”
“What?” Kuko butted in, “Worried I’ll make ya train here? In this boat, as mermaids? Nah. I’m gonna take a nap.” He rested his arms on the rim of the tub and let his head lull back. In almost no time, he was snoring.
You looked to Jyushi, preparing to go and comfort him, only to find that he was fast asleep too. Hitoya had already gone to his quarters so you assumed that he was asleep too. The afternoon was warm, so you could understand why everyone dozed off so quickly. Sitting down on the deck with your back resting against a barrel, you soon fell asleep. You didn’t remember if you were there long, but the sounds of the waves and having everyone safe on board made it easy to rest.
Though you were the last to fall asleep, you were the last one to wake up.
The cabinet behind your head, and the carpet you were sitting on… it was familiar. You were in Hitoya’s office.
“Hey, sleepyhead.” Kuko was peering down at you.
“Huh?” You rubbed your eyes and fully woke up, “Was that all a dream? I don’t remember falling asleep.”
“It was real, kid.” Hitoya offered his hand and helped you stand up. “How, or why, did this even happen?”
“M… maybe it was all a freaky dream! That was all had at the same time!” Jyushi said, but his idea was quickly shut down.
“I dunno. I was takin’ a nap, then I fell into the water.” Kuko said, as nonchalantly as if he was telling you what he had for breakfast. “I don’t think worrying about the ‘how’ or ‘why’ will do us any good, guys.”
“Me too… I took a nap… I mean –! I was really tired after band practice and… and…!” Jyushi looked like he was about to make another ocean with his tears, “I wasn’t being lazy… oh… I hope Amanda isn’t lonely without me…”
Kuko clicked his tongue in annoyance as Jyushi whimpered, Hitoya sighing at both of them. Things were well and truly back to normal. Everyone was in their rightful place.
Out on that strange ocean, where time didn’t move in a regular fashion, it would have been so lonely if you were taken there by yourself. You were glad that you weren’t alone, even if the meaning of it all didn’t make sense. You were all back, so why did you have a feeling that you’d left something behind? Was everyone here?
Even without the help of the captain’s hat, you figured out what you left behind: “We never got to find out the ship’s name… It was kinda cute, like a big puppy! Ships all have names, don’t they? Maybe we could name it!”
“Be thankful we all got back in one piece. Don’t go worrying about a boat.” Hitoya sighed, again.
“Right. Um… happy father’s day…?” You weren’t sure if it was still that day.
In the real world, not much time had passed, so it was now around lunch time, despite it feeling like a whole day had passed.  
“Heh. Thanks. What do you all say we go out for food? I’m starving.” A chorus of “Yes!” went around, which made Hitoya crack a smile. “Great. You guys argue and pick something.”
“Hitoya, it’s your day, you pick!” You insisted. It was nice that he didn’t dismiss the whole father’s day thing after all.
“Still hung up over that, huh? Alright. I could go for anything right now. Apart from seafood… huh?” Hitoya apparently noticed something new on his desk. “What’s this? Did you get me this?”
“No, what is it?”
Hitoya picked it up and showed everyone. It was a snow globe, with a tiny model ship sitting in the middle. Around the base, ‘The Chiroptera’ was engraved. The ship was alone in its miniature ocean. When he shook it, little blue flecks flew around, with the occasional fleck of glitter.
And if you looked close enough, the sails were flapping.
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