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komoreangel · 3 years

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𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬

pairing: kazuha x reader

scenario: kazuha takes you to the lake for a romantic getaway, and he finds himself reminiscing of days long gone…ah, but you’re here with him, and that’s the only blessing he really needs, isn’t it?

genre: fluff, kazuha misses his friend but he loves u a lot !! + kazuha with messy hair hdbnd

request: KAZUHA AND HIS S/O SWIMMIGN TOGTHER IN A LAKE <\\3 SO ROMANTIC

a/n: SO TRUE ANON!! man,,,no ones doing it like kazuha,,,sexy and romantic? 🏃‍♀️

he woke you up that morning with a soft grin, telling you he had great plans for the day ahead. you had only just woken up, and already the words that fell upon your ears were nothing short of adoration, along with him trying his best to convince you to agree.

his efforts were in vain, because you would’ve followed him anywhere without hesitation. after getting dressed and grabbing your things, he took you by the hand and the two of you made your way out of the harbor. the crux was temporarily docked there while beidou visited ningguang (which the crew knew could take days, as it was painfully obvious they were more than just business partners).

“kazuha, where are you taking me?” you asked him after a while. you had thought he was planning on going to guyun stone forest again, as the shores of his homeland, inazuma, we’re faintly visible from there. he loved telling you stories about the land of his birth, and always said he’d take you there someday.

“don’t fret, y/n, it’s just a different route this time,” he assured you. however, the farther you got from the coast, the more you realized he had a different location in mind. before you could joke about how he’d tricked you, the two of you stood on a cliff overlooking luhua pool.

he offered to carry your bag and set it down in the sand. “darling, come here,” he called. you went over to him, leaning your head on his shoulder as you gazed at the crystal blue waters in front of you. the weather was rather nice that day, and he was ecstatic to have you here with him.

after enjoying the scenery for a while, he once more took you by the hand, with his eyes only on you and nowhere else. “you want to go in?” you have to admit, the water was gorgeous, and it had been getting a bit hot, as if the sun itself would concede to his wishes. “but i’m just in my clothes, i don’t..” he pulled you closer to the water, slightly chuckling at your protests.

“relax, dearest. there’s no harm in getting your clothes wet, is there? it’s hot enough outside that just setting them on the deck will dry them by tomorrow.” you can’t help but agree with him, especially when he looks at you like that. “alright, but if my clothes get ruined, it’s on you.” you tell him. his eyes light up at your words, and the two of you head closer to the water.

“of course, i’ll take full responsibility.” he replies, and as he steps further into the lake, you follow after him. you move your foot forwards, not realizing how deep the water is, and before you can stop yourself, are falling headfirst into the lake. your hair, along with all of your clothes, are now soaked. to your surprise (and slight annoyance), kazuha lifts you up with one hand, his hands steadying you.

“be careful, y/n. we don’t want you drowning, now do we?” you are slightly miffed that he didn’t help you earlier (because from past experience you know he was fully capable of stopping you from falling) and in retaliation you lean down into the water, as if to look for something. he notices, and turns towards you. “is something the matter?”

“yeah, i’m looking for my bracelet, it fell off in the water.” at this, he also leans down beside you, unaware that the bracelet you speak of is actually in your bag, which he was carrying earlier. as soon as his face nears the water, you push him down, his surprise evident as he lets out a yelp of surprise. you laugh at his struggle, as for once, the man who is always ever so eloquent and full of nothing but the most elegant of words is startled.

his head rises above the water with a tired smile on his face. “i suppose i should’ve expected that, hm?” his hair is wet, and has gotten messy from the sudden submersion into the lake. despite it being a prank of yours, you can’t help but think he looks even prettier this way. you help him up, continuing to laugh as you do so.

"sorry," you say between giggles. he continues to grin, pausing to add, "you didn't actually lose the bracelet, did you?" the bracelet was a gift from him to you for one of your anniversaries. "of course not, kaz. i'd never lose it."

he smiles at you and turns his gaze to the water. it wasn't long ago he was standing here with tomo... hoping to himself that things would forever stay that way. moments like these are when he truly understands the shogun's desire for 'eternity'. for the time we spend with our loved ones to last forever, and for the emotions and feelings we hold dearly to never end.

"kazuha, are you okay?" you've moved towards him, your hand on his shoulder. he falters a bit. "ah...yes, darling, don't worry. just lost in a thought, that's all." the smile you give at his words is everything to him, even if you don't know it. "thank you for bringing me here, kazuha. i know it's an important place to you."

so you'd known what he was feeling the whole time? he'd always said you understood him like no one else did, but apparently even he didn't know to what extent. he feels so comforted in your presence, like he doesn't have to say anything to convey his feelings. you just know, and vice versa.

he's never felt more grateful to have someone like you by his side. maybe, even though tomo is long gone, his friend had done him one final favor and pushed you in his direction. because to be in love with a person as amazing as you, kazuha believes there's got to be some other force of nature at work.

a/n: IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON </3 I MEANT TO RELEASE IT EARLIER I SWEAR. there goes kit again with her wack post schedule. BUT 2.1 IS OUT!! AND SCARAMOUCHE APPEARED!! FOR FIVE MINUTES!!!! all jokes aside IM SO HAPPY HE FINALLY SHOWED UP. LIKE....GENUINELY WHEN I WAS PLAYING THE UPDATE AND I SAW HIM I WAS VERY VERY SATISFIED 10/10 !! i also learned the way i portray him might be completely ooc...which is fine its fine im fine- but i think i will be posting more scara content (whos surprised) just to celebrate plus i also wanted to get this one out before another day goes by where i forget, thank u for reading !! <33

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cellard0ors · 3 years

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Ficlet: Beneath The Blue

Mermay isn't over and people enjoyed Part 1, so here's some more...

Rhett has a bit of a gambling problem.

No, that's not quite right. More like a gaming problem. He likes games. He likes the rush of winning and it's not so much about money as the thrill of nailing a dart on a bullseye or getting a hole in one or - well - being right.

He really loves that one. Trivia, guessing games, riddles - lucking out on the right answer or just knowing it, always makes him feel fantastic. He's had marginal luck in his life. With basketball, with singing, and now - with his new current career - fishing, but games?

Rhett's always mastered those, rarely ever a loser. But the thing is, to do those things, he tends to have to use cash as an entry to play, thus - a sort-of-not-really gambling problem.

And winning in those kind of situations is also a problem, because, after some time - it tends to attract...attention. And usually the bad kind. Recently it was very much the bad kind, because he was at The 101, engaging in his normal play only to be snatched up by some very rough looking characters.

Ones who took him into a backroom and decided to skip right over the 'broken knuckles' threat and jump right into the 'you're going to go sleep with the fishes' threat.

To be fair, they probably went quickly into the decision once he started fighting back. Rhett's not much of a brawler, but he's a big guy and that in and of itself can create...issues. Especially if his temper is up.

Long story short - Rhett's bit of a gambling problem led him to being clonked over the head (more than once, matter of fact) and taken out to sea. His last real memory before hitting the water was that he'd been amazed at the boulder they'd found to attach him to - where had they gotten such a huge rock from? A landfill?

Not that it mattered - rock, rope, and Rhett all went overboard and into the deep. Rhett tried not to hold his breath, to struggle enough just to get loose, but, in the end - he'd been lost.

Except he hadn't been.

He'd awoken to find the setting sun bathing him in golden light and, above him, an angel. Because only an angel could have such eyes. Eyes as blue and deep and mysterious as the sea he was supposed to have died in.

His throat ached from damn near drowning but he'd still managed to ask the angel for his name. And he'd gotten it.

Link.

But then the angel had turned, vanished, and Rhett had seen that - while he was right about his mythical savior - he was not at all right about what kind.

Because Link had a tail.

A fish tail.

One as sparkling blue and captivating as his eyes and he'd disappeared into the surf so fast, Rhett began to question his sanity.

Had he imagined it all? The entire experience had been traumatic as heck - maybe it was just a coping mechanism for his mind? But then, far out, he'd seen a head appear above the waters.

Seen it and a shy wave and he'd waved back, because what else could he do? He wasn't dead and he wasn't crazy. He'd been saved. Saved...by a mermaid (merman?) named Link.

Which leads to now and his camping out full time on this small rocky stretch of lonely beach. Rhett made sure to check in with the local marina, see if it was okay for him to dock his tiny fishing boat, The Bluegrass, nearby. And 'nearby' was about a mile or so away, because this bit of land is pretty unoccupied and small.

...the perfect place for a merman (mermaid?) to drop off someone they saved. And, hopefully, return to? Rhett's not sure - honestly, this whole thing might be a fool's errand, but either way - he has a tent pitched and is waiting.

Waiting to see if Link returns.

Night after night seems like a failure. Still, Rhett doesn't mind. He can be patient. His last haul (fish-wise, not gambling-wise) earned him a considerable amount, so there's no harm in waiting.

Still, as he sits here now, the sky a lovely lilac as the sun dips low beneath the horizon, he can't help but feel like time's running out. Honestly, what did he expect? For Link to return and want to...what? Be best friends?

The person...creature...per-creature? Did what he could and Rhett should just be grateful and move on. But there was something about him...and those eyes...and that voice...

Rhett cracks open another can of soda, takes a deep sip when he hears it. The water's waves have become almost a white noise at this point, so consistent, but this...this is different. Just a little splish. Or splash. Or whatever.

And it's close. He puts the can down and quickly surges to his feet, looking out intently over the water and then he sees it. Just the top of someone's head. His head. Dark wet hair and blue eyes behind...are those glasses? And Rhett can't see his nose or anything else, but he can see enough to cry out, "Hey!"

The head rears back, sinks some, and Rhett feels a surge of panic, not wanting to lose this opportunity, "No! Wait, wait! Link! I-!"

The head stops, goes still. Rhett continues on, desperate for this to continue, "Please...don't go."

He doesn't.

Bolstered, Rhett continues, hoping he's heard, understood, "I...I just-? You saved me."

Link simply blinks.

"Thank you."

There's a bobbing in the water around him and Rhett's pretty sure Link nodded. Rhett edges just that little bit closer, "I...I'd hoped you'd come back. Not only so I could thank you, but so...um...maybe-? Maybe we could-? Could talk-?"

Link sinks a little more again, but Rhett can still see his eyes and, as long as he can see those, he feels okay, "I mean...you-you came back. Right? So-so maybe you'd-? You'd like to talk too?"

Link's head disappears.

Rhett feels his heart break. But then he notices that the water is moving. There's a rippling, the kind he sees when fish swim close to the surface. As if to punctuate that thought, the broad tip of a blue tail rises up and out, pushing against the waves.

He's swimming closer!

Rhett resists the urge to hoot in delight, to pumping his arms in victory, as Link pushes forward and, on the next movement of water, he surges upwards - his whole head visible now.

Link's entire face is nice.

A strong jaw, a good nose, a very fine mouth and yeaaaah, Rhett doesn't want Link to swim off, so he's going to do his very best not to focus on that mouth too much as he says, "I'm-I'm Rhett."

Link licks his lips, dips his head shyly, "I'm Link."

"Y-Yeah, you-you said..."

They both just sort of eyeball one another, both clearly unsure of what to make of the other. Of how to proceed. Eventually Rhett does, "So, ah, you're-? You're a mermaid?"

Link's eyebrows rise.

"Merman?"

"Just Mer," Link clarifies, "Our kind doesn't really attach those bits on the end there."

"Really?"

Link nods, "Humans came up with that one."

"Oh? We-we did?"

Another nod, "Back when we first used to come across one another."

"...take it that doesn't really happen now?"

"Not really. No."

Another awkward silence falls. Rhett scratches at one cheek, struggling for something else to say when Link blurts, "You're hairy."

Rhett lowers his hand and - much to his own surprise - he bursts out laughing. Link colors some and he gives a bashful smile and okay, Rhett said he wasn't going to pay too much attention to that mouth, but it's hard when it's so danged cute, "Yeah, yeah I am, brother."

"Bro-ther?" Link repeats and it's clearly a word he's unfamiliar with. Rhett beams, "'Brother'. We use it for family members. Y'know, the boys born from the same Momma and such. Can be a term of endearment too."

"Oh..." Link seems pleased with this and Rhett grins, "You got one?"

Link's eyebrows knit together and Rhett explains, "A brother? Or-or some other family or-?"

"I was spawned from another Mer. She came to shore to give birth to me."

Rhett's eyes grow wide, "You-? You were born on land?"

Link nods, "Most of us are. Mers walk between both worlds more often than not."

Rhett lets that one wash over him even as Link comes closer. Rhett can see his tail better now. It's amazing. Glossy and sparkling blue, the scales tightly knit. Rhett's first reaction is wanting to touch it but he quickly shutters that idea - recognizing it as beyond rude. They've just started talking to one another, for goodness sake!

Still, seeing it rest against the wet sand of the shoreline is tempting and seeing it move, more so. It slides and slithers, but in such an enticing way. Rhett moves a little closer, foam teasing at his toes as Link looks up (and up) at him, "Hard to talk at this level..."

Rhett realizes he probably looks like a giant at Link's angle, the Mer practically lying at his feet, so he lowers himself down until his butt hits the sand, crossing his legs at the ankles, "Better?"

Link nods and Rhett does a bit of a wiggle backward to avoid getting his khaki cargo shorts wet. There's an amused smirk around Link that says he recognizes that action. But of course he does - Mers, apparently, can traverse between land and sea.

So, Link is probably aware of how clothing works. Has he ever worn clothing? Come to the shore? Rhett wants to ask so many questions, but isn't sure what's appropriate and what isn't, but Link beats him to the questioning, "Are you a fisherman?"

Rhett lets out a strained 'Ah-?' as he immediately realizes that the true answer will no doubt insult his new acquaintance, but, again, Link beats him to the punch, "You've got the attire for it. Flannel shirt, baseball cap..."

Rhett frowns, "You think fisherman have a particular attire?"

"To my recollection..." The remark makes Rhett chuckle again, unable to help himself, "'Recollection' - you sound so danged southern. Just like me. I was born and raised in North Carolina."

Link beams, "That's where I was spawned! My sire came from the same location. Not all Mers are from the sea. Some reside in lakes, rivers - any water deep enough to conceal us, but a lot of us return to the ocean, considering its the biggest body of water."

Rhett lets that sink in even as Link again asks, "So, you are a fisherman, right?"

"Um-?"

"It's okay if you are," Link assures him, folding his arms and resting his chin there, "It's not really a proud profession amongst my kind, but it's understandable."

Rhett's lips twitch from side to side, "So I'm not, like, catching up your friends or something?"

Link snorts, "What - you think we talk to them?"

"Heck, man - I don't know how it works," Rhett lets out a peal of nervous giggles, getting the idea that Link is teasing him. Link returns the laugh and Rhett relaxes as a realization settles in.

Whether or not Rhett wants to admit it, he did want Link to return. He wanted him to return and be his friend and it appears that that is indeed what is happening.

It's happening and Rhett couldn't be any happier.

#rhink #mermay #mermaid!au #my writing #randl

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wiitchy-biitch · 4 years

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Herro! I saw you wanted to take requests so, figured I'd toss ya a lil somethin ~ Perhaps Klaus dealing with being able to see Reader's ghost after they die during their attempts to put an end to the apocalypse?

Of course! I hope you like it! I got a little carried away, and it got away from me.

Warnings: Character death, mentions of blood, ANGST.

Words: 1,075

I Loved and I Loved and I Lost You ~ Klaus Hargreeves x Reader.

Klaus was hopelessly, madly, deeply in love with you, it had hit him like a tidal wave, leaving him breathless. He felt free with you, the ghosts were drowned out in your presence. Being around you had been better than any high. You were the world to him, and he did all he could to protect you.

But it wasn't enough.

He held you in his arms, knees digging into the rubble of the once great Academy, clutching you close to his chest, hoping he could squeeze the life back into you. Tears fell onto your lifeless form, sobs racking the mans thin frame. He had failed you, and now the one thing that had brought him immense joy was taken from him.

Nothing could have prepared him for this, the pain he felt in his chest was excruciating. He just wanted to give up, to lie down and die beside you. Fuck saving the world, the world meant nothing to him without you in it. All of the things he could've done to save you started running through his head, his fathers voice reminding him that he had once again failed.

It was Diego who broke Klaus out of his thoughts, a gentle hand on his shoulder. Klaus looked up, meeting his brothers sad eyes.

"I-I can't leave them... You can't make me leave them.." He mumbled, his voice breaking. Your blood had soaked through your boyfriends tanktop, the cooling liquid leaving a permanent stain on Klaus's heart. Tears left a trail down dust covered cheeks, making him look more worn out.

"Klaus, we have to go... Vanya needs us." Diego pushed, kneeling down to be eye level with his brother. He hated seeing the Always Happy Klaus like this, he hated seeing his brother break. He knew from experience, that this wound wasn't one that would quickly heal.

Klaus let out a sad sigh, letting the numbness wash over him. He pressed one last kiss to your forehead, blinking back the fresh tears threatening to fall. With the last ounce of strength he had, he laid your body back onto the ruins of his childhood home, promising to return and give you a proper burial when he saved the world.

It was at the Icarus Theater that he saw you. He thought his mind had just been playing a cruel trick on him. But god, when he saw you smile at him, his eyes lit up, knowing deep down that it was you, you had returned to him. "Y-Y/N..." he breathed out, lifting a shaky hand to your cheek. "Fuck, darling, I thought I would never see you again.."

You chuckle at that, staring up at the man who had stolen your heart. "My love, did you really think I'd leave you without saying goodbye?" You knew your time was limited, as much as you loved Klaus, your time on this Earth was up, you needed to cross over. You cupped his cheek, smiling sadly when he leaned into your touch. You didn't want to say goodbye, you wanted to stay here with him, to spend his days with him until you could finally be reunited. But he needed to move on, he needed to find happiness with someone else. And if you stuck around, you'd just be holding him back.

"This doesn't have to be goodbye, Y/N. You can stay with me, just like Ben...." He started, his voice wavering, "Please, Y/N... Please don't leave me... I can't-" A choked sob escaped his lips, and you felt your heart shatter into a million little pieces. This is never how you imagined things; Though, things can change in an instant. Any visions of the future are bound to come crashing down, leaving devastation in it's wake.

Klaus pulled you into a hug, his powers allowing you the mercy of touching him one last time. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, letting out quiet sobs as he held you to him. He was having a great amount of difficulty handling the fact that he would never have the chance to get lost in your wyes again, never get to hear your corny jokes, or soothing voice. That, in itself, was enough to break the already fragile man.

Gunfire interrupted your moment, causing Klaus to jump back, his hands instantly covering his ears. "Go," You told him, his siblings needed him, "I'll be right here waiting for you."

"I love you, Y/N. I'll be right back." Klaus assured you, soon running off to help his siblings. You watched as they managed to subdue Vanya, much too late. Five huddled them all in a circle, and you knew this was the end, this was the last time you were going to be graced with Klaus's presence.

He motioned for you to join them, to come with them, but you couldn't put him through that. You wouldn't. So, you shook your head, giving him a sad smile. Klaus's eyes went wide, he tried to run to you, but his siblings kept him in a firm grip. "Y/N, Y/N! No! Come with me, please, come with me!" He begged, his voice becoming more and more desperate as Five started pushing them through time.

Klaus was there one moment, and gone the next. You sat yourself down on an empty seat, letting out a sigh as you waited for the world as you knew it to be destroyed.

Klaus landed with Ben in 1960, his heart filled with sadness. He screamed until his throat was raw, cried until he had no tears left. He spent three long years grieving you, finding that staying sober was growing more and more difficult, seeing as you couldn't escape his memory.

When he had learned of the second doomsday, he fought like hell to stop it, swearing he wouldn't let anyone else he cared about die because he didn't give his all. Klaus, and his siblings, succeeded in saving the world. It didn't bring you back, but he knew you would be proud. Even if you weren't in his arms, you had a place in his heart, and he'd carry you around proudly, remembering the good times he had with you. He loved you, and he lost you, and it hurt like hell for a while, but he was now just grateful he had the opportunity to love you at all.

#klaus hargreeves angst #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves #Klaus Hargreeves x Reader #tua s2 #tua fanfic #tua #tua spoilers #tua netflix #tua s1 #the umbrella academy #bansheeinberk #request #imagines #diego hargreeves #x reader

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etlunainmorte · 4 years

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“As she comes to the city, hollow hands empty,

Eyes open to what lies in wait for her,”

She does not weep nor wail,

In her eyes, home has always been burning.”

***

🌙 To You Who Rejected Me 🌙

***

"Now, where could that thing be?" Griffon mused to himself as he flew high above the shores of Delphi, looking for that vital something that his master lost when he dived into the ocean to escape those fire - wielding Elves attacking him. The demonic bird has been searching for almost an hour but, with no such luck. "Honestly, it could turn up just about anywhere!" He complained in utter frustration. "This is hopeless!"

The bird was about to give up on his search when he noticed something gleaming at the corner of his eye. He looked down and squinted those golden eyes of his until he finally saw the thing. Indeed, it was right there, washed up on the shore and almost covered with sand and sea weeds.

There it was, V's antique metal cane!

"There ya are!" Griffon flew down to fetch the thing, at the same time shooing the sea gulls that were trying to claim it as their own like it was some kind of a rare sea artifact, almost fighting over it. "HEY, I SAID, SHOO!" The familiar screeched once more as he let out a weak electrical current to scare the noisy birds away, and it worked to perfection.

"Hoho! Thought I'd never see ya again!" Griffon opened his talons wide, ready to pick up V's cane,...

"What in the - ?!" The bird muttered the moment his talons came into contact with the metal cane. It felt somehow hot, and not just warm. He was not sure whether his eyes were playing tricks on him but, the thing did seem to glow. And finally, the metal cane seemed to tremble a bit against his talons, like it was alive. Sentient.

Still hovering above the sand with V's metal cane in his talons, the demonic bird squinted his eyes in suspicion. Master and familiar alike knew that the cane was nothing but an old piece of metal, and not a source of any kind of power, demonic or not. An aid for V's,... disability. Nothing more.

However, despite that, Griffon could feel something coming from the cane. Like it was emanating some form of unknown power. He just knew it deep within his core.

But, being unimaginably tired after what happened last night, Griffon ignored the cane, ruffled his feathers, and flew back to where Dante and his master were.

"I'm heckin’ tired." Griffon uttered as his wings took him to his destination - the ruins of Apollo's temple. "I'll let Shakespeare deal with ya."

"Your foot seem fine to me, V." Dante said for the third time since morning.

"I could've sworn I felt this,... excruciating pain when I was attacked,... "

"Well, your foot seem,... fine to me!" And that was the fourth time since morning. "Look, V: you're a son of Sparda. Maybe the Demon blood's finally kickin' in and healed your wounds?"

And to this, V only shook his head. It's impossible for him, after all.

No matter how much or how intense Dante stared at his brother's allegedly injured left foot, he just couldn't find anything wrong with it, save for the missing pair of the poet's old gladiator sandals, and the frayed, almost tattered end of his pants, like something burned it. If anything, to Dante's eyes, V only seemed to have lost the other pair of his unspeakably tacky footwear. And a good riddance to it, if he may add! To the legendary Devil Hunter, it seemed so difficult to move and fight Demons with such footwear. And he would never deny that fact, despite knowing that he could hurt his brother's feelings for having such a questionable taste in fashion.

On the other hand, to V, it was an entirely different story. For, only last night, he swore his foot got burned badly due to the attack. So badly and so painful, he was actually scared to look at it.

And now, as he looked, no, stared, at his foot with disbelief, he couldn't help but feel utterly mystified. First, there was this strange presence that saved him from the enemies, and now this.

It's as if nothing happened to his foot, at all!

And honestly? V could not believe his sheer, dumb luck.

Or, was it even luck?

After all, since those Elves, and her, entered their lives, V and his brother experienced nothing but the unusual. The unknown. And he felt that he must learn to accept such things. Get used to them, so to speak.

V pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes and knitting his eyebrows as a helpless sigh escaped his parched lips. Well, there's no use raking up the past. They must focus on the present. They must focus on the now. And for now, they must focus on getting to the Elven world in one piece. The portal led them to Delphi of all places, and V knew it meant something. They were getting really close to their destination. And he knew they would face an even greater danger when they get there. Well, it's not like the Elves would give them a warm welcome or anything. They're still wanted persons, after all.

Opening his eyes once more, he noticed Griffon flying towards them, finally carrying his lost metal cane. He gave a weak smile as the loyal familiar gave the cane back to him and landed on his waiting arm.

Then, V noticed something strange. So did Dante.

"No wisecracks or something?" Dante asked the demonic bird as he crossed his arms and tapped his boot on the ground.

"You do seem a bit quiet." V added, raising his eyebrow as he looked at his familiar.

"Ahh, V," Griffon stuttered, unsure how to begin. " ... didn't ya notice anythin',... weird?"

"Pardon?" The poet asked as Griffon's eyes wandered to the metal cane in his right hand.

"That thing!" The demonic bird squawked.

"Ugh, now what - ?" Dante began when a woman approached them, getting their attention and making them drop their conversation, much to Griffon's frustration.

"Can we help you, lady?" With a flashy grin, the younger brother graciously asked the woman, who was smiling nervously as her eyes went back and forth from him, to V, to the strange avian on the poet's arm.

"I, ahh,... " The lady stuttered, not sure how to address the situation.

"Yes?" And Dante didn't seem to help with the situation, at all. The woman became somewhat more nervous than before she approached them.

Inhaling through her nose and clearing her throat, she began. “Yes, well," She said, pointing at Griffon with a trembling finger. “The other guests are getting anxious of your,… ahh,… pet bird."

"Is that so?" Dante answered with a boisterous voice. "Don't you worry a thing about our pet bird! You see, he's a rare - "

“I see. Don’t worry.”

All of a sudden, V heard a clear and distinct voice, overlapping with the woman and his brother's voices.

“These are my loyal,… companions. They would bring no harm to any of the innocent people here. That,…”

V's hands went up to his temples as he tried to distinguish and trace where the voice was actually coming from, when the voice itself took over his hearing, drowning out the other voices, and all the other noises going on around him.

“I can assure you.”

The lady let out a helpless laugh, then nodded. “Okay. Whatever you say.” She hastily moved away from Dante to give herself a safe distance from him and Griffon and clumsily pointed at the breathtaking horizon. “Well, now, enjoy your stay here at Delphi!”

The woman, being proud of herself for handling the difficult situation, walked away with a huge smile on her face. And Dante, being a huge flirt, started following the woman.

However, when his brother stepped away, V noticed something taking his place where he stood.

V's eyes narrowed for a second for what he saw. He closed his eyes, rubbed the tiredness and fatigue off them, and opened them once more. However, despite that, the strange figure was still there.

V saw,... himself.

And he, the other him, was drinking in the beautiful sight of Delphi's ruins around him.

“So, V,…” He heard Griffon ask all of a sudden. “Are we going to look for that thing there?”

"I'm sorry - ?" V turned to his left to look at Griffon but, the demonic bird was nowhere to be found.

“Not this time.” V turned towards his other self at the sound of his voice and noticed Griffon, himself, flying towards him. “For now, I need to take a rest and reflect upon our journey, so far.”

V almost fell off the old bench he was sitting on.

That voice,...

... it really was him.

But,... how?!

“The Yamato really does wonders, huh?” the Griffon who was with the other V said, then chuckled, ruffling his own feathers in delight with tiny shakes. “Who knew it would go directly to you and not to that kid Nero?”

"The Yamato?" His other self whispered as V followed him and his familiar on their way towards the ruins of Apollo's temple. What has the Yamato got to do with all this?

“For one thing, I’ am the rightful owner of the Yamato, not the boy Nero.” The other V answered as he skipped some rocks along the pathway that led to the ruins of the temple. “I think it was fitting that it answered to me. But, as grateful as I’ am that it was returned to me,” he said, stopping at what looked like the remains of an altar. “I must not abuse my fragile body by using it over and over to transport us. You see,” He began tracing the remains with the tip of his cane. “It consumes way too much of my,… demonic power. I must be wary of that fact.”

Of course, V thought as he observed what the other V was doing. I don't have,... that much demonic power.

“Aha, so that’s why we had to hitch that stinkin’ bus ride with that awful bitch! Didn’t know how to keep her mouth shut!” And the other Griffon sounded less rude, either.

“Now, be nice to our little human.” V reprimanded the demonic bird. “We will ’hitch’ on the same vehicle on the way back.”

“Ugh! Not again,…”

V watched in amusement how this other Griffon threw tantrums. However, his other self drew V's attention back. He was looking at the altar with an unreadable expression, tracing the edges of the marble altar with his cane.

Then, all of a sudden, he started reciting the few lines of a poem that was very dear to him. It was,...

“As she comes to the city, hollow hands empty,

Eyes open to what lies in wait for her,”

His mother's favorite poem,...

V closed his eyes and recited the old poem along with his other self.

“She does not weep nor wail,

In her eyes, home has always been burning.”

His eyes closed, his senses surrendered to the vision before him, he allowed nostalgia to take over his entire being. Of his mother reading this same poem to him, of her tales about a Princess named Cassandra who was gifted by the God Apollo with the curse of predicting the future,...

... of this hidden gateway of Delphi where she went to after being rejected and stoned by her own people,...

V opened his eyes, feeling something pulling him back from his reverie to the present, like a powerful force.

It was then when he was greeted by the sight of a morphing demonic entity right before his other self, who he assumed was one of his familiars.

He watched in awe as the familiar morphed into multiple pulsing dark vines that filled the entire altar. Him and his other self took a step back as roses of all shapes and sizes sprouted from the dark vines, and when his other self pulled something from the largest rose, his eyes grew wide with shock.

It was the Yamato, only it was glowing in a very unusual way.

V wanted to listen more, to know more, to watch what happens next but, the vision itself began getting blurry as their voices became more and more warped, like a disrupted signal of an old television. The vision, and the voices, warped and warped, until only a distorted and blurry version was left. And before the vision entirely vanished, V saw his other self raising the sword,...

... and slicing the air before him, creating a portal that led him somewhere,...

"V!" He heard Dante's voice from afar, like he was being called by him from the other end of a long tunnel. "V!" He felt a strong hand go down on his shoulder, making him turn around. "What are you doing? I was looking all over for you!"

The poet could barely believe what just happened. He was back, and he felt like he just woke up from a very long dream.

"I, ahh,... " V stuttered, turning back to the altar and seeing nothing there.

"Hey, V," Griffon, who just landed on his waiting arm, asked. " ... are you okay?"

"The gateway,... " The poet uttered, the vision he saw still crystal clear on his mind.

"What gateway?" Dante questioned.

"There's a gateway here." V reiterated as he walked closer towards the altar where his other self vanished. "It was opened using the Yamato."

"How did you know that?" With a raised eyebrow, Dante asked in confusion. "And besides, even if that's true, we can't really use the Yamato. I mean, it's with its owner on the other side of the globe right now."

"We can't rely on Vergil this time, I know." V answered as thoughts and ideas ran through his head like an unstoppable drill. "But, what if the gate,... was left open? What if it was never closed?"

Dante's mouth fell open at the possibility. Only a slight drawback made him close it again and shake his head in disapproval. "But, I see no gate here! All I see in this place are rocks and statues and ruins and tourists everywhere."

V turned to Griffon, who drew back at the intensity in his master's facial features. "Do it."

"Do what?" The familiar questioned.

"Distract the people while I look for the portal."

"How could I do that?! How am I - ?!"

"Alright! I'll do it!" Dante offered, turning away from them and walking away from the altar as he began singing something. And it's working. The tourists, especially the ladies, started listening to him and flocking before him. "I'm lying alone with my head on the phone, thinking of you 'till it hurts,... "

V grabbed this opportunity to look for the portal. He can't be wrong, the vision can't be wrong! They must get to the Elven world and he would do whatever it takes to get there.

He will do whatever it takes to get to her and fix this huge mess that was messing with their lives,...

It was then when he noticed something small and gleaming right before him. He reached out a single finger to touch it, and lo and behold, the small gleam made a tiny ripple that reflected so many bright colors. Like a prism. Another touch of his finger produced a huge ripple, revealing its true nature in all its entirety. Indeed, it was a gate. In the form of a curtain that was seemingly made of glass that reflected light like numerous precious gems.

"Whoa! That looks so unreal!" Griffon, who watched the entire thing with curious eyes, said in awe. "How did you know all this, V?!"

"I'll explain later." The poet answered. "For now, we should press on."

"I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you - " Dante sang with much gusto, wowing his audience, when he suddenly heard a familiar whistle. He stopped singing and turned around to see V beckoning for him to come join him and Griffon. The Devil Hunter turned back to his audience, made an incredibly believable shocked expression, and pointed at the sky. "Thunderstorm! Incoming thunderstorm! Run and hide for your lives!"

The people instantly believed him, scrambling and running all over the place to shield themselves from Dante's imaginary thunderstorm. The younger brother took this opportunity to join V.

"How in the world - ?!" Dante began questioning at the sight of the translucent gateway but, he was cut short as Griffon went behind him and started pushing him towards the gate.

"I'll explain later! We must hurry!" V ordered, then went through the curtain, looking as if he just vanished into thin air.

"Let's get goin', lover boy!" Griffon squawked, grabbing onto Dante's shoulders with his talons.

"I swear I need to go to therapy after all this." The Devil Hunter said as he, too, went through the curtain and vanished.

***

🌙 Finally! And this one took longer than expected. Enjoy!😁😁😁❤❤❤ 🌙

🌙 Thank you so much to these lovelies, @dreaming-gamer , @la-vita and @thottyonmainsquid .❤❤❤ 🌙

***

A few moments later, Dante arrived at the other side. But, his path was blocked by V, himself, who was standing still, his back turned away from him.

"You alright there, V?" Dante asked as he scratched his temple in confusion. "Aren't we - ?"

"Yes, we are." V cut him off, raising his metal cane and using it to point at something before the two of them. "We have finally arrived."

The younger brother followed V's line of sight, and what he saw before him simply took his breath away.

"Holy mama - !" Dante breathed in awe at the marvelous sight.

***

🌙

***

#devil may cry 5 #dmc 5 #vitale #to you who rejected me #v x reader #v x you #chapter 2 #the translucent gateway

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pennemac · 4 years

Text

walk through fire for you (just let me adore you)

Chapter 1 ▪︎Even At 3am

Series Summary- This is my first attempt at writing with criminal minds characters! The show has recently become one of my favorite things to write and ramble about. This is a series of works that are written around an autistic Spencer Reid, and his journey's of finding comfort and joy within his team.

Chapter Summary- Spencer finally reaches out when he's struggling with a bout of sensory overload. It takes a whole lot of courage on his part and a good dose of platonic love from his boss to calm him down. (ft. Spencer's stuffed axolotl)

Warnings/Topics- Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Talk of sensory issues, Crying, The beginnings of a panic attack, Platonic cuddling, A good dose of Hotch being a dad through and through :)

I post these on ao3 first! my ao3 is here

Word Count- 1.9k

There's a light pattering of the beginning of a storm outside of the hotel room window, and Spencer is so tired. He has been, in fact, for the last two days, 16 hours, and 43 minutes.

If Spencer was any semblance of normal, he thinks, he would probably be soothed by the little sounds of rain, but he's not. In fact, it's angering him. It's a constant white noise sound, like television static, but worse, because it can't just be turned off by the click of a button. He isn't even entirely sure why it's making him as mad as it is.

The sound itself is even making him acutely aware of the way unfamiliar sheets feel against his legs, and the way his hair won't stay out of his face. It's alot, honestly. With every second that passes, the rain makes him more and more upset. None of his usual tactics of calming down have worked so far, either.

He hasn't been able to read, because his brain felt like it was being drowned out by the sounds of rain against various outdoor surfaces. Music, though he'd never been a huge fan of anything other than soft piano, had also felt as though it was simply accompanying the rain, assisting it in it's attempt to make him breakdown.

It starts out like this, usually. The discomfort, leading into being easily aggravated, but from then it's everything setting him off. Rain, the constant chatter of a room filled with busy police officers, the ticking of a clock, the texture of his pants, or sheets, or any unfamiliarity.

He's been trying to sleep for days, but he hasn't been able to. To combat this, he'd been consuming copious amounts of coffee. This had made him more twitchy, antsy, than he had been before. His hands now, even, shake as he throws the blankets and sheets off of his legs.

The frustration reaches it's peak though, when he has to struggle to pull his socks off of his feet, and tears fall from his eyes as he leans back onto the bed. As he tries his best to just breathe, he remembers how Hotch had separated him from the rest of their team, pulling him aside and out of the crowded room, as if he'd had an innate sense that he hadn't been doing well.

"Do you need to leave, Reid? I won't make you stay here if it's not going to be beneficial for others or for yourself."

He hadn't managed to give a complete answer, just nodding, hands curling into his pant legs. "Go with Morgan to the mortuary. I was going to send him alone but the quiet of a car will do you good."

His boss had moved to lay a hand onto his shoulder, deciding not to when Spencer had visibly flinched. "I am completely serious when I say that you have to stop over exerting yourself. It does nobody any good when you render yourself useless to others."

Spencer had frowned, not exactly happy with being reprimanded, but he knew that Aaron was certainly correct.

"Beyond that, though, I understand. I made an agreement when I hired you into this team that I'd be here when you need me. You have to reach out to someone when it's necessary."

So now, as he sits in the dark of his room, he does his best to remind himself that it's okay to reach out when he needs someone. His hands are shaky as he finds his bosses contact and presses call before he can over think it.

It's answered fairly quickly. "Reid? What's going on?"

"I'm- it's not anything serious I'm just… I think I'm gonna have a panic attack and I haven't slept for nearly three days, I don't know how to stop it."

He knows how weak his voice sounds, and he hates it. His hands clench and unclench in his bedsheets. Tears continue to slip down his face and his shoulders and neck feel tense.

He hears a the rustling of sheets on the other side of the call before he gets a response. "Can you come up here? You know my room number, yes?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"Okay, come up to my room, then. You're gonna be okay."

He nods, only realizing afterwards that Hotch couldn't actually see it. He tosses his own phone into the open duffle bag by the foot of his bed. The room he's in is uncomfortably dark, and he hesitates for a moment before he moves to reach into the black bag, pulling out a small-ish stuffed axolotl.

It's soft, and the eyes are embroidered, rather than buttons or beads, so they feel nice for his hands to run over. The texture is soft but smooth, and he's grateful that it's that rather than shaggy or rough.

When he's made it up onto the third floor, rather than the second, where his room was, his embarrassment levels had risen and by the time he'd made it up to the door, he heavily considered turning back.

Spencer's grateful when he only has to knock once for the door to open.

Hotch stands in the doorway, and this is probably the only time that Spencer would ever see him in just sweatpants and a soft shirt.

He moves out of the way once he realizes who it is, letting him walk into the room.

His boss moves in front of him, to sit on the large bed in the middle of the dimly lit space.

"What animal is that?" He points vaguely at the pink stuffed animal clutched in shaky hands.

Spencer stands awkwardly across from the bed, his hands fiddling gently with the eyes and the tail of the toy. "It's, uhm… an axolotl. Penelope got it for me cause she knows textures I like and don't like."

Hotch gently sits back to make room for him. He pats the empty space, hoping that Spencer will take the invitation to sit. He does, watching his own hands as if avoiding looking up at his coworker.

"Do you wanna talk about what's been happening? It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, but it can be a good distraction."

He nods slowly, tucking his legs in to sit cross legged. "I- the rain. It's like… t.v. static. I haven't been able to sleep because the sheets are so unfamiliar…"

One hand moves up to hardly brush a tear from his cheek. God, he hates this. Vulnerability doesn't come easy to him, it never has. He knows how tight his breathing is, and that realistically he should start breathing deeper to ensure that he doesn't become light headed but- it's a lot easier to say than to do.

"Can I touch your hands, Spencer?"

The man in question gives an affirmative nod and watches as hands slightly larger than his own come into his line of vision, wrapping around one hand that isn't wrapped around the body of a stuffed animal.

"I know it's tough, but can you breath for me? Just a few deep breaths?"

Fingers flex between Aaron's own, squeezing in what he's fairly certain is an effort to ground himself.

Tears drop down steadily still, and one lands softly on the back of Hotch's hand.

A thumb circles slowly in the dip of where Spencer's hand meets his wrist. "I do hate to seem any kind of strict right now, but… Spencer, I know how hard it is to tell us when you start struggling. What I need you to know though, is that when Gideon agreed to have you on this team, and when I made the decision to keep you here, we knew exactly what we were doing."

A small sob comes from Spencer, and it deepens Aaron's own frown.

"You are an incredible asset to our team. You are the driving force to solving most cases we come across. There's nothing you could do, or show, or say, to us that would make us value or love you any less. If that means this, or telling us you need a break, or letting through more tendencies or quirks when we're working- all of that is good. You do so good, I jus-"

He's cut off abruptly when his hands are shaken away and Spencer all but tackles him into a hug, arms wrapping around his neck and face pressing into his shoulder.

"And here I thought you were always so worried about germs."

Spencer sobs lightly, tears dampening the material under his face. His legs rest on the outside of Aaron's thighs, his weight settled on his legs. The man below him tentatively brings hands around his back to envelope him in a hug, hands rubbing down to ease the tension where he can.

"It's- it's so much."

And this, at least, Aaron can understand. His breathing doesn't even out more than it had, and Aaron would be much more worried if he didn't know that at least in some sense, this would tire him out. So, instead of urging him to calm down as he'd mistakenly done before, when he was less aware of Spencer's diagnosis, he takes a different route.

"Spencer, name 3 things you can feel."

Light sniffles come and shaky breaths still echo in his right ear, but he moves to where his mouth won't be muffled.

"That method of- of calming people down is something they use on kids-"

"Three things, Reid."

He huffs a little bit, but obeys. "Your hands." He shifts where he sits. "The- uhm, the bedsheets under my knees."

One hand goes up to his face, pulling strands of hair back to tuck it behind his ear. "My face is really warm."

Even though Spencer was right, the method of describing different sensory inputs was something people use on children, it was working well enough for him that Aaron wasn't going to stop using it.

"Three things you can see?"

He lifts his head from the shoulder it had been resting on, eyes moving around the room. He looks down slightly. "My hands are shaking." A glance to the left, afterwards, "My stuffed animal is to your left."

"And your lamp is on, but it's… dim."

His voice is soft, and it makes him seem small. He feels small too, body trembling under Aaron's hands.

"Can you smell anything?"

Spencer moves his head in a gesture of affirmation. "Your cologne." He pauses to pull in a deep breath. "Cleaning products, several."

He's breathing is beginning to fade into a normal pace, and there's less shake to his voice.

"Taste?"

"Mint… my uh, my toothpaste. Coffee."

Strong hands move up to his shoulders and neck, massaging lightly into the skin there.

"Hm. What about sounds?"

There's a silence in the room now. Spencer sits up slightly with realization. "The rain. It's not raining anymore."

"Mhm. Maybe the universe listened to you, for once."

He nods softly.

They sit like this for a moment, Spencer relaxing into the pressure of Aaron's hands, his tears slowly to a stop.

"Can I… Stay in here? I don't think I'll be able to sleep alone."

Hotch gives a single nod, and it would have seemed curt, but his face is soft. "Of course."

Spencer moves slowly off of him, fumbling for the pink toy before he lays down completely.

Hotch moves to do the same, but notes briefly the distance that had been put between them. "You can come back over here, y'know."

A tense breath was released and it brings a small smile onto the older mans face as he feels Spencer wiggle back up to his side, one arm laying over his stomach and a head resting against his chest. He takes the opportunity to wrap arm back around slender shoulders, only after lightly brushing stay strands of hair behind Spencer's ear.

"Goodnight, kid."

"Night Hotch."

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid #autistic spencer reid #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #but platonic #platonic cuddling #hurt/comfort #i love these men

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shanastoryteller · 7 years

Note

Your Athena made me cry, I'd like you to know. And we got Medusa! Who, her ending, wow, just. Wow. And the whole thing with Aphrodite and Athena was really interesting, and like Hephestus is shaping up to be the most wanted of the gods, which yes.(Her gift is to turn all who would harm Medusa in that way to stone. It acts as a curse, but she meant it as a gift, and gahhh) Also, Amphitrite is super interesting and is there any way I could tempt you into expanding on her? Or, well. Any more, truly

Zeus claims the sky ashis domain, free and open and pure, and his it becomes.

Hades goes to theunderworld, and it’s messy and horrible and heartbreaking, but he claims ituncontested, and his it becomes.

Poseidon goes to the sea,but it already has a sovereign.

His first though is thatshe’s beautiful. Skin the color of pearls and hair the dark, rich green ofseaweed. She’s tall with the type of aristocratic bone structure that wouldmake him think her delicate if not every other aspect of her was as fearsome asHera at her most irritable.

“You come to my landseeking to make it your own,” she says, and she’s not quite walking and notquite swimming as she circles him. “Who are you to rule the sea?”

He clears his throat, andhe’s a powerful god, he and his brothers are the most powerful gods that stillexist on this earth, but his knees shake before her. It’s not a good feeling. It’snot infatuation – it’s fear. “I am Poseidon.”

She tilts her head, andher pretty blue eyes are as cold as sea floor they stand in. “Goodbye, Poseidon.Perhaps your brother will be able to find what’s left of your corpse in hisunderworld.”

The water whips aroundhim, doing its best to rip him apart, forcing itself into his lungs andsuffocating him. He didn’t think he could drown, but he might be about to beproven wrong.

Then a net closes aroundhim, pulling him up so he breaks through the surface and takes a large,grateful gulp of air. He’s hauled over the side of a boat and dumped on itsfloor, the person who saved him wildly fighting the angry waves. “You must havereally pissed the Lady off,” a light, teasing voice says. Poseidon is stillcoughing, his eyes watering and lungs screaming. This boat is going to capsizeand they’ll both die, so he doesn’t get how this person can sound so lighthearted.

Except they’re not. Theirlittle boat is being expertly handled against the thrashing waves. Poseidonblinks, and he’s inclined to say the person sailing is a woman, considering thebudding breasts and hips. But the hair is cut short, and the chiton is designedfor a man.

“What’s your name?” heasks.

“Caeneus,” his unexpectedrescuer answers.

That’s a man name, andPoseidon opens his mouth to questions it – then closes it again. “Thank you,”he settles on, “You saved my life.”

Caeneus finally steersthem to land, and Poseidon dismounts to help him pull and anchor his boat toshore. “Anytime,” he says cheerfully, “What did you do to make the Lady so mad,anyway?”

“You know her?” he asks,staring. This man appears to be a mere mortal, yet how could a human know thatwoman?

He grins at Poseidon andpoints out to the glittering sea. “We all do. She is the ocean itself, and justas powerful and unknowable. You better be careful not to anger her again – I don’tknow anyone who’s survived her wrath twice.”

“Right,” he says blankly,even though that’s unavoidable. He’s to be the god of the sea, and if he has towrest the mantle of monarch from her corpse then so be it.

Caeneus claps him on theshoulder, his work-roughed palm more comforting than anything else Poseidon hasknown since escaping his father’s stomach. “Come to mine, you look half dead. I’llmake you something warm.”

He takes a long look athis savior. Skin a dark shade of brown, and his eyes are amber in the settingsun. His black hair is cut short, and the muscles of his arms and legs shiftwith each moment. “Very well,” he answers, and is inordinately grateful that he’stoo cold to blush.

Caeneus takes him to hishome, a hastily constructed shack on the beach’s edge. The wind whips throughthe cracks in the wood so that no matter where you stand you’re always chilled.“This is the worst woodwork I’ve ever seen,” he says. He slides his hand acrossthe wall and is completely unsurprised when it comes away with splinters.

“I’m a sailor, not a carpenter,”Caeneus answers, intent on mixing together a bunch of ingredients Poseidon onlyhalf recognizes. “It stay upright.”

“Barely,” he returns,cupping his hands around the cup that’s shoved at him.

Caeneus doesn’t ask himto leave. Instead they squeeze onto Caeneus’s too small bed. Poseidon curls aroundthe smaller man, tangling their legs and tucking Caeneus’s head under his chin.“You’re so warm,” Caeneus murmurs, half asleep already, and Poseidon’s heartclenches.

He makes sure he’s asleepwhen he carefully, so carefully, lowers his head and brushes his lips against Caeneus’scheek.

When Poseidon wakes up,the sun is bright and Caeneus is gone.

He should go marchingback to the ocean, but first he has something important to do. He’s just notsure how to go about it.

He can’t ask Zeus, hisyounger brother knows plenty of war and not much else. Which leaves –

It’s easy enough to slipinto the underworld, although he regrets doing so the second he arrives. It’salmost completely dark, and lonely. Lost souls are immediately reaching forhim, cold hands brushing against his skin.

“What are you doing?” afamiliar voice demands, and Poseidon nearly wilts in relief when Hades appearsat his side and guides him away from the wailing souls. “It’s not safe here.”

“What’s wrong with them?”he asks, glancing back, his chest clenching at sympathy at their cries eventhough he knows there’s nothing he can do for them.

They slip through therealm, and they land in front of a partially built stone castle. The goddess Hecateguides them construction with her magic, her visage that of a young child sinceit’s still morning in the mortal realm.

Hades sits on the ground,and the skin beneath his eyes is dark and bruised. He looks like a strong windwould blow him over. “Nothing, everything, I don’t know. I’m working on it. Whyare you here?”

“I don’t suppose you knowhow to build a house?” he asks, though he doesn’t expect much. It seems he’snot the only one having trouble claiming authority over his domain.

His brother laughs, eyescrinkling at the corners. “You’ve come to the wrong sibling, little brother.”

Oh. That’s true. “Do youthink she’ll help me?”

“Yes,” Hades answers,lips still twitching. “Now leave me to my anarchy, I have more than enoughtrouble to deal with without you causing more.”

That’s fair enough.

Poseidon heads to Olympusnext, careful to peer around corners to avoid Zeus and Hera. Their marblepalace is already constructed, and he tamps down on the bitterness that theyrule unchallenged. In the center of the throne room, next to a roaring fire,sits Hestia.

“Sister,” he greets,tentative. “I need help building a home.”

She looks from her fireto him, and when she smiles he feels all his tension drain from his shoulders. “Ofcourse, little brother. If it is help you require, then it is help you shallhave.”

Hestia tears apart theshack with a flick of her hands, says, “I’ll ask Demeter for some better wood,”and is gone and back in the blink of an eye. They build it by hand after that,and Hestia’s soft voice guides him whenever he hesitates or stumbles. They aregods, so it doesn’t take too long, and when they finish they have a small,beautiful house right on the edge of beach, one with a large bed and lots oflight, one with a fire pit in the center that has Hestia’s name inscribed inthe bottom so that she may look over this home she helped build.

“Thank you,” Poseidonsays, the sun beginning to set.

Hestia winks at him, “Anytime,little brother,” and is gone in the next moment.

He hopes Caeneus likesit. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to stick around to find out.

He has a queen tochallenge.

He finds her again, inher palace of polished rock at the bottom of the sea.

“There’ll be no helpfulsailor to save you this time,” she says, head tilted to the side. Already thewater is colder around him, the current stronger.

He swallows, “I amPoseidon. I am to be the god of the sea.”

She glances him over,unimpressed. “Why do you want it so badly? There is nothing about you that is ofthe sea.”

“I am a god,” he answersblankly, and doesn’t say that it was this or the underworld, and that wasn’t amess he was willing to take on.

She snorts, a flicker ofamusement appearing in her emotionless gaze. “You are too soft, and too kind,to ever be a master of the sea.” He opens his mouth, but she raises a hand, andhe closes it. She takes slow, deliberate steps towards him, and he swallows anddoesn’t look away. “I will make you a bargain, Poseidon, god of nothing.”

“I’m listening,” heanswers, and tries not flinch when she places a cold hand against his chest.

“I am Amphitrite,” shesays, “sister of Gaia, and I have lived long before your conception, just as Iwill live long after your death.” Poseidon pales, and oh, he had no idea the class being he was dealing with here. Thisis very, very bad. “If you wish to rule the sea, then you must rule me.”

He swallows, “Lady, I – athousand apologies, I did not know–”

“Silence.” His mouthclicks shut. “I was born as I am, and I will die that way. But – I need notlive this way.” He doesn’t understand, and she must see that, because shetouches her own chest and says, “I have a heart as cold and dark as the oceansI bore. I will give it to you, and I and the sea will be yours to command. ButI require your heart in return, so that I may know kindness and softness.”

He doesn’t know what tosay. Hearts aren’t things to be given away lightly. But he must become lord of the sea.

“Take time, if you must,”she says, that same cold amusement in her eyes. “I am as immovable as the ocean,and I will be here when you make up your mind.”

He’s propelled up andonto the shore, far more gently this time around.

“POSEIDON!” he barelyturns when a body slams into him, and lips press against his. Caeneus pins hiswrists to the sand and kisses him, long and slow and more than distractingenough to make him forgot about the offer from the personification of the seaitself. “You built me a house,” he murmurs, “You built me a house.”

“Do you like it?” heasks, dazed.

Caeneus grins above him,wicked and beautiful, and rolls his hips into Poseidon’s. “Come with me, and I’llshow you how much I like it.”

Poseidon means to go backto the sea, to Amphitrite, but every morning Caeneus kisses him good morning.He learns of the sea, though. He goes out with Caeneus each day and learns itmotions and its temper, the taste and smell of it. Learns how to understand it,and learns how completely and totally uncaring it is, how the coldness of itsdepth is the totality of it.

The sea is not kind. Ithas no sympathy, no love, no capacity for such small things as forgiveness ormercy.

He means to return toher, but it becomes harder and harder every day.

Days turn to weeks turnto months. He and Caeneus grow closer, and closer, and Poseidon has no idea howhe’s supposed to turn his heart over to Amphitrite when it’s now held by amortal with amber eyes who leaves mouth shaped bruises all along Poseidon’scollar bones.

“Poseidon,” Caeneus says,quiet in the oppressive stillness of the night, head on his chest and curledinto his side. The moon is large and high, and pools silver on their bedroomfloor. “You’re a god, right?”

“I am,” Poseidon says,amused. Caeneus knows what he is, but this is the first time he’s mentioned it.

Caeneus pushes himself upso he can look down at him, and Poseidon reaches up to cup his face. Caeneusleans into it, covering his hand with his own. “Could you make me into a man?”

“You are a man,” he saysautomatically.

He rolls his eyes andpulls himself up so he can swing his leg over Poseidon, straddling his hips. “Youknow what I mean.”

Poseidon shifts enoughthat both their breaths hitch, and he says, low, “No. I’m sorry. I’m not – I haveno domain, and my powers are limited.” He could maybe do it, but transformation is not among his natural talents,and Caeneus is too precious to risk unless he is certain.

He’s disappointed, butsmiles through it, and leans down to kiss him. “It’s all right.”

It’s not. If Poseidonwere the god of the sea in more than name, if he had taken Amphitrite’s offer,he would be able to transform his lover like he desires.

He’s a god, brother ofZeus, and he can’t give Caeneus the one thing he’s ever asked of him. What goodis he, what good is any of his power, if he can’t make the people he loveshappy?

He’s flips Caeneus overand kisses his neck so his lover won’t see the self-hatred that’s plain on hisface.

Poseidon sneaks away inthe middle of the night, presses a soft kiss to his sleeping lover’s slack mouth,and enters the ocean.

“You’ve decided then?”she asks, head tilted to the side.

“I will not be a loyalhusband,” he declares, back straight. “I love Caeneus.”

She laughs, and for thefirst time he’s not afraid of her. “Do with your mortals what you wish. It’s noconcern of mine.”

“Okay,” he says, andsteels himself. “Okay. I accept your offer Amphitrite, sister of Gaia.”

She holds out her hand,nails more like claws, and tears open her own chest without flinching. Herblood slick and dark as it pours from her, swirling in the water around themShe pulls a dark, round thing from her chest and holds it out to him.

“I,” he looks down at hischest, and he doesn’t – he’s not sure if he can do what she’s done, and hewould feel foolish asking for a knife. Shesteps forward and places her hand with its claws against his chest, slippery andwarm with blood, and cuts open his chest for him.

It’s excruciating, andhis knees buckle against the pain of it. Amphitrite holds him up, and waits.

She can’t to this part.It has to be him. He reaches inside his chest and pulls out his heart, beating andwarm. He clumsily places it in her chest. It’s startlingly, violently redagainst the dark green color of the rest of the inside of her. She does thesame, slipping her own heart into his chest.

Their skin heals overinstantly. Amphitrite’s mouth drops open, and her cheeks flush pink. Shesmiles, small and soft, and for the first time she looks – happy.

Her heart in his chestcold as ice, and its chill suffuses his body, edging out to fill him entirely.

He can feel the oceannow, all of it spread across the globe, the tides and the creatures the residein it, it’s plants and animals and nymphs. “It’s so much,” he says, and is surprisedat the sound of his own voice, at its curtness.

“You feel only part ofit,” she says, stepping forward, “It is a force too powerful for a god tocontrol. I am a force to powerful fora god to control. However, you hold my heart. As I will now obey you, so willthe sea.”

“You could overpower me,”he says clinically, knows the power she wields by what he can’t feel ratherthan what he can.

She presses a hand to hischest, and they both startle. She’s warm now. She wasn’t warm before. Orperhaps he has simply grown colder. “I could,” she says, “but I will not.”

He has no reason to trusther, but he’s painfully aware that he doesn’t have a choice in the matter. “I’mgoing to Caeneus,” he says, and a sense of unease grows within him. Even theshape of his lover’s name in his mouth doesn’t feel the same anymore.

“Do as you wish, husband,”she turns from him, going deeper into her – their – palace.

This time, he uses hisown powers of the sea to push him to the surface.

It’s not as satisfying ashe thought it’d be.

gods and monsters series part x

#gods and monsters series #part one of two because this got too long #amphitrite's pov for the next one #thanks for all your sweet words anon!#i hope you liked it!#poseidon's origin story #also poseidon is asian #poseidon #amphitrite #caeneus #hestia #hades #greek myth #Greek Mythology #long post

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