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echo-rambles · 3 months

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use my body against me

summary: when a drunk text to your ex gets answered in a way you never expected, it leads to falling right back into old habits. tags: past established relationship, ex-boyfriend chan, suggestive content but nothing explicit, mention of recreational alcohol use, swearing. notes: title from the way you miss me by all time low. mostly a rewrite of my very first reader insert fic, because I loved the concept but I wasn't a fan of my own writing, and I think I've vastly improved since. I might write a continuation, but no promises.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The situation you currently find yourself in is truly one of your own making. There’s really no one else to blame, no matter how much you would love to point the finger at literally anyone besides yourself.

There’s a text message from Bang Christopher Chan sitting there, on your phone. Staring up at you almost accusatory and chilling you to the bone.

-Good morning, I hope you’re drinking water to combat all of that vodka you consumed last night! hahaha

At first, the text means nothing to you. It leaves you in a state of mild confusion only exacerbated by your incredible hangover. How would he know you drank your weight in liquor? The only answer you can even try to think up isn’t a good one. Feeling brave and a little nauseous, you decide to scroll up, farther into this conversation between you and your ex.

The confusion melts away into horror as you locate the beginning of this conversation. One glance at the selfie you sent has the memory coming back to you, causing your headache to flare. Oh no.

It was late last night, and you had already drank one too many shots of whatever fruity flavored vodka was available. Shut away in Felix’s bathroom, the light overhead far too harsh and fluorescent, pulling your shirt down enough to show off your cleavage. Snapping a picture in the mirror above the sink, leaning into the counter and trying your best to look some approximation of sexy.

Fumbling fingers sent it to Chan. The first text between the two of you in months.

Looking at the selfie now has your stomach twisting into knots. Oh no. The texts that followed aren’t any better. Actually, they somehow make the entire situation worse.

-the fact that i wore this shirt hoping you’d be at this party only to learn you went home EARLY?

-i wasted such an amazing outfit and for nothing

-i bet you looked good too. bastard

-sometimes i can’t tell if i miss you or just the weight of you on top of me

-i miss how good you were -i know fora fact i miss your mouth -i miss your mouth on MY MOUTH -omg i miss my mouth on your

You swipe away from those messages. Knowing for a fact you’ll have to read them eventually, to get a proper understanding of the things you said to him. But not right now. Right now you continue to scroll, your texts devolving into a mix of incomprehensible emojis and bitching at Chan about things he very obviously can’t control. You were a mess, holy shit. Who even let you text? Why wasn’t your phone confiscated the moment vodka hit your lips?

The only things that Chan has replied with since your terrible wall of drunk texts is an initial Oh wow lol, and his aforementioned good morning text.

It could be worse, right? He could’ve blocked you or typed out an excruciatingly long lecture about drinking responsibly. It honestly could’ve been so much worse.

Crawling your way out of bed, still vaguely nauseous and trying to fight the urge to lay face down on the floor and never get up again, you shuffle your way into the bathroom. First thing’s first before you tackle whatever the fuck is on your phone, you decide to wash up to feel human again.

The world can fall apart around you for all you care. All you want is a shower and some toothpaste.

Wrapped in a towel and your toothbrush sticking out of your mouth, you finally decide to reply. You probably shouldn’t, especially now that you’re sober and know better, but you have to apologize. That feels like the polite thing to do.

Well, the only way to begin is by beginning.

-lol hey good afternoon

-I ended up demolishing an entire water bottle when I got home last night but sadly it wasn’t enough to save me

How do you even apologize for last night? Sorry I was so angry and horny and I made it your problem? Sorry that the first time I've texted you since we broke up was a drunk thirst trap? So sorry, and hey by the way how have you been since we had the messiest breakup because you’re bad at prioritizing and I’m bad at communication?

Yeah, definitely none of that.

You’re still standing there in your bathroom, staring into the mirror and brushing your teeth on autopilot as your mind spins into itself, when your phone lights up. One notification followed swiftly by a second, making your phone buzz on the counter.

Chan’s contact stares back at you, both messages fading off into ellipses.

-Ah, RIP. You should’ve drank three…

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could…

Oh, you don’t think this is the sort of message you can read by yourself while still combating the aching nausea of a hangover. Absolutely not, whatever he has to say can be answered once you have a sufficient amount of caffeine and the right company.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

“I need a second opinion.” It’s the first thing you say, after sitting down across from Felix and shoving your phone at him. Showing off the string of text messages you experienced after waking up. You still haven’t read the newest text.

Felix barely even moves his head from where it’s resting against the table. He’s clearly just as hungover as you are, but you feel like you’re in the middle of making a very bad decision and you need a second opinion. You shimmy your phone under the seam where his forehead meets the wood.

With a little pout and deep groan, he’s shifting around and unlocking your phone. The silence stretches on as he swipes through the text thread and stares, blinks, and blinks some more. With a start, he’s sitting up straight, pulling the phone closer.

“Wait, he wants to meet up with you?”

“He wants to what?” You snatch the phone from his hands, finally reading the text yourself.

-Hey, I know this is last minute, but I was wondering if we could maybe grab lunch? Or, if you’re still too hungover for lunch, maybe something later?

Just the idea of seeing him again has something hot and electric buzzing through your veins. Your immediate instinct is to say yes. You want to say yes so badly, yes a thousand times over. Instead you very deliberately place your phone onto the table.

Felix has slumped back into his seat, eyeing you warily. “I thought you weren’t talking to him?”

“I mean- I wasn’t. But now I am, kind of? It’s not that big of a deal-”

“It felt like you two went through a divorce, I don’t know if I’d say it’s ‘not a big deal’-”

“I’m over it!” You proclaim, a little loudly. A little desperately. “And he is too if he’s talking to me.”

All you get in response is Felix’s eyebrows pitching inwards and his mouth molding into a little frown. The type of frown that is trying very hard to not be a frown. He’s giving you the most pitying look you’ve probably ever seen on his angelic face.

You should say no. Scoop up your phone and tell him that you can’t make it. Conjure up some far flung excuse so that you won’t reopen old wounds. But you want to see him again, desperately.

You tap your fingers along the edge of the table. “Is this a bad idea?”

“Do you want my truthful answer?” Felix replies from the depths of his hoodie. Your phone sits between you, dark screen facing the ceiling.

You think for a moment. “Yes.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

The thing is, you know he has a point. It doesn’t feel very good but it’s true. Sure, you and Chan can be amicable over text, but that’s over text. Who knows what will happen if you’re face to face. Would it be awkward and stilted? Or maybe everything you say to each other will be filled with vitriolic anger. Things didn’t exactly end on the best terms, and that might just leak into an otherwise pleasant meeting.

But you are nothing if not a professional at both denial and deflections, so you push all of those thoughts very far away.

Maybe this could be a new start. Maybe you and Chan could be the incredibly rare type of people who are friends with their ex. You’d like that, actually, to have Chan back in your life beyond some tertiary character you hear about from other people. Texting him reminded you how much you actually miss your best friend.

Snatching your phone up, you just barely restrain yourself from checking to see if you somehow managed to miss any new messages.

“It’s a friend thing! Friend’s hang out all the time. We're going to go get coffee or something equally platonic and we're going to ignore all of the drunk texts I sent him!” Your voice raises in pitch towards the end, and it sounds like you're trying to convince yourself more than anything else.

Felix gives you a very unimpressed look. “You told him that you miss the feel of his-”

“I know what I said!"

"In your mouth-"

"Thank you!”

Those texts are burned into your brain, you're well aware of the things you sent Chan. How they got more detailed the more you sent. Just remembering some of them has you flushing.

“I mean," Felix hums, oblivious to the direction your thoughts are taking. "I guess it could be a thing friends do.” There's too much sarcasm in his words for your liking.

“As if you haven’t said something similar to any of your friends.”

One of his eyebrows arch, and the gesture is so very pointed. “Any friend that I’ve gotten on my knees for was never at any point an extremely complicated ex.”

"Shut the fuck up." He's right and you hate it.

But still. You want to see Chan so badly. Finally you give in to the all consuming urge to reply. Opening up Chan’s contact, your fingers work quickly.

-I mean, if you’re paying…

-Of course I’ll pay haha

-then count me in!

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone cave so quickly.” Felix sighs, but there’s something all tangled into his words. Some emotion you can’t really identify right now. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounds hopeful.

“Seriously, shut up.”

“You came here asking for my opinion!”

“Well!” You huff, trying not to glance at the little typing bubble that appears under your fingers. Signaling that Chan is in the middle of replying to you. He wants to continue your stupid little conversation. Your heart does a funny little wiggle at the sight. “I’ll take what you said into consideration, I guess.”

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Felix was probably right, and that was such a complicated thought to have while Chan’s hand was currently palming you through your shirt.

See, it really had started out with grabbing coffee together. Something extremely casual with no pressure, the conversation just a little awkward at the start. Both of you trying to remember how to be civil towards each other, how to smile and laugh at jokes. It came a lot easier to Chan, as always. But you missed this. You missed being in the same space as him and hearing his voice and fucking hell, Felix was right; you’re so incredibly weak.

You tried so hard to keep things on track, really you did. The possibility of being friends was right there, laid out in front of you. But then Chan smiled- that small little smile where he ducks his head and bites at his lip and looks up at you from under those fucking eyelashes of his, and oh. You were gone.

He makes it almost disgustingly easy to be around him. It makes your head buzz.

Somehow the touch of your fingers against the inside of his wrist lead you to his apartment. Where he pins you to the wall and kisses you so deeply you can feel it in your toes. You almost forgot what it felt like when Chan put his full strength into holding you in place. It’s heady.

He still tastes the same. Somehow, in the midst of his hands gripping and tugging you closer, pressing your hips flush together, that’s the thought that floats its way to the forefront. Chan tastes the same, even after all this time where you never got to taste him. He feels the same too, a little wider, mostly in his shoulders, but still familiar. He makes the same little noise in the back of his throat when you run your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.

It’s all so familiar and you could choke on it.

You should probably talk about this. The making out, yes, absolutely, but also the last few months and the texts and him asking to see you out of the blue. It should be talked about, right? Except what would you even say? You’ll just rehash the same things you’ve been saying. You felt ignored and he felt suffocated and you could never find a way to meet in the middle because you’re both stubborn.

You should say something though, right? Right?

The press of his hand against the dip of your waist, pulling you closer, has you losing any semblance of what language even is. Words? Who needs them? He’s hooking his other hand behind your knee and hiking it up, guiding you to wrap your leg around him, and really all you can think about is how you aren’t close enough.

You sneak your fingers up under the hem of his shirt, feeling the expanse of his skin, and the sound of the breathiest gasp leaving his lips settles along the curve of your spine.

This doesn’t feel like a particularly good idea, but then he’s grinding against you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh, and it doesn’t really matter all that much.

“Is this a terrible idea?” He asks, practically breathing the words directly into your mouth, and you find it a little funny. Not only are you both having the same sort of thought, but it feels incredibly belated.

“Honestly Chris? I don’t really give a fuck.”

That gets him to laugh. Just the quietest little giggle into the skin of your jaw. His hand moves, until he’s grabbing at your ass and angling your hips higher, and it’s really such an inspired thing. The feeling of him, hard through his denim, pressing into you has a moan tripping out of you.

You definitely need to talk about this.

Chan keeps touching you, kissing you, undressing you. Little by little, constantly asking 'is this ok? Yeah? We can stop whenever you want-' because he's still a gentleman. You haven't been this close to him in months, but he's still so fucking considerate. It'd be more maddening if it wasn't so familiar. If anything it’s reassuring, filling you with a stupid amount of confidence. You know how to deal with this.

You repeat yes over and over, hands at his shoulders and licking the word into his mouth, no matter how much he asks.

He peels your shirt away, careful with the fabric, mouth already trailing down your neck, your chest, landing on the swell of your cleavage. Hands so wide, palms easily fitting to your bare waist.

"Just tell me to stop, and I will-"

Finally you snap. Like a live wire pulled too taut, reaching out to grab at his face. Pressing your fingers into the hollows of his cheeks, his chin resting in the curve of your palm. "Christopher, I'm so horny I feel like I might cry. So while I really appreciate what you're trying to do- if you don't rail me stupid in the next five minutes, I can't be held accountable for my actions."

"Oh, sorry." He blinks at you, a little slowly as he leans more of his weight into your hand. Your fingers dig into the meat of his face and you can feel something tense in his jaw.

"Don't apologize baby, just get on with it." This feels familiar too. Like slipping into a pair of beloved jeans. The fit so perfect.

His eyes light up in the next instant, sparkling and bright, and holy shit you're in for it now. "Say less, boss."

You don't know if you still love him, but you do know that you'll always love the feeling of his mouth on you. His hands. Leaving wet trails as he kisses your skin messily, sloppy. Clever fingers following in the wake of his tongue.

#stray kids #skz #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #echo writes #if I missed any warnings/tags just let me know!#anyway uhh please enjoy.#I do have plans for a part 2 but nothing concrete #we'll see if I want to continue this lol

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stargazer0001 · 2 months

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guys I actually did it!!!!! I stuck to my word and drew it!!!!!

#now watch this get 4 notes after 3 hours of work :')#sigh... tagging my hated </3 #rainworld #rain world #rainworld downpour #rain world downpour #rw spearmaster #bug fables #bug fables leif #bf leif #leif #hollowknight #hollow knight #hollow knight thk #hk thk #uhhhh am I missing any tags #if I am just let me know please

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missrosegold · 8 months

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and if my body should fade i'll trust you with my soul part II

Part I can be found here

Synopsis: You’ve always been able to see the man with white hair and charred skin around your village, even though it seemed that nobody else could.

Or, you ended up making a deal with death, and now he’s come to collect.

Word count: 30k

Paring: Dabi x Reader (fem reader)

Warnings: Mentions of death, strong language, smut, so Minors or ageless blogs DNI. This is rated 18+ Additional tags listed below. This does take place in a somewhat medieval inspired AU so there are some misogynistic tones in some parts of the story.

Playlist: Sparky Deathcap – September (we got fire) instrumental version, slowed.

Thank you once again to the lovely @candycandy00 for editing this for me, and another massive thank you to miss @kimkaelyn for making the banner for me! (I love it so much!)

You sigh to yourself as you check medical supplies in your village’s apothecary, making a mental note to tell the healer you’re training under that you’re running low on Feverfew and Echinacea.

Fall has arrived in full swing. The dense forest that surrounds your town has changed its leaves from vibrant green to beautiful shades of red and yellow. It’s beautiful, but you’ve never been much of a fall person. You know what comes next. The autumn months mean winter is close behind, and you’ve never liked the cold. For some reason, you can’t shake the feeling that this upcoming winter is going to be a particularly bad one.

You shake your head and return to your task at hand, but you can’t stop your mind from wandering as you continue to take stock of the medical inventory.

After the mysterious disappearance of your betrothed, your parents didn’t try to engage you to anyone else, and you can’t help but feel relieved. Marrying one of the men from your village was never in the cards for you, a fact that you made very clear to them after your formal betrothal’s disappearance. You weren’t interested in marriage or raising a family of your own. Not right now, possibly not ever.

In the end, you decided to train under your village’s healer – a kind old woman named Chiyo, who’s been the town healer for longer than you’ve been alive – as a means of getting out from under your parents.

Despite word of your betrothal’s mysterious disappearance quickly spreading throughout your village, there had been some other potential suitors that had come to you after you had started training at the apothecary. While none of them were rude or malicious, you always turned them down with a gentle smile before sending them on their way.

Besides, none of them held your heart the way a certain pyromancer did.

You haven’t seen Touya for a few months now, not since the disappearance of your betrothed. You’re not completely sure what happened after Touya found him – you’re not sure if you want to know, even though you have a pretty good idea of what happened if the fresh burns he had come back with had anything to say about it. You know better than to ask though, knowing full well that Touya will never tell you the full truth, even if you already know without him having to say it.

You sometimes wonder if there’s anything left of the blacksmith’s son.

You know that you should feel shocked, horrified even, that your pyromancer was capable of doing such an atrocious thing. But all you feel when you think about it, is a strange sense of relief.

You wonder if that makes you a bad person.

Inwardly, you know it probably should, especially when the blacksmith came looking for his son not long after his disappearance. When he had asked you if you knew anything about why his son had seemingly taken off without so much as a word to anyone, you had said no, of course, because what else could you have said to him? It’s not like anyone aside from you could see Touya to begin with, and there no way to explain to the blacksmith the fate that had most likely befallen his son.

Regardless, all you knew was that you’d never see him again. Touya had made sure of that.

There are still search parties that go out every once in a while, looking for him and a part of you wants to tell them that it’s a waste of time, that he’s nowhere to be found, but you won’t. It’s yours and Touya’s dirty secret to share now, and it will stay that way until you take your dying breath.

You suppress a sigh as you take a break from checking inventory, and your thoughts wander back to Touya of their own accord. He had warned you that he wouldn’t be back for some time after he had brought you home – he had serious business to take care of in the eastern part of the country, and he wasn’t sure when he’d be back. You hope he’s doing well, wherever he is.

Your heart clenches when you think of him. You’re not sure what you are anymore. You told him that you loved him, and even though he didn’t say it back to you, you’re certain that he loves you too.

“You know why.” Those words have echoed in your head since he said them to you. You’ve known that the two of you have been bordering on the cusp of something for a while now, and that solidifies it.

You promise yourself that the next time he comes to see you, you’ll ask him what you are to him. What this is.

Eventually, Chiyo dismisses you in the midafternoon, and you find yourself taking the lonely path up towards Dabi’s temple. You’ve started going there a lot more in Touya’s absence. Ever since you kissed the white-haired pyromancer in Dabi’s temple, you had started making a habit of coming back to the derelict temple, in an effort to clean it up a little.

For some reason, Touya seems to have a fondness for the place, and you’re starting to understand why. Despite its outward appearance and dust covered insides, you’ve never once felt unwelcome in the temple itself. It’s calm and quiet, and the more you visit the abandoned shrine, you realize it’s really a shame that it was abandoned by the priests, because it was probably quite beautiful back in the day.

With that thought, you had decided to take it upon yourself to try and restore the temple back to its original glory.

When you had brought up what you wanted to clean Dabi’s shrine to the priests at Hawks’s temple, you had been met with disbelieving looks, as the temple itself had sat vacant for well over a century. But once you had assured them that you weren’t there to cause trouble, and that you only wanted to clean it up a little, they had relented, and even gave you cleaning supplies, telling you that if you needed help, all you needed to do was come and get them.

You had laughed to yourself as you took the cleaning supplies back with you to the temple. The only reason why you had gone to them in the first place was to tell them what you planned to do, regardless of whether they liked it or not. Hawks’s temple was the closest to Dabi’s, and you’d end up walking past it to get to the secluded shrine more often than not. The last thing you needed was them assuming that you were doing something strange, when it was the exact opposite.

You soon found yourself in front of the large double doors once more, but unlike the first time you had entered the temple, you didn’t hesitate to let yourself in this time, shutting them softly behind you. You set your shawl down by the entrance and take off your shoes to avoid tracking any dirt in from the outside. You breathe in deeply as the faint smell of incense hits your nose, looking around the large room with a content smile on your face.

It’s not perfect, but its far better than what it was previously. You’ve washed and cleaned the floors and walls, sweeping out almost a century’s worth of dust and other debris. You’ve scraped the ancient remains of melted candle wax off the alter in front of Dabi’s statue, and replaced the melted down prayer candles with new ones. You brought in some pillows and plush rugs from home that your mother was about to throw out, not wanting them to go to waste, and also wanting to make the temple more homey, in case anyone aside from yourself wanted to visit. You keep incense burning constantly to get rid of the musty smell that has always lingered around the temple, and it finally seems to be working. Lastly, with the help of two priests from Hawks’s temple, you were finally able to fix that damn hole in the ceiling above the statue of the Cremation God.

Now you’re at the temple to do one last thing: clean the giant marble statue of the Death God himself. You didn’t see much of a point cleaning it before the hole got fixed, but thankfully, the sculpture doesn’t seem to be very dirty. Still, you want to go over it, and wash down what you can reach – it’s only polite after all.

Besides, after what you learned about him from Touya, you figure that it’s not a bad idea to stay in the illusive god’s good graces--

“Hello Princess.”

You jump at the sound of a familiar smoky rasp, and whirl around, only to see Touya standing a few feet behind you, a smirk plastered across his dis-coloured lips.

“Touya! When did you get here? I thought you said you didn’t know when you were going to be back! Did you finish with whatever you were doing in the East early?” you gasp delightedly, as the tall man strides towards you. He shakes his head.

“No, the situation there is a bit more… serious then I originally thought. I’m probably going to be there for a while yet, but I had some time, and I wanted to see you.” He stops directly in front of you, and his smirk becomes softer. “How have you been? I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve been… keeping busy.” You tell him, lacing your hands together in front of you. “I’ve started working at the village apothecary. Chiyo runs a tight ship, but I’m learning a lot from her and she’s good to me.”

“What did your parents think about that?”

“Well… they weren’t pleased, but that’s more to do with me telling them that I won’t be courting anyone anytime soon. I told them I wasn’t interested, nor will I ever be. My mother isn’t happy, but at least she hasn’t forced me into any other engagements… not after what happened before you left.” You tell him honestly, and Touya only nods, his expression not giving anything away.

“Glad they’ve finally taken the hint. What else have you gotten up to, pretty girl?”

“Take a look around, you tell me.” You tell him with a tiny smile. You watch his brows furrow together in confusion, and he looks around the room, only for his eyes to widen, like he’s seeing the temple for the first time.

You watch as he investigates the plush rugs and pillows you have scattered around the base of the alter, how he takes in the sight of fresh prayer candles lit at the bottom of the statue – how clean and bright and warm you’ve managed to make it, since you were both here last. He seems overwhelmed, like he’s at a loss for words.

“I did it for you.” You admit softly, feeling your face heat up with your admission.

“You did this… for me?” he asks slowly, not looking at you, as he takes in everything that you’ve done. You smile softly at him even though he can’t see it.

“You seem to be pretty fond of this place, and you know so much about its history, I thought that maybe I could fix it up a little so I could have something to show you when you came back.” That gets his attention, and he fixes his azure eyes on you, locking you in place.

“You did this for me.”

“I… yes… Do you not like it?” you sputter, suddenly worried that you’ve done something wrong.

“No, Gods no. You did this for me.” He says breathlessly. “This is more than I could have ever hoped for.” He closes the remaining space between you, and his obscenely warm hands find your waist, while yours automatically come rest on his chest. “God’s you did this for me.”

“Yes.” You whisper. “Touya? I don’t understand--?”

The words die on your lips as Touya surges forwards and presses his rough lips to yours. You feel the grip he has on your waist turn bruising, as he kisses you hard and deep, bordering on desperate.

“I love you.” He tells you, pulling away momentarily to bring one hand up from your waist to cup the back of your neck. “I love you. You were the first person to see me in so long – I knew you were different, I knew you were for me, and then you did this-“

He smashes his lips back onto yours, and you wrap your hands around his neck. Normally, you’d be mindful of his burns, but you’re so engrossed in his feverish kisses that you squeeze him tightly, and feel him moan into your mouth in response. He pulls back slightly for air, and pants heavily against you.

“Let me have you.” He growls against your lips. “Right here, right now. Gods help me I can’t wait any longer. I need to have you. I need you.”

“Okay, I—okay—yes.” You hear yourself gasping, and suddenly you’re swept off your feet. You feel your back hit something soft. Turning your head slightly to the side, you realize that Touya has placed you down onto a small pile of pillows. The realization of what you’re about to do hits you full force, but you don’t feel scared. You want this, you want him. You’ve wanted him for a long time.

Touya looms over you, caging you in, and runs the back of a heavily scared hand over your cheek. You shiver from the sensation of his feverishly hot skin and the cooler tones of the staples in his hand running over your skin. He gives you a wicked smile, as he sits back on his haunches, and starts to push your skirts up, revealing your bare legs.

You lurch up and grab his hands, forcing him to pause. He chuckles low in his throat at your actions, and pries your hands off of his own, placing a kiss on the back of one as his azure blue eyes meets your flushed face. “Relax my love. Let me take care of you.”

“It’s just- I mean, I’ve never done this before. I’m-“

“I know.” Touya damn near purrs, and you feel heat pool in your belly. “I’ll take care of you. I’ll be so gentle with you, I promise.”

You nod shakily and lower yourself back down onto the pillows, as Touya hikes your skirts up, revealing your legs and bottoms. He groans deeply as he kneads the plush of your thighs. “Fuck Princess, you’re perfect. Just like I knew you would be.”

“You’ve thought about me?” For some reason, his words of endearment strike a chord with you.

“Of course.” Touya murmurs, coming up to kiss you briefly, before taking your hand in one of his own. “Whenever I’m away, or I’m in the middle of a mission – alone and lonely – I think of you.”

He brings your hand down to his crotch, and sure enough, you feel a bulge underneath his pants. “See what you do to me?” he growls as he releases your hand so that he can work on shimmying your panties down your legs. You go to move your hand away, but he fixes you with a stern look. “Keep it there. Don’t move until I tell you to.”

You nod as he hooks his fingers into the band of your panties and leans back slightly to pull them down your legs, almost ripping them off in his haste. As soon as the offending material is gone, Touya gently wraps his hands around you knees and pulls them up so your feet are planted on the ground, before nestling his way back in between them, not taking his eyes off of the junction in between your legs.

“Gods.” He whispers. “Fuck.”

You feel him throb in the thick canvases of his pants as he runs a finger through your folds, causing you to shudder and clench around nothing. “God love, you’re fucking soaked.” Touya hisses, as he pushes your hand away from his hardness and rips his cloak over his head, revealing his bare chest to you.

In all the years that you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him this exposed. His chest is a patchwork of scars and staples just like his arms and face. Most of the skin is dead and badly burnt, but you do see some spots where there are still glimpses of healthy skin amongst the mess of purpled burns. Just like you suspected, his body is lean but ripped with corded muscles that bunch and flex with his every move. He looks like he was built by a god – a god with a twisted sense of humor – but you could care less. You think he’s perfect.

“You’re beautiful.” You tell him honestly – not wanting him to think you were focusing only on his burns – and he looks almost bashful at your words, letting a small chuckle escape him as he gently picks up one of your hands to press a quick kiss on the back of your knuckles.

“Look who’s talking.” He fires back at you, as he uses his thumbs to spread your lower lips apart. It should be embarrassing how wet you are from a little teasing, but Touya looks absolutely enthralled.

“Is all this for me?” he muses to himself softly. Before you can ask him what he’s doing, he bends down and swipes his tongue through your folds, causing you to moan loudly and try to slam your legs closed on impulse, but Touya is faster – forcing them to stay open with a hand on each inner thigh as he continues to lap at your pussy.

You whimper involuntarily from the ministrations, and Touya squeezes your thighs as he comes back up. “I know, I know love. I can’t wait any longer either. Goddamn-“ he almost snarls; his hands immediately going to his belt, as he unfastens it and tosses it to the side somewhere.

“I can’t believe someone as beautiful as you is letting someone like me do this to them.” he mutters as he pushes his pants down to just past mid-thigh, allowing his dick to spring free – and through you’ve never seen a man’s cock until now – you’re certain that it’s the prettiest one that you’ll ever see.

It’s long and thick and curves slightly upwards. It’s as pale as the undamaged parts of his skin and you think it looks quite lovely. You’re a little nervous about the size of it, but Touya doesn’t allow you to look at it for long, before he’s lining himself up to your entrance.

You swallow thickly as you feel how big and hot the head is pressed up against your tight entrance, and Touya must sense your hesitation, because he drapes himself over you, supporting himself on his hands, as he takes both your hands in one of his own, and gently pins them above your head, stooping down to kiss you once more.

“Breathe.” He murmurs, his breath ghosting over your lips hotly. “I’ll make you feel so good. Just lie back and breathe for me, my love.”

And with that, he slowly pushes himself in.

The stretch is delicious and you know that he’s ruined you for any other potential man. But there’s never been anyone else, has there? From the moment you officially met, it’s always been him. It will only ever be him.

Touya is cursing above you, but you can’t hear him – too lost in your own pleasure. It isn’t long before he’s picking up a steady rhythm, his hips hitting against yours with a wet smack. You’re so wet from his earlier teasing that he glides in and out with little resistance, and you feel your legs starting to shake from the waves of pleasure he’s inflicting upon you.

“Gods, how are you so tight?” Touya groans as he leans down to capture your lips with his. You kiss him back eagerly, wishing that your hands were free so you could wrap them around his neck, but he only tightens his grip on them when he feels you start to resist against his hold. He pulls back after a moment to take in your pretty face and glassy eyes, his hips not slowing down, as they continue to rut into yours.

“You’re mine.” He snarls hotly, swooping down to suck a mark onto the junction of your neck and shoulder, causing you to cry out and clench around him.

“You’re mine- fuck it, you’re mine, no one else’s.” He sucks another mark onto the other side of your neck, and you feel your eyes roll to the back of your head, as something in your lower stomach snaps – the wet sounds of your union becoming louder as you cum around his cock. Touya’s hips falter for a fraction of a second as he registers what happened, before he the last shred of restraint he had snaps, and starts pounding into you relentlessly, ignoring your sobs as he stimulates your already oversensitive insides.

“When you told me… that they had engaged you to that bastard-” He hisses lowly in your ear, as you continue to sob. “-I almost burnt your damn village to the ground. How dare they try to take what’s mine?”

A dark look enters his blue irises. “I wanted to fuck you right here in this temple afterwards – send a message to your parents and anyone else who thought they could have you, that you were spoken for.”

“Touya- I’m-“ you barely manage to choke out in between sobs. Your body feels like it’s on fire from his words. You feel the tell-tale signs of another orgasm quickly approaching, and you didn’t think it was possible for you to feel so good with the way he’s now mercilessly drilling into your insides. You had talked with your married friends about sex before, that was a given, but even they didn’t describe it as feeling this good.

“Tell me who you belong to.” He pulls away, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me who you belong to, and I’ll give you everything.”

“You!” You manage to scream out, voice cracking as he hits a particularly sensitive spot in you. “It’s you! I’ve always belonged to you—you alone! I’ve only ever loved—Oh GODS!” you wail as you cum around his length again. The glint in Touya’s eyes become frantic and his hips stutter as you spasm violently around him. He finally let’s go of your wrists, in favour of grabbing your hips with both hands to pull you down onto him and meet his powerful thrusts.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” He breathes. “Fuck love; I’m going to fill you full of me. Let the whole world – the gods – all of them, know you belong to me-“

You keen at his words, and he manages to grind out a breathy, “Shit-“ as he spills himself inside you, swooping down to capture your lips with his rough ones again, as he fucks his cum into you. You’re so blissed out, all you can do is wrap your arms tightly around his leathery neck, until his hips still; still buried deep inside of you.

Eventually you break the kiss, but Touya makes no move to get off of you. He moves his hands up from your hips, so he can take some of his weight off you, and rests his head on your collarbone, as he struggles to calm his palpating heart. You wriggle your hips and Touya grimaces, mouthing over one of the marks he sucked onto your neck.

“Wait.” He mumbles. “Give it a minute. It’s sensitive.” His comment pulls a laugh from you, and you feel him grin against your skin.

You stay joined like that until you feel his dick soften inside you, and Touya gently pulls out of you. You whimper at empty feeling, and close your legs as you feel a rush of fluid that you already know is a combination of both of your releases, leak out from in-between your legs. Touya smiles at your reaction, the staples in his face pulling slightly as he strokes the leg closest to him gently.

He rolls onto his back on the pillows beside you, and pulls you onto your side, so your head is on his chest. You listen to the rapid beating of his heart, and watch as his chest rises and falls with each breath he takes. It almost lulls you to sleep, but Touya suddenly speaks up after a moment, catching your attention.

“I am the only one allowed to see you like this.” He rumbles low in his throat, running a warm hand down your side, feeling the muscles jump underneath his touch. “No man, no one. You belong to me. I’ll take such good care of you.”

“But you’re going to leave me again.” You whisper, hating how you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “You said so yourself: you have unfished business in the East still. Who knows when you’re coming back…Besides… No one can see you aside from me. How can I possibly explain this to anyone?”

“It’ll be different this time, I swear it.” Touya shushes you, smoothing a hand over your hair. “I’m going to be in the East for a while yet, but when I come back, I’m going to stay here with you, for a long time. No more disappearing acts for a while.”

You lift your head off his chest to stare at him in shock, to gage if he’s saying it to make you feel better, but you see nothing but honesty in his eyes. He touches your cheek. “I promise little one. I’ll make it work. I will stay with you. For as long as I can.”

You don’t mean to, but you can’t stop the tears that well up in your eyes and spill past your cheeks at his promise, as you place your head down on his scared chest and cry. You don’t know how long you stay like that, but Touya makes no effort to get up – simply holding you close and murmuring sweet nothings into your hair as you weep.

It’s getting harder and harder to say goodbye to him every time he leaves. You feel like your heart is breaking inside of your ribcage, whenever he has to go. This time is no different, but it will certainly leave you feeling hollower than the other times that came before.

Eventually, once your tears have dried, you separate to get dressed and fix yourselves up. You’re straightening out your skirts as Touya tosses his dark traveling cloak back over his torso, obscuring his muscular chest from view. He must see you blushing, because he tosses you a grin over his shoulder at you, moving to grab your shoes and shawl for you from the front of the temple.

He kisses you as you wrap your shawl around yourself, and rests his forehead against yours. “Thank you.” He tells you, gesturing around the temple. “For doing this. It means more to me than you know.” You nod in response, and he intertwines your hands together as he leads you to the temple entrance and you exit together.

He kisses you deeply once more outside the temple. He has a pained expression on his face when he pulls away, and he looks like he wants to tell you something important, but something is holding him back. He’s quiet for a moment before he squeezes your hand.

“I need you to promise me something while I’m gone.” He tells you seriously, and you nod, signaling for him to continue. He sucks in a sharp intake of breath.

“Promise me that you’ll take care of your health while I’m away. If someone comes to the apothecary with a strange sickness, or any signs of odd infections outside of a normal fever – I want you to go home and stay there.”

You furrow your brows, not understanding what he’s saying, but one look at his face tells you that he’s deadly serious and it’s not open for discussion.

You agree that you’ll be careful, and you’ll keep your eyes open for anything strange, and that seems to put him at ease. He kisses you once more before letting go of your hand, and slowly backs away from you. Once he’s a good distance away from you, he smiles sadly at you, before a raging torrent of blue flames engulf him once more, and he’s gone.

Life in the village goes on as normal for the next two months. The brightly coloured leaves that once decorated the trees surrounding your village have started to fall off the branches with large gusts of wind as winter draws closer.

You throw yourself into work at the apothecary, grateful for how busy it keeps you. You haven’t heard anything from Touya for a while now, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going on in the East that has him so tied up. You haven’t heard any news from the Eastern part of the county in a long time, so if something big is going on, your town will probably be one of the last places to know. You don’t see much sense in worrying about it though, so you divide your time between visiting Dabi’s temple, and Chiyo’s teachings.

You’ve almost forgotten about Touya’s cryptic warning – until the stranger shows up in town one day. (Or rather, stumbled in – since he didn’t even make it three feet from the town’s entrance before collapsing in the streets, leading to several concerned townspeople finding him and bringing him to the apothecary for treatment)

He’s malnourished and sicker than you’ve ever seen anyone in your life. You and Chiyo spend days caring for him, with no results.

He dies one week after arriving in town, and is buried just outside of the village borders. An unfortunate tragedy, but you can’t save everyone. A harsh lesson that your mentor has drilled into you. You never even figured out what was afflicting him, though Chiyo think’s it may have been an advanced case of pneumonia.

At first, it was just him.

Then, another man got sick with symptoms eerily similar to what the stranger had.

Then it was two.

Then three.

Then twelve people in one day.

The number of infected only skyrocket from there.

Before you know it: there is an entire epidemic in your small town. Chiyo eventually figures out what it is, but by that point, eight people are dead and the number of people sick is quickly spiraling out of control.

Plague. The black plague of decay. Death.

Your parents beg you to come home, as they don’t want you around such a deadly sickness, and truthfully, you don’t want to be anywhere near it either – but you can’t leave Chiyo by herself. She’s the town’s only healer and she’s old. You know if something happens to her, the whole town is screwed, so you grit your teeth, mask up, and stay by her side.

For a while, things are going about as well as they can be. People are still dying at an alarming rate, but you and Chiyo somehow manage to stay healthy, and you keep trying to treat those who aren’t as sick the best you can with what you’ve got.

Then one day, you feel light-headed and nauseous out of the blue and you look down, only to notice an alarmingly dark black spot on your arm that you know wasn’t there the day before.

Everything goes downhill from there.

-----

Winter has arrived in your village full force, but you can’t see it. You haven’t seen anything outside of the four walls that make up your room for a while now.

You had caught the plague. The second you had shown Chiyo the black mark on your arm, she had immediately sent you away with some herbs crushed into a tablet for you to take to slow down the spread of the sickness.

Slow down being the key words. There was no cure for the decay plague. Once you had it, it was a death sentence. It was only a matter of time before it took your life.

Your parents had grabbed you and locked you in your room the moment they had seen you stumbling back from the apothecary. You hadn’t seen them face-to-face since. You only saw brief glimpses of them when they opened your door to slide food into your room on a tray, or when they came back to collect your dishes, though these days, you didn’t have much of an appetite.

They didn’t even have to let you back into the house once they saw the mark on your arm. But they still did without any hesitation. Despite knowing how ill you were going to become, they still insisted on taking care of you. You may not have agreed with their choices when it came to your personal life, but it was comforting to know that at the end of the day, your parents still loved you. Even if you went against everything they wanted for you.

A violent fit of coughing racks your frail body, and you automatically lift your arms to cover your mouth. When you pull your arm away, you cringe at the sight of red splattered across your forearm, before dropping it back down beside you on your bed with a muffled thud.

You can’t even look at your arms right now. Your skin, which used to be sun-kissed and clear, is now pale and speckled with ominous looking splotches of black, as the sickness makes its way through your body. You don’t even want to know what the rest of you looks like. You haven’t looked at yourself in a mirror since you were confined to your room. You’re not sure you’ll be able to handle what you see.

The room starts to spin around you and everything hurts. You close your eyes in a weak attempt to stop the jarring movement, but it does little to help you. Opening your eyes doesn’t make things better – your vison has become burry lately, and you can’t focus on anything anymore. Normally this would upset you, but you don’t have any strength left in you to care.

You know that you don’t have much time left. You don’t want to say it out loud, but you know your time is drawing closer. Based on the few times you’ve heard your mother – and on occasion, your normally stoic father – sob outside your door as they collect your untouched dishes, they know it too. You’ve held out longer than most people have, but you know that soon you’ll be making your way to the Underworld, it’s inevitable.

You only pray that all the visits you’ve made to Dabi’s temple over the last few months have paid off, and the Cremation God will be kind to you once he comes to collect you.

Dabi. His temple. Touya.

You feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes at the thought of your white-haired lover, as a single tear falls from your eye, and crashes onto your pillow, humble and silent.

You’re never going to see him again. You don’t want to acknowledge it, but it’s true. As far as you know, he’s still in the East while you’re here, dying in your room. As tempted as you’ve been to use his name to call him to you one last time, you won’t.

Powers or not, you don’t want him to potentially end up with the plague too. Not to mention, you don’t want him to see you like this. You don’t want him to remember you sick and frail as you are now. You’d rather have him remember you fondly: full of life and happy. There’s no need to put him through that kind of anguish.

Still, it doesn’t stop you from wishing you could see him one last time-

Suddenly, your room feels unnaturally warm. It’s been very cold lately, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re dying that it makes your room feel colder than it should, but now your room is borderline sweltering.

You swear that you see a faint blue glow out of your blurry peripherals, followed by the tell-tale smell of something burning, before the glow dissipates into nothing. The intense heat remains and even though you can’t see very well, you know that someone is in the corner of your room.

“Who is it?” you manage to rasp out and you hear the stranger’s breath falter, as if they weren’t expecting you to be awake. The stranger takes three slow, purposeful strides until they are at your bedside, hovering over you. You blink hard, trying to see who the intruder is, but your vision must be getting worse, because all you can make out is a tall, white being above you.

You have no idea who, or what you’re looking at and are about to panic, until the figure bends slightly, and two familiar, warm, rough hands cradle your cheeks like you’re the most delicate thing in the world.

Choked sobs rack your body despite how much the movement hurts you, because you know who’s by your side, even if you can’t make out his finer features. Your suspicions are confirmed the second you hear his low, gravelly voice.

“Beloved… what has happened to you?”

“Touya… is that you?” you whisper, and you feel his fingers tense under you. His thumbs swipe at your cheeks, even though you can’t seem to make any more tears to shed.

“I’m here beloved. I’m here now.” he rumbles quietly. He falls silent for a moment, then you hear him ask “ Why didn’t you call me to you?”

He sounds… sad… heartbroken even.

“I didn’t want you to see me like this…” you trail off, not knowing what else to say. Touya doesn’t seem to know either, but from the way he sighs, you think he’s holding back tears as well.

“Did I not tell you to be careful?” There is no anger behind his words. Just defeat. You don’t think it’s directed at you though.

“I know.” You tell him, wishing desperately that you could lift your arms up enough to touch his face like he is doing yours. “It just happened so suddenly. There was a strange man who got sick, and then the next thing we knew, almost the whole town was plague-ridden. I couldn’t leave Chiyo by herself.”

“I know.” Touya sighs. “Are you… are you comfortable?”

“I can’t see very well anymore… I think I’m dying very soon.” You admit softly. You manage to reach up to cover one of his hands with your cold one. “You shouldn’t be here… as much as I love seeing you one last time, you might catch the plague as well – I don’t want that for you.”

“The plague doesn’t affect me. Don’t worry yourself about it.” Touya murmurs gently, and you swear you faintly see something red and thick, roll down his face. He leans down to press a light kiss to your forehead, and you’re not sure why, but suddenly your vision clears, and you’re able to see the best you have in weeks. You look up at him in wonder, only for your breath to catch in your throat.

Instead of his normal dark clothes that you’re used to seeing him in; Touya is dressed in a flowing, white burial shroud that exposes his chest. It makes him look eirthral, like a ghost that had come back from the grave. What really concerns you though, is the right side of his face – the side closest to you. The burnt flesh on his lower jaw by his mouth is gone, and you swear that you see the bone underneath starting to appear.

“Touya—Touya what happened to you? What have you done to yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me. It looks worse than it is.” Touya grumbles, dismissing your concerns. “The person that you should be worrying about, is you.”

“I think it’s a little late for that, love.” You tell him softly. “I’ve been sick for a while now… I’ve held out longer than a lot of other people have, but I think my luck is running out fast.”

This time you know you’re not seeing things. You watch in shock as a large droplet of blood oozes out from underneath the burnt skin under his eye and slowly rolls down his face, leaving a shiny red trail behind it as it makes its way down his ruined skin. You try to bring a hand up to wipe it away, but Touya beats you to it, releasing your cheeks long enough to turn away from you and compose himself.

“That crusty bastard. He promised me that he would keep it away from here… guess it got past him too-“ you hear Touya mutter under his breath. “It doesn’t matter now, gods… fuck.” He turns to face you again, and you see a red streak running along the side of his face, where he tried to wipe the blood tear away. His hands return to yours, and he wraps them up tightly.

“I tried… I tried so fucking hard to keep it contained. I thought, if I could contain it to the East, then it wouldn’t spread and it wouldn’t come here, to you. Even though I’ve seen it happen, so many times over the years. I thought I could change it.”

“Touya what are you talking about, you’re not making any sense.” You beg him, but he doesn’t seem to hear you, too wrapped up in his own head, as he squeezes your hands in his own.

“It’s not fair. You’re so full of life. I don’t want you to die like this.”

Something in his gaze shifts and the sadness from earlier is gone. Instead, a determined look has appeared in its place. He cradles the back of your head and neck with one of his hands as he gently lifts your head up to him, flinching at your pained whimpers.

“Do you trust me?” he asks you urgently.

“Of course.” You whisper, your vison is starting to darken again, but you try and keep your focus on Touya’s bright blue eyes.

“I can stop this.” He murmurs. “I can stop this and save you and what’s left of your town. But you need to make a deal with me. Do you accept?”

“A deal…? Stop this… I don’t…” you whisper, and Touya squeezes your hand, desperate to keep your attention on him.

“The full extent of my abilities come with a price. I can save you, but at a cost.”

“What’s the price?” you find yourself asking. You’re not sure how he intends to save anyone from something as severe as the plague with no cure; much less yourself, considering that you’re almost certainly on death’s doorstep, but you’re curious. Even if you’re beyond saving, maybe your town still has a chance.

“You.”

“Me.” You echo, still fighting to keep your gaze on him. “Why?”

“I told you already, you’re mine, you’ve always been mine. But this will bind us to each other indefinitely. Your life will become mine in exchange for me removing the sickness from you and your village. Do we have a deal?”

“Am I really worth that much?” you tease hoarsely, as you feel your eyes start to close against your will.

“You mean more to me than anything in this pathetic life.” You hear Touya grind out. “Let me do this for you. Please.”

He squeezes your hand, and his next words sound almost desperate. “I’ve never begged anyone for anything in my lifetime and I’ve lived a long time. Please let me do this for you.”

You know that under different circumstances, you wouldn’t agree to anything like this. Touya’s words are carrying an underlying weight to them, and you know there’s something that he’s not telling you. Normally, before agreeing to anything, you’d make sure everything was out in the open and that there weren’t any catches to your deal… but really, how much time did you have to ask about the finer details?

You were out of time. You knew it, and he knew it too.

Really, how bad would it be being his? Wasn’t that what you always wanted anyways?

“I accept.” You whisper, as your world fades to black, not even sure if Touya heard you or not.

He did.

The next few moments are a whirlwind. You feel Touya stand up above you and his hands go to your left forearm – to the spot where you first noticed the sickness. It’s arguably the worst spot on your body. The darkness has spread underneath your skin and takes up almost your full forearm now.

You feel his warm hands press into the skin of your forearm, and for a moment, nothing happens. Then his hands start to heat up, hotter and hotter, and you can smell something burning. You don’t know whether it’s your flesh or his, but you don’t have the energy to scream out, even though the pain is excruciating.

There’s a bright blue flash and you feel something being seared into your arm – in the same spot where your original plague mark was. Heat spreads through your body like a wildfire, and you feel like you’re being burned from the inside out. Suddenly, as quickly as the pain started it’s gone.

You’re shaking, gasping for air as you try to control your rapidly palpating heart, but you can’t open your eyes. Exhaustion hits you full force, and you feel what little strength you had left in you bleed out. Touya is still there, and you feel him slowly ease you back down onto your pillow, placing your arm down at your side once more.

“Rest now beloved. I’ll see you soon.”

No sooner than he says those words, you feel yourself slip off into slumber, and you allow the darkness to take you.

You wake to the sun streaming across your face

It’s the first time you’ve seen any hint of the sun in months, and at first, you think that you’ve died, but the tell-tale signs of stiffness in your muscles tell you that you’re still very much alive, if not very dehydrated.

The thought draws you up short.

You’re alive. You’re alive when you probably shouldn’t be. That means… Touya… he’d done it.

A burning feeling races through your left forearm and draws you up short. You slowly bring your arm up to look at what’s causing the pain, only for your eyes to widen impossibly.

The dark stain under your skin caused by the plague is gone, as are all of the other signs of sickness that had marked your body. What is on your arm, is nothing short of confusing.

A strange symbol is on your arm, in the spot you remember Touya gripping the hardest. A long, straight line runs horizontally done your forearm with three smaller lines running through it. Another long, straight line along the top of the first line completes the marking, and you stare at it in shock.

It covers the spot where you had your original plague mark, almost as if you’d never had it at all.

You reach out and gingerly touch the mark, only for your door to open suddenly – causing you to yank your nightgown sleeve down in a hurry. You glance over to see both of your parents standing in your doorway. It seems to take them a moment to process that you’re awake, and seemingly plague free, before they rushed to your bedside and have pull you into a tight hug.

“You’re awake! Thank gods you’re awake! We thought that we lost you for sure!” your mother sobs, as she clutches you to herself. You’re shocked, and you ask her what she means, only for her to hold you tighter.

“You’ve been asleep for three days. You wouldn’t wake up! Nothing we did worked.” Your mother cries, and you feel your heart drop.

Three days? What did that mean for everyone else?

“We’ve heard from Chiyo that all of the patients at the apothecary have also recovered. She’s not sure how, but the plague seems to have disappeared.” Your father states gruffly, as he strokes your hair. “It’s some sort of miracle.”

Yes, and his name is Touya. You think to yourself. Just what was he, to be able to have the power to dispel a sickness as deadly as the decay plague from an entire town?

“We do have a visitor downstairs, if you feel up to meeting with him.” Your mother informs you as she passes you a cup of water. “Some of the priests are visiting homes on Chiyo’s orders, to check in on families and see if anyone is still sick. The head priest from the Endeavor temple is here. I’m sure he’d love to check in on you now that you’re awake.”

You don’t particularly want anyone to see you right now, knowing that you must look awful and you would much rather go find Touya, provided that he was still in town somewhere – but you nod anyways. Your mother tells you to take your time getting ready, as she and your father leave your room, saying that she would tell the priest to wait downstairs.

The process to get ready is painfully slow. Your muscles are weak from a lack of use, but you’re able to wash yourself if you move carefully. You slip on a clean dress, making sure that the mark on your forearm is fully covered, and run a brush through your wet locks before deciding that was enough, and gingerly make your way downstairs.

You slowly make your way into the living room where you see the priest from Endeavor’s temple sitting in one of the armchairs, waiting for you. He’s a large man, dressed in Endeavor’s traditional colours: dark blues and fiery oranges and reds. Your parents leave when you enter to give you some privacy and the priest points to the chair across from him.

“Have a seat girl.” He tells you, and you sit without a word. You fidget uncomfortably as he looks you over carefully, before finally speaking. “Chiyo specifically asked me to come check on you and see how you’re doing. She wanted to thank you for all your help at the beginning of this mess. She wanted to come herself, but she has a few things to take care of at the apothecary. She sends her regards.”

“Oh, it was my honor. I couldn’t leave her there all alone.” You tell him, lifting your arm to wave off his praise without thinking about it. You realize your mistake too late, as the sleeve covering your forearm slowly rolls down to your elbow, revealing the mark etched into your skin.

The priest stops dead the second he glances at your forearm, ad his eyes widen impossibly. He points shakily to the mark etched into your arm. “Where did you get that from girl? Who did that to your arm?”

You hesitate. How can you possibly explain Touya to him? No one aside from you could see him. They’d call you mad if you tried to be honest, and would cast you out from your home. What would you do then?

‘I… I don’t know if you’d believe me if I told you.” You mutter, clutching your arm close to you. “Why, what’s so special about this mark?”

“That is Dabi’s seal.” The priest hisses as he snaps his fingers at you, and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. “I haven’t seen a mark like that for decades now, but he is closely connected to my lord Endeavor and I’d recognize it anywhere. It has been rumored that he puts that mark onto people who enter into deals with him. I’m wondering how you ended up with it on your arm.”

Your world crumbles around you at his words, and the illusion that you had unknowingly walked into, shattered.

Dabi, Touya, Dabi, Touya, Dabi, Touya, Dabi, Touya-

Touya is Dabi.

How could you not have seen it sooner? Looking back on it, the signs were obvious: how he knew so much about Dabi – or rather, himself. How he could seamlessly travel across large areas with very little effort. How he had powers that far surpassed any mage or race you’d heard of. How he never seemed to age… How his body had lasted so long despite the burns that were very clearly getting worse as time passed by-

The thought draws you up short. A hazy memory of Touya standing over your deathbed. A chunk of his flesh missing from the side of his mouth… looking more worn down than you could ever remember seeing him… Suddenly, you have to find him.

And you think you know exactly where he is.

“I-I have to go.” You mutter, shakily rising to your feet. The priest tries to get you to sit back down, but you shove him off. You barely have time to throw a light shawl around your shoulders and put your shoes on, before you’re running out the door in the direction of Dabi’s temple, ignoring the surprised shouts of your parents.

You are reminded how weak your body currently is, as you have to stop and catch your breath several times on the way to the temple, ignoring the looks that a few curious townspeople are giving you, as you eventually make your way to the temple.

This time, you don’t need to reach for the doors, since they seem to open on their own for you. You step through the entrance and they close behind you softly, shutting you away from the sunshine outside. You notice the temple is seemingly empty, but the prayer candles are lit at the base of Dabi’s statue, and the flames are blue.

He’s here, somewhere, you know it, you feel it, but for some reason, he hasn’t shown himself to you yet. It makes you worry and prompts you to call out his name softly.

“I’m here, beloved.”

The familiar rasp of his voice echoes from behind the larger-than-life sculpture. You smile in spite of yourself, and move closer to the sound of his voice, where you can just make out a shadowy figure partly concealed behind the base of the stature.

“Don’t come any closer.” The harsh growl makes you pause.

“Why?” you ask the shadow and you see two familiar blue eyes staring back at you from the gloom.

“You’re not going to like what you see.”

You hesitate for a fraction of a second before you shake your head. “I don’t care. You know I don’t care about what you look like.” You swallow before adding on. “I think you and I need to talk about some things… about you.”

“So, you figured it out?” the figure rumbles, and you nod.

“There are some things I need to know. Things that I need to understand. But please, I just want to see you. Come out.” You extend your hand towards the shadow, and hear him sigh deeply, before shuffling closer to you.

A burnt hand takes hold of yours, dwarfing it, and the man—no, the deity, pulls himself into the light provided by the candles. He watches as your face changes from confusion, to shock realization, then to—

He doesn’t think he can do it; he can’t watch as you reject him. He knows that he doesn’t look pretty. He looks like a walking corpse and he knows this. He looks more dead than alive and honestly, he is. He knew he shouldn’t hang around the temple, knowing that you’d eventually come looking for him once you had recovered enough, but he’d wanted to see you one last time before he made the inevitable trip back home to the underworld – even if it meant you seeing him like this—

“Oh, Touya. Did… did you do this to yourself to cure me?” you whisper so softly; he wasn’t sure if he heard you correctly. He risks glancing back at you, only to see that your face hasn’t twisted in disgust upon his reveal. You’re holding his hand so tightly, like you’re afraid that he’ll crumble to ash if you don’t, and maybe he would, he’s not sure anymore.

Your eyes meet his, and he sees unshed tears in them. There is no repulsion or fear in your eyes like he thought there might be, there is only concern and worry for him, and he feels his once dead heart thunder in his burnt chest.

He wishes he could feel the texture of your soft hands on him again, but the burns are deep and have spread everywhere now. All he can feel is pressure on his hand where you’re holding it in your own. Suddenly, he feels more vulnerable than he has in a long time.

You stare back at him, trying your best not to shed the tears you feel forming – knowing that they won’t help anything. What remained of Touya’s once beautiful, pale skin is gone. His entire body is covered in deep russet scaring. The mess of staples that he hadn’t bothered to remove or replace, were scattered across his body where they had once held the damaged and healthy skin together. Parts of his body – where you assume the skin had been thinnest on him – are burned almost completely down to the bone. The skin by one side of his mouth is almost gone, and the flesh near his wrist on his other hand – the one that he didn’t give you – has been burnt down to where you can see the tendons flexing when he moves.

He's still wearing the white robes from before. He looks like a wraith, a sight that would terrify even the bravest of people, but it stirs no such feelings in you.

“Does it hurt?” You whisper, not knowing what else to say. He shakes his head.

“I can’t feel anything anymore.”

“Oh.” You croak, not sure if his answer made you feel any better. It doesn’t, but you try not to let it show on your face.

The deity gently removes his hand from yours and moves several paces back from you, as if he’s trying not to upset you. You feel a lump rise in your throat, but push it down. “Did you do that to yourself to cure me from the plague?” you ask him again and he only nods once.

“You and what’s left of your town. I told you; I make good on my promises. It’s the blowback that gets me. Shigaraki won’t like what I’ve done, but he can’t do anything about it.”

You frown at the mention of the other name. You swear that you’ve heard it before somewhere, but you can’t place where from. Maybe if you remember, you’ll ask him about it later, but right now, you have other things you need him to clarify.

“Can I ask you something, my lord?” Dabi snorts at your formalities, and waves you off.

“Please. None of that from you, Princess. If I wanted you to call me by my titles, I would’ve made you do it when we first met.”

You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips. You’d been slightly worried that knowing his identity would change the dynamic of your relationship with him. Thankfully, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“How come I could see you when no one else could?” you question him. Dabi pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to figure out how to explain himself.

“Honestly, I don’t know.” He responds after a moment. “We walk amongst mortals all the time; we’re just hidden in plain sight. Some humans are different than others, and are able to see us for what we really are, but most mortals can’t see through our disguises. I choose to be invisible, it’s much easier to do my job that way. Normally, the only time humans can see me is when I come to collect their soul, or when I let them see me purposefully. But you,” he fixes you with his intense stare that you’ve grown used to.

“you were an abnormity. I’ve only ever met one or two other mortals in my time alive that were able to see me, even when I was invisible to everyone else.”

“What did you do to them?” you don’t know what prompts you to ask. Dabi looks away from you.

“I killed them.”

“Why though?” You’re not sure if you want to know his reasoning, but this may be the only time you get to ask him.

“Because no one is supposed to see me – it’s taboo. The only time I’m supposed to be visible to mortals is when I come to take you to the Underworld with me. I can’t let people wander around telling others that Death himself is coming. Do you know how much chaos that would cause on the surface?” Dabi snickers to himself.

“But I could see you, and you didn’t kill me.” You press. Dabi lets a small smile pull at what remains of the muscles in his cheeks.

“No, I didn’t.” he agrees quietly.

“Were you going to?” you ask, remembering how tense he was the first time you met face to face.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you?” You’re not mad about the revelation. You’re just curious. What made you so different from the others that came before you?

“I was going to… But something told me not to.” Dabi trails off, seemingly not having the words to describe why he did what he did. “I couldn’t tell you why I hesitated back then… but I’m glad I did.” The hint of a smile ghosts across his face. “You’re so beautiful. I couldn’t predict everything else that came afterwards. But I’m certainly not complaining.”

Your face flushes a brilliant shade of crimson when you realize he’s talking about when you fucked in this temple… his temple.

You can’t bear to bring yourself to meet the smug look in his eyes, so you try to compose yourself best you can, but it’s hard when you feel his oceanic eyes boring into your being.

“I… I just have one final question to ask you.” You stammer out, trying to fight down the colour in your cheeks that you know he can see. The burnt deity nods, signaling for you to continue. You suck in a breath, suddenly nervous for some reason.

“What… what exactly does this mark that you’ve given me mean? To you, that is.” You ask, touching the mark on your arm with your other hand, and you swear that you hear Touya- no, Dabi, bite back a moan.

“It marks you as mine. To humans and other gods alike, it means you are mine and under my protection.” He growls, a possessive edge in his raspy voice.

“Is that all?” you probe softly. Dabi bites back a laugh, and fixes you with a warm expression, blue eyes glowing like a cat in the dimly lit temple.

“What do you think?”

He answers your question with another question, but it’s weighted. The mark definitely has another meaning to it, you’re sure of it, but you want to hear it from him.

“I think it means something more… but I want to be sure. I don’t remember the finer details of our conversation, since I was… well… dying.” You shrug, trying and failing to look nonchalant. You don’t particularly want to be reminded of that time.

Dabi must see it in your expression, because he immediately drops the teasing act and takes a hesitant step towards you, slowly, as if he’s trying not to scare you.

He points at your arm and you lift it up so he can see the symbol burned into your skin. “That is my personal mark. It means that you’re not only under my protection… but it also marks you as my consort.”

Your eyes flick up to meet his, and you can tell that he’s not joking. He’s deadly serious.

“Your consort? You mean, like… like a bride?” you breathe, hardly daring to believe it. Dabi cracks a smile.

“So that’s what you humans are calling it these days. Yes, you are. Unlike some of my kin, I don’t take multiple wives. It’s just you.”

It takes a moment for his words to sink in, but when they do, you have to fight yourself to stay upright.

“Oh gods. I’m the bride of a god.” You mutter, swaying slightly in place. “You’re a god. You’re an actual god.”

The burned deity only chuckles. “I can’t believe that you never figured it out. It’s not like I was trying to hide it from you at the end there.”

“I mean… It’s obvious you weren’t human, but I didn’t think you were a God.” You mutter. “You just… you acted so… casual. Not like what I’d expect a God to act-- not that I’m complaining of course!” you add on as you hear Dabi let out an amused snort.

You point up at the statue of Dabi- or rather, him. “Besides, it’s not like I knew what you looked like. You’re always depicted with a hood over your face.” You frowned. “Why is that exactly? You’re not wearing a hood. You’ve never worn one when you’re with me. The only time I ever saw you with one was when you were traveling. Not as you are now. You never let any of your disciples see you?”

“They depict me like that because it’s easier that way.” Dabi explains smoothly. “My face changes depending on what part of my… cycle I’m in. Sometimes I look like how I did when we first met – other times I look like… well, this.” He gestures to himself after a brief pause. It makes your heart ache.

“My kind are supposed to be divine beings. Perfect. I am not. I don’t need to be depicted looking like a walking corpse to the few people who still worship me and visit my temples.”

His gaze flicks back up to you. “You were never supposed to see me like this.”

You know that you shouldn’t psychoanalyze him, but you can’t help but find him endlessly fascinating. He may be a god – a divine, primordial being – but his emotions were so very human.

He may go by many different names, but Dabi was Touya. Your Touya, the man you fell in love with over the years you spent getting to know him. The man who would willingly burn down your village to keep you by his side, only to save it in its time of need, for you.

What he looked like was irrelevant.

“What you look like doesn’t bother me.” You tell him softly, taking a hesitant step closer to him. “It never has. You know that.” Touya’s muscles flinch, like he’s fighting against moving away from you, but he stays rooted to the spot as you slowly advance, until you’re close enough to place a hand on the exposed part of his chest – right above his heart.

“I will love you no matter what form you take, because no matter what: you’re still Touya. You’re still the man I love. God or not, you always will be.”

You lean forward and press your lips to what is left of the flesh around his mouth, and you feel him release a shuddering breath, as his arms come up to wrap themselves tightly around you. You pull away slightly to tuck your head against his chest, returning his embrace, ignoring the burnt smell that always clings to him; and you feel him rest his chin on your head.

You don’t know how long you stay like that for, but eventually Touya reluctantly removes his chin from his spot on your head, and lowers it so he can speak directly into your ear.

“I have to go.”

You try and pull away so you can look him in the eyes, but his arms keep you tightly pressed up against him, like he’s afraid that if he lets you go, you’ll turn to smoke and disappear.

“But… you said that we’re bound to each other now? You promised me that you wouldn’t leave again-“

“I know, but this will be the last time I leave without you, I promise.” He rasps in your ear. “This cycle is at the end. I’m dying.”

You feel your heart clench painfully at his words, and suddenly, you’re taken back to the spring, where he took you to his temple for the first time, and where he unknowingly to you, explained his history. Where he also revealed that gods themselves could die, however difficult it was.

“You’re… you’re dying? How, why? I thought you said it was almost impossible for you to die?”

You feel Touya shake his head and squeeze you again. “It’s different in my case. I die a lot. But the difference is: I come back. It just takes a while.”

“I don’t understand, please Touya, what do you mean?” you feel frantic, and cling to his robes like small child. “I-I can’t lose you!”

“You won’t.” Touya promises you firmly, pulling back to fix you with an unwavering look. “It’s difficult to explain, but I’m more like a force of nature then a ‘traditional’ god. My power is great, but it destroys my body and I ‘die’. However,” his eyes narrow dangerously as he thumbs over the mark on your arm, “I’m a god of the Underworld, and we play by different rules than those that reside upstairs.” He points a finger mockingly up to the roof of the temple.

“I have what you humans call a ‘cycle’. Whenever I ‘die’ I return home, so that I can rest and regenerate my body. Eventually I come back to how I was before I got all of my scaring, and start again. The cycle repeats itself over and over again on an endless loop.” He sends you a crooked grin.

“That’s the other half of my secret: Cremation and Reincarnation tend to go hand in hand. But nobody needs to know that except for you.”

“How many times have you done this?” you breathe, but Touya only shakes his head, shooting you a forced smile.

“More times than I can count. I’m not the oldest God in the pantheon Sweetheart, not by a long shot, but compared to you, I’m ancient.”

“Oh.” You murmur. trying to fight down the blush at the stark differences in your ages, and Touya’s smile becomes more relaxed. You fist your hands at the front of his robe and try your best to return his smile. “So, you’re going to come back… for me?”

“Yes. I’ll eventually return to my original form. But it’s going to take me a while to regenerate.”

“Oh gods, you mean I’m going to be an old woman by the time you come back to get me.” You joke, trying your best to lighten the somber mood, and Touya barks out a laugh.

“No, no. It won’t take that long, I promise… but, that being said, it won’t be anytime soon either. I’m sorry.”

You nod, and try to relax your grip on his robes. You smooth your hands over the soft fabric, and inwardly you hum in delight, as you feel Touya’s abnormally warm hands run down your waist. He brings one hand up to your chin and gently tilts your face up to meet his.

“I will be back for you. Make no mistake about that.”

You feel his other hand glide up to your left forearm, the one that now bares his mark, and press on it possessively. “This binds us together. I’ll make good on my promise, and when I come back for you: I’m going to take you around the world with me, just like I promised you I would. I’ll give you everything.”

You feel your eyes water with his declaration. The sincerity in his eyes tells you that he’s not bluffing. He will be back for you the next time he comes to your humble village, and he will show you the world if you so choose it.

“…How will I know?” You finally manage to ask him quietly.

“How will you know what?”

“How will I know that you’re coming back to get me?”

Touya lets a deep laugh rumble out of his throat, and pushes his face close to your ear so he can whisper directly into it:

“Oh, don’t worry… you’ll just know.”

-----

Three years have passed since that day.

Spring has come again, symbolizing rebirth and renewal, and yet seemingly nothing has changed in your little village. You still work at the apothecary with Chiyo, but now you spend most of your time at Dabi’s temple, keeping it clean, and trying to educate those who visit it, more about the reclusive Cremation God.

More people have started to visit the temple in the three years since you last saw Touya, and you’d like to think that he’d be pleased if he could see it. You’re headed to the temple now to do your daily cleaning, and make sure that everything is orderly, before you head back home for the night.

You smile as you watch a group of small children run past you, as you think back to the day that Touya had left you one final time.

Word had spread like wildfire after you had returned from the temple that day – about how you had made a deal with the elusive Cremation God himself to cure the town of its plague, and how you now bore his mark on your own skin, binding you to him.

You thought that you’d be ostracized, a pariah in your town – but surprisingly, the majority of people seemed to accept it with very little backlash. You suppose that’s the closest to thanks that you’ll get for playing a part in saving your town from destruction, but you’ll take it.

More people do tend to keep their distance from you now, largely in part due to your lover’s fearsome reputation, but you don’t hold it against them.

They’ve started calling you Shaoha – Death Woman. Normally, it’s a derogatory name for a demon or witch, but you know they don’t mean it in that way, and you can’t help but find it fitting given the circumstances and your ties to the Death God himself.

You smile sadly in spite of yourself as you make your way through the forest trail towards Dabi’s temple, leaving the village behind you.

You dress mostly in black or deep blues these days, mourning the fact that you haven’t seen your god in years now. He promised you that he would eventually be back for you once he had healed, before you were old and gray, but you wished that he would have given you a rough estimation of how long that would take, because with each day that passes, you miss him more and more.

Your friends have started families of their own, and while you never had the urge to have children of your own, seeing them happy with their husbands makes you wish that Touya was here with you. Your friends give you sympathetic smiles, and try and comfort you best they can. While you’re grateful that they try, it’s not the same.

It’s strange: you’re surrounded by people who care for you, and yet; you feel more alone now then you ever did before.

You reach Dabi’s temple and push the doors open, finding a few people milling about, paying their respects inside, and the sight pleases you greatly. Ever since it was revealed that he had been behind the disappearance of the plague, the townspeople had started coming to the temple more frequently to pay homage to him. You’re glad that you had cleaned up the temple beforehand, even if it was just for you and him initially.

Several of the people take notice of you, and they quickly file out to allow you to do your daily inspection. After deeming everything to be orderly, you make your way back to your home, just as the sun is starting to disappear behind the tree-line.

You reach your house just as dusk has fallen, and you talk with your parents over dinner for a while before heading to bed. As grateful as you are for their company and their efforts to keep you occupied, the constant ache in your chest never fully dissipates, even when you aren’t alone.

As you lay in bed, waiting for sleep to take you, you send out a silent goodnight to Touya, hoping that he can hear you, wherever he may be. Just as you have done every night for the last three years.

You hope that wherever he is, he knows how much you miss him.

You don’t remember falling asleep. You open your eyes again and your room is pitch black, letting you know that it’s the dead of night. For a moment, you lay there confused, wondering why you’ve woken up at a seemingly random time, only to realize that you feel different.

You don’t feel physically sick, and the sensation that is coursing through your body like liquid fire in your veins doesn’t feel ominous or wrong, but you suddenly have the intense urge to get up and leave. Like you have to go somewhere urgently.

Your forearm – the one that bears Touya’s mark – feels hot. You trace it absentmindedly, quietly musing that the last time it burned like that was when he gave it to you--

Something clicks in your sleep addled mind, and you slowly sit up and push the covers off of you as you stand. You get dressed in long, dark skirts, and throw a traveling cloak around your shoulders for good measure – knowing deep down that you won’t be coming back.

As you walk through the hallways of your dark home like a ghost, you crack open the door to your parents room to gaze fondly at their sleeping figures. You send them a silent I love you, before closing their door, thanking them for everything. You pad silently through your house until you reach the front door, and pull it open soundlessly, stepping out of it for the final time, before shutting it firmly behind you.

You don’t look back.

You feel like a wraith as you walk through the deserted streets of your town, taking in each and every shop as you pass. The bright, pale moonlight is your only source of light as you walk, and before you know it, you’re standing in front of Dabi’s temple.

The burning in your forearm has lessened considerably and you know this is exactly where you’re supposed to be. You step inside, and slowly make your way to the foot of the hooded god’s statue. You smile slightly and take a seat facing the entrance doors that you didn’t bother closing, allowing moonlight to spill into the dark temple. You sit and you wait. You vow that you’ll wait all night if you have to.

You don’t have to wait for long.

There’s a tell-tale flash of blue outside the temple and a blast of searing heat follows, before everything stills again. The sound of slow, deliberate footsteps approaching the temple makes your heartbeat quicken, and the tall silhouette of a man spills across the floor to where you’re sitting at the altar.

A familiar man dressed in white funeral shrouds enters the temple, and makes his way towards you. You can’t help but smile lovingly as you take him in. Even though he looks incredibly different from the last time you saw him, you’d recognize Touya anywhere.

Gone are the dark scars and staples that wreaked havoc on his skin. The man, the god, that stands before you, has skin as pale as snow, almost blending into the white of his shroud. He looks like he’s bathed in moonlight, with eyes as bright and blue and beautiful as the flames he wields. Upon closer inspection. you still see faint seams in his skin where his burns were previously. A remanent of his past life, and one that you find incredibly endearing.

He is not perfect, but neither are you. You selfishly think that maybe you were made for each other.

He stands before you, seemingly at a loss for words, but his deep turquoise eyes tell you everything you need to know. You, however, have quite a few things you want to say to him. So, you start with the obvious.

“I’ve missed you.” You tell him quietly, and he smiles, cerulean eyes looking sad.

“I know. But I’m here now, so that’s got to count for something right?”

“It means everything.” You confirm breathlessly as he cups your cheek, running his thumb across your soft skin. You shamelessly lean into his touch and watch as he smiles at you.

“Ready to go?”

You nod. “I’ve been ready for a long time. You kept me waiting long enough.”

He laughs, the sound deep and rich in your ears.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. There are so many things I want to show you.” His free hand sneaks down and intertwines with yours. “I make good on my promises, you know.”

You give his hand a squeeze. “I do.”

His heart – the organ in his chest, that he was sure had stopped working after his fall from grace – thunders into irregularity in his chest. Now he’s sure that it beats for you, and you alone.

You, the first person in a long, long time, who’s made him feel something aside from hatred and scorn. The first person to see past the scars, the first one to see him at his worst and still show him unconditional love where others couldn’t, or wouldn’t.

He loves you, and he always will.

He lifts the hand that’s still laced with his, to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of your knuckles, sending you a smile that makes you melt.

“Let’s go home.”

FIN

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x female reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #dabi x reader smut #tw: death #mha dabi #mha #bnha #rose reblogs #please let me know if i missed any tags!#please let me know if i missed any trigger warnings!

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demons-and-demigods · 30 days

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Demons and Demigods Part Twelve: Written Scene #7: The Storm

Sorry for the long wait, my darlings, but it is finally here! This part got a little away from me, I will admit. But! I had a lot of fun writing it (even though it took me so long) and I hope that y'all have fun reading it <3 Thank you for being patient with me, and I hope this part makes up for the wait (at least a little)! Now, enjoy 8.7k words of everyone getting a little fucked up 😈

A storm raged around them, violently rocking the boat as the wind and the waves savegely tore at them. Somehow, Jason managed to drag himself above deck to join the rest of his friends (save Hazel, who was busy trying not to hurl her guts out). He swept his gaze across the ship, trying to account for everyone. Leo had lashed himself to the control console with a bungee harness of some kind, Annabeth and Piper were trying to save the rigging, and the gorilla that Jason assumed to be Frank was trying to untangle some broken oars. Even Festus the dragon head was trying to help, spouting flames at the rain, though it did nothing to discourage the storm.

The only person who seemed to be having any luck at all was Percy. Which, yeah, made sense and all, but it was still mind-boggling and more than a little disconcerting to see Percy standing there in the middle of the deck, completely dry and unbothered by the raging squall while everyone else was barely hanging on.

It was mesmerizing, almost, to watch Percy. He stood with his eyes closed and arms outstretched to either side, palms up. When a wave crashed into the hull, Percy would tilt his head and another wave would rise up on the opposite side of the boat to level them out. He’d curl his fingers as a large wave bore down on them and an even larger wave would grow to swallow it up and stop it from reaching the deck. He jerked his chin, and the rigging Piper and Annabeth were working on righted itself. He flicked his wrist, and the broken oars gorilla-Frank had been trying to detangle went flying.

Jason had the sudden realization that if not for Percy, the Argo II would have been capsized or smashed to bits almost immediately. It was not looking good for them.

Jason staggered his way toward the center mast, praying that he wouldn’t get knocked off his feet before he got there. Leo saw him and shouted, probably telling him to get back in bed or something, but it was impossible to hear over the storm. He just waved.

Thankfully, he managed to reach the mast without being sent overboard by the violent rocking of the ship. Percy opened his eyes and grinned at him as soon as he got close, almost like he had somehow known that Jason was there. It was a little creepy, but Jason couldn’t care less.

Percy was the only one who didn’t start treating him like fragile glass after his injury. Percy treated him just as he always had, seemingly trusting him to know his own limits, and Jason was beyond thankful for it. It made him feel less like he was on death row.

Jason smiled back at the son of Poseidon and then made a frantic grab for the mast when the ship gave a sudden, particularly violent lurch. Though, to his surprise, Jason found himself rooted to the spot, unable to move. The ship lurched again but Jason remained right where he was. He tried to take a step only to find it impossible to move his leg.

His limbs felt leaden, and he realized he couldn’t move at all. It wasn’t just his legs that had locked up, but his arms and head too. Jason panicked. What the fuck was happening to him?

But then, just as suddenly as it had happened, it was over; the ship rocked again and Jason stumbled forward, no longer frozen in place. He latched onto the center mast, panting as he tried to make sense of what had just happened.

He glanced at Percy and found the other demigod watching him with concern, though there was something else in his expression that Jason couldn’t quite figure out. (He shrugged that off, though. Ever since he and Annabeth had come back from the Pit, it wasn’t unusual to find Percy with an unreadable expression on his face and some strange emotion swirling behind his far away gaze. It was always disconcerting to see his usually grinning face wear such a tumultuous expression when he thought no one was looking. Jason didn’t know if anyone else had noticed, but he’d been allowed little else to do besides watching his friends. Shit, if Jason hadn’t been injured and practically put on bedrest by his girlfriend and best friend, he doubted that he would have noticed anything going on with Percy either.)

Jason waved off Percy’s concern with a thumbs up and a shaky grin. Percy seemed to take that to mean that he was fine and started gesturing.

“—THING . . . UNDER . . . STOP IT!” he shouted, though half his words were lost to the wind as he pointed over the side of the boat.

Jason cocked an eyebrow at him and gestured vaguely at his ears. I can’t hear you, he mouthed.

Percy huffed and rolled his eyes. He pointed first to himself then to Jason, and then over the side of the ship again. He mimed diving into the water and pointed at the two of them again.

Jason tried to convey ‘You want me to go with you? Are you sure?’ and ‘I can’t breathe underwater, dude’ with his expression.

Percy rolled his eyes again and pointed at the storm clouds roiling above them, then took a running leap and dived overboard.

Jason looked up to see Piper and Annabeth giving him matching ‘Are you crazy?’ looks, to which he just smiled and shrugged. He turned his attention to the storm and his eyes widened as he sensed angry venti swirling around up there. How the fuck had Percy known they were up there before he did?

Whatever, that would be a question for another time. Right now, he needed to find a way to follow Percy.

Jason stretched out his arm and imagined his will as a rope of wind, flinging it into the swirling mob of venti. He sought out the nastiest ventus he could find and snared it with his wind rope, tugging it down to form a cocoon around him as he jumped into the water.

Immediately, he was surrounded by an eerie silence, his own breathing nearly deafening in comparison. It sent a shiver down his spine, but he forced himself to focus on the task at hand.

He scanned the water around him through the filter of his personal cyclone. (Which, thankfully, allowed him to breathe. The air smelled strongly of ozone and the ventus was definitely not happy with the arrangement, but at least it was breathable air and Jason was strong enough to force the wind spirit to remain in place.) There was something about the ocean that had always set Jason on edge, more than the Roman’s hatred of it and his father’s rivalry with Neptune.

It was similar enough to the sky, Jason supposed, in that they both stretched as far as the eye could see. But the sky had nothing to hide. Even full of clouds, nothing could remain obscured in the sky for long. The ocean, however, Jason shuddered. There was so much they didn’t know about it, more than just mythological beings and creatures evaded the notice of everyone who sought to know the oceans. So much was still unknown and unexplored, and the light only reached so little.

Anything could be lurking in the depths of the oceans. Anything could be waiting just out of sight, hidden by the cloying darkness of deeper waters.

In the sky, Jason felt secure, always aware of everything around him, cocooned in a blanket of wind and air. But underwater, Jason felt horribly exposed. His senses couldn’t expand into the area around him like they could in the sky, and he couldn’t sense let alone see all of his blind spots at all times. He was just out in the open, unprotected and unprepared; he would have no clue if something snuck up behind him, no time to react if something came hurtling out of the dark to attack him.

Thalassophobia, Jason thought he’d heard it called before: the fear of large bodies of open water; although ‘fear’ didn’t feel like the right word, didn’t quite cover the absolute terror that gnawed on his bones.

And here, floating in the middle of nowhere in the open ocean in his little personal tornado of lassoed air, a violent storm raging on the surface above him and who knows what waiting who knows how far below him.

With nothing but dark, gloomy water surrounding him, Jason was terrified.

But then, he spotted Percy.

The son of Poseidon hung suspended in the dark water, illuminated only by the soft bronze glow of his sword. His long, inky black hair seemed to leach the light out of the water surrounding him as it floated around his head like a dark halo, dancing in some imperceptible current. His outline flickered, his form broken in places and replaced by dark, writhing masses of tentacles and stark, bony protrusions. He looked both unimaginably large, as ancient as the oceans themselves and just as monstrous, and like his skin was stretched too thin over bones that were too long with edges too sharp to be wholly human. He was dark and all-encompassing, filling the water with an inescapable presence, yet he was also pale and haunting, skin near translucent as it gave off an eerie glow.

His body was threatening to rip apart at the seams, unable to contain the esoteric power lurking just beneath the surface. An arcane aura leaked from his ruptured mortal form, permeating the ocean around him and filling Jason’s mind with static.

The eldritch creature playing at mortality turned its head to look at him and Jason realized that he had never felt true terror until that moment. Its face was that of nightmares; it had no lips, just thin, bloody ribbons of flesh stretched too far across a dark, gaping maw filled with rows and rows of razor-sharp serrated teeth. Its eyes were unsettlingly vivid, as though the saturation of the creature’s eyes had been dialed up to eleven, swirling blue-green voids that lacked sclera and pupils. Within those effervescent eyes, Jason swore he could see all the world’s oceans at once; raging storms and roaring waves, plunging trenches and abyssal depths dark enough to drive one mad.

Its very presence emanated a dissonant, distorted screeching that Jason could feel vibrating through his bones, filling the surrounding water with static. Jason thought his eardrums might burst with the intensity of the high-pitched ringing and feared his insides might liquify from the infra- and ultrasonic frequencies he could feel quivering through his flesh and bones.

Jason felt his mind begin to fracture as he stared at the being before him, pressure built behind his eyes and limbs seemed to have turned to jelly. He knew he needed to look away before his mortal body exploded or something, but he was powerless to make himself move, trapped in the vortex of its aura. He felt drawn to the creature, unable to bring himself to avert his gaze. He had no control over his body, locked in place by the deity’s whirlpool eyes.

A scream built in his throat, but he had no breath with which to voice it. He teetered on the brink of madness, but he had nothing to grasp at to pull himself away from the edge. Something in the back of his mind screamed at him, but he couldn’t hear it over the static filling his head. He wanted to claw at his ears until it stopped and left him in blissful silence, he wanted to scratch out his eyes to relieve the pressure that had made a home behind them, he wanted to tear himself open to assure himself that the pounding in his chest was that of his still-beating heart and not some vestigial part of the monster looming before him. He needed to fill the yawning, cavernous void that had taken up residence in the place where his lungs should have been.

His blood moved sluggishly through his veins where they burned beneath his skin. He was coming apart, his atoms threatening to fly apart, on the verge of disintegrating. He was nothing more than a tiny pest to this primordial of the seas, barely worth the effort it took this eldritch horror to kill him. His being was infinitesimal in comparison to this primeval monster, little more than a speck of dust floating through its waters. This was all the waters of the earth given form, and it was enraged at their treatment. And in that moment, he knew.

He was going to die.

Then, everything snapped back into place and Jason gasped.

Air, sweet, ozone-scented air, filled his lungs and Jason could have cried. He clutched his chest and heaved frantic breaths into his aching lungs. He looked up and saw Percy hovering in front of him with a worried expression on his now normal-looking face. Jason’s heart pounded in his chest as he searched Percy’s face for any trace of the Lovecraftian nightmare that had been clawing its way out of his skin just moments before.

“Jason, hey, are you alright, dude? You with me?” Percy said, though Jason had no idea how he could hear him so clearly under the water. He nodded slowly and ignored Percy’s puzzled look.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good, man. Sorry, just not a fan of the open ocean I guess,” Jason said and tried to laugh it off.

Percy’s eyes narrowed, his gaze intense and searching, boring into Jason’s soul as though he could pluck the truth from Jason’s psyche if he stared long enough. Thankfully, though, before Jason could buckle under the strength of Percy’s gaze, a beam of bright green light split the darkness in front of them like a spotlight before it disappeared, coming from the depths of the chasm Percy had been hovering over the edge of.

Percy snapped his head around to stare over his shoulder with narrowed eyes. “I was waiting for you before going to check it out, but I’d bet that whatever is causing this storm, is also the source of that light,” he said, glancing back at Jason. “Come on, let’s go.”

As they sank deeper and deeper into the chasm and fell further and further away from the sun, Jason couldn’t shake the horrifying vision from his mind or the sense of unease in his stomach. It grew darker and darker until the only light came from Percy’s sword.

Though, if Jason looked too long at his friend, he could swear that Percy began to glow too; an eerie, pale blue light seemed to emanate from strange markings on his skin, as though he was bioluminescent or something. A handful of his scars shed golden light into the water as his eyes illuminated the way ahead of them like headlights. It was fucking creepy, Jason thought, if kinda fascinating. (He wondered if Percy knew that he glowed, if Annabeth knew. He wondered if Percy only became bioluminescent underwater, or if he would light up in a dark room, too. Despite his curiosity, though, Jason couldn’t bring himself to say anything to the other demigod, the image of the savage creature tenuously caged beneath his skin still too fresh on Jason’s mind.)

Eventually, the water began to lighten around them, and Jason saw the glowing ruins of a palace or something appear out of the dark haze before them. As they drifted toward the remains of a partially collapsed dome, Jason stared around the ruins with wide-eyed amazement.

“What do you think this place was?” Jason asked reverently, yearning to reach out and run his fingers along the crumbling structures but unwilling to risk breaching his ventus cocoon just yet to do so. “Atlantis?”

Percy snorted and waved a hand dismissively. “Nah, Atlantis is just a myth.”

Jason squinted at his friend. “Uh, don’t we literally deal with myths like, everyday? Aren’t we technically a myth ourselves?”

Percy rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue. “You know what I mean, dude. Atlantis is a made-up myth, not, like, an actually true myth. Plus, Plato never intended anyone to believe in Atlantis, it was only ever meant to be a parable, to serve as an allegory to the hubris of nations and a cautionary tale warning against its dangers.” He shrugged. “All that flew over a lot of people’s heads though, and the original purpose of the Lost City of Atlantis was overshadowed by a bunch of idiots and their desire to find a place that was never real.”

Jason gave Percy an incredulous, wide-eyed stare.

“What?” Percy asked, defensive. “My mom is a published author, my stepdad is an English Lit teacher, and I’m dating Annabeth who loves ancient Greek philosophers and playwrights. I pick up a thing a two.”

Jason often forgot that Percy was a lot smarter than most people gave him credit for, and he was pretty sure that was something Percy did on purpose. It was something he’d noticed about the son of Poseidon before, but he played the part of ‘dorky fool’ so well that it was nearly impossible not to fall for the act. Though he was never sure if it was an act that Percy himself actually believed or not.

But rather than bring that up right then, Jason just shrugged and held his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough, Jackson,” he laughed. “But if not Atlantis, then what was it?”

“I don’t know,” Percy said, face scrunched up in concentration. “But it feels familiar, like I’ve been here before or something . . .” he trailed off, leaning in to study some markings carved into the domed roof in front of them.

“Maybe you have,” Jason said playfully. “Maybe you saw it in one of your weird-ass dreams; I’ve been told that they’re a lot more intense and prophetic than the average demigod’s.”

“Oh, shut up, Grace,” Percy snarked back. “My dreams suck ass, but they’re not anything special. Besides, I always remember my dreams. This is something else.” He reached up to ghost his fingers over one of the markings.

Then, that brilliant green spotlight flashed directly beneath them, blinding Jason for a moment.

He dropped like a stone until his feet hit what felt like solid marble. When he finally managed to blink the spots from his eyes, he realized that they’d found the source of the storm.

An ethereal woman in a flowing green dress cinched at her waist with a belt of abalone shells hovered before them. She had to have been close to twenty feet tall, though she shrank to something closer to ten at their startled entrance. Her skin was a soft, luminous white, mirroring the fields of algae covering the underwater ruins. Her hair fell across her shoulders in gossamer strands reminiscent of jellyfish tentacles, some swaying as though caught in a gentle current. Her face was as haunting as it was beautiful; her eyes too bright, her features too delicate, and her smile too cold, as though she’d studied human behavior but hadn’t quite managed to master replicating it.

Before her stood a tall, marble pedestal, atop which rested a large, mirrored disk. Her long, slender fingers danced along its edge before she sent it spinning, and the green light cut through the water again. The water churned, shaking the palace ruins. Shards of stone from the domed ceiling broke off and slowly sank down to settle on the marble floor.

“You’re causing the storm,” Jason said, careful to keep the accusation from his voice.

The woman laughed, a sharp, violent sound like the crashing of waves. “That I am,” she said. Her voice was melodious, though it had a strange resonance, one that reminded him of the horrible ringing sound the creature clawing its way free of Percy’s form had emanated, like it extended beyond the range humans had the ability to process. That same, static pressure built up behind Jason’s eyes and his sinuses threatened to explode.

Percy, both thankfully and annoyingly, appeared unaffected. He just tilted his head and squinted at her. “I’ll bite,” he said, and Jason saw a flash of that dark, gaping maw full of razor-sharp fangs. “Who are you and what the fuck do you want?”

A manic glee sparked in the woman’s eyes and her smile sharpened, sending an involuntary shiver down Jason’s spine. “Why, I am your sister, Percy Jackson. And I wanted the chance to meet you before you die.”

Percy tilted his head and squinted at the goddess. Jason tried to resist the urge to reach up and massage his sinuses which still felt like they were about to explode.

Percy hummed and crossed his arms. “Y’know, I’m not super well-versed in mythology involving Dad, so I’m not sure who all my godly siblings are, but . . .” he gave the goddess a long, considering look before he nodded. “I’m gonna take a wild guess here and say you’re Kymopoleia, goddess of violent sea storms if I remember correctly?”

The goddess’s eyes widened slightly in shock. “Most have never heard of me, little brother. I am surprised, yet none-the-less pleased that you do know me.”

Percy shrugged. “At some point after I accidentally blew up Mount St. Helens—”

Jason choked on air and started coughing. “After you what?” he asked incredulously, but Percy and Kymopoleia ignored him and continued on as though he hadn’t said anything.

“—I’m pretty sure I heard Dad mutter something under his breath like, ‘I pray you never meet Kymopoleia,’ and I got curious, so I looked into the name.” He shrugged again. “Oh, and I’m just gonna call you Kym. Kymopoleia is a bit of a struggle and also it takes too long.”

Jason watched the interaction carefully. Percy spoke so casually to the goddess it kind of freaked Jason out. But he’d heard enough stories to know that it was common practice for the son of Poseidon to be so irreverent.

For her part, Kym appeared amused rather than angry at least.

“I’ll consider it an honor to get a Perseus Jackson nickname before you die,” she said with another spin of her disk.

“I don’t suppose catching our ship in your massive storm was an accident, was it?” Percy asked with a resigned sigh.

“No, no it was not,” she said.

“And there’s no chance that you’ll cut it out if we ask nicely?”

“Not a one. Though I am rather impressed that your ship has held together this long; excellent workmanship.”

Sparks flew along Jason’s arms and into his ventus tornado. He thought about Piper and Leo, Annabeth and Frank and Hazel up there frantically fighting to survive the storm. He and Percy had left them defenseless up there. They had to end this and they had to end it soon.

“My Lady,” Jason broke in before Percy could say anything to potentially aggravate the goddess, “Is there anything we can do to get you to change your mind and let us get on our way?”

Kym turned her faintly glowing eyes to him and tilted her head. “Son of Jupiter,” she said dryly. “Do you know where we are? What this place once was?”

“Uh,” he said, glancing at the crumbling structure around them. “These ruins? Uh, maybe it was a palace at some point?”

Percy snapped his fingers. “That’s it!” he exclaimed. “Dad’s new place in the Atlantic looks pretty similar to this. Last I was over there, it was almost done.”

Jason gave Percy an incredulous look. He’d actually been to his father’s domain? To his palace? What the fuck was with this guy and the gods?

Kym made a frustrated noise and crossed her arms. “I wouldn’t know,” she huffed. “I’m not allowed in our father’s court. He finds my presence disruptive,” she hissed, and gave her storm-disk a harsh spin.

“I can’t imagine why.” Jason gave her a skeptical look as the ruins shook and more pieces fell slowly through the water around them.

“I know!” she threw her hands up in exasperation. “I am an absolute delight to be around! I’m certainly better company than my total bore of a brother Triton,” she pouted and crossed her arms again.

“Ugh, definitely!” Percy agreed. “I’ve met Triton and honestly, he’s such a pain in the ass!”

Kym smiled. “Finally!” she said. “Someone who sees sense! He is such a πομπώδης μαλάκας!”

Whatever that last thing meant, Jason had no idea as the Ancient Greek didn’t come to him, but he could only assume it was some kind of insult because Percy laughed.

“Exactly! He never shuts up! He’s all ‘I am Father’s heir’ and ‘Father only likes you because you’re useful’ and it’s just like, ‘look, you absolute douche-nozzle, you’re both immortal! You’re not gonna inherit shit, ass-wipe,’ I mean, honestly!” Percy said, presumably mimicking Triton with comically furrowed brows and a fierce scowl, his chest puffed up and chin raised to look down his nose at an imaginary person.

Kym burst into giggles (which reminded Jason of the clicks and whistles of dolphins). “Oh my—He sounds just like that!” she said, doubling over and clutching her stomach as she laughed. “Oh, that is just perfect,” she snickered. “I can see why Father hoped we might never meet, Perseus. You and I would have gotten along splendidly.”

“Just Percy, please,” Percy said with a playful bow. “Only my enemies call me Perseus and I’d really prefer if I didn’t have to fight you.”

Kym let out a dramatic sigh. “I don’t want to fight you either, little brother,” she said. “Unfortunately, Gaea really wants your blood, and she’s made me a wonderful offer that I just couldn’t refuse.” she shrugged and flashed a shark-like smile. “Gaea will allow me to wreak whatever havoc I please once she has risen so long as I help her and her children destroy the gods.”

Jason tensed as the water around them seemed to shudder, he saw Percy do the same. He pulled his gold coin from his pocket and flipped it to summon his sword.

“Now, I believe there’s someone here who is just dying to see you again, Percy. I do hope you can forgive me.” Kym gave them a faux-apologetic look.

“PERSEUS JACKSON!” a thunderous voice boomed, sending ripples through the water and making the ruins tremble.

Percy’s face twisted into a dark, angry scowl.

“Do you know who that is?” Jason asked, tightening his grip on his sword.

“Polybotes,” Percy snarled. “The anti-Poseidon. I’ve already killed him once; I guess he really wants a rematch.”

Just then, the Giant rounded a corner ahead of them and Jason barely stopped a disgusted noise from escaping him. He’d thought the other Giants he’d met had been ugly, but Polybotes might just take the cake.

Even underwater, the guy managed to look greasy and oily, like he had never heard of a shower before. He was absolutely massive, towering close to thirty feet or more in height if Jason had to guess. Like all Giants, he had scaled reptilian legs. His hair hung like shriveled up seaweed around his face. His skin was a murky blue, like the color of poluted water. His eyes were sharp and cruel as a hungry smirk spread across his harsh, mottled face. When he shook his head, basilisks fell from his hair and began circling in the water, hissing and letting out little bursts of flame.

“I hunted you through Tartarus, son of Poseidon, and you managed to escape me then, but there will be no escape for you now!” Polybotes laughed cruelly.

Percy snorted and raised his sword. “I killed you before with only a river to lend me strength; what makes you think you stand a chance against me here in mY dOmAIn?” Percy snarled, lips curled up in an equally cruel grin. His voice reverberated through the water the same way that eerie ringing that emanated from that creature hiding beneath his skin had. It shuddered through Jason’s bones and the pressure that had finally begun to fade from his sinuses returned with a vengeance.

Polybotes barked out a laugh. “HA! Whether you are stronger here or not, little demigod, you cannot kill me without the aid of a god. And there are no gods here willing to aid you, sea scum.”

Percy’s grin turned sharp and deadly as his form seemed to ripple, the monstrous horror lurking within his flesh straining at the seams to get free. “WHaT maKeS YOu tHiNk I NEeD a gOd?”

He lunged.

A few of the basilisks hurled themselves at him, but Percy turned them to dust with one sweep of his sword. Polybotes swung his trident through the water and left an arc of some thick, oily looking substance in its wake.

Percy barreled right through it without slowing down and the smug look on the Giant’s face turned to shock then indignance before settling on rage.

“I will torture you under the sea! Each day the water will heal you, and each day you will suffer worse than the last! I will bring you to the brink of death and beyond the edge of mortal agony until you beg for me to kill you, until I have reduced you to nothing more than a quivering mass of flesh desperate to die.” Polybotes snarled. “But you will only know the relief of death when your blood is drained from your wretched body to awaken the Earth Mother. You will die with the knowledge that your last act has brought about the violent end of everyone you love.”

By then, Percy was on top of the Giant, fighting like a man possessed. He growled low in his throat and swung his sword in a vicious arc, leaving a deep gash on the Giant’s leg when he was too slow to block the attack.

Polybotes howled and swung his trident. It slammed into Percy’s chest and sent him hurtling through the water to crash through a wall. He recovered quickly enough and shot towards the Giant, spearing through the water faster than Jason could track. Sword met trident and when their weapons clashed it sent a shockwave through the water.

Jason gripped his own sword tightly and prepared to jump into the fight to help his friend, but before he could do so, the remaining basilisks zeroed in on him. The poisonous, fire-breathing snakes circled around him, hissing and snapping at him. Anytime one of them got too close, Jason managed to cut off its head. But the serpents grew bolder, swimming closer and closer to him. They stopped attacking one at a time and tried to rush him.

Jason closed his eyes, sent up a prayer that he wouldn’t fry Percy, himself, or Kym, and lifted his sword toward the sky. He called down brilliant arcs of lightning and let out a breath of relief as they struck the dozen basilisks swarming around him. The snakes went belly up in the water before crumbling to dust.

Percy and Polybotes continued their death match. Percy seemed to be doing just fine, ruthlessly attacking the Giant, slicing and stabbing relentlessly; but Jason could see the smoke curling off his skin as it blistered and sizzled. Whatever substance had spread from the Giant’s trident, some sort of poison or acid if Jason had to guess, was affecting his friend. And despite Percy’s, frankly unnerving, claim, Jason knew he’d need a god to kill Polybotes and there was only one available to them at the moment.

Jason turned to Kymopoleia. She was watching Percy and Polybotes fight with a fascinated look on her face, totally enraptured by the carnage her half-brother gleefully unleashed on Poseidon’s Bane.

“Kym,” he said, “What if I make you a better offer than Gaea did?”

The goddess hardly acknowledged him, merely letting out a noncommittal hum.

“She promised that you could cause raging storms to your heart’s content, but Gaea and the Giants are going to kill every mortal and demigod, wipe them off the face of the earth. What good is it to finally be able to ravage coastlines and annihilate shorelines when there’s no one left to cower and tremble in fear of you?” he cajoled her.

“I do like cowering,” she said absently, not tearing her eyes from where Percy had dropped his sword and begun to cave the Giant’s face in with his fists. Jason winced at the sharp, resounding crack of Percy breaking Polybotes’ nose.

“Yes! If Gaea and the Giants win, no one will be left for you to terrorize! If you help us, I-I'll make sure you are worshiped! I’ll build you a temple at each camp and-and I’ll do the same for all the gods and goddesses pushed aside by the Olympians,” he said frantically, watching Polybotes slam Percy to the ground with one massive hand wrapped around his torso, no doubt crushing his ribs. He winced when Percy let out a strangled cry of pain and turned desperately back to Kymopoleia to try and gauge her emotions on his offer.

“Polybotes, does Gaea have a counteroffer?” she called to the Giant, face impassive.

Polybotes turned his head to give her an incredulous look. “Counteroffer?” he sputtered indignantly. “Mother Earth does not need to make a counteroffer to the inane ramblings of a puny half-blood! She is offering you unfettered control of the seas! You will be allowed to let your storms rage to your heart’s content!” he said, affronted.

“Yes, but will there be demigods or mortals or really anyone left to cower in the face of my storms or worship me in hopes of appeasing my wrath? Will I get my own action figure?” Kym said evenly, raising an eyebrow and looking down to inspect her nails which Jason only just noticed were colored a pale, florescent pink.

“Well, no, bu—” Polybotes started, only to cut himself off with a cry of pain when Percy managed to free himself from the Giant’s grip by maneuvering his pen out of his pocket and uncapping it so that the blade of his sword sprung out and impaled itself right through Polybotes’ palm. The Giant snatched his hand back to cradle against his chest and Percy lunged after him with a feral snarl.

Percy moved so quickly, Jason was barely able to piece together what happened. The son of Poseidon reached out and it was like the water solidified into an extension of his will, yanking his sword from Polybotes’ hand and meeting it halfway. He wrapped his hand around the hilt and shot straight for the Giant’s face. He plunged the bronze blade down and buried it to the hilt in one of Polybotes’ acid green eyes.

The Giant howled in pain and Percy yanked his sword free, quickly backing away as Polybotes reached up to clap his hands over his bleeding eye.

“You will pay for that, half-blood sum!” he roared.

Golden ichor wept from his numerous wounds, seeping steadily between his fingers from his damaged eye and the hole in his palm. It saturated the water, hovering in shimmering globules. The Giant stared Percy down with his one good eye, pure hatred simmering behind his gaze.

“Please,” Jason pleaded with Kym. “Only a god and a demigod working together can kill a Giant. Please, help Percy finish him off before it’s too late!”

Kymopoleia merely shook her head, lips spreading in a feral grin as that spark of manic glee glinted in her eyes again. She cackled, a sound like cracking stone being split apart by an enormous earthquake, and it sent a shiver down Jason’s spine.

“I do believe my little brother would beg to differ, Jason Grace,” she said, tone carrying a hint of that unhinged, feral excitement he could see spread across her features.

Jason whipped his head around to stare in horrified fascination as all the ichor in the water began to flow in one direction, condensing into one quivering golden orb. Ichor seemed to flow from Polybotes’ wounds faster than it should have, like it was being pulled from his veins in thick rivers of divine blood, drawn towards the glittering ball. Polybotes sank through the water, hitting the sandy floor with a dull thud as his knees gave out on him. His hands fell from his face, as though he no longer had the strength to hold them there. Jason could see as the color leeched from him, seeping away with the ichor as it fled his body. Polybotes seemed unable to move, frozen in place where he knelt.

The temperature of the water dropped several degrees and Jason shivered.

“Wh-what is this?” Polybotes bellowed, feigning outrage, but the undercurrent of fear in his voice gave away how scared he truly was. He stared at Percy, one good eye wide and afraid.

Jason turned to his friend. At first, he thought it was just a reflection of all the ichor in the water. But then, Jason came to the terrifying realization; it wasn’t a mere reflection. Percy’s eyes glowed a vivid gold, the same color as the ichor he was draining from the Giant’s veins.

His face was dark, his features standing out sharp and cruel as he appeared to loom over Polybotes. That monstrous, ancient nightmare slipped through the seams of Percy’s flesh, leeching away all light until all that was left was the eerie glow of Percy’s golden eyes.

His teeth flashed in the dark, long and curved, reminding Jason of the Cheshire cat’s grin. Jason swore that he could see things moving in the dark; massive, undulating limbs and sharp, ghoulish protrusions. Bones that snapped and cracked as they moved, gnashing teeth and glowing eyes where they didn’t belong.

“YOu sAy tHat yOu FOLlowEd mE THrouGh tARtArUs, aNd yEt YoU HAvE nO iDeA WHaT i lEaRNeD tO DO dOwN THerE, whAT I wAS fORcED tO PIcK uP IN oRdER tO sUrvIVe?” Percy barked out a cruel laugh as his voice seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, sending tremors through the ocean floor. It was so deep, Jason could feel it vibrating through his bones and hollowing out his chest. Yet it was also so high, it sent his ears ringing and made his head feel like it was about to explode.

Jason recalled the time he had been too slow to close his eyes and had, for just a moment, witnessed Juno’s true form. That had felt like he was on fire, like his skin was about to slough off his bones as his eyes melted out of his skull. It had felt like his cells were imploding and withering away into ash.

But this—

This felt like drowning on dry land; it was like he was being ripped apart from the inside out, his lungs had disappeared and the hollowness that had forced itself into the space where his heart should have beat was slowly filling with water. His mind was being pulled into a black hole, fraying at the edges and threatening to tear apart at the center. His eyes were being pushed from their sockets to make room for steadily mounting pressure building in his skull. He could feel water bubbling up his throat, choking him, forcing its way out between his lips and flooding into every empty space it could find. Water began to leak from his nose where it had filled his sinuses, began to stream from his empty eye sockets and gush from his busted eardrums. His mouth fell open in a silent scream, his voice lost to the torrent of water that eroded blood and bone until all that remained was a flimsy shell of decayed and rotting flesh.

He swore he could hear a roaring, but that made no sense as he had to have gone deaf with the water pouring from his ears. Pressure built and built and built past the point of unbearable.

There was a primal, agonized roar followed by an ear-splitting pop. And then: blissful silence.

Calm swept over him like a warm breeze, and he felt like he was being wrapped in a silky blanket. He sighed and let himself sag into the gentle hands wrapping the blanket around him. He soaked in the quiet, peaceful moment languidly. After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes and immediately flailed around.

Jason let out a rather undignified squawk and scrambled to pull away from Kymopoleia, who was looking down at him with an amused expression. The silky blanket he thought he’d been wrapped in was actually a gauzy, membranous shawl the goddess had pulled from her own shoulders and the gentle hands had been hers as well. He noticed with a start that his ventus shield had disappeared and slapped a hand over his mouth and nose as he instinctively gasped.

Only when he heard Kym chuckle did he finally realize that he was, in fact, breathing and not drowning due to a bubble of air surrounding his head and neck like a diving helmet.

He glanced to the side and saw Percy watching him with a worried frown, wringing his hands together. Jason returned his wide-eyed stare to the goddess and continued to gape for a moment.

Eventually, Jason shook his head in an attempt to clear it and gulped, biting his lip as his gaze flit between Percy and Kym, both watching him quietly, one with concern and the other with bemusement.

“Uh,” he said eloquently. “What, um, what happened?”

Percy ducked his head and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, but before he could say anything, Kym spoke up.

“Nothing you need to worry about, Pontifex. Polybotes is dead. And I have decided to accept your offer.” Kym looked down at him smugly and for a moment, Jason was confused.

Offer? What offer? And—had she called him Pontifex? What was that abou—

Oh. Right. He had offered to build shrines to all the minor deities and make sure they were all worshiped. (And—was he remembering right?—I also promised Kym an action figure, I think? What the fuck, Jason thought.)

“Oh, uh, awesome. Thank you,” he said somewhat falteringly.

“I expect a truly magnificent action figure, Jason Grace,” she said. “One of those articulated ones and it had better reflect my stunning beauty. I’d be happy to visit and model for reference.” Kym’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes and Jason fought the urge to fidget.

“O-of course,” he stuttered, and honestly, what the hell are you supposed to say to that? Cut him some slack, it’s a weird ass situation he has found himself in.

“Wonderful,” Kym said, and turned to Percy, making Jason look at his friend too.

Percy was wringing his hands nervously and biting his lip, gaze flitting around like he couldn’t bring himself to look at them. Jason frowned. He was about to ask Percy what was wrong when Kym spoke up again.

“It was wonderful to meet you, little brother. I look forward to getting to know you better if you survive this war. I believe we could have much fun together.” She reached out and ruffled Percy’s hair with a laugh when he swatted her hand away.

Percy gave Kym a small smile in return but still didn’t quite meet her eyes. He turned to Jason, expression tensing a little.

“We should probably get back,” he said, gesturing vaguely upward. “Now that the storm’s stopped, before everyone starts worrying about us too much. If we’re not back soon, Annabeth will probably jump overboard to come looking for me.” he shrugged. He was still avoiding Jason’s gaze, and it looked like his skin was still smoking in places.

Before Jason could say anything about that, Percy said, “Come on,” and shot toward the surface.

He turned his startled gaze to Kymopoleia, wanting to ask her for more answers. She must have seen it in his eyes because she gave him a melancholic smile.

“Percy is far more powerful than he likes to let on, Pontifex,” she said, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “He has more power than a demigod should, and I believe that he is finding it harder and harder to control. Both he and Polybotes mentioned him having walked through Tartarus. I imagine something happened down there to push him over the edge.” She glanced upward, tracking Percy’s receding form through the water for a moment before continuing. “My brother is an impossibly good person, Jason Grace.” she fixed him with an eerie, unwavering stare, her overly bright eyes flashing. “But there is something damaged in him, something that broke down in that Pit. He has crossed a line that he cannot come back from even if he wanted to. I’ve heard that his fatal flaw is loyalty, so you have no need to fear him, nor do any of your friends. But remain wary, son of Jupiter, else you get caught in the crossfire of his rage.”

With that final, ominous warning, Kymopoleia disappeared in a whirl of bubbles and froth, leaving Jason to slowly begin the long swim back to the surface. When he finally reached the opening of the trench, he found Percy waiting for him, floating peacefully in the water.

Jason swam up beside him and waited quietly for what Percy would say.

After a moment, Percy twisted his head to face him. “Sorry for leaving you behind like that,” he said. “I forgot you didn’t have your personal tornado to help you keep up,” he joked half-heartedly and gave Jason a weak smile.

“It’s alright,” Jason said, smiling back. “I wanted to say goodbye to Kym first, and you seemed like you really needed to get out of there.”

Percy sighed. “Yeah, I did.” he crossed his arms and hunched his shoulders, drawing in on himself slightly. “Speaking of Kym, what’s the deal with the action figure she mentioned? And why did she call you a car?”

Jason snorted. “Not Pontiac, Pontifex. The Romans used to have someone called the Pontifex Maximus, a high priest who took care of the gods’ temples, made sure they were all recognized and worshiped, given proper offerings and things like that. While you were fighting Polybotes I made Kym an offer, to try and convince her to stop the storm and help you kill him. I promised to make sure temples were built for all the gods deemed ‘less important’ than the Olympians. The action figure idea just kinda happened? I don’t really know where it came from. I was kinda frantic, just saying whatever came to mind that I thought might sway her.” he shrugged. “You were holding your own just fine, but you looked to be in rough shape, too. Whatever that stuff Polybotes created that you swam through was, your skin was sizzling. You’re still smoking a little, too, by the way.”

Percy glanced down at his arms, tilting his head at the new, quickly forming burn-like scars there. “Yeah, it was some kind of acid, I think. It hurt like a bitch, and definitely didn’t help my lungs any.” he shrugged and uncrossed his arms. “But I’ll be fine. The water’s already taken care of the worst of it; a little nectar or ambrosia and I’ll be all healed with a few more scars to add to the collection.”

Percy rolled his shoulders and straightened, glancing up where Jason could see the shadow of the Argo II floating in the water above them. “Now come on,” Percy said. “I think Piper and Annabeth are getting ready to jump overboard.”

Jason laughed, letting the topic change slide. If Percy didn’t want to talk about what had really happened with Polybotes, Jason wouldn’t force it. He just hoped Percy knew that he could come to him. Their fathers may have a rivalry to end all rivalries, but he didn’t want that for him and Percy.

This time, as they rose through the water, Percy propelled Jason up alongside him. As soon as their heads broke the surface, Jason saw Annabeth getting ready to swing herself over the railing and drop into the water with Piper barely half a step behind her.

“Percy!” Annabeth called when she spotted them, proceeding to dive off the ship. Jason raised his arms to shield his face as she hit the water with a truly impressive splash. Percy just laughed and swept her into his arms, lifting her half out of the water and spinning around. Annabeth laughed in delight as Percy threw himself backwards and they sank just under the surface.

Jason wasn’t worried, though, having learned about Percy’s little air bubble trick, and instead began to paddle his way towards the rope ladder Piper had tossed over the side of the ship.

When he finally swung up and over the railing, planting his feet on the blessedly solid deck of the Argo II, Piper threw herself at him, muttering angrily in Tsalagi, no doubt cursing at him for acting like an idiot. Jason just smiled and hugged her close, pressing his lips to her dark hair when she buried her face in his chest.

After a moment, she pulled away and wiped angrily at the tears in her eyes, glaring at him.

“What is wrong with you?” she cried, smacking his shoulder. “You can’t do that to me! You can’t just-just jump overboard in the middle of a massive storm like that! Especially not when you’re severely injured—!” she gestured at his stomach, frustration and fear coloring her tone.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Pipes,” he said, interrupting her gently. “But Percy needed my help, and I’m fine, I promise. No further harm done. See?” He lifted his shirt, stepped back, and spun around, letting her look him over for any sign of hurt. Honestly, he felt fine; great even! Hell, he felt better than he had since Michael Varus had run him through.

When he finished his little one-eighty, he noticed Piper staring at his stomach with wide eyes. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked, glancing down to try and figure out what she was seeing.

His bandages had come loose in the water, sagging a little to reveal the upper edge of his wound, only . . . only there was nothing but smooth, tan skin where there should have been torn and reddened flesh. His mouth dropped open and he carefully tugged the bandages away, letting them fall to the deck of the ship after the soggy material tore.

Both he and Piper stared in wide-eyed shock at his unblemished abdomen for a moment. Piper reached out to ghost her fingers along the spot where the wound had been, her feather-light touch sending a shiver down Jason’s spine.

“You’re healed,” she whispered, voice filled with awe. “How are you—what happened down there?” she asked, laying her hand flat against his stomach for a moment before looking up at him with those dark, earnest eyes he loved to get lost in.

“A lot,” he said. “Though I don’t remember much of what happened towards the end.”

Piper nodded slowly and grabbed his hand, starting to pull him across the deck towards the stairs.

“Fill me in once we’re downstairs,” she said over her shoulder. “I’m getting you to eat something.”

Jason laughed brightly and allowed his girlfriend to tug him towards the galley, more than happy to let her fuss over him.

He tried to ignore the sinking feeling in his gut that hadn’t left him since he came to wrapped in Kymopoleia’s shawl, and the dread weighing heavy at his heart that it had something to do with Percy and what had really happened to Polybotes.