#she's growing on me i need to see more of her
Note
Somthing about the Penacony bird siblings please?
You can do one of them or both of them 🥺🪽🪽
AU Sketch Ideas III
These 2 birds gave me 2 ideas
Series I, Series II
Posessive/Over protective bird siblings, bad grammar woohoo
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DreamDoll
Inspired by that bunny doll in Sunday + Robin's LC
Oh, what a precious lil bunny you are!
As a gift of being good kid, The Harmony has granted Robin and Sunday a best friend.
Robin treasure the rabbit like they are her other-half, Sunday however,since a child wary of new people.
But both gradually realize since you are a doll blessed by an Aeon, you are practicqlly their imaginary friends, this is proven by how everyone in the mansion, the maids and butlers unable to see you.
Thankfully,you are an imaginary being, you don't need to eat anything. However,they learn that you thrive from sweet dreams,if one of the siblings having a nightmare you'd get a tummyache which the siblings won't like it when seeing you in pain.
As their bestfriend, you always be the middle ground for the siblings, they will bicker on smallest thing like children do and you just insert yourself in and giving a solution to them.
You stick more to Robin, because she was the first person you see after you come into being. You slept on her bed more, play tea party, and always become her singing audience if Sunday is busy with Mr Wood.
That's why when Robin decided to travel and couldn't bring you, you are entrusted to Sunday, the grey-ish one.
You don't grow up. You are just a blessed doll and an imaginary thoughts of the Halovian siblings. Yet, seeing you stay small as they grow older always creating a nostalgic feeling for the siblings, you have their purest memory after all
Funny enough, Sunday loves to dress you up more than Robin. It may look weird in people's eyes why he is making doll size outfit, but Sunday has his prideful ego boosted whenever you walking around the room in outfit he designed.
However,true to your doll form, no matter how much Sunday fix it, your outfit always have patches and you always have colorful bandaids on you. It itched his brain so more often he make adjustment of stitching symmetrical patches.
One day,you woke up with a bad stomach, Sunday is confused and worry,because he had a good dream and Robin's letter doesn't show any issue. Yet, here you are in his arms groaning and whining in pain. Perhaps it was a false alarm?All he can do is soothing you in his arms, kissing the top of your head and give as much love and comfort as possible.
Until Gopher Wood spilled the true incident of Robin's condition. Sunday gritted his teeth and demanded to see his beloved sister. Poor little you scramble around worry why your bestfriend looks so upset, the only answer he can give you is a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead as he left for few days.
The way back home in the ship filled with back and forth argument with the siblings, Sunday's protectiveness and Robin's will in protecting people. They agree to talk more of this in Sunday's office.
Only to be greeted by a small pink bunny rushing to hug their legs.
Perhaps it is the power of Harmony blessed in you, or perhaps they both just love you so much. The intense energy from the both of them melted to the ground as your little hands grasped their legs, baby face beaming happy to see them.
Unable to say anything (due to exhaustion and the bickering) ,the Halovian siblings just get on their knees and wrapped their hands on your small body, their wings tickles your face. The scent of baby powder and soft perfume filled Robin's nostril, relaxing her mind after spending months in a war where everything is blood and gunpowder. For Sunday, your scent giving him the familiarity of his home, feeling comfort after needing to pick up her sister after she evade death. You are the stability in his life.
The sibling oath to protect you, ignorance is a bliss and your pure soul is their most precious treasure.
"May this one's blessed soul be protected, may the purest memory be preserve, and may the innocent be blessed with infinite happiness"
Because you are an imaginary friend, a mind concept manifest and blessed by Aeon, Gallagher can see you.
(Of course at first Sunday would be hella confused why he is able to)
Man basically growled to that dog.
Nest Helper
Inspired by the Kamisato sibling+Thoma, IPC language is basically the International language (like English), GIST OF OBSESSIVE/POSESSIVE
A travelling gone wrong.
Your travel ship broke down and crashed into Penacony.
A news of fallen ship reached the Family, usually the Hounds will take care of it, but Robin obviously can't stand the idea of a outsiders guest to be hurt and especially in an unfamiliar planet.
A sole survivor, you, with some bruises and traumatize with your experience. The Hounds offer to take custody of you however Robin already beat them to it.
She knew she should've asked her bother first, but seeing you trembling and frozen in fear reminda her of the bird she took care with her brother. So, she brings you home.
Sunday is quite upset, you are not some stray dogs easily being taking in. You just survived a crash and confused with everything. Do you have ID? Family? How about a - oh...you don't speak the IPC language.
Sunday insisting on teaching you by himself, he knows it will be more controlled in what vocabulary you would use, and besides, perhaps he can get to know you more, nobody knows if you are a spy or not,right?
Besides, Sunday loves it whenever you speak in your language and the accent you have.
While Sunday mostly teaching the formal language, Robin gave you the casual everyday converstation. Your outfit was chosen and dressed up by her.
Years passed by and look at you! Speak like a Penaconian!
As a gratitude, you work with the Family as the Halovian siblings' personal servant. Which they hated how you called yourself their servant,you are their friends!
But seeing you happy just be part of the family is enough for them to stop bickering about simple title.
You are naive, borderline stupid or socially unaware. Your lips can't tell lies even the smallest one to the point Sunday thought you are part of the Rememberance. But no, you just have good soul that's all.
You are one of the people the Halovian siblings consider a safe place, they will regress back like a child and be an obidient kid to you. Oh? You said it's bed time, well Sunday can't say no to you. Hm? Robin is overworking herself?Well, even if she begs you wouldn't allow her to get out of the bed.
Posessive, even Robin also protective of you. They pray everynight expressing the gratitude that they were the one found you first The idea of you fell into the IPC hands or working dangerously with the Hounds put fear into the Halovian siblings.
Robin really loved you and cared for you. Whenever you are near her, she would purposely using the Harmony to humm a song to make you relax and make you stay with her.
You are the bird they found wounded, alone and scared. However,the bird they have taken care before died, slamming itself to a window as it flies away. This time however, Sunday will never let that happen.
The bird wouldn't hurt itself flying if it has never left the cage in the first place, right?
#imaginedraw#hsr#hsr sunday#hsr robin#hsr imagines#sunday imagines#robin imagines#sunday x reader#hsr robin x reader#hsr robin x you#sunday x you#hsr x gn reader
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You have to share
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Mom!wife!reader
Warnings: none
Summary: your son thinks that Max needs to share.
I was at home, enjoying a rare moment of tranquility after a long and victorious Formula 1 season. Sitting on the living room sofa, I watched Oliver playing with his toy cars on the rug. At that moment, I caught myself thinking about how big he had gotten and how quickly time had passed. It seemed like yesterday that Y/n told me she was pregnant, and we were at the hospital watching him being born. Now he was already four years old, and I was thinking about talking to her and seeing what she thought about trying for another one.
"Daddy, can you come play with me?" Oliver asked, his voice full of enthusiasm.
"Of course, champ." I replied, smiling as I got up to sit with him on the rug.
I sat next to Oliver, picking up one of the cars. We started an improvised race, Oliver's laughter filling the room and making me laugh along with him.
Of course, he made me be myself, and he was Uncle Lando.
After a few minutes, Oliver suddenly stopped and looked at me seriously.
"Daddy, can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, what's up?" I asked, surprised by the sudden change in tone.
"Why do you win all the championships? Don't you think it's a bit selfish not to share with the other drivers?"
I admit I was extremely surprised by the question. I had never thought that Oliver could see it that way.
"Why do you think that?"
"Because Mommy always says we can't be selfish, that we have to share and we can’t have everything just because we want to. But you always have the victories, and that's not fair.” he said simply, and I understood his analogy about selfishness.
"Look, Oliver, I love what I do. I love racing, and I love winning. It's something I've worked for my whole life.” I began, trying to explain.
"But, Daddy," Oliver interrupted, "if you win everything, the other drivers never get a chance to feel what it's like to be a champion. They must be really sad."
I was silent for a moment, considering my son's words. I had never thought of my victories that way, obviously, because that's not how the sport works, but I also had never thought of explaining it to him so he wouldn't think I or any other driver was selfish for winning.
"I understand what you're saying," I told him. "But Formula 1 is a competitive sport. All the drivers train hard and want to win; there's no rule that says each driver has to win once. When I win, it's because I worked hard for it. And I know the other drivers also work really hard, and when their time comes, they will win too."
Oliver frowned, thinking.
"But wouldn't it be fairer if you let the others win sometimes? That way, everyone would be happy." I smiled at him, proud that he thought that way.
"You know, Oliver, the joy of winning comes from effort and dedication. If I just let the others win, it wouldn't be fair to them either. They want to win honestly, knowing they were the best that day and not because someone let them win."
Oliver nodded slowly, understanding.
"So you win because you're the best? And they also want to win because that shows they're the best?"
"Exactly," I replied, satisfied with his understanding. "And that's what makes victory so special. Each driver has their victories, their achievements. And we all respect each other for that."
Oliver smiled, now more relieved.
"So, when I grow up and race for real, I'll train really hard to beat you!" I laughed, hugging my son.
"That's right, champ. And when that day comes, I'll be very proud of you."
After that, we continued playing with the toy cars, and about half an hour later, my wife walked through the door with her bag and a pizza box.
"Hi, my loves," she said, closing the door, and I was immediately abandoned.
"Mommy!" Oliver shouted, running to her, and she hugged him, picking him up.
"What are my two favorite boys doing?"
"We're playing Formula 1," he said excitedly, and she gave me a peck on the lips.
"Hmmm, sounds fun."
"Do you want to play with us?" He gave her those big blue puppy eyes. Y/n knows how to resist, but he always wins me over with them.
"I would love to, but I'm starving and really craving that pizza."
"You brought pizza?" he asked, excited.
"Yes, I did."
"Then what are we waiting for?" he said, starting to squirm in her arms to be put down. "I'm going to wash my hands."
And with that, he ran to the bathroom, giving me a few minutes alone with her.
"How are you?" I asked, hugging her waist as she wrapped her arms around my neck.
"Tired but good, counting the days until vacation." She kissed me again.
"Oliver asked me today if I didn't think it was selfish of me to win all the championships and not let the other drivers win too." She started laughing at that.
"Where did he get that from?" she asked, going to set up the pizza for us to eat.
"He asked because he thought it was unfair for me to win everything and because he thought the other drivers would be sad."
"Ugh, he's so cute," she said, and I agreed. "I miss when he was a baby."
"About that," then she looked at me, "I was thinking about having another one."
"Do you want another kid?"
"Yes, don't you?"
"I do, actually, I just didn't know if you wanted to."
"I would love to have another four," she laughed.
"That's not going to happen. If it were you giving birth, I'd agree, but since it's not," just then Oliver came in and sat in his chair, and I served him a slice of pizza and a glass of juice.
“Hmm I love pizza.” He said with his mouth all covered with sauce making us laugh.
After we had dinner as a family we all went to bed to watch a movie together.
Bonus scene!
Y/nverstappen instagram stories
“Daddy and Oli time. And yes, he looks exactly like his father, I was just carrying him for 9 months.”
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x you#f1#f1 instagram au#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen headcanons#max verstappen wallpaper#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen f1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x you#max verstappen angst#max verstappen au#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen series#max verstappen drabble#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen masterlist#max verstappen blurb#max verstappen red bull#max verstappen instagram au#mv1 x reader#mv1#mv33#mv1 imagine#mv33 x reader
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𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 · 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬
contents: fluff. established relationship. found family. megumi takes up baking and it takes you back to your teenage years when a certain white-haired someone pined for you. 1.4k wc.
Nine year old Megumi has a crush on someone. You were pleasantly surprised when he asked you to take him to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients, and you inquired if there was a special occasion or a school cooking project as you both walked along the aisle and collected the items on his list that he prepared beforehand.
Your heart melts when you learn that he was planning to gift the pretty girl in his class something homemade, and he decided on butter cookies because she mentioned in passing that it was one of her favorite snacks. You think it’s incredibly sweet that Megumi came up with the idea himself, and even more so that he wanted to set aside a weekend to create something completely from scratch with his own two hands when purchasing a square tin would’ve been much easier.
It certainly reminds you of an insufferable yet equally lovable sorcerer that’s way too tall for his own good with too bright blue eyes that make you forget your surroundings if you stare into them a little too long. When you both were just two young teenagers pining after each other and he showed up with a white pastry box hidden behind his back on a summer day, with the strawberries in season and nurtured and harvested to perfection. You smile at the pleasant memory before forcing yourself back to reality.
When you are getting ready to pay for the things you and Megumi placed on the conveyor belt, he stops you and pulls out his Digimon wallet (courtesy of Gojo’s taste in presents) and explains he wants to purchase it with his own savings and be able to say that this gift is entirely by him without receiving any help from others.
You almost had to hold back a tear because when did this boy become so sweet? You suppose he always was this sweet and thoughtful, it just took a bit of time and some trust for him to fully warm up to you and Gojo despite the circumstances with his family and almost being sold off like a pawn to the Zenin clan. And now he has a home where him and his sister could feel like they belong and be surrounded with people that he could depend on because at the end of the day Megumi is just a boy much too young to be growing up too fast.
You announce your return home to Gojo and Tsumiki with the soft thud of the grocery bags being placed on the kitchen counter, and Megumi scurries into his bedroom to fetch the printed recipe he tucked away in a drawer. You carefully take out each item from the bags to place on the surface for him to get started, and white tufts of hair come into your peripherals and Gojo greets you with a cheeky grin.
“Angel, you’re back.” His hand falls on your hip and he softly pecks your lips when you turn your head toward him. He does a quick scan of the contents in front of you, and he decides you must be some kind of mind reader or his telepathic messages have finally reached you after several days now. “Aw baby~ Don’t tell me you’re baking something for me? How did you know I was craving—”
“Not me.” You shake your head and cut him off promptly. “Megumi.” And at the mention of his name, the young raven-haired boy enters the kitchen with a loose paper in his grip. You offer him a polite smile before addressing that everything he needs is on the counter and point to where the baking equipment are, and if he has any questions or concerns then you’ll be in the next room with Gojo as you drag your boyfriend by the arm to give Megumi his privacy.
“You see, Satoru, our Megumi here has a crush on someone. And he’s taken it upon himself to bake her cookies!” You say just above a whisper, a proud smile lining your lips and Gojo arches a curious brow. You catch a peek between the threshold that separates the kitchen and sitting area with Gojo looming behind you and find Megumi checking off the ingredients and looking over the instructions. He’s being thorough, that’s a good start.
“Megumi, eh? You know, I’m a little surprised he’s crushing at all. He’s quite the serious kid.”
You huff at him softly. “Well, serious or not, I think everyone is allowed to have crushes. Besides, doesn’t this remind you of something? Like that time you baked me a strawberry shortcake because strawberries were my favorite?” You look back up at him, and in your gaze there was always a sort of sweet and dreamy expression that never fails to make his heart swell three times too big.
“Ah.” Gojo chuckles, and his mind drifts back to the fond memories of his own youth, when he too used to try his hand at baking sweets in the hopes of impressing you. He remembered how long it took and how many attempts he made since he had no prior experience. There was a lot of flour and eggshells, and maybe he did set the oven on fire… but the moment he saw your face light up with your beautiful smile it was worth all the trouble and the mess. “That was the cake that changed it all for us, huh?” His arms move to your waist and he presses a kiss to your forehead.
You nod and hum affectionately, your hands reaching up to wrap around his neck though with his height he had to bend down slightly. “That’s one way to put it. But as much as I appreciate the sweet gesture, I am so glad you left the baking to me since then.”
“You’re still teasing me about that to this day?” He playfully nips the sensitive spot on your neck causing you to giggle and lightly shove him away. “But hey, I never claimed to be a master chef. A little bird told me that maybe a homemade cake from me would be the thing to win your heart.”
“Well, I hope you know it was more than the cake that won my heart.”
“Yeah, I know it was my good looks and charm, you can’t get enough of me.” Gojo teases, peppering kisses over your shoulders and neck before pulling back just enough so his smirk comes into your view. “Enlighten me then. Since I still don’t have a clue why an Angel like you fell for a great catch such like myself.”
You playfully roll your eyes at his jokes, and you mull it over for a long moment to purposely keep him in anticipation. There are so many reasons that made you love Satoru Gojo back then, and every day you find new things to love about him. But for now the two qualities that come to mind should suffice for an answer. “Maybe it’s because I found you funny. And cute sometimes.”
“Sometimes? Cute most times, I think.” Gojo quips, and he gently pinches your cheeks. “And of course, my sense of humor is legendary. Who else can make you laugh like I do, hmm?”
“Alright, I think that’s enough flattery for you in one day. Any more and I’m afraid your enormous ego might burst.” There’s a teasing lilt in your voice, and suddenly the air around you feels sweeter as Gojo brings you closer to him and kisses your cheeks before resting his forehead against yours.
“But you know I love you, right?” Gojo says in a much softer tone. “I might tease you a lot and act like an idiot sometimes, but I do appreciate you still being here with me through it all. Without you, I don’t want to imagine what my life would be like without you. You make me a better person, you know that?” He tenderly cradles the side of your face and gazes lovingly into your eyes before there’s a flash of his dimples and a boyish giggle. “And the fact you think I’m cute is icing on the cake. Pun intended.”
You groan softly but the laughter that came shortly after is one of genuine affection. “I'm gonna go check on Megumi.” Before you turn on your heel, you plant a big smooch on his cheek then you’re gone the next second. He stands there, grinning from ear to ear as he rubs the spot you kissed like he still was (and he still is) the lovesick boy just a few years back.
꒰ note ᰔ the idea where megumi takes after gojo in some ways really squeezes my heart and that’s what inspired this little piece. ꒱
#ᨳ ₊˚ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩.𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#gojo x you#satoru x reader#satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo fluff#gojo satoru fluff#jjk imagines#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen
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Never Shall We Die (1)
«« Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line. »»
PAIRING: kwon soonyoung x reader
PLAYLIST: right here!
pirate lingo glossary (pls refer!)
SYNOPSIS: Deadliest pirate on the high seas or a damn fool?
The stupid King and his men have snatched Hoshi's precious pirate ship with their too clean, too soft hands; grounds to question his own vices. Except, when he and his crew land in the quarters of a navy ship, revenge on their roster, they stumble across a princess in its gallows.
Hoshi wonders if he's just struck gold, or if you'd become the final tread to his downfall.
GENRES: pirate!au, enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut [minor dni], some pirates of the carribean vibes but ? idk
WORD COUNT [full fic]: 48.1k
Part 1: 17.07k | Part 2: 15.2k | Part 3: 15.8k (June 7th, 8PM GST)
@highvern's out of context comment box: new fear unlocked: hoshi with explosives, victorian ankle moment, HATE HIM (need him carnally), hoshi covered in soapy water would distract me enough, strip for me pirate mingyu [hes litrally taking off his jacket], your honor hes a bitch, freaks!, mingyu crushes hoshi's head like a grape, WONWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO, massive dick, the way i literally gasped like an old scandalized woman
masterlist
WARNINGS: slowburn, plot heavy, happy ending bc no angsty endings in this household, being taken hostage, knives, bombs, and guns, mentions of blood, mentions of SA (does not happen and it is not explicitly mentioned), alcohol, mentions of death (patricide), hoshi is ✨selectively moral✨but kind of moral nonetheless, side character death, [pls lmk if im missing something its alot] smut tagin following parts
[AN]: thank you so much to @highvern for betaing for me and helping out with the plot so much, this fic would not exist if it weren't for her!!!! and thank you reader!!! for clicking on this and reading it, this one's been about 7 months in the works and I would love to hear what your thoughts are when you're done, plsplspls leave a rb or a reply with your brainrot lol <3 happy reading
HOSHI’S BOOT IS STUCK in the ground.
No, that’s a branch.
Or is it a plank?
He doesn’t try to find out as he yanks his foot out of whatever stopped him from moving. A tree root, he finds as he kicks the remnants of jungle rubbish from the surface of the shrouded root. He kicks it to satisfy himself.
His crew resides on the beach; where he can see them attempt to build a fire before sundown, the mound of discombobulated twigs making up most of the sad pile of wood. Hoshi trudges up to it and drops another handful of puny branches into the mix.
Exhaling loudly as Mingyu calls for him, he falls to his bottom and sits cross legged on the sand. Mingyu trudges up next to him to inspect his pile, sighing when he realised this was all he had to work with. He picks up two hefty looking stones and begins to strike them together, putting his faith in the primitive fire.
Hoshi stares into the horizon, watching the died down waves drift onto the shore, moving closer by the minute.
Hoshi thinks, which he can’t say is something that he does very often. Perhaps that’s why he was sat on this nature-overrun island as a shipless captain of his shipless crew. He chews on his tongue as he thinks of his Tigress, his beloved hunk of wood and metal; the beloved hunk of wood and metal that he could not see on the shoreline, because she was taken by the royal navy.
He wonders if Tigress would ever forgive him for letting that happen to her, for letting those clean, soft handed soldiers rip her away from his grasp.
Hoshi needs to start thinking more often.
Mingyu is frantic over the small flame that erupts in the middle of his leaves, dropping his rocks to blow into the fire, encouraging it to grow.
“Captain, it’s done! We can rustle up those fish we caught, have supper sorted.”
“Hm.”
The bustle of the entire crew lasts until night has fallen and they’ve gotten food in their stomachs. Hoshi hasn’t moved from his spot for hours, something the others noticed very quickly, but decided not to mention for fear of waking something dangerous. They understood he was suffering from a broken heart.
It isn’t until the first of the crew had begun to doze off that Hoshi speaks. Chan is propped up against a tree while Seungkwan and Jeonghan laugh at the dangerously low coconut that hangs above his head. Mingyu readjusts his trousers after a full meal. Minghao stretches onto the sand, feet facing the water.
His voice isn’t loud, nor is it commanding, nor does it have his usual edge of jest—in fact, it sounds nothing like Hoshi at all.
Or does it?
“Who wants to steal a ship?”
YOU'RE AWOKEN BY THE sound of yelling. Which is never a good sign in any case, but especially not when it’s pitch black outside and you’re on a ship in the middle of the ocean.
The grogginess is quick to fade as you try to understand what’s going on outside your quarters. Your room isn’t a mess, all the trinkets and royal seals remaining in their places on the walls and shelves. Nor is the ship lurching or moving in odd angles to indicate an unexpected spat from the skies. A quick peek outside the window shows you clear, calm water amidst the mostly dark expanse of ocean.
There is only one other answer in your head that would cause this much commotion—especially on a boat where the admiral resides (and a princess).
Slipping out of the covers, your feet hit the cool hardwood floors of your quarters, a small shiver going through your spine from the cold, with nothing to cover you but your thin nightgown. You’re in the middle of tying your robe to see what the ruckus was about outside when a particularly loud thud hits outside of your door. You immediately freeze.
Staring at the doorknob, you attempt to move backwards in the space, heart beating faster as you watch the knob move slightly. The back of your knees hit the bedside table with a thud, the sound has you gasp out loud. Whoever it was outside your door jiggles the knob harder, the force exerted having you scan the room for something you could use as a weapon.
Spotting the letter opener on your desk, you lurch across the room to grab it, holding it in front of you as you back away from the door. The knob continues to bang against the wood as you refuse to take eyes off of it. There’s sounds of men outside, loud and rambunctious, momentarily halting the grievances.
Until the knob moves again, slower this time, a light click that could be heard as it unlocks itself, opening into the low light of your quarters.
You recognise the frazzled looking soldier at your door.
“Lieutenant,” you voice in recognition. “What’s going on?”
He eyes the letter opener that you hold defiantly in front of you from across the room, and it has you retracting your force slightly.
“Pirates, your Highness,” he breathes out. “We must get you to lower deck—”
“Where is the Admiral? The Captain?” you ask as you take a couple steps forward.
“They’re handling the situation, your High–”
An arm has come up behind the soldier that pulls him into a headlock, a swift pull to have him dragged away from your vision. You would’ve gasped if your voice hadn’t been caught in your throat, refusing to make itself known as fear brews in the pit of your stomach. Your hold on your makeshift weapon is tighter than ever before, yet you doubt how it’s going to help you as the culprit finally steps over something to appear in your doorframe.
His clothes are in a disarray; slashed, torn and covered in grime. There’s a deadly looking machete in one hand, the blood that coats it has you eyeing the trail that drips onto his hand and on the floor. His forearms are perched up on the doorframe as he inspects you, tongue to cheek as he stares.
Threatened as you feel, there was less hunger in his gaze as you had expected, more like he was trying to figure out who you were. He eyes your tiny letter opener you hold like a knife and lets out a little exhale you think might be a laugh. It has you gripping the handle impossibly tighter. The man moves his face into the hallway, to where you know the staircase to the main deck is.
“Hoshi!” he yells loudly. “How’s this for bait?”
Your back is pressed inexplicably against the wall, wanting to sink into the wooden boards as you attempt to gain your bearings amongst the nauseous bouts of mortification that surge through you. Your only exit is blocked.
No. You have one more option.
The sound of more men bounding down the hall has you praying there were more soldiers here, but the calm regard the man has for the approaching people has your heart sink to the depths of this very ocean itself.
More faces peer into the room, men with the same haphazard, grimey clothing complete with equally sinister weapons in their grasps. One of the men breaks out into the biggest grin as he lays his eyes on you. You nearly throw up.
For the first time in your life, you wish you’d listened to your father.
“Jun, you savvy motherfucker,” the grinning man explodes, slapping the man who found you on the back.
Another voice speaks from behind him, “Ships cleared, captain.”
“Perfect. Bring a spring upon ‘er. Get as far away from those cleans as you can, let them fend for themselves in a tiny boat for once.”
Captain. The grinning, stupid looking one is their captain.
He regards the rest of his crew as he finally steps through the threshold, waving them away as he enters your quarters.
It was taking everything out of you to not buckle your knees as you stood, every step he takes is turning your strength into dust. He keeps his eyes on you, eyes on your sorry excuse of a weapon. He registers the mix of fear and determination in your eyes.
He stops a few feet away from you, looking directly at you past the makeshift knife you hold.
He says nothing as he drops the knife in his own hand to the ground with a loud clang. He removes a pistol, a couple more knives, a grenade and a sword. Weapons drop to the floor one after the other, emerging from all over his body and clothes. All in a pile on the wooden floors. He puts his hands in the air.
“No weapons on me. I merely wish to talk.”
The look on his face is not ordinary, some strange combination of mock innocence and jest. You don’t answer him.
He continues, “You can keep your… scalpel… if you so wish.”
“What did you do to the soldiers?” you finally rasp out.
“They’re not dead, if that's what you’re asking.”
“Yet?” you ask with a slight tremble to your voice.
“They’ve been shoved into a boat with a map and a compass to fend for themselves. I’m not entirely ruthless,” he adds with raised brows and a hint of a smile. “Admiral, were they calling him? You must be his wife.”
“W-what?”
“Oh, guess not. Daughter? Captain’s wife, Captain’s daughter?”
Your previously stagnant brain is now running a derby with all the thoughts galloping across your mind. He doesn’t know who you are. Yet, anyway.
He’s scanning the room now, nodding at the trinkets and trophies scattered across the place. “Can’t imagine giving a lieutenant’s anybody quarters like this.” He circles back on you, eyes sharp. “Who are you, darling?”
You don’t think you have anything that should give you away, but the way he starts pacing the room has your anxiety going through the wooden roof.
He has his back turned to you. You’re not sure if he’s confident or careless considering you could drive your weapon into his back and make a run for it. But then what? By the looks of it there’s an entire crew of pirates pacing the deck. Perhaps the soldiers haven’t gotten that far; they know you’re still on board, they know it’s their heads on a pike if they leave you here.
He’s reached your desk during your thinking, inspecting your stationary, picking at the bejewelled quills and paper weights as he mutters nonsense to himself.
“Oh!” he announces, a little too enthusiastic. “What’s this?”
He brandishes the loose leaf of paper, and you recognise the print on the back immediately. It was a letter from your father, the King.
“How on Earth did you read this, the writing is illegible.” He flips the paper over, double taking when he sees the royal seal on the back. He looks into the letter closer now.
You wait with baited breath.
“The kingdom needs their princess…your father…ah.”
Should you plunge the knife into him anyway? You almost do it, but stop when he begins to turn around to face you again. His eyebrows are raised, a slight hint of exasperation on his face when he begins to laugh a loud, loud cackle.
It’s mortifying, especially when you don’t understand what on earth was so funny to elicit a reaction like that. The man is downright hysterical. He wipes a lone tear from the corner of his eye as he drops the letter back onto the desk.
“W-what’s so funny?” you try to sound brave.
“It seems, miss princess, that we’ve gotten more than we bargained for,” he says, looking straight at you as he sobers up. “You’re the King’s daughter, now, are you? What are the odds the first ship I hop onto with a royal seal slapped on it, held the crown jewel of the kingdom in its gallows.”
And then he starts walking, towards you, for that matter. Imperative because you know for sure that this is how it all ends.
You know you still have your one last option, the option that is now pressed against your back as you shimmy to it with miniscule movements. The window is cool on your hand that rests on the glass, you know the lamp will be enough to break it, enough for you to push through and fall into the abyss of the dark, dark sea. He knows who you are now, and you’d rather drown than die at the hands of a pirate—or go through whatever it was that’s curling the minds of all the men on this ship.
He takes another step forward, hands on his hips. “He’s not going to like this, is he? His dear daughter in the hands of the Kingdom’s favourite degenerate captain.”
What?
He then adds in a whisper to himself mostly, “Or least favourite with all the wanted posters off the churches and brothels.”
Hoshi. Hoshi. Hoshi.
The man who had found you had called him Hoshi. Hoshi the pirate. Hoshi the pirate that’s been giving the Kingdom and its court absolute hell for as long as you can remember.
The man that you are now trapped alone with on a ship is the most feared pirate the Kingdom has ever seen.
You don’t doubt your face has gone grey, feeling your breathing turn near erratic. “Oh God.”
He smiles wryly as the life is sucked out of your very soul.
This was bad. Very bad.
“Now, fear not, you will soon be returned to daddy dearest,” he places a mildly dramatic hand over his heart. “Pirate’s honour.”
He paces back to pluck the letter off the table, pocketing it. “All you need to do is relax and tell me a few things so we can part ways as soon—”
“No.” The word blurts out of your mouth before you can stop it, horrified at the thought of giving information to any pirate, let alone this one.
“No?” Hoshi looks genuinely shocked, his eyes wide, eyebrows raised. He laughs a little incredulously, “Oh, I see, can’t tell all the delicate details to a scary ol’ pirate.”
He smiles a little bit, “Worry not, miss princess, we shall only need a few minor details. Just enough to have your father sprinting to get you out of here. We all win.”
He stares at you almost expectantly, and you wonder if you look as confused as you feel.
“Well, I’ll be bidding you goodnight now, I’m sure we’ve interrupted your beauty sleep enough. Rest assured we won’t be bothering you for the rest of the morning.”
Hoshi begins to make his way to the door, picking up his pile of weapons off the floor before wrenching the door open. He’s calm as ever, but your mind is in a disarray.
A ransom, but whatever for? Gold could’ve been retrieved by raiding any ship, and it sounded like he’d chosen to hop on a ship belonging to the navy. Come to think of it, as much of a nuisance this man has proved himself, you don’t remember a case where he’s directly meddled with the Kingdom. All of this can’t just be for gold.
Steeling yourself, you bet your odds against your voice and asked him, “What do you want from my father?”
You watch as he halts in his tracks, halfway through the door as he finally looks over his shoulder. The look on his face has you wanting to break open the window immediately and let the water flood in, once and for all as you take these bastards down with you.
“Your father has something of mine. And I intend to take it back,” he says, before finally slamming the door shut. You hear a shuffle and a thud, and you do not doubt that he’s locked you in.
Your knees give out almost immediately, dropping to the ground as you breathe in quick, shallow breaths. Trying to look past the dizziness, you try not to think about the last thing he’d said before he left, moreso the look on his face as he did.
The first rays of morning sun are beginning to shine through the windows, casting the beginnings of a glow in your quarters. You think of the supposed assurance he had given you, that they wouldn’t hurt you, that they intended to return you.
The thought leads to a faraway memory, yet one that’s tucked itself into a front corner of your mind, you can almost hear your father's voice as he says it; never trust a pirate.
You remain on the floor, and you remain wide awake.
THE SUN IS HIGH in the sky by the time you put your limbs to work.
The first hours after the pirate locked you in your quarters were spent trying to reign yourself to earth. You can’t be entirely sure your soul has come back to your body, but whatever little of it that has landed is whispering some very dangerous things.
The lamp remains, the ornate jewels glinting almost enticingly in the afternoon light. The flame inside it has long died, but you itch to give it another purpose. You don’t note the trembling of your hand as you reach for it, pushing yourself to your feet as you get a feel for the heavy hunk of glass and metal in your hands.
If there was a level of regard before, it disappears when you set eyes on the bright window and the creases of crystal blue water. With all your strength, you don’t think twice when the lamp makes hard contact, a loud thud erupting as a result, but no damage when you pull away.
You go again, harder this time, and only vaguely register the glass of the lamp that shatters into your hands. Gripping the metal bit tighter, you swing for the third time, pulling back for the strongest blow yet.
A hand wraps around your elbow and you’re yanked backwards, landing on the floor. There’s a kick at your hand that’s flown into the air, the one that holds the bludgeoned lamp. It goes flying across the room as you retract your hand into yourself.
You don’t register a thing as you’re suddenly being pulled back up to your feet. Face to face with the pirate captain, your soul finally clicking back into place.
“Didn’t think I scared you this bad.” He’s made a joke, but all you can see is his face that’s a mask of rage.
The initial instinct is to move away, pulling your elbow out of his grasp in an attempt to flee. You fail as he tightens his grip to a painful degree, hauling you towards the ajar door of the quarters.
It’s only then that you realise that there’s more people in the room.You note another big, burly man next to the window you just assaulted, inspecting it with another shorter man. You don’t get to note more as you’re pulled into the narrow hallway, begging the saints he doesn’t take the turn towards the lower decks. Instead you find he leads you upstairs to where the main deck is.
Walk the plank? Did navy ships have planks to walk on? Not that you’d mind too much, you were trying to drown yourself and this ship in any case. But then there’s a settle of dread in the pit of your stomach, realising death may be the most merciful thing this man could give you.
The pirate captain pushes you against a mast, one of his other minions rushing in with coils of rope on his shoulder. The sun beats down on the deck, not a gust of reprieve from the wind.
“Keep the ropes tight, she’s got less wit than I’d thought,” the pirate captain says with a grunt, huffing as he lets go of you. He takes a few steps away, hands at his hips, the image of vexation.
The person who ties the cords around your hands whispers slowly, “Stop moving.”
But you can’t, not when the panic is near the lip, not when all the possibilities are flashing gore filled images into your vision. It's scary to blink.
“Why won’t you let me die?” you ask to the back that’s turned.
He turns around, not even bothering hiding the exasperation that paints his face, mouth opening furiously before closing again. “Why won’t—Because you were trying to take us all with you!”
“Kill me!” you all but scream. “They won’t know till you’ve gotten what you want, I’d rather be dead than let you try whatever’s brewing in all your sick heads!”
He’s silent for a moment, noting your defiant gaze, your pull against the ropes, the heaving of your chest. Taking a few steps forward, Hoshi seems to be attempting to bring the boil in his blood to a low simmer, “Listen, princess. We’re pirates alright, but me and my crew, we keep to ourselves. If your daddy the king hadn’t decided to meddle and steal my fucking ship, you would’ve been home in your pretty palace, asleep in your bed of gold by now.”
The pirate captain’s face is closer than you’d ever be comfortable with, seething in a way that has you pressing further into the mast. “We may be degenerates but we keep our own morals, as twisted as your people heed them to be.”
When he finally pulls away, you take a breath and thank the air that simply exists, eyes downcast as you attempt to look braver than you feel.
“I’m not pushing you overboard. I’ve duped your people once, they’ll be more prepared next time. We need you alive while you’re in our hands.”
“How are you going to summon a ransom? You sent away your only messengers,” you ask, a sad attempt at a mock, but also because you wanted to know what his plan was.
“Your useless Admiral’s taken up that job.”
“By lifeboat? You’ve left them all for dead, how do you expect this genius plan to work?”
“They could’ve swam to shore if it came to it, we were close enough.”
“How are you so sure?” you spit.
“Do I need to gag you too?” he gives you one last irritated look before stalking off towards the lower deck. You’re left alone in the cooling afternoon heat, the sound of the sea keeping your ears company along with your own slowing breaths.
Everything he said has a good enough chance to be a complete and utter lie. Never trust a pirate. No weapon to cut yourself out of your impossibly tight binds, nothing to protect you or give you reassurance besides a pirate’s word—the worst pirate’s word.
Your battered thinking leads you straight through the setting of the sun, the orange glow of the sky shrouding the ship in the dreamiest backdrop while you live what you can only sum as a nightmare. Perhaps not, for you doubt your mind could ever conjure up a terror like this.
This was life, the most terrifying nightmare of all.
Having managed to wiggle your tied hands downwards, you had seated yourself with your head against the wood of the mast, staring into the translucent skies. So much freedom that taunts you in its illusion of proximity, yet so far still.
There’s murmurs below deck, the only semblance of life you’ve heard in the past few hours after the stupid pirate captain stormed off. It seems to be on the stairs, a heated argument.
“Obviously this wasn’t part of the plan, the chances were supposed to be zero to absolutely none. We landed with that scumbag’s successor, that’s just our piss luck and nothing more.”
“You wanted a woman for bait, this should work the same.”
“Hao, I wanted a woman for bait to trigger a lukewarm reaction, this princess could either doom us all or make our job a fat punch easier, and I’m not betting on the latter.”
There’s a pause.
“If only she’d cut it with the random hysterics and creepy-staring-at-the-sky we could actually get something useful out of her.”
“Pray that window holds up or any chance of a miracle is gone to the wind.”
It’s like you’ve woken up with the way the stupid idea begins to form in your head. You think of your father, the kind of man he is, the kind of ruler he is. All the ‘if’s are guiding you to a conclusion. One that gives you a fighting chance, one that may go beyond this massive navy ship and clear into the rest of your life—if you make it that far anyway.
Your father and his men would come, give this unhinged pirate what he desires so dearly, you know that for sure. But you also know it wouldn’t be for you, but for the crown that’s destined to fall upon your cursed head.
If it’s his ship that he wants…
The next time you see one of the pirate captain’s goons on the deck, you ask for an audience.
“DID YOUR STUPID FATHER drop you on your head as a baby?”
Hoshi stands before you under the light of the midnight moon, an incredulous expression on his face. You try to keep the scowl off your own but it proves difficult when his voice pierces your skull.
You ignore him from your position on the floor, “I know my father, and I know he loathes you enough to finally want you and your incompetent crew gone for good.”
He scratches his chin, “Can’t be that incompetent if he hates us so much.”
“I can help you.”
“You were ready to die than to be on the same ship as us a few hours ago. What’s changed?”
“Perspective,” you shrug in an attempt to remain nonchalant.
“Are you gonna go back to wailing in the morning then?”
God, this was going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do.
“You want your ship back and you were hoping for someone less important to exchange it for. But you’re stuck with me and you know it’s not going to end well for you. You need my help.”
“Why so merciful, miss princess? Are you not on your father’s side?”
You gulp as discreetly as possible.
“I want something in exchange.”
He raises his eyebrows, staring at you to continue.
“I want you to kill my father.”
If his eyebrows were raised before, they’ve broken for the skies now. He leans his head back, eyes closing for a moment before reopening, reigning back to you before asking very gracefully, “What?”
“I want you to kill my father.”
“No, I got that bit,” he snaps. “Your father as in, the King?”
“Yes, as you’ve pointed out far more times than anyone ever has.” You can’t help but roll your eyes despite the weight of the situation and the hammering in your chest.
He stares at you in an expression you can’t quite read, and it unsettles you deeply. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve gravely miscalculated, watching as he moves around the mast you’re tied to. Out of the corner of your eye you see the metal glint of a dagger, and you nearly short circuit.
Is he about to cut your hands off?
You feel a distinct tug at your wrists, the sound of slicing, and the voice in your head asking why it didn’t hurt.
Suddenly your hands are free, intact and free as you achingly bring them in front of you, wincing audibly at the pain of moving them after so long.
“You can jump into the water if you’d like, I won’t stop you.” He walks back over, sitting cross legged opposite you, at eye level.
“What?”
“You’ve clearly gone mad, I’ll find another way to get my ship back.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Of course, and I utterly enjoy having a kingdom’s worth of blood on my hands. Shall I take the entirety of the court down while we’re at it? Carry out a fucking waltz with Jack Ketch?”
“Why are you acting like you’re above murder? Another part of your strange moral code?”
“No, no, not above it at all. But I like my head and rather not have it guillotined. They might skim over the death of some too-nosy soldier but I doubt they’d leave me be after I put a bullet between the King’s eyes.”
“I’ll protect you.”
He looks at you for a moment, “Quite reassuring.”
You sit up straighter, licking your lips as you prepare yourself. “My father isn’t a good man.”
The pirate captain snorts, “Oh, I’m well aware.”
You try not to stare too hard at the still unsheathed dagger that he digs into the floorboards, knifing out splinters in disregard.
“My father doesn’t want me home, he wants the crown home. He wants me to be a carbon copy of himself, he wants to be in control long after he’s gone.” You try not to grind your teeth too hard but it’s difficult when your father’s face burns behind your eyelids. “I want control over the throne, full control.”
“And your conclusion is to eliminate him.”
“I don’t have another choice.”
“Then what? You’ll pardon me and my crew after we get our hands dirty for you?” he asks, eyes wide in mock hope.
“Yes. You can do whatever it is that you sail about doing and no one will be of bother. I might ask you for sparing favours. For a wage of course. But other than that, you can live as lawlessly as you wish.”
“You’re asking me to become your personal lackey?”
“Having a queen’s favour is no small feat I hope you’re aware. Besides, it's a leap better than the hoops you’ve been jumping through during my father’s reign.”
You realised his face had been shrouded by the dark between your negotiating and the clouds that had veiled the moon. Every moment that was supposed to strengthen your understanding of the man that sat across from you only brought you more confusion.
“You want your ship and freedom of land and sea,” you continue when it’s silent for a beat too long. “I only ask for a small favour in return.”
“I’d argue the miniscule nature of what you’re asking from me,” he scoffs.
“Nothing is too outlandish when it’s a life of liberty on the line.”
There crawls in the silence once again, the same one that seems to grab you by the throat for every moment that ticks past undisturbed.
“We’ll have to see to that,” he says, huffing as he gets back on his boot clad feet. You follow him with your eyes as he walks towards the creaky stairs that lead to the lower deck, utterly confused.
“Where are you going?” you ask, bewildered at his strange behaviour.
Turning around, just as he had a mere day ago in your quarters and you feel yourself suppressing a shudder. “I have a crew to consult.”
So he was considering it.
“But you’re the captain.”
“And?”
THE SKY IS A lighter sheen of blue, leaning towards the premature hours of the morning. He’d left you untied, and as you gaze into the duned waters in the minimal light, the urge to jump in and create a ripple that goes beyond just the water is less tempting than you’d thought. The prospect of having a dead father, and a dead king, was enough to snap you out of your hysteria despite it being a plot of your own devising.
You’ve been alone for a while, little indication that there was other life on this ship at all with the lack of human activity. There wasn’t much that you knew of sailing or ship handling, but leaving the deck unmanned for this long gave you the vague impression that you were on a vessel with poor practising pirates. If they’d thought you’d be equipped to handle any hiccups, they’d either find out the hard way, or whenever it was that you could find the wit to bring it up to the pirate captain and his strangely attached crew.
Something that sounds distinctly like boots are thudding gradually up to the main deck, the unmistakable blond of the pirate captain himself coming into view. You aren’t quite sure what it is, but the low thuds are sending your heart racing, panic overcoming your senses for a brief moment before you recalibrate. It’s only then that you realise it’s been more than 24 hours since the ship was hijacked. Somehow, you could have believed it was a lifetime.
He’s disturbingly nonchalant, hand at the sheathed hilt of the dagger at his hip, a casual glance around at the empty abyss of ocean and sky. When he reaches the far end of the deck, right above the prow, he stops.
“Are you going to push me off the rails?” you ask, half genuine, half trying to fill the silence as you face one another.
“No.” He said it plainly, the single word reply leaving you even more uncomfortable.
“Have you thought about what I said…with your crew?” you ask, hand coming up to grab the railing for support.
“I did.”
“Do I sense an objection?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat
“Not exactly,” he says. “We want to hear your master plan for this heist before we agree to anything.”
He’s asking for a plan, a plan that you do not have.
You aren’t sure how he figured it out, perhaps it was the slight darting of your eyes as you thought of a response, but he seemed to read you like a book. He snorts loudly, “You don’t have a clue, do you?”
“You’ve done this before, you’d know better.”
“And if I led you astray?”
You look at him, this time right into his dark eyes, “Then you lead me astray.”
“Your contentment with death is wildly unsettling.” There’s a ghost of a sneer at his lip.
“I’d rather be lounging in the bottom of the ocean than live with a prospective future with my father.”
“So I’ve heard.”
There’s a huff that leaves you as you steel your voice. “I’m not trying to set you up if that’s what you’re afraid of.”
“I doubt you’d have that capability,” he says as he leans his forearms over the railing. You briefly consider pushing him over but think better of it.
As much as you wanted to be a sneaky link, you simply didn’t have that trait. You blame all the dependency your father’s fostered into you, ensuring that you couldn’t rule without his influence.
“Are you willing to brew a plan or not? I need to time my dip in the ocean accordingly,” you say, sounding almost disgruntled.
He lets out a big sigh, “Follow me.”
He’s made himself familiar with the ship, you soon realise, as he leads you right downstairs to the lower deck towards the war room. When he opens the door, the room is lit with lamps, casting a golden glow on the reddish interior, warmer than the rest of the ship.
“Stay here, and don’t do anything stupid,” he tells you as he shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone in the cabin.
You only exhale in response as you turn away from the door, towards the large table in the centre. It’s slightly cluttered, studying the scrawled notes as you realise they’re all from the Admiral, his directions and plans of course littered across the table. Turning towards the map on the walls, you lift a finger to trace the lifted ridges of snow capped mountains, trailing towards the dipped shallows of the blue water.
It was an exact replica of the tactile map in the war room back home, and you’re suddenly hit with a pang of nostalgia. Not that you’d been away from home for too long, but the end result of what you're about to do, regardless of the outcome, would change your life forever.
You feel yourself breathing in the lingering scent of mildew, a strange comfort in the warm quarters.
There’s a creak at the door, and you quickly retract to find the pirate captain back at the door, walking in with a trail of men behind him. You recognise them by their faces, watching as they all take their places in the edges of the room. They look relaxed. You note the pirate captain taking his place behind the main drawing table.
“Your throne, miss princess.” He gestures exaggeratedly towards the lone cushioned chair across from him. You’re hyper aware of all the eyes that are trailed on you, and you feel almost embarrassed to take the only seat.
It only lasts for a moment. You walk up to the chair with what you hope exuded confidence and take your place across from the pirate captain. His men circle the edge of the room, and you count five other men.
He sighs, “I think introductions are in order.”
“Mingyu, Minghao,” he points to the two men that had inspected your window right after you tried breaking it open.
“Jun,” he gestures to the one who had found you in your quarters the night it all went wrong.
“Seungkwan and Chan,” you recognize the latter as the one who’d tied you to the mast at his captain’s command.
“They’ll be helping kill your dear father.”
It’s silent for a moment as you attempt to moisten your mouth. You’re reminded you haven’t eaten or drank for hours, not since one of them had come up with a tray of whatever they could find for you from the reserves.
“I know I may not be the most admissible person to trust, or vice versa—” You hear someone snort but choose to ignore it. “But I’m willing to make myself useful to you if it means you would help me too.”
“Would it not be easier to lock him up instead?” someone asks, and you turn to find Seungkwan asking the question from next to the tactile map.
“He has too many people indebted to him, too many that are too loyal for their own good. I cannot truly rule for as long as he’s alive and well.”
“And how do you expect his loyal court mongers to let you bid favour to the people who killed their king?” the pirate captain asks with a raised brow.
“Which is why it needs to look like an accident.”
“How do you reckon we go about that?”
“What message have you given the Admiral?”
“You don’t answer a question with another question—”
“We need to be transparent with each other if either of us wants to make it out relatively unscathed.”
He doesn’t look too happy but he answers anyway, “My ship and five hundred thousand for all our trouble. Two months from now at the Green Islands up north.”
The Green Islands were anything but green, the glaciers being near uninhabitable owed to the ruthless weather. It was smart enough, it’d be near impossible to bring as much violent power that far north, no matter how influential anyone is.
“Is five hundred thousand all I’m worth?” you feel the beginnings of a sneer rise up your mouth. You aren’t sure what prompted it but you don’t want to fight it either.
“Didn’t know I was bartering for a fucking princess’ case, did I?” he snaps. “Now tell us how you want us to commit the undetected homicide of a King.”
“We need to blow up his ship.” To your surprise (and maybe even a little horror), the pirate captain breaks into a slight grin. Neither do you miss other bits of his crew releasing a bit of a snicker.
There’s a flare of defiance within you, “Do you have any better ideas then?”
“No, no. Go on,” he says with his head hung. You’re surprised he has the character to shield his smile.
“He doesn’t frequent the seas but I’m almost sure he’d be present at the exchange.”
“Almost?” he questions.
You hesitate. The combined chance of needing the crown home and seeing to the downfall of his enemies would be enough warmth to send him to the greenlands himself. You were confident, but your father could also be unpredictable.
“He’ll be there. I’m sure of it.”
The pirate captain lifts his head, locking eyes with you. You try not to look as weak as you felt, as unsure as you felt, pooling all the remaining confidence into your face.
He swallows before looking away, addressing one of the crew members. “How big are we talking?”
Jun looks up like he’s only just begun to pay attention, fumbling over the revolver in his hands as it thuds to the ground like a theatrical mistake, “What?”
His captain sighs before replying, “Explosion. How big does it need to be to blow up a naval ship with a King on it?”
The man brings a hand up to the back of his head, scratching his nape. “If it’s anything like this one, we’re gonna need a lot of ammo.”
“Just enough to sink it,” you speak before you could decide not to. “Even better if they don’t realise it’s happening.”
He thinks for a moment. “We could plant it in the bilge somehow.”
“But how do we get on that ship? When they’re giving us a tour of the lower decks?” The man you recall as Seungkwan scoffs.
“Throw a grenade on board somehow?” you hear one of them suggest.
“Real subtle, Chan,” you hear another mock.
The war room is in shambles before you know it, loud voices talking over threats to slit throats and to shove people overboard. The room is humid and it feels as though the light from the oil lamps are fading. You close your eyes amidst the utter chaos, rubbing the heel of your palm on your temple in an attempt to soothe the throbbing vein.
“Enough!” The pirate captain has spoken and you have the urge to ask what took him so long.
Tranquility once again and you almost thank the man. Before anyone can say another word, nausea begins to build in your stomach.
It takes you a minute to realise the room was spinning and that you weren’t completely losing your mind. The ship begins to rock harder as the seconds tick by, everybody in the room seemingly still as they perceive the change.
“Batten down the hatches,” the pirate captain says to no one in particular.
Chan is the only one who moves to the door to leave before he’s interrupted.
“All of you. Those clouds weren’t looking too nice up there, we’ve got a storm on our hands.”
By everyone he surely did not mean you, because as the room rushes out and you hear the thuds of boots clamouring up to the main deck, you’re left alone with the captain. Yet again.
It’s becoming increasingly difficult to keep steady, and you wonder how he’s able to remain balanced while on his feet. It isn’t long before your chair begins to slide as well, the legs croning as they slip on the hardwood. You spring up on instinct, hands coming to the bolted down drawing table to stabilise yourself.
The pirate captain seems unphased, moving the curtains on the far end to try to get a glimpse at where the water breaks. He steps like he knows exactly where the evermoving floor would be, barely glancing below to gauge his footing.
“Shouldn’t you be up there?” There’s effort in your voice, your grip on the table as hard as ever as the ship banks to a hard left. He barely grabs the wall in support.
“Huh? They can figure it out themselves, they’re big boys,” he grunts.
“Your big boys were at each other’s throats a moment ago,” you grunt back, stumbling at a particularly forceful lurch.
“If you weren’t so ill prepared they wouldn’t need to use their brains, that’s always dangerous,” he shoots back. He’s on the other end of the room, pushing the unbolted cabinet back in its place
“I gave you a job and it's up to you to see it done, I’m not—ah— I’m not supposed to be planning at all!”
“Are you?” He’s turned to look at you know, mouth hitched in a snarl as his forehead reflects a light sheen. “Because trying to murder a—”
“Trying to murder a King isn’t a normal task,” you finish for him in a hiss. “Yes, as you’ve reiterated a million times.”
“Great, so you know!” Sarcasm is a deadly look on him, you realise as he walks over from the cabinet to where you were in the middle of the room. The waves have given in, the rocking becoming significantly slower. “Now do you mind telling us about a plan that actually has better odds?”
Your white knuckles have relented, the hands that gripped the table coming loose as you stare back at the pirate in defiance. “I should just hand you over.”
“It’s sweet you think you’re in charge here,” the grit in his voice is evident. “This isn’t your turf anymore, miss princess.”
“You don’t trust me, and you don’t give me reason to trust you—ugh.”
The waves seemed to have decided she hadn’t had enough just yet, this particular lurch sending you hurtling backwards into the wall, back hitting the hardwood as the stable pirate himself loses his footing. You could almost believe you’d landed sideways with the gravity that’s lost its way beneath your feet.
The chair you were once sitting on is hurtling towards you with a vengeance, gaining momentum as you simply watch it approach like a wooden bullet. A boot clad foot kicks it to the other end and you realise the pirate captain’s gotten hold of his bearings before you have.
“What happened to being transparent with one another?” he huffs, breathless and wide eyed as he attempts to pull himself to his feet.
There’s another lurch that sends you both skidding towards the table, just short of grabbing on before you’re hurtled into the cabinet that had moved again, and now slams back into the wall with the weight of the sea and two humans with a bang!
“Fine. You give me your ammo to blow up the bilge, let me on the ship with my dear father and one of you scoops in and saves me before I drown with him,” you yell over the sounds of clanging and banging of everything on this cursed ship, and the whooshing and thunders of the skies, winds and water. “And if I riddled the chances of you letting me drown with my father? Where does that leave me?”
“On the bottom of the seabed,” he deadpans. “But that also leaves me without my freedom.”
You find the opportunity to look at him for a moment, and he’s looking at you too. He looks away towards the door, already making moves to walk out and join his crew above deck. The conversation was over, and it was evident in your lack of reply.
Mother nature, however, sends another one in as a surprise and you're both sent flying to the other end of the ship, yet again.
There’s a cushion to your blow this time as you find yourself landing right into the pirate captain’s chest, hand above his heart in your instinct to save yourself any more bruises. Between your bickering and the staggering of the ship, his shirt had flown open nearly down to his navel.
Your eyes barely register the nasty scar across his left pec, instead moving upwards to lock eyes with him. It’s insanity, how you instinctively dart your eyes towards his half open mouth.
“If you wanted me that bad, miss princess, you could’ve just asked.”
Whatever airborne drug that’d been willy nillying in your noggin seems to spin into a rage as his words register a moment too late. Clenched jaw and a vice grip on his shirt, you spit back.
“I don’t ask for things. They come to me.”
There’s a crash above you and you realise the oil lamp that was suspended above has shattered, raining glass over your forms.
Expect you don’t feel it, because he’s ducked over you and suspended his arms in the air to catch the crystalline.
Before you can decide whether it was instinct or not, you hear a yell at the door.
“Captain! One of the—oh.”
A barely balancing Mingyu, is staring into the now dimly lit war room, his captain and their supposed prisoner pressed against one another in a dark corner of the room.
Your instinct forces you to take a slow step backwards.
“Get back up,” he snarls, already pushing past you to stalk towards the door. He actually makes it this time, shoving Mingyu into the hall towards the stairs.
Not as much as a glance back before he slams the door shut, leaving you in the tattered war room alone, shards of glass at your feet.
THE STORM SEEMS TO have done its damage as it calmed itself for the rest of the morning and well into the day.
One of them had come down and escorted you to your quarters, Chan telling you that you could keep it while the rest of them adjusted in the other cots and quarters aboard. Changing out of your ragged, days old clothes felt luxurious, the familiar scent of your quarters putting your tense shoulders at ease; or at least a semblance of such.
Neither you nor the captain have attempted to speak to each other after the incident in the war room. Having berated yourself for letting your guard down enough, you chalked it up to the lack of food and sleep and put the matter to rest in some deeply buried chest in your head.
For now you board up the door of your cabin (because you haven’t completely lost it), and burrow under the covers for some much needed shut eye.
You aren’t sure how long the universe lets you rest, because unless you’ve slept all the way to the Green Islands the banging on the door seems incessant enough to warrant an arrest of its own. The sleep is slow to leave, and it’s hard enough to push an entire drawer against a door, the bleariness paired with whoever the fuck was outside the door isn’t making it easier to push it away from the entrance either.
By the time you’ve wrenched the door open, you’re thoroughly annoyed, and met with a very alarmed Seungkwan.
“Oh thank goodness, I was about to try opening it,” he says, looking genuinely relieved. “I thought you might’ve….anyway.”
“You weren’t trying to break in before?” you ask.
He only thrusts a tray of rations and water towards you, “Captain said to give this to you.”
Accepting the tray, you try to balance it in one hand with furrowed brows, “Oh.”
“Um. That’s it, sorry for waking you up.” He makes a move like he’s about to turn around and leave but falters. “If…if you need anything a bunch of us are on the main deck.”
And then he’s gone.
You take it as your cue to shut the door, kicking one of the heftier pieces of furniture against it before moving back inside.
When you peer up your tiny window, it’s late afternoon and the beginnings of orange on the surface tell you the sun is beginning to set. You decide it was a good enough amount of sleep. Setting the tray down on the smaller than usual desk, you find that these pirates do not have a knack for subtlety. Many of your letters and papers are haphazardly stacked and shoved into one corner of the table, very obviously sifted through.
Not that you care too much, there was nothing awfully important that you wouldn't have told them yourself. Ripping off a piece of bread from the tray, you take pleasure in chewing as loudly and as open mouthed as you wished, plucking the parchment at the top of the pile to study.
It’s another one signed by your father, not a question of your wellbeing in sight as he scrawls ink on paper all the incorrect things you did in the Southerner’s banquet last month. If anything, you were glad the stupid Admiral was away from your presence, his incessant habit of reporting your every breath and turn to your father was becoming too much to handle.
This was one of his tamer letters, less insults attached to his criticisms but a pain to read anyway. You don’t brush away the crumbs that fall onto the parchment.
There is not a diplomatic bone in your body. Perhaps move on from drinks and dessert and into more important territories besides the Duke’s son. Our kingdom needs a ruler that’s strong, not one that forgets where she is after a sip of brandy!
If you squint hard enough, it almost reads as a parent scolding a child for a spill, like regardless of what you did, he might just love you the same.
You wonder how good of a mood he was in when he wrote this.
Sifting through the rest of the papers you take a mental note of every reason he’s given you to believe that you’d be a hopeless ruler, a few years ago you even questioned why he kept you around before realising his contradicting intentions. As you read, letter by letter, you think of reasons you know are going to make you a better ruler, better than him and better than his stupid court of old men.
These pirates are a blessing, you think, and you aren’t about to let this chance from the universe drown in these waters.
HOSHI ISN'T IN TROUBLE. No, he isn’t. On his butt on the sleek floorboards of the ship, his own golden dagger glinting in the sunlight as it's held in a threatening hold, except it isn’t in his hands.
It’s pointed right into his jugular vein, held by some grimy sailor who considers himself something akin to a pirate. Perhaps the stench this sorry excuse of a crew carries around may be their idea of a criteria, but as Hoshi remains inches away from death, all he can think about is the atrocious fingers around his dagger, and all the scrubbing he’s going to be doing after this is all over.
Mingyu had warned him, told him to take down the flag of the navy from the mast, the royal seal in the smack middle of the ginormous thing. He brushed it off. He wasn’t quite sure if he was tipsy, hungry or just plain exhausted when he made that decision, because he’d forgotten just how stupid some of these simpleton sailors could get.
They were taken by surprise, their only weapons mops and buckets of soapy water as they were ambushed by some overlooked wherry that had suddenly thrown hooks over their railing and climbed up like uninvited sewer rats.
In the initial confusion, interrupted mid-chorus of some pretty siren and her pirate prince, the first few intruders had simply crumpled over onto the slippery deck, a few slipping overboard completely from the suds and water on the wood. His crew, and Hoshi himself, could only stand and watch as the newcomers sabotaged themselves for a few incredulous moments before they gained their bearings.
Chan and Seungkwan swang their mops right into the necks of a couple, sending them into the ocean without waiting for a splash.
Hoshi slips out his dagger with practised ease, swinging the butt of the hilt over the head of another ambushing intruder, right on the head as he crumpled to the floor with a loud thud. He kicks him over for an indication of where he came from. No ink that shows an alliance, no brooch or jewels with a crest.
New guys, ones that were clearly still learning the ropes.
Hoshi’s crew had better senses than required for him to yell out orders, and it only took a few more disgruntled minutes to disable the remaining extra men aboard.
“Where the fuck did these guys come from?” he asks no one in particular, mostly just annoyed that they were disturbed.
Minghao, who’s peeking over the railing replies, “It’s a tiny thing. They either lost their actual boat or didn’t have one at all.”
He vaguely registers him making a jerking arm movement over the exterior before he hears a wail and a splash. “Disgusting.” Minghao holds his hands away from his body like he didn’t want it anymore.
Hoshi’s mistake was keeping his guard down, because before anyone could warn him, the dagger that he held loosely against his hip had slipped out his palm. The next thing he knows, his neck is in some grimy sleeve’s grip, and the point of his dagger is lodged into his own throat. He holds his breath, afraid he might pass out completely from the stench alone.
“Not a move.” He sounds like a boy more than anything, but his grip indicates a harsher life. “Everybody into that fishing boat. I’ll throw this one in when you’re done.”
He sounds unstable, but that only makes him more dangerous. Hoshi can’t try to wiggle his way out of this one, one wrong move and it’s the end. His crew can’t do anything as they stand with broken mops and empty buckets as their weapons.
It was stupid of him to even allow himself to be cornered like this, not when he’s weaselled his way out of more dangerous situations with more ease than this.
His crew looks at him, and he can only close his eyes in encouragement. He watches as Jun steps over one of the defeated bodies to reach the hooks that’ve lodged into the railing. His movements are slow, and he can tell he notices the unhinged nature of this boy that he doubts is barely over 17.
Chan follows, then Seungkwan as Jun double checks the integrity of the ropes. He’s stalling.
“Hurry!” It was supposed to come out as a threat, but it sounded more like a plea from the boy.
And then Jun stops completely, his eyes trained on Hoshi. His eyes are wide, his grip on the rope so tight he can see the whites of his knuckles from the other side of the ship.
No, he wasn’t looking at him, he was looking behind him. Before he can register, there’s a loud bang of a gunshot, and Hoshi feels the body of his captor slump against his back, his dagger dropping to the ground with an ominous clang. He falls with him, turning over to push the dead weight of the body off of him.
There’s smoke in the air when Hoshi looks back and it takes him a moment to realise who just basically saved his life.
You stand in your nightgown, shawl over your shoulders, and a revolver, Jun’s revolver, clenched tightly in both hands. It remains frozen in the air, hovering as he takes in your face. Eyes wide, mouth open slightly, the colour drained from your face.
Hoshi scrambles to get up as the rest of the crew swarm both him and you. He grabs his dagger before anything else, looking back to see a bullet lodged in the back of his captor’s skull, blood pooling the deck.
He looks back at you shoving the revolver back into Jun’s hands eagerly, like you didn’t want to feel the warmth of the metal any more than you wanted to make that shot.
He looks back at the cooling body, and then back at you, an undeniable warmth overcoming his chest.
You just saved his life.
“Are you alright?” he hears Chan ask you. You nod slowly, and then quickly.
“Where did you find this?” Jun asks.
“Uh, in one of the quarters. Downstairs. I went down because I thought it’d be safer, you were handling it and I didn’t want to get in the way. But then…all your weapons were there.”
Your voice sounds airy, like you were in a daze. Hoshi comes to the stark realisation that this may have been your first time with a weapon, and then even more horrifying, your first kill.
“I’m sorry, I just thought it was getting out of hand and—”
“It’s alright,” Seungkwan says. He watches as you let him lead you back down the stairs below decks.
It was like the shock turned you into a different person, complacent, less defiant. Seungkwan clearly had more of an emotional range, because it certainly took Hoshi too long to realise you might be on the edge of panic.
Hoshi doesn’t say a word as you disappear, the smell of gunpowder from the singular shot wafting through the deck. He doesn’t realise he’s staring into space until Mingyu interrupts.
“Should we—”
“Throw them overboard,” Hoshi says, voice flat.
“But, this one seems like he’ll come around. We could question him and drop him off wherever next—”
“He’s a shit seaman, if even a pirate, he’s got what came for him. Throw. Him. Overboard.” Hoshi is out of breath, yet grits the words out through clenched teeth. “All of them.”
Hoshi slips his dagger back into its sheath at his hip. All he can think about is your blown pupils and you in your nightgown. All he can think about is how they were almost bested by a child. All he can think about is how you had to make that final shot to save his ass, that he couldn’t do it himself.
Mingyu senses his mood and asks no more questions, simply pushing the remaining bodies out into the water. He vaguely registers Minghao sending the men a prayer into the sea. Mingyu’s already trying to get the stupid naval flag off the mast, stripping off his jacket and disposing of it at the base to start climbing.
Chan pushes a clean rag into his chest, and he looks down to receive it and notes a tinge of blood at his collar. Right, he was bleeding.
They go back to cleaning, except it’s a lot more silent.
Jun walks back up to help, but this time he has both of his clean, black revolvers strapped at his hip.
THERE WERE FEWER PEOPLE in the war room this time around, the captain sits beside Mingyu, Jun and Minghao as they attempt to sketch out a crude rendition of your discussion. The pirate captain does nothing but use his dagger to pick under his nails, barely speaking as he listens in on the conversation.
Not that you cared, you and the rest of his crew seemed to get along better than you did with the captain anyway. Saving the man’s life seemed to hold no weight to him, not that you expected it but a ‘thank you’ would have sufficed.
“Keep the grenade til the last minute if it makes you feel better, so you’ll know I’m not trying to sink the wrong ship,” you sigh as you clarify. Minghao doesn’t reply as he scribbles the details. Jun rolls his eyes at his meticulous nature.
“We need to port in the next couple days if I’m gonna finish this grenade in time,” he says, looking at his captain pointedly.
“We can stop at Port Ash,” Hoshi says.
Port Ash was no man’s land, which also meant it was every man’s land.
Being mostly occupied by pirates and other thieves and criminals it was considered dangerous territory for anyone who didn’t speak in lies, deceit and fists. This crew would fit right in, but you worry for yourself.
“That’s not gonna be till a week and a half,” Mingyu interjects.
Jun frowns as he looks at Mingyu and then back at his captain, “I can’t wait that long.”
“We’ll pick up what we can at Hasry when we stop for rations,” Hoshi replies.
“But—”
“Deal with it. There’s nothing we can do about it.”
Jun looks like he wants to say something, and Mingyu has the good sense to interject again to ask more questions about the plan.
“How much manpower do you think the king’ll have?” he asks.
You sigh, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair. “I have no idea. Could be five, could be fifty.”
“Not even an inkling?”
“Considering how he wants the lot of you gone, it’s probably on the larger side. But…” you pause.
“But?”
“He’s smart. Always seemingly one step ahead. I wouldn’t be surprised if he catches us blind.”
“I know enough about that,” Hoshi snorts. There’s a glint in his eye that suggests something, but you don’t press.
“I was wondering…we should probably change course even if it takes us longer. My father might intercept—”
“Did that. Didn’t take the obvious alternative route either,” Mingyu replies, and you note that he looks proud of himself. “We can take our time too, the ransom note suggested we took the way past Scarsfield.”
“We should be careful of other boats anyway,” you say, gulping down a lump in your throat before continuing. “Those other sailors could’ve been my father’s men too, for all we know.”
“They were on a smaller boat too,” Hoshi adds, he looks like he’s making connections in his brain. “What’re the odds they were dropped farther back into a smaller boat?”
There’s a pause as you absorb what he’s implying. “Are you saying they’re on our tail?”
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” he says, exhaling heavily through his nose. “He’s done it before. It was a sorry attempt then and it was a sorry attempt now.”
“How did you shake him off last time?”
The panic in your chest is barely there, but as you register the possibility, you find yourself breathing increasingly heavy.
“Circling farther out before going the opposite way so we wouldn’t cross paths.” He shakes his head. “But we can’t do that now, not when we can’t afford detouring. The port stops are as late as I’m willing to go.”
“What if we skip Hasry? It’s our more obvious stop, we’ll just stop at Ash later,” Minghao suggests.
“We’ll starve, we’ve got no food,” Hoshi gruffs.
“Portwater?”
“Too far.”
It’s silent yet again as everyone racks their brains. You feel very useless all of a sudden, you didn’t know the names of harbours or ports this far out.
“We’ll just port at Hasry and be extra careful, there’s nothing we can do.” Hoshi sighs at his own ultimatum.
He gets up and walks around the table to the door, “I’ll update the others.”
You glance as he walks past you, his figure leaving a gust of wind in your face. He smelled nice, which was saying something considering the state some pirates are known to be in. As he brushes past, your gaze is met with the other side of the war room, an empty oil lamp bracket on the wall.
The memory of the storm floods your mind, and suddenly your cheeks are burning. Snapping your head back, you're thankful they’re all absorbed in the papers and plans on the table, oblivious to the memory that’s flashed before your eyes. Mingyu was the one who saw you in your compromising position, and you didn’t know him well enough to decide whether he’d do something as dumb as dish out his captain’s ‘affairs’.
You file out the room with them. They don’t escort you to your rooms, make sure you stay in one place, restrict your wandering anymore. Perhaps they’d realised you weren’t actively attempting to sink the ship anymore, or that if you jumped off the edge it didn’t matter to them that much, but you appreciated the space anyway.
Briefly catching Seungkwan filling Mingyu in on the past couple hours they’d been below deck, you turn over to catch his eye. He waves, and you wave back. You don’t realise what you did till it already happened, noting the smile on his face as he did it. You choose to move past it and find the captain.
There was something you wanted from him.
There’s no trace of him on the main deck, eyes scanning the area to no avail. A movement from above catches your peripheral attention, eyes squinting as you crane your neck up to look. Hoshi has leaned his back against the railing of the crow’s nest, arms crossed, visible hand occupied with a brass telescope that glints in the sunlight.
He isn’t using it though, merely gazing at the horizon with furrowed brows. As though he could see better without the device in his hand. In the few minutes that you’re looking at him, you notice the muraled, multicoloured shirt that blows with the wind, a kaleidoscope of beiges, greens and reds. The crop of his blonde hair blends in with the clear blue-white sky.
Briefly wondering how he’s managing the impossible heat, a hand coming over your own eyes as a visor, you simply look back down. Seungkwan is next to you. You aren’t quite sure how he got there, but he stands next to you, hands on his hips, a pleasant expression on his face.
“Is there anything you want when we dock? We’re trying to make a list,” he says. Somehow, the prospect of pirates making lists boggled you a little. It was a little jarring, not quite sure why he asked a captive anyway.
But then again, were you a captive anymore?
“I don’t think so, no,” you reply and then juggle whether you should push it with another measly formality. “Thank you for asking.”
“That was your first kill, wasn’t it?”
“What?” You knew what he was talking about, but you weren’t expecting him to bring it up in the moment when he’s asking you about restocking supplies. And especially not with a smile on his face.
“That day, when you used Jun’s revolver to shoot the lad.”
A kid. He was a child.
“I…yeah I’d never done it before.”
“What made you do it?” he asks, remaining as nonchalant as ever.
“I—I don’t know, it looked like there wasn’t another option,” you say, not quite sure of yourself either.
Why did you shoot him? You’d never laid hands on a gun before, your father forced you into the category of archery and crossbows, not that you were very good at them either but it was also because you simply wanted to spite your father by being plain bad. It worked, because it only took a year and a half and an arrow straight into his study window to retire from the sport entirely.
Even then, your targets had been apples, barrels and tree trunks. Never a person.
You’d heard of what people tended to do in pressuring situations, and with the way the aftermath unfolded, it didn’t seem like you made the wrong decision to pick up that revolver anyway.
But the feeling lingers, the same one that you saw as you gazed into the back of the boy that held the captain of this ship hostage. It felt wrong. Like watching the pirate captain cornered was a picture you couldn’t quite make sense of in your head.
So you pulled the trigger.
“In any case, we’re glad you made that decision. We all owe you for it.”
You don’t know what to say to that, so you gulp, inhale and press your lips in a line. “That’s a lot for a pirate to say.”
“I know.”
BY THE TIME YOU manage to corner Hoshi it’s already the next day, and you’re only a couple hours away from docking at Hasry.
It’s an anxious ordeal, the crow’s nest constantly occupied by someone trying to catch sight of a possible tail. There was no sign, yet anyway.
“I want to learn to use a knife.”
He was piling coiled ropes when you’d said it, pushing the heap to the side, sweating through his clothes. There was a flash of confusion on his face as he registered you.
“Why? So you can slit all our throats in our sleep?” he grumbles as he pushes a barrel against the railing. He’s too aggressive, and the force has the splashback soaking his clothes in freshwater, tsk-ing audibly.
You ignore the way his previously loose shirt now sticks to him, ignore the way the droplets land on your boots when he shakes his sleeve.
“We’ve discussed what we might be up against, I don’t want to be useless when the time comes.”
“Seemed pretty alright with that revolver.”
“Anyone can shoot a gun,” you say, getting the sudden urge to fidget with the front of your shirt. You try to make your voice sound as declarative as possible. “I want to learn to fight. With a knife, with a sword, with my hands if I have to.”
He doesn’t say anything as you look down, fiddling with the tassels on your shirt. Your excuse was the sun and the way it was beating down on the deck this afternoon, getting tired of squinting to simply look straight. When the silence prolongs you look up to push further, juggling with bringing up the fact that you saved his life and that, as Seungkwan very graciously told you, he owes you.
The sound your throat makes is unhuman, because when you look up the captain's soaked shirt is now off his back.
The skin is near white from the glare of the sun, remnants of glazed water that’s somehow made its way to his back as well. The dip in his shoulder blade reflected a dark marking, one that you couldn’t make out.
He wrings it as you can only watch, mouth gaping like a fish. Hanging it over one of the suspended ropes to dry, he mutters as he walks to the lower decks.
“Fine,” he says nonchalantly. “We’ll get you a knife at Hasry.”
Hasry. Right.
The port is quiet, at least as quiet as a port can be. There’s not much to see but fishermen both returning and leaving for another week's worth of fish supply. Minghao manages to pay and convince the harbourmaster that they were merchants on their way back to the Kingdom, stopping for supplies. The naval make of the ship helped, and then the crew pulled lines and ropes secured from masts in ways you couldn’t quite decipher.
You assumed you would stay on board, yet when Chan knocked and brought you some roughspun clothes from the town, you were informed you’d be joining them.
Hoshi deemed it safer, keeping the rest of the crew on board while he, along with you and Seungkwan, ventured into the village to get what was needed and leave before the sun fully set. If they really were being followed, the ship was going to be the first thing they seized.
Pulling the grey shawl further up your head, you attempt to look as blended as you could, Chan pressing down your shoulders to force you into a slouch.
“Stop walking like you're important,” he had said.
“I’m a princess,” you snapped back, but he wasn’t listening, only jabbing at you to keep the haughtiness out of your tone before it caught somebody’s attention.
The town was a quaint little place, something out of what you were read from storybooks, reminiscent of the paintings that you’d run past on the walls of the palace. The streets cleaner than you’d expected, the faint scent of baked goods in the air mixed with, onion soup, was it? In any case you were glad you were past the fish market, the yelling and the stench nearly sending you to the pavement, gagging.
When Hoshi returns, you and Chan are looking at a jewellery stall that’s selling necklaces, bracelets and anklets that look like rosaries; colours of deep ocean blue and sunset pinks, beautifully vibrant against their grey canvas backdrop.
You can only observe from afar, instructed to not interact with anyone while he was gone. Hoshi was gone to get food supplies, but returned empty handed. Systems were in place, that the crates would be on their way to the “big naval ship” at the docks for the rest of the crew to receive.
“They said there was a blacksmith up this alley” Hoshi says, eyes also trained on the uncharacteristically colourful jewellery stall, but he does nothing to move towards it. “We can get your knife there.”
“Knife?” Chan asks, confused.
“Miss princess wants to learn to fight—”
“Don’t!” Chan hisses, eyeing the men in black uniform that patrol the market from the shadows.
“It’s fine, they’re too far,” Hoshi says. “Let’s get this over with.”
You do find a blacksmith, an older man with a greying beard and bloodshot eyes that presents Hoshi and Chan with an array of knives and daggers. Either they were able to give an excuse, or he gave no mind to the third woman that trailed behind, the blacksmith continued to deal with the two men as they haggle over prices.
There’s another seller a ways away, and she’s laid out her goods on the floor on what looks like old drapes. It’s a woman, not much older than you were, unravelling a long string of leather cord. She cuts it, strings a charm through and seals the frayed end with a candle flame that burns at her side.
The curtain she’s laid her accessories on is patterned with bright colours, and you realise you can’t make out any of it from where you stand.
Glancing behind you, the men are still occupied with their bartering, seemingly forgetting of your presence. Taking a step back, you pretend to skim through the neighbouring stalls, glancing breezily at woven baskets, layers of folded fabric and towers of painted ceramic cups.
You stop before the laid out array of more necklaces and earrings, scanning the ground. The vendor looks up and gives you a big, crooked toothed smile, urging you to come forward, to take a look at what she has to offer.
Something does catch your eye, and you immediately crouch down to see it better. Picking up the necklace from the charm, you let the gold and red rest on your fingers as you study the make.
“That one’s new,” the woman says. “Practical too.”
The small brass letter opener that’s looped through the cord looks like it could do its job just fine despite its miniscule size.
“It’s quite popular among the busy merchants,” the vendor speaks in a rough tone, almost like she had a perpetual sore throat. “Easier to use this instead of looking for those bulky ones in their neverending drawers and—and in their cabinets.”
She lets out a laugh, “Quite pretty too.”
You stare at it for a moment, “How much?”
“Ten coin.”
You sigh, setting the necklace back down onto the cloth. Standing straight, you turn to walk away before she yells again.
“I’ll do seven!”
You consider whether you should speak, but you also doubt you’d be recognized just by the sound of your voice.
"I don’t have coin,” you rasp.
“How about that pretty thing on your finger then?” she asks.
The ring on your middle finger is a simple band of silver, a coming of age present from your father’s court a few years ago. You stare at the band, worth boatloads more than what this woman in an alley was offering you.
But you find yourself moments later, middle finger empty, and pocket lined with the long leather necklace with the miniature letter opener charm.
By the time you return to the blacksmith’s shop front, Chan is handing the man his coin as Hoshi holds an object sheathed in fabric. They turn around just soon enough to make it seem like you never left.
“Why are you standing so far away?” Chan asks. “Come closer.”
You listen, moving closer to the both of them as they get ready to make the trek back to the docks where the ship waits.
“The crates have probably been loaded too,” Hoshi says, his hands suddenly empty. You assume he’s pocketed the knife somewhere. “Let’s hurry and leave before—”
“Princess?”
It was your mistake that you turned around to acknowledge the title, something you realise as soon as you register the man that spoke to you.
Henley was a stout man, dressed even now in the finest suit of a berry colour, hair white as a ghost. There was no reason for a merchant so rich he had ties with the royal family to be wandering in a harbour market, but he also had every reason to be here.
If it was the recognition in your eyes, or the fact that they were just being smart, you feel one of the pirates wrap their fingers around your upper arm and pull you to walk away from the alley.
“Princess!” Henley yells and you cringe at his volume. People are looking now, and you briefly wonder why you aren’t running yet.
Your heart is pounding against your chest so hard it’s deafening any other sound in your ears, you still don’t know which one has a hold of you, but you let them guide you into a speed walk as you exit the narrow alleys of the main market.
The shawl above your head is pushed further down, shielding your face in a shadow. There’s nothing in your mind other than Clarence Henley and his rich suit, his gold pocket watch, his trimmed, white hair. His face that you only ever saw within palace walls, always accompanied by your father.
There’s a good chance you’re shaking, because you can feel your body rejecting it with the pain in your palms that you can only consider to be your own nails pressing into your hand.
The stench of the fish market helps, bringing you back from your daze as you finally register the ground beneath your feet. It’s only a few more minutes till you reach the docks and you’re suddenly being pushed up the ramp that leads to the main deck of the ship.
It’s immediate comfort, the familiar brown of the floorboards, the scent of saltwater and warping sounds of the sails. You’re led to your quarters, where you finally let the makeshift hood and cape fall.
“Are you alright?”
Snapping your head up, you’re met with Seungkwan and his concerned gaze.
“Oh, erm.” Your voice sounds…not like your own.
“It’s okay, breathe.” It helps, because it really did feel like you’d forgotten to breathe.
“We’re leaving in just a few, everything’s been loaded. Nobody followed you on board, don’t worry.”
Right. You were on the ship, you were in your quarters with some of the most feared pirates on the seas.
The way Seungkwan is easing you through your gulps of water suggests legends in the mix, but you appreciate it regardless.
When you’ve come round, feeling more like yourself, the ship has already left Hasry Harbour, sailing into the deeper waters of the ocean.
“Captain said they couldn’t run because it just would’ve been more suspicious,” Seungkwan informs you as you nod. “Did you…did you recognise him? The man at the market.”
The thoughts come flooding back, the colour of his suit, the jarring nature of a man of such wealth standing in a rundown port market.
“He’s a merchant, one of the wealthiest. A friend of my father’s. If he even has any friends.”
You pause as you think about the near blackout you’d had, the way the panic more than boiled over, taking over your senses and your rationality.
“I think…” you trail off. “I think I just felt like it was the end. I finally had an opportunity to get rid of that tyrant and seeing something that was from home, felt…it felt like I was going to end up right back where I started.”
Seungkwan doesn’t say a word as you digest your own words, accepting your own fear that had rendered you useless in the time it probably mattered most.
“Do you feel better now?”
“A little,” you answer.
“Maybe a weapon can help.”
At the door stands Hoshi, a stern expression on his face as he looks directly at you on the bed. In his hands, the same fabric covered knife he acquired at the market.
You know that you asked for this, but the jolt in your stomach still makes itself known.
“He’s right,” Seungkwan says, lifting from his chair. “Blades have a way of calming you in any case.”
You note the glinting hilt of Seungkwan’s sword sheathed at his hip, remember Hoshi’s own daggers that he seems to be emotionally attached to.
Lifting your head back to Hoshi, you ask, “Can we start now?”
He smirks.
ALL NIGHT, THE STUPID pirate captain had you taking swings at the air.
“Your opponent’s baked a fruit cake by the time you were done with that swing,” he comments, continuously unhelpful. “Swing faster.”
It’s nighttime, nothing but a few oil lamps on the floor of the deck keeping you and Hoshi in the light. Your shoulder burns, your forearms are liquid, and your non-existent opponent remains forever stronger than you.
“I’m done,” you huff, thoroughly spent. Crumbling to the floor, you bring your non-dominant hand up to your aching shoulder in an attempt to massage it.
It’s been a while, the moon high up in the sky when you finally decide to quit it for the night. He lets you go without a fight, and you doubt you’d have the energy to if he decided to do it anyway.
The following day, he’s tweaked his regiment a little, and you find that you’re finally swinging at something tangible; him.
He leaves himself open, an invitation to strike wherever you want. You feign for his shoulder, but he sees you coming from a mile away, already deflecting your flattened blade that comes for his thigh.
“Don’t look where you want to strike, you’re giving yourself away.”
Furrowing your brows, you dislodge your knife from his own and back away again. He’s immediately cocking a brow, telling you to come at him again. You go for his middle, slashing your knife in an arc as he simply deflects.
“Come on, find a pace,” he grunts.
Coming down with your knife again, he blocks you but this time with his forearm, pushing you back by the wrists. It was a battle of strength, as he forces your wrists down. He was stronger than you, and there was no way you could push away, so you dispel your own force. He stumbles from the sudden forward force, and you pull away to take a swing from above.
He recovers faster than you thought he would, already coming up when you’re ready to swing. He raises a hand to deflect, half a moment too late as your blade slashes across the heel of his hand.
There’s a brief splash of red against the blue backdrop of the sky, and you gasp on instinct, immediately moving away.
There’s an apology ready on your lips, mouth gaping as you watch him inspect the wound. You don’t get to say anything because he beats you to it.
“Deep enough,” he comments, like he was inspecting a painting. “Keep this up and you might actually be good by the end of the week.”
Oh.
“Alright,” he says again, moving back into position.
“Are you gonna wrap that?” you ask, referring to the bloody hand.
“It’s fine, I’ve fought with worse,” he says.
You blink as you reluctantly get back into position, bracing yourself as you continue to look at his hand dripping blood onto the deck.
“You’re getting the hang of pacing, but you need to start considering your blade as an extension of yourself—JESUS!”
You’ve swung at him faster than you ever have, putting everything into that single tug of your knife. He wasn’t expecting it, still talking over your glances at his palm. He had his guard down, and you took the chance. He ducks on instinct, but it could’ve been another scar for him to remember if you’d made it.
You stumble as he circles you to the other end, flattening his blade on your back.
“Nice try,” he says. “Really nice try. But you never turn your back to your opponent.”
“I lost my footing,” you defend, but even you knew that wasn’t an excuse.
“And I just stabbed you in the back. And now I’ll have to present your corpse to your father and hope he’ll accept it and give me my ship. We all lose.”
The pressure of the blade leaves your back and you're suddenly left looking stupid despite doing something somewhat right.
“You’d just swindle another poor sailor off his boat and move on,” you say. “You’re a slippery thing.”
He has a smile on his face that borders a smirk yet is innocently mischievous enough. It’s a strange sight, bloody hand, relaxed face. There’s a clean-ish rag on a nearby closed barrel that he uses to wipe the excess blood off his hands.
“I keep going because I live without regret.”
You can only roll your eyes as a scoff leaves your mouth before you can stop it. You simply turn around, settling to the floor, going back to massaging your still aching shoulder. That last blow only made it worse.
“I don’t regret things, miss princess. Ask me why.”
You remain silent.
“Come on,” he urges, that silly smile remaining on his face. He’s washing the wound now with freshwater from the barrel.
Sighing, you ask him, “Why?”
“Because I don’t ever do things I’d regret.”
“That insinuates you think before you act.”
“Right-O,” he declares, wrapping another torn cloth on his cleaned wound.
“Funny,” you answer. “Because I dont think I’ve ever seen any hint of light behind your eyes.”
He turns around to you, sheathing his dagger at his hip, a dangerous look in his eye.
“You’ve looked into my eyes?”
The clench in your jaw must have been visible, or the look of disgust on your face might’ve been apparent just the same, because the pirate captain simply laughs out loud before retreating towards the stairs to go below deck.
“I’ll send Jun up, practise with him.”
You wanted to send your knife, point first, hurtling into his retreating form.
Never turn your back to your opponent, my ass.
But you don’t, mostly because he’d probably manage to deflect that too. So you resort to sitting cross legged on the deck, staring at your dagger while waiting for Jun to meet you upstairs.
Hoshi said he picked the knife based on a number of things you’d already forgotten, something about carbon steel and having a good grip. It’s quite pretty, you’ll have to admit. It’s plain silver, but the reflection it makes in the sun makes it difficult to look away. You’d gotten used to the handle and how it fit in your palm, Hoshi assured you that the more you used it, the more the hilt would mould into your grip.
Jun stomps onto the deck, revolver-less and instead equipped with an array of knives that he deposits on the deck.
“Should’ve picked a plain old gun,” he grumbles as he holds one of the longer blades in his hand. “Job’s done and you don’t need to get within ten feet.”
“Don’t have to reload a knife, do I?” you comment, taking the first swing.
Jun may have an affinity for guns and explosives, but his handling with a knife was still nothing below an expert level. He pushes your arm off before spending you into a ballroom spin, flatting his blade at your collarbone.
That could’ve been your throat.
“No, but by now I could’ve shot you, thrown you overboard, and been on my way to a nap,” he says in your ear, before releasing you as you get back into position again.
That could’ve been your throat.
THE FOLLOWING WEEK PASSES with your days and nights muddled into a strange mixture of swinging knives and taking breaks slumped against the deck of the ship, unmoving.
It’s a particularly hot day, the giant glowing orb beating down on the deck with no mercy. Not that it stops you, because the sun remains unwavering, high in the sky, and you remain unwavering in your wide legged stances as you lunge for Chan again.
Chan’s entire being glistens in the afternoon light, the beads of sweat that he wipes off his forehead only seem to reappear every couple minutes. His clothes cling to him like a second skin, taking long breaths through his teeth amidst the difficult, humid air.
You don’t doubt you look the same, one hand in your hair suggesting you just took a bath in your own sweat. But Chan seems accustomed to the heat, and while you weren’t, you couldn’t deny your growing comfortability with it all.
It’d been a while since your meal, hence your sluggish movements were slowly turning increasingly sharp, having cornered Chan multiple times in the duration. You’re determined to not be the one to call for a time out, so you find yourself pushing beyond what you’ve been doing for the past week or so.
There’s a particular punch of heat at your sides, and you can feel yourself slowing.
One deep breath, a slow exhale.
It’s all clangs and reflections of knives, tiny droplets of blood as evidence of both of your tiny, unintentional nicks and cuts. You’re succeeding, pushing the man further and further back.
“You’re getting sloppy, aim for the blade not my tendons,” Chan seethes through his teeth.
“I’m trying,” you grunt through the effort.
You’re set back for a couple minutes before you go back to pushing. Your lungs burn, your entire side is numb from exertion, but you give more than your body is made for, and you succeed—kind of.
Chan back is against the railing of the deck before he realises it, and perhaps it was momentum, or sheer exhaustion, because one minute you’ve got eyes on Chan’s hands and his blade, and the next he’s gone. There’s a loud splash, and you suddenly realise what you’ve done.
You just pushed Chan overboard.
You scream before you can help it, dropping your knife with a loud, resonating clang. Pushing against the rails, you peer down to find a giant ripple on the surface of the ocean, whipping your head around to the stairs leading below deck to find Mingyu and Hoshi bounding upstairs.
“What? Where’s Chan, he was supposed to be with you,” Hoshi asks, whipping his head around the deck.
Your wide eyed, horrified response from near the edge tells them all they need to know.
By the time Chan’s pulled himself on board, soaked and dripping like a wet poodle, you’ve sat yourself the furthest away from the railing to prevent any more trouble. He drops onto the floor, creating a human sized puddle.
With the way the two men had merely sighed and threw the ladder over the exterior of the ship, you concluded that this must happen enough for them to be beyond the point of concern. It only adds to it when you see Mingyu nudge Chan’s unmoving but heaving body with the toe of his boot, giggling at his expense.
You make your way over, crouching beside Chan sheepishly.
“Sorry about that, got carried away.”
He’s sitting up now, quickly pulling himself back to his feet and you spring back from your crouched position.
“It’s fine, happens.” He has a small smile on his face as he says it and you conclude that he may find the situation laughable as well.
“Now, Chan,” Hoshi says, not letting Chan move into the deck any further from the railing. “What’s the first thing you learn about brawling on a ship?”
Chan looks slightly embarrassed as he answers, “Be aware of your surrounding—ARGH.”
Hoshi pushed him into the water.
You jump as you run back to the rails, watching as Chan’s head re-emerges at the surface after his second dip in the ocean.
Just as you’re about to say something to Hoshi, he’s stuck his head over the railings as well, yelling at Chan in some singsong voice.
“One time was a mistake, twice is a problem!”
To your left, only adding to your horror, is Mingyu doubled over in his fit of laughter, heaving as he giggled uncontrollably. He’s also holding onto the railings for dear life, but clearly, for reasons completely different from yours.
The situation resolves itself as both you and Chan learn a few lessons of practicality. Deciding you’ve done enough damage to your body, you announce that you’d be retiring for the day.
“Thank goodness, I was about to confiscate that stupid knife, I’ve been hearing clanging in my sleep,” Mingyu mumbles as he pulls the rope ladder back up to the deck.
In any case, you have the urge to take a dip in the ocean yourself, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your drying sweat.
Grabbing a clean washcloth, you fill a bucket of freshwater from one of the barrels on deck and lug it into your quarters. The soaked washcloth does wonders for your overheated body, feeling enormously better after a change of clothes.
Your scalp, however, remains itchy and burning, so you decide to go back up to the main deck, hoping to manoeuvre a hair wash situation without needing to mop the floors of your quarters.
Refilling the bucket of freshwater, you set it down before scanning the empty deck for another spare bucket. You try not to scoff at the unwavering determination of the pirate crew to keep the deck unoccupied for such long increments, that last altercation teaching them absolutely nothing. You wonder how they’ve managed to survive for so long like this.
Shaking the thought, you use the spare bucket as a way to deposit your waste water as you pour cups of clean water over your aching scalp. The feeling does wonders for you, letting the water wash away weeks worth of grime, sweat and stress.
You’re almost back home in your quarters when the whiff of your hair salts hits your nose, the ones you’d packed for yourself, closing your eyes for a moment as you rub them into your scalp. You don't expect the clench that seizes your chest, but you falter when it happens anyway.
It’s nostalgic, and you hate it.
It smells like the palace, like the incense your ladies in waiting always burned, the stench of citrus having made its way into your bones from the years of exposure to the scent. It’s too much as you blink back tears, owing them to the suds that have made their way into your eyes.
The sting helps bring you back, opening your eyes to an orange glow and the waft of seasalt hitting your nose. You’re more aggressive when you dunk your cup into the bucket this time, too aggressive as you feel the half full bucket tip over and spill water all over the deck as you cause yet another accident.
Cursing loudly, you try to blink away the suds from your eyes, soap still in your hair as you try to figure out how to get another bucket of water without ruining your fresh change of clothes, mentally kicking yourself at not thinking this through.
“You realise we have to make do with that freshwater till we make it to Ash?”
Wet hair still in your hands, you attempt to peer up at the voice, only to find Hoshi standing above you, arms crossed over his chest with a funny expression on his face. Huffing, you grumble out in response, “Can you just get me a fresh bucket?”
“Hm, I don’t know, can I?” He removes his gaze and begins to pretend looking over at the horizon and the setting sun.
Chiding yourself for even bothering to ask, you reach for the tipped bucket yourself, deciding you’d figure it out yourself if this dumb pirate was choosing to be of no help. But before you could latch your fingers on the handle, the bucket’s snatched away.
At first you think he’s being funny, taking the bucket away to watch you struggle even further. “You—”
Except you watch him as he dunks the bucket back into the barrel of freshwater, lugging it back to where you could reach. “Try not to paint the deck with it this time, I’ve already mopped twice.”
The thank you freezes on your tongue, and for some reason you can’t say it to him. So you make a scene of splashing into the bucket with vigour, sending spills over the rim and taking mild satisfaction in hearing him sigh at the sight of more mopping.
He’s already gotten hold of the worn mop by the time you’re done as you remerge with clean hair, wringing your own mop of hair to deposit the excess water. Straightening out your back, you take hold of the spare cloth you brought along with you, patting your hair with it.
The sun remains in its mission to cast its golden glow, but only illuminates Hoshi’s grumbling form as he mops up all the water you’ve spilled.
“You know, I should really be making you—” He halts as he makes eye contact with you, your hands still occupied with patting your hair dry, flicking the wet strands. You have a rebuttal already prepared, waiting for him to finish his jab.
“Make me what? you grind.
You can’t make out the look on his face, somewhere between constipated and on the edge of a yelp, he keeps staring at you. You note a slight trickle of water making its way down your neck and chest, bleeding into your shirt as yet another water stain.
“Nothing,” he says, to your surprise.
And with that uneventful climax, you trudge back down to your quarters, a strange brewing in your chest.
[AN]: congrats you made it to the end of part 1!!!!! reblog ur thots and opinions or send me an ask, id love to hear the turmoil in ur minds lol
#svthub#hoshi fluff#hoshi smut#hoshi angst#hoshi fic#hoshi imagines#hoshi x reader#hoshi#soonyoung smut#soonyoung fluff#soonyoung scenarios#soonyoung imagines#soonyoung x reader#seventeen#soonyoung#seventeen flluff#seventeen smut#seventeen angst#seventeen fic recs#svt#svt smut#svt fluff#svt imagines#svt scenarios#svt x reader#em.writes
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jacaerys x bethrothed!reader - grief
a.n: felt so sick after seeing the new still i needed to write smth
You were pacing in front of the door waiting for him to walk in. You had seen vermax fly over and knew he was finally back. It had been so long since you last saw him you had no clue how you were even going to react when you did.
You had no clue how he was going to react. You had not see him since he flew away from dragonstone, not before he had given you a kiss and smile promising to return shortly.
The doors suddenly hope and he walks him. The first thing you notice about him was his hair, and then you notice the confused look on his face as he glances at you then at the room full of people who look at him with pity.
“What has happened?”
It should be one of them to break the news to him, his mother or even his father but the two of them seem too distracted in their grief they were not even here to greet him.
You walk over to him and wrap you arms around him in a tight hug, he does not reciprocate it as he whispers to you asking you what has happened. You feel the way he stiffens when one of the maesters begins to speak and informs him. You pull back and stay at his side as he stares wide eyed at him, tears already glossing over his eyes. “What happened?”
You watch as he loses his composure the more and more the maester speaks. The way his breath quickens and his eyes only grow with tears. He turns away, breathing heavily out of his mouth as he grips his necklace tightly in his hands. You know being in this room with all these people is not good for him.
“All of you should leave.” You stare at the room and they all seem frozen, “GET OUT!” the room all quickly shuffles around and everyone dashes from the room. You turn your attention back to jacaerys who has bend over slightly, attempting to reach out to him but he quickly slaps your hands away.
“jace-” “It is my fault.” You shake your head though he can not see it and feel yourself also getting chocked up. “You know that is not true.”
He shakes his head and attempts to walk away from you but he stumbles and bit, you got to try and help him but he pushes you away from him. “There is nobody else to blame but me! if i had not been so foolish, to blinded i,,” He cannot continue to speak as tears continue to run down his face, the grip he has on his necklace tightens until he turns to one of the walls and lets out a loud shout as he rips it off his next and chucks it against the wall.
You quickly rush to his side as he falls to his knees and clutches his chest, when he tries to push you away this time his hands are weaker and you ignore him wrapping your arms around him. He leans against you as he sobs, his body violently shaking, his eyes tightly shut as he heaves into you chest, you can feel the tears soaking into your dress.
You rub his arms up and down and lightly rock back and forth, your own tears flow up to your eyes but you cant try now, not as you try to comfort him the best you can. You lean your mouth next to his ear and press a kiss to his temple. “It is nobody else fault other then aemonds arrogance and borros’ greed. It is not your fault my love.”
Your fingers comb your his curls as he slowly begins to settle down a little bit. You don’t know how long the two of you are sitting there on the floor, you do not care the way yours knees ache or the way your dress clings uncomfortably to your skin all that matters to you now is comforting him.
“Should we go see your mother?” He shakes his head and presses against you tightly. “How can i bare to look at her?”
“She needs you jace, just as you need her.” With your words he nods and you help him stand, he clings to you as you two walk through the empty hallways to his mothers chambers.
Before he opens the door he turns to you once more and you can see he’s clearly attempting to let out a smile but his face only contorts oddly before he sighs, “Thank you.”
You nod and give him your best smile as he turns and opens the door, shutting it quickly behind him. You walk away, fearing if you were even too close you’d be intruding on their intimate grieving time.
You finally allow yourself to cry once you enter the hall once more, walking over to the walk and picking up the pieces of his necklace in your hand, it didn't look unfixable, with some work you could repair it just as you’re sure he will be able to repair himself after this.
--
perm jace taglist <3
@tyronesien @itsbookworm987 @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons
#house of the dragon#hotd#hotd imagine#jacaerys targaryen x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys strong#prince jacaerys#jacaerys targaryen#jacaerys velaryon#hotd jacaerys#jacaerys x reader#jace x you#jace velaryon#jace targaryen#jace x reader#hotd fanfic#hotd x reader#hotd x y/n#house of the dragon fanfiction#house of the dragon fanfic#house targaryen#jacaerys
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I Don't Think I Can Walk
kerstin casparij x reader
warnings: 18+ smut
word count: 1200
proof read: sort of? not really
summary: Kerstin makes you squirt for the first time.
a/n: hi! I haven't posted in a while and this has been in my drafts for a bit, so I thought why not post it.
anyways, I have been working on the requests that have been sent through, but I have hit a little bit of writers' block so I'm not sure when they're going to be posted (they will be at some point). but here's a Kerstin smut for everyone in the meantime! (the end is alittle rushed not gonna lie).
You through your head back, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt her tongue run through your folds again. You tried to shut your thighs, trying to push her head away from your aching core, feeling too sensitive from the two previous orgasm she’d already given you. She wasn't having it though, pushing herself closer to you, latching on to your puffy clit.
“Fuck Kerstin!” you moaned, hips snapping upwards into her face.
“Yeah baby” she said pulling away slightly, her lips glistening with your juices, her calloused finger moving to rub soft circles on your abused bud.
“I can't-” you gasped out, fingers grasping tightly at the sheets “too much”.
“Oh, my poor baby” she removed her fingers from you, crawling up from the space between your legs, kissing away the trail of tears that began to fall from your eyes.
“You can give me one more, can't you baby?” she said, her lips finding their way to your own, kissing you passionately. She pushed her Tongue into your mouth, swirling it around with your own before you softly sucked on it, tasting yourself. She pulled away, eyes searching for your own, her hand coming up to stroke your face.
“See how good you taste baby?” she leaned down to kiss your neck, smirking slightly as you let out a small moan when she sucked particularly hard at your sweet spot.
“Wanna taste you again” she voiced, her body leaving a trail of kisses along your body as she made her way down to her original position between your thighs, kissing the plush skin before looking up at you.
“Are you gonna let me baby?” she questioned her hands slowly inching closer to your core. “You gonna let me taste you again?” her hand reached your core making you gasp, her fingers gliding over your hole, finding the new arousal that had gathered there.
She looked up at you again, seaching your eyes for an answer. She looked so beautiful between your legs, eyes blown, your wetness covering lips and her hair sticking to her forehead, sure you found her beautiful all the time but moments like this had to be one of your favorites.
“You still with me, pretty girl?” You were brought out of your daydreams by her soft voice and the slight tap to your left thigh. You nodded at her, bring your hand to your mouth, biting on the delicta skin around your nails.
“Whatcha thinking about love?” she said, tracing soothing patterns along the marks shed left of your thighs.
“you” you replied honestly making her chuckle slightly.
“Do you want this?” she asked, waiting for your consent before she went any further.
You nodded your head at her again, watching her shake her head in reply, opening her mouth up to speak again.
“I need you to use your word for me baby, do you want this?” she asked again, pleased this time as you let out a verbal answer.
“Yes, I want you Kerstin” she smiled at you, placing one last kiss to both your thighs.
“there's my good girl” she said before diving in.
You moaned at the praise, hands quickly coming down to tangle in her hair, pushing her further into you as she lapped at your cunt. She moved her mouth upwards, taking in your clit and sucking harshly, moaning when you tugged her hair after.
You felt that familiar coil in your stomach start to grow as she continued to eat you out like a starved woman, switching between flicking and sucking at your clit.
“Mm, fuck! K-Kerstin" you through your head back, arching your back as she slipped two fingers inside of you, moving them at a fast pace while she lapped at your clit.
“You doin so good for me baby” she mumbled into your throbbing bud, sending vibration through your core. You moaned loudly, untangling your fingers from her head, reaching out in search for her other hand. She grabbed your lacing your fingers together.
She looked up at you, watching the way your chest rose and fell with each jagged breath, the way your stomach began to tighten, she knew you were close.
“You close baby?” she said, pulling away from you slightly, curling her fingers into you, smirking when she watched your back arch up when she hit that spot inside you. “You gonna cum for me love? Gonna make a mess on my fingers f’me” she breathed out, quickly going back to sucking at your clit.
“Yes, I'm so clo- please don't stop baby” you replied, rutting your cunt into her face, trying to gain for friction. You could feel the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter, your legs begging to tremble.
“Come for me baby”
That was all you needed to hear, your thighs clamped around her head as white-hot flashes of pleasure ran up your spine and through your body, moaning her name loudly as you came. Kerstin's fingers struggling to move as your pussy tightened around her, eyes stuck on your core, watching with a cocky smirk as liquid squired out of your sensitive cunt, soaking her hand and the bed sheets.
Your legs began to tremble as Kerstin continued to fuck you through your third orgasm of the morning, the feeling quickly becoming too much as your orgasm died down, the feeling over overstimulation kicking in.
“Too much baby” you said while grabbing her wrist. A groan left your mouth as she pulled her fingers out of you, moving them up to her mouth and sucking them clean.
“You taste she good baby, did so well for me” she crawled her way up to you, laying down on the other side of the bed and pulling you into her side.
“You made me feel so fucking good” you said into her neck, kissing the skin softly.
She chuckled at that, pecking the top of your head whilst tracing patterns along your hip.
“I should hope so, you fuckin squirted baby”
You shot up at that, looking down at the large wet patch that sat in the middle of the sheets. Your face heated up in embarrassment, eyes shutting before you mumbled an apology towards your girlfriend.
“Sorry, I don-” you paused “I've never done that before” you looked down, fiddling with your fingers.
“Hey, none of that okay” she grabbed your face, Turing you to meet her eyes “It was so fucking hot baby” she was quick to reassure you, pulling your body back into hers.
“But what about the sheets” you said, looking up at her.
“We can change them, I have more” she looked in your eyes “you did so well more me love” she pulled you in for a kiss, gentler than the others that were shared between the two of you this morning.
“Come on let’s get your cleaned up, we’ve got to be at training in an hour” she pulled away, getting out of bed and walking towards your shared bathroom.
“Babe!” you called out, stopping her in her tracks as she turned to look at you, raising her eyebrow at you.
“I don't think I can walk”
#woso#woso community#woso fanfics#woso imagine#wsl#kerstin casparij#kerstin casparij x reader#kerstin casparij imagine#manchester city#wlw#womens football
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Can I Be Him — A Pazzi Fic
Wherein Paige Bueckers, UConn’s prolific point guard, has been in love with Azzi Fudd, her longtime best friend and current teammate for the longest time. The persistence in scouting the girl to the huskies was not for nothing. But of course, Paige kept this fact to herself. Yet, even after all these years, behind the basketball star’s confident and cocky-like attitude, lies insecurities for seemingly not being enough for Azzi.
Azzi constantly reminding Paige of the reality that she may never have feelings for the girl the same way the girl has for her when she repeatedly talks to Paige about her boy problems, deflates the latter’s self-esteem, while Azzi remains unaware.
With the next season around the corner and Paige’s newfound courage to move on from Azzi, what would become of their relationship?
CHAPTER 2.
word count: 1548
Chapter 1
“You have got to stop pacing around, Az. If it’s not making you dizzy, it definitely is making me.” Ice annoyingly tells off Azzi and goes back to munching on her popcorn while watching a TV show from the bed.
Azzi flops herself back first on the bed, covers her face with both hands and screams.
Ice flinches causing some of her popcorn to fall to the bed, “Girl what is wrong with you?!”
The girl gets back up and goes back to pacing, earning a ‘what the fuck’ look from her roommate who is considering calling 911 at the sight she’s currently witnessing.
“I messed up. I messed up. I messed up. I messe–” Azzi chanted while pacing before being held and stopped by Ice who was forced to now stand alongside her if she wanted her much wanted peace and quiet.
“What did you do?” Ice sternly asks her as if she was an interrogator trying to get the truth out from a criminal, which in this case was Azzi.
“I swear I didn’t mean to do it–” Azzi found herself avoiding the topic altogether.
Ice grew impatient, tightening her grip on Azzi’s arms, “Spill or none of us are gonna shit done here.”
It was Azzi’s turn to hold on to Ice’s arms as if it was a call for help, “I called Paige stupid and reckless.”
The two stayed in the same position for quite some time while keeping their eye contact intact.
A laugh from Ice breaks the silence between them and Azzi whines, “Ice, this is not funny!”
“It might not be for you but it for sure is for me.” Ice’s laughter grows louder as she further thinks about the situation.
Ice’s laughter fades slowly as she lets out a question, “Were the insults justified at least? To be fair knowing Paige, she can definitely be stupid and reckless sometimes.”
Azzi stomps her feet in regret as she recalls what she did, “That’s the thing, Ice. I think I definitely went too far with what I said.”
“Alright alright, let’s sit down first and get the whole picture. For sure you had your reasons. Now, tell me. What happened that led up to you saying those words to Paige?” Ice sits down and taps on the bed, signaling Azzi to sit down with her.
Ice knew Azzi had the tendency to be extremely sensitive to the people around her, making her confused as to why the girl could have uttered such insensitive words to someone, let alone to her best friend Paige.
Heck, at times when opponents would say even the slightest dirt to the girl, Azzi would take it personal, as if she was the one talked trash to, immediately doing her best to distract Paige. Usually it didn’t take much for Azzi to get Paige to smile. Paige needed as little as Azzi looking at her with concern to make her smile from ear to ear.
Something didn’t add up. Seeing how stressed Azzi currently is, Ice knew there was more than meets the eye and she was determined to get whatever this is out of Azzi’s system.
Azzi was hesitant and Ice realized this, caressing the girl’s shoulder as a means of assurance that whatever is said in the room stays in the room, getting her trust and getting her to finally talk, “I don’t know what got to me. I saw Nika and Paige playing King of The Court. Even by then I was already pissed at Paige and I don’t even know why myself. My anger elevated the moment Nika got hurt. Then I saw Paige taking care of Nika. Then the words just slipped out my mouth and I just…” Azzi covered her face with her hands once again but this time in relief that she finally got that out her chest.
“So let me get this straight…” Even though there was nothing straight about what Azzi just told her. Ice thought. “Nika and Paige were just playing King of The Court, you were mad at Paige for no apparent reason. When Nika got hurt and you saw Paige taking care of her you got even more angry and let your emotions talk. Am I right?”
Azzi nodded, now looking at Ice with puppy eyes, desperately looking for advice.
“Yeah, uhm. Have you maybe thought of the fact that you could be jealous of Paige being with Nika?” Ice suggests, eliciting quite a violent reaction from Azzi.
“What?! That’s insane! Why would I be?!” Ms. Curly Hair becomes defensive.
“Hey hey, calm down. When I say you’re jealous, I don’t mean romantically. Maybe you could be jealous your best friend is caring for someone other than you. You know, the platonic kind of jealousy.” Ice explains herself, earning an “oh” from Azzi.
“Unless…” Ice teased. It obviously worked on Azzi as she playfully hits Ice’s arm.
Azzi stands up with an enlightened face, realizing Ice is probably right. She rushes out the room, eager to fix things between her and Paige, “Thank you, Ice! I owe you one big time! Love you!”
Ice shakes her head and sighs, “At this rate they’re gonna hurt each other immensely before realizing.”
Azzi had no idea where Paige currently was. The girl had gone radio silent. Not a single annoying text and random call popped up from the blonde on Azzi’s phone. But despite this, she thinks she knows her best friend enough to trust her instincts. Paige, when not preoccupied in bothering Azzi, always turned to basketball. She’s also had enough fights with Paige to know she beats herself up with practice right after their fights.
Azzi’s guess was proven right while she was walking down the UCONN gym hallways. The sound she heard coming from a single person’s shoes was enough to confirm it. She knew Paige doesn’t like practicing with other people when she was getting her personal practices in. Of course team practices were a different story. Maybe that’s why the sight of Nika practicing with Paige a while ago bothered Azzi? She brushes this thought away and proceeds to enter the indoor court.
A sweaty and out of breath Paige is what Azzi met the second she entered. But despite Paige looking like she just finished a triathlon, the UConn point guard still showed no signs of stopping. The girl was doing everything. Shooting from everywhere on the court, grabbing her own rebounds, then running up and down the court whenever she failed to make a shot.
Paige was so locked in she didn’t even notice Azzi’s presence on the court and Azzi couldn’t help but feel even more guilty as she recalled a memory of her and high school Paige.
“Why are you so worked up in these personal practices of yours for the past few weeks?” High school Azzi innocently asks the hard-working senior from Hopkins.
Paige looked at her with a vulnerable expression, something only reserved for Azzi, “If I can’t get you to commit to UConn, that must mean I’m not good enough as a player for you to trust me.”
Azzi connects the dots, “So you’re working extra hard so you’ll earn my trust and hopefully play for UConn?”
“I care about what you think.” Paige sincerely says in a soft tone, making Azzi’s heart beat slightly faster, “So if me being good enough is what it takes to earn your trust, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”
So if me being good enough is what it takes to earn your trust, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. Paige’s words repeat in Azzi’s mind like a tape loop, affecting her after seeing Paige go back to doubting her capabilities because of her.
Azzi slowly makes her way near Paige who was currently attempting a three from the top of the key. Paige’s shot attempt clanked at the rim and went straight to Azzi’s direction, forcing her to catch the ball.
As Paige turned around to try and retrieve the ball, she was met with the shorter, curly haired girl, and brown eyed girl she was so desperately trying to run away from, mentally and physically.
“You’re doing it again.” Azzi worriedly says, receiving a weak chuckle from Paige.
“In a heartbeat.” Paige gets closer and Azzi swears she stopped breathing the moment the first step was made.
“I’m sorry.” Azzi apologizes, waiting for Paige’s reaction or response, but once she said those two words, Paige stopped getting closer.
“If that’s all, you can go now. I’ve already forgiven you since you said those words.” Paige says, slowly grabbing the ball from Azzi’s hands.
Azzi feels a pang in her chest when Paige seemingly wants to scoot her away, “You know you can just say you want me to stay away from you, Paige.”
“But I don’t, Azzi.” Paige says, “I don’t want you to leave me here but I’m assuming you’re the one who doesn’t want to see me and is just forcing yourself to apologize to me and I just don’t know what to do–” She addedly rambled but then gets cut off by Azzi suddenly hugging her.
“I fucked up, P.” Azzi tightens her embrace around the older girl, “Let me make it up to you.”
a/n: here's chapter two for everyone! hopefully the pacing and understandability's still alright by this point. suggestions and feedbacks are highly appreciated. please do know that english is not my first language and the chapters are mostly not proofread, so any part of the story that may need revisions, kindly tell me. thank you! hoping everyone's having a great day so far! much love. <3
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Dirty Plan || Joel Miller 4 f!reader
+18
Summary: Joel Miller has to meet with the architect for the renovation plan, but this turns out to be his best friend's daughter.
Warnings: Age gap {reader is 22/Joel is 52}, explicit sexual content, mature themes, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slightly dom Joel, submissive reader, implied sex, dirty talk, p in v, p in a.
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Joel is in front of the building to be renovated. Tommy is busy and Joel will meet with the architect alone to view the renovation project.
He's been waiting for 20 minutes already, but not even the shadow of the guy. His friend Kevin had assured him that he would be smart. He has known Kevin for over 20 years and trusts him.
“Kevin, can you give me the number of the person I need to meet? He's late and I can't wait all day!" Joel calls him nervously.
'I contact her right away, Jenny was almost there when I heard her before,' she hangs up.
Jenny?? Jennifer? His daughter? Joel saw her grow up, but had no idea she was already working, she's just 22 years old.
She feels a little embarrassed and comes in to wait for her. It has a table in the centre of the room to support the designs of the structure. He starts analysing them, when he hears a knock on the door.
He goes to open and you appear with two coffee mugs in your hand and a folder under your arm.
“Hi Joel!” you say, kissing him on the cheek and giving him one of the coffees. 'This is to make me forgive for the delay, they kept me in the office.'
Joel looks at you from head to toe, you have become a woman, despite your young age you are very attractive. He takes a sip and hints with his head.
You head to the table where Joel was working on the projects before.
'I didn't know you were already an architect, congratulations,' Joel says, taking another sip of coffee.
“There are a lot of things you don't know about me now. We haven't seen each other for how long? Three years?”, you approach, almost provocative. Then you give him your back and start distributing your drawings on the table, bending forward.
Joel's gaze glides over that tall, hard ass, barely covered by a black sheathed miniskirt, down to the legs and heeled shoes. From the silk blouse he can see the white lace bra.
Joel swallows, but tries to focus on the drawings.
“Here you see? Here the fireplace must come, here instead the masonry kitchen”.
You start explaining it all, but Joel's mind focusses on your body and breasts, covered just because one of the mother-of-pearl buttons has opened.
Joel squeezes his temples with his index finger and thumb and squints. When he opens them he finds himself in front of you, your face a palm away from his.
“Joel are you feeling well?” You put a hand on his chest. Your warm and delicate touch only ignites man's desire more.
Joel is a calm man, but he knows how to be passionate in certain situations. For a few months he has been married to Tess, in fact you notice the white gold wedding ring on the ring finger.
“Wow and this when?” Ask for surprise.
“A few months ago,” he mutters but without looking away from that mischievous little smile printed on your mouth. He already imagined what it would be like to sink his cock.
'Interesting' you continue in a low voice. “We were saying...”, you bend over again and this time you rub your ass right on the flap of Joel's pants, who can't hold back and gets hard with excitement.
“Jennifer what are you doing?”, Joel is losing his patience and may make you taste how material it can be if taunted to the limit.
“I'm pointing you to the points where to make the changes,” but you keep rubbing on the erection right behind you.
You feel it big and hard and you start to wet your panties.
Joel bends over you, pressing his stone-hard cock between your buttocks. Feel the warmth of his chest behind your shoulders.
'Stop it or I'll let you taste it... and I can't fuck my friend's daughter who is 30 years younger than me,' he growls in your ear. He gets up and pats you on the ass. And that makes you even more wet, along with his low, warm and pissed off voice.
'And why can't you do it?', you approach by unbuttoning your shirt and revealing your breases with turgid nipples pressing behind the white lace. Joel looks at you seriously and you lick your lips. “Since I was a little girl I've been imagining you above me... inside me Joel... and you too,” you say brazenly as you touch his neck and start opening his plaid shirt.
He grabs your wrist and carries it behind your back, brushing your face with his lips.
“Don't touch me and don't kiss me...”, he watches you closely. She has such fleshy lips behind those moustaches, gray hair and you can feel your pussy squeeze between your legs.
"Open the whole blouse," he orders you. You open button after button with one hand, because the other is still behind your back blocked by Joel's strong hand. "Hmm…", he leaves you and orders you to lower your bra, you are about to unfasten it from behind, but he stops you.
"Just put it down, get these little tits up", your breathing gets faster and faster with each of his orders and by now you're soaking wet between your legs.
Joel admires you for a few seconds, parting his lips when he sees your nipples sticking out of the lace.
"Joel, touch me" you mutter.
"What? Don't call me Joel, I'm Mr. Miller to you now, if you want to be fucked like a slut."
He walks over and turns you around, making your shoulders touch his muscular chest and not allowing you to touch him.
His hands brush against your stomach and reach your breasts, and he starts tugging and twisting your nipples.
"I bet you're already wet down there"
Nod your head. One of his hands caresses your thigh and climbs up until it touches your pulsating center.
"Kneel," he orders again.
You turn around and look at him with amusement. You've always wanted to taste it and see how big it is. Do as he tells you.
"Open my pants," he starts touching your hair and removing those two sticks that kept them tied up.
You open its belt, letting the buckle dangle on the sides and then pull down the zipper. He looks at you seriously and with an excited expression.
You really want to be fucked by that man who watched you grow up and you find everything a little dirty about it.
The black boxer shorts reveal his huge erection, pressing on his stomach. It is long and thick, from the base to the tip. You lick your lips.
"Take it, all of it," he has a hand on the back of your head and brings you closer to his pelvis. But you take his left hand and start licking his fingers. When you get to his ring finger you take it all in your mouth, sliding the wedding ring over your tongue.
"What the fuck are you doing?" He asks you with a hint of nervousness.
You smile and slide the ring over your chest, over your nipples and then you lift your skirt up to your waist. You walk past the lace panties and slip faith into your wet cunt, which doesn't hesitate to suck it in.
"You're such a little slut… Do I have to fuck you with my wedding ring inside you?"
"Yes, Joel…"
She grabs his cock and slams it on your cheek.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, Mr. Miller"
He rubs his cock on your lips, smearing the precum that glistens on the tip of his cock. You open your mouth and take it, even if it is difficult. It's too big.
Joel pulls your hair behind the back of your neck and begins to sink into your mouth, all the way to the base, enjoying the warmth and twins you emit around his shaft. It goes all the way down your throat, but it's also hard.
"Breathe through your nose because I'm not going to go out."
With faster and faster movements he starts to fuck your mouth and tears come to your eyes. Feel his balls slam into his chin and swell, charging up.
You look into Joel's eyes, his jaw clenched and he pushes you closer and harder and faster to him, just chasing his pleasure. You feel his spasms and gasp with excitement, then walk away.
"Get up, I'm going to fuck your cunt now, but first…"
He turns you around and folds you over on the table, pulls down your lace panties which are now all wet.
"I've got to get my ring first," and he shoves two fingers inside you all the way through, you let out a little scream as you feel his fingers move inside you. But before he grabs the ring, his fingers go in and out fast.
"There he is," he pulls out his fingers and puts on the ring.
Joel walks away a little to look at how wet you are.
"Of course I didn't imagine you were like this… How many guys have you fucked with?" He asks you, starting to rub his fingers on your cunt hole again.
"Many… Please, fuck me…"
Joel leans over you and aims his cock right there.
"You want me to fuck you like a slut, don't you? Do you want me to fill you up?"
"Yes, please Joe… Mr. Miller," your breath is labored. You're to the max. The hard nipples press against the cold table and you feel more and more open for him.
"Good girl, you're my bitch for now and I'm going to fuck you like a whore."
Joel enters you but his cock is the biggest you've had inside, but you manage to take it well, you feel spread out and moan when he touches the bottom with his tip.
"Christ, you're not very tight, what a slut."
Joel He starts to move his pelvis and bang it violently. You moan loudly, suck it in, and squeeze it with the walls of your pussy.
"Fuck, how wet you are", he grabs your hips and the thrusts become shorter and more intense, you feel his cock twitch inside you.
"Yes Mr. Miller, fill me with your cum," you whisper. "Cum inside me...please", You moan. He's big and hard.
Joel slows down his thrusts, with his right hand he holds your side and rests his left hand on your face, where the wedding ring still glows moist with your arousal, holding you down. He lowers himself over you and whispers in your ear.
"I only cum in my wife's cunt, you're young and I don't want to put a baby inside you", he pauses, you feel his hand go down your back and press on the other hole, between your buttocks.
You realize that he wants that part of you too, but that no one ever had.
"I can cum in here… how many have there been here?", Joel stops pushing and spreads your buttocks to look at you.
Shake your head.
"No one? Oh what a surprise, I'll be the first to fuck this nice ass then…"
While he's still inside you and harder and harder, he introduces his thumb.
It's just a finger, but you can already feel it so big and you can imagine that Joel's huge cock will soon enter there.
"Yes, yes Joel fuck my ass please."
Joel squeezes your hair behind your head with his other hand.
"Only my wife can call me Joel while we fuck, even though I bang like a slut. To you, I'm Mr. Miller, don't make me repeat it."
You nod, sweating your forehead and the papers under you.
Joel now inserts two fingers and opens them, to spread out to him. You're tight there.
"Fuck, you're going to hold me tightly,"
He comes out of your cunt and aims at the other entrance.
"I've got my cock and balls shiny from how wet you are, it won't take long to get into this tight hole."
He pushes and goes in little by little.
Pain takes over, Joel's cock is really big.
You moan and moan. Move your pelvis against him because you want to take it all inside you.
"You're impatient little slut… Now I'm going to fuck this pretty little ass and…", he leans closer to your ear again, "I'm going to fill you with my cum that won't leak out right away… And you'll come back to work full of me."
You feel it burning in your chest, it's so exciting when he talks like that. You never thought that Joel, your dad's friend, kind, could fuck like that and have such dirty language. It's so exciting.
Joel starts to move and the pain gives way to pleasure. You fit around him and take him with desire. You start to feel orgasm getting closer.
He fucks you hard and fast, his balls slamming against your wet cunt.
"Oh my God…" Squeeze the edges of the table above your head. His strokes cause the table to move forward. It's strong, too strong. Surely you will be sore and it will leave some bruises on your body, but you like this one.
He grabs your hair and pulls it slightly, causing your back to arch and exposing your openness even more.You moan loudly as you feel it even further inside, you have the feeling that it reaches your stomach.
As he squeezes your hair the other hand goes between your legs, his fingers draw circles on your clitoris and then enter your pussy, that is still open for him. You widen your eyes as he moves his fingers to feel in your walls how he moves inside you. You in a strong orgasm, squeezing around his fingers.
He goes all the way in and after more violent thrusts, you feel his cock throbbing.
"Christ!" Joel screams as he cums inside you and he was right, he filled you up because he keeps squirting his emptying completely.
You can hear your labored breaths. He squeezes your buttocks, while he walks out slowly enjoying the view.He walks away and admires you from behind.
"You're such a dirty slut, look at how open you're still there."
He walks closer again, sticks two fingers into your cunt, making you jump, and then into the other hole. "Hold tight, I don't want him to come out."
Then you hear him adjust his pants.
"Get up," he orders again. "Settle down and leave, resign from the post and get replaced." He puts his belt back on and fastens it again.
"But Joel…", you lower your skirt and button your blouse as you look at him with a frown.
"What did you believe? To get fucked like a slut and then work with me? I don't even think about it. Or did you think that by working together you would become my bitch?"
You open your mouth to say something, because it was just what you really wanted, but then the words don't come out.
"Well, I'll never touch you again, mind you. Now go and let me work."
Thank You for reading :)
#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfic#pedrito#fanfic#joel miller#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x reader
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DOOMED SIBLINGS: THE TODOROKIS VS. THE FIRE NATION ROYAL FAMILY
I received an ask in my inbox about how Zuko doesn't owe Azula any forgiveness. Truthfully I wasn't even going to respond because this isn't an avatar blog, but then I watched this video.
Not only do I disagree with the basically everything in this video, but I am going to make the argument that both Zuko' and Azula's arcs are both incomplete with the way the show left the two of them in the final showdown.
In order to make my argument I'm going to compare Azula and Zuko's relationship in avatar to Shoto and Toya's relationship in My Hero Academia and use the latter as a more positive example.
Unnecessary Redemption Arcs
The common fandom opinion I want to argue against is this idea that Azula's ending is a perfect tragedy, and therefore doesn't need to be expanded upon. There's also a sentiment that redeeming Azula would somehow ruin the impact of this perfect tragedy.
I'm about to argue against both of these points.
Azula's arc doesn't work as a tragedy.
Because of this her arc is unsatisfying and unfinished.
I'm going to address the first bullet point but before that let me add another disclaimer. The reason why I think Azula's arc isn't an effectively written tragedy isn't because I like Azula.
Before we even get into the My Hero Academia comparison let me bring up something completely different. I do like Azula, but I like Terra Markov from Teen Titans a lot more and I would not change a thing about her tragic end.
AZULA'S ARC IS NOT A WELL-WRITTEN TRAGEDY
Terra in the comics is what a lot of people accuse Azula of being. She is stated in the text and by her creators to be an unfeeling sociopath. She was also never intended by her creators to be redeemed.
[About Terra] The very first time we see her, she’s trying to blow up the Statue of Liberty. It’s just that all the fans assumed because we went out of our way to make her cute — but not too cute, with the buck teeth and everything — everyone would assume that she was gonna become good by the end and that was never the case.
First thing, we made a promise that day that we would never renege on our view that she’d never become good. It’s sometimes hard to do that with characters you like. You want them to become good or something like that. But we never liked the character enough—because we knew what we were doing with her—we never allowed ourselves to fall for the character. Because that’s bad. That’s bad storytelling. You’re doing what you want as a fan at that particular point, not as the creators. T
Now let me clarify, both creators of New Teen Titans say some nasty things about Terra and don't recognize her sexual abuse, but here's the thing. You don't have to read a story 100% the way the author intended, sometimes the story says one thing and the text says something different.
I am going to use Judas Contract as an example of a story where the character from the start was never intended to be redeemed and why that's a positive in this case.
Terra is a teenage girl, the bastard daughter of the king of Markovia and a random American woman who presumably has had no stable home her entire life because she's working as a mercenary at fifteen. She teams up with a man that is in his mid fifties and even starts a sexual relationship with him (this is statutory rape she cannot consent) and Deathstroke uses her to infiltrate the Teen Titans and learn as much as possible.
Terra is sent to live with the team and spy on them for several months. The whole time she only ever engages with them in a fake spunky persona, and never shows her real cutthroat self. She leads Beast Boy on in a fake romance to make him trust her and secure her place on the team. The way you'd usually expect this arc to go is that Terra would grow fond of the team and be torn in her loyalties.
Yeah, that never happens.
Terra loathes the Titans. In fact she's developed a superiority complex about her meta human abilities and she doesn't understand why anyone would use their powers to help others. She despises the concept of superheroes in general, and because of that never bonds with any of the Titans. Her feelings never change from start to finish, because her creators intentionally wrote her as a character that can't be redeemed.
Terra is written to be a psychopath, but even with that intention in mind there are scene that shows a greater range of emotions. She has what could amount to a trauma flashback when Beast Boy too aggressively flirts with her and tries to kiss her and she reacts violently, trying to bury him under the earth.
Let's go ahead and interpret Terra as what is used as the fictional definition of a "sociopath" that is someone who feels no bonds with other people, someone with shallow emotions and someone devoid of guilt. Even if we interpret her that way, her story is still meant to be read as a tragedy.
Terra succeeds in her mission of infiltrating the Titans. Slade captures most of them, and the only remaining member Dick Grayson goes missing. Dick Grayson then unites with Slade's son Jericho, and the two of them team up in order to rescue the rest of their friends.
Even after all she's done the Titans try to make pleas to Terra during the final battle, which she not only rejects but responds to with violence. Which only confirms what I said above, Terra never grew to love them, she never regretted her actions, she only ever engaged with them with lies.
(Terra always lies, Terra always lies, Terra always lies).
Terra is declared by Raven to be devoid of emotions: "Her thinking is unlike ours. She feels no true love or hate. Her soul is corrupt. What she does is done without remorse."
Even after Raven declares this, however she still pleads with Terra to stop because she's going to hurt herself. Terra feels Slade betrayed her because he favored his son Jericho over her, so she decides to take both Slade and the Titans down. As the Titans fight her she begins to mentally fall apart ignoring their appeals to her and lashing out at everything around her. Eventually she makes one last attempt to everything around her, but the Titans escape and she only manages to bury herself.
At no point in the fight do the Titans give up on trying to reach her even as she's loudly screaming how much she hates them. Even after she's buried and it looks like she's dead, Gar and Donna both try desperately to dig her up on the slim hope she's still alive. When they find the body they even give her a funeral afterwards, even though they all think that Terra was beyond redemption.
Even the prose narration that accompanies her death is incredibly melancholy and bemoans her fate, at the same time as it calls her a outright sociopath.
There's no reasoning with her now. However slim, whatever sanity Tara Markov possessed is gone. Now there is only primal hatred! Hatred born, nurtured, and fanned. Hatred that festers and grows without care, without feeling, without plan. her pursed lips part and the sounds which echoes force are garbled and inhuman. Hot, boiling blood gushes wildly from the earth's open wounds, its skin fractures and cracks, and if a world could cry, it surely would.
Her name is Tara Markov and she is little more than sxiteen years old, and due to the fault of no one but herself she is insane. No one taught her to hate, yet she hates without cause, without reason. No one taught her to destroy, yet she destroys with glee, with relish. Don't look for reasons which do not exist, plainly Tara Markov is what she is, and she has taken a great power and made it as corrupt as she. Hers was the power over the earth itself she could have brought life to deserts, hat to the frozen tundra, food to sraving millions. She could have damned raging rivers, and tunneled water to packed lands dry and dead. her powers were limited only by the mind which controlled them. A mind which sought not hope, not love, not life, but death.
If you go with the text that she is just a sociopath beyond redemption who hates and hates and hates for no reason, the narrative still mourns her because a sixteen year old with her whole life ahead of being consumed by hatred and then dying because of it is in fact sad.
If you read into the subtext then you can argue that the events of the story, contradicts what the narration is telling us. Terra is being sexually groomed and groomed as a child soldier by a man who is much older than her, even if she thinks he's a partner he clearly has all power in the relationship.
If you think about it that way then Terra is the ultimate bad victim. She doesn't cry and call for help as a victim of sexual abuse, instead she tries to claim power for herself, she manipulates, and she destroys any chance she had for a genuine relationship because she only sees all relationships as transactions she can gain or lose from.
Even if you only go with the first interpretation, the narrative still remains tragic because the Titans themselves did not want to give up on her, they did not want to watch this sixteen-year-old girl destroy herself. They never stop reaching out for her and it doesn't work, because there was no way out for Terra but death.
Here's the thing I don't think Terra's status as a sexual victim automatically means an ending where she dies is offensive. It reflects a reality that victims like Terra often go unseen because they don't present their victimhood in palatable ways, and by the time anyone notices it's far too late. Sometimes tragedies are meant to reflect a reality where many people do not get saved.
There's two reasons that Judas Contract works as a tragic story. Number one the creators planned Terra's ending right from the beginning. Which meant they never gave her any moment where she shows that she's redeemable. There's no genuine bond between her and the titans, no wrestling with the guilt of her actions, nothing.
Number two, Judas Contract is Terra's story from beginning to end. It begins with her betrayal of the Titans, and ends with her death. The death is also brought upon herself by her fatal flaw her hatred, which is what makes her the protagonist of a tragedy. Tragedies are stories where heroes are undone by their flaws. Terra also goes out on her own terms. She buries herself underneath her own rocks. Her death is a direct consequence of her inability to let go of her hatred. Terra's not fridged for anybody else's arc, she retains her agency until the exact moment of her death.
To simplify into bullet points, Judas Contract works because:
The creators thought out what they wanted to do with Terra.
Judas contract is Terra's story.
Now, getting to the part where we actually talk about Avatar, and I start complaining about that awful, awful video.
AZULA'S ARC IS NOT WELL THOUGHT OUT
I just went on a long tangent on how Terra, a character written to have no redeemable qualities can still be tragic. How the creators marked her as clearly doomed from the start, and how she brought about her end on herself, how there no redemption for Terra. How this girl had no real chance, and how regardless of the fact Terra is a lil baby sociopath her fall is still tragic because of how well structured the tragedy is surrounding her.
It's awful to kill off a sixteen year old victim of sexual abuse, but the ending just fits because Terra represents a certain type of bad, unsympathetic victim who doesn't get saved.
Azula's arc isn't as well structured. The ending does not fit. I'm going to start by refuting some points in the awful, awful video I did not like.
"Maybe it's okay if Azula's story ends where it does in the series we would separate how we would treat a real 14-year-old girl from a villain in a series, ad that's why any redemption arc isn't need i a story after all. A character needs of deserves a redemption arc when it becomes the most meaningful way to explore their character and place in the story, but a character deserving redemption usually comes before the story really needing it, and I don't think Azula's done anything to deserve it yet. They've got to exhibit some willingness and action to change..."
So the main reason I'm using Terra as my first example is because Terra is the kind of character that Hello Future Me is describing. Terra was written with the specific intention she'd never experience a change of heart, all of the friendships she makes with the Titans are fake, she very loudly experiences no remorse, or even self-reflection over what she is. Terra's pretty proudly a monster and she never experiences any kind of self-doubt or regret over what she's become.
I can disprove right away Hello Future Me's blanket statement (with no actual cited examples, just trust him guys) that Azula never did anything to hint she may deserve redemption. That suggests Azula is an entirely selfish character who uses, manipulates and thinks she's right and worst of all is comfortable being the way she is, and therefore incapable of doing the self-reflection necessary for change.
Azula does show the capacity to do selfless actions several times in the narrative, and even consider the feelings of others. There's the apology scene with Ty Lee and the way she interacts with her friends in general with the Beach where when she's not fighting in a war or trying to complete a mission for her father Azula 1) interacts with her friends in a normal way and 2) seems to express a desire to experience normal relationships not the hierarchical ones she's experienced all of her life.
However, that's not the example I'm going to use as her save the cat moment. I generally intend to interpret that as a sign that even though she treats Mai and Ty Lee as subordinates and that power she holds over them eventually leads to them leaving her, their friendship isn't just Azula abusing them and lording her authority over their heads 24/7.
No, Azula's save the cat moments all revolve around Zuko. Which is funny, because the entire fandom seems to regard Azula as Zuko's evil little sister who exists to do nothing but torment her.
The first and biggest is Azula deciding to bring Zuko home in Ba Sing Se, and telling a lie to her father that he was the one to slay the avatar.
Ozai: I am proud of you, Prince Zuko. I am proud because you and your sister conquered Ba Sing Se. I am proud because when your loyalty was tested by your treacherous uncle, you did the right thing and captured the traitor. And I am proudest of all of your most legendary accomplishment: you slayed the Avatar.
Zuko: [Shocked.] What did you hear?
Ozai: Azula told me everything. She said she was amazed and impressed at your power and ferocity at the moment of truth.
[Inspired partly by this post]
Now the show seems to regard this action as Azula being an evil temptress who is there to tempt Zuko back to her side with everything he thinks he ever wanted.
That's only if you regard it from Zuko's perspective.
Think for a moment from Azula's perspective. Number one, Azula is someone thoroughly indoctrinated into Fire Nation propaganda who measures her self-worth based on 1) military achievement and 2) her father's approval and assessment of her talents. In Azula's own logic (wrongheaded as it is) she's helping Zuko. She's bringing him back home with his place in the line of succession restored and his father's approval.
Azula doesn't benefit from this gesture at all, in fact if her father discovers the lie she has as much to lose as Zuko does.
Now Zuko insinuates that Azula only brought Zuko along and told her father that he was the one who killed the avatar so she could let him take the fall if the avatar turned out to be alive.
However, if you look at the actual order of events that doesn't make sense. Azula saw the avatar die, she didn't know about the spirit water, and therefore had no way of knowing Aang could come back. In fact, it's Zuko who 1) knew about the spirit water and 2) decides to keep the spirit water and the fact the avatar might have survived a secret that is throwing Azula under the bus. After all she has as much to lose as he did and instead of sharing that information with her he decides to keep it all to himself.
Now Azula does imply that if the avatar were to turn out to be alive all of Zuko's glory would dry up, but this is only after Zuko 1) throws accusations at her and 2) makes it's pretty clear he's lying to her putting her on the defensive.
This is also a scenario where Azula doesn't have much to gain by bringing Zuko back, if you look at it from her perspective. If Azula just lets Zuko rot in a ba sing se prison, then her claim to the throne is secure. With Zuko back he's restored in the line of succession. She also, when making the decision to invite Zuko to her side probably didn't need him for her plan to succeed.
There is a dramatic moment of Zuko choosing to side with Azula over Katara which turns the tide in Azula's favor, but Azula can't see into the future and therefore wouldn't be able to predict that happening. If you look at it from Azula's perspective she 1) successfully infiltrated the city, 2) already had the Dai Lee in her pocket. She likely already thought she had the city secure at this point so her decision to extend a hand out to Zuko is therefore likely motivated by selflessness instead of self-interest.
That's important because usually when Azula usually only gives her help to others if it also benefits her in some way. Azula might genuinely see her recruiting Mai and Ty Lee to her side as a member of the royal family extending her favor and giving them status and security in their positions but it has the underlying motivation of 1) she keeps them in a position to beneath her and therefore in her complete control.
Azula will interact with Mai and Ty Lee like friends on the surface, as long she maintains control over them, but if they do anything to something that displeases her she'll do anything to regain her control.
Mai: I thought you ran off and joined the circus. You said it was your calling.
Ty Lee: Well, Azula called harder.
This is set up in Azula's very first interaction with Ty Lee. Azula greets her like an old friends, Ty Lee even seems happy to see her, but the second Ty Lee tries to say no to her Azula goes to extreme lengths to "persuade her". Azula's friendship with Mai and Ty Lee is an abusive friendship because there is a power differential and even if Azula feels genuine affection for them both it's clear they're not allowed to say no. Mai and Ty Lee are put into positions where it's in their best interest to please her, and live in fear of the consequences if they don't do just that.
Here's the thing, I'm not arguing that Azula didn't deserve any consequences for her actions. I'm arguing that the setup doesn't match her eventual ending. Azula is set up to have Mai and Ty Lee leave her from the very first scene that Azula interacts with Ty Lee. It's satisfying because the set up matches the pay off.
It's also tragic because it's Azula continuing the chain of abuse. The video isn't entirely wrong (which is why they came to the wrong conclusion frustrating).
Azula's fall is about how differenting parenting styles can a child. Ozai's affection is exchanged for being useful. Something Azula would go on to repeat with her friends, whereas Iroh's affection is something freely given with patience for imperfections and failures, something Zuko goes then on to repeat.
It's like... there it is it's so close. Here's the thing, Azula is set up for a tragic falling out with Mai and Ty Lee (and one she deserves) but the set up is different with Zuko. Azula's save the cat moment revolves around Zuko, and her genuine attempt to bring her brother home.
Yes, the first time Azula interacts with Zuko in season 2, she tries to take him home by force. However, by the ending of the season Azula's perspective on the matter has obviously changed because she begins by trying to bring him back as a prisoner, and by the end of the season invites him back as an equal.
There's no moment in Season 3 where Azula treats Zuko the way she does Mai and Ty Lee (unless Zuko provokes it first and puts her on the defensive) in fact most of her interactions are either them interacting normally (such as when Azula goes to find Zuko at their old beach house because she knows he'll be there and advises he leave instead of dwelling on their depressing memories) or Azula deliberately trying to look out for Zuko such as when she advises him not to go visiting with Uncle because it'll make others suspicious.
On the other hand, Zuko never at any point looks out for his sister the way Azula is demonstrated looking out for him. He doesn't say, try to tell her where he's going on the Day of Black Sun, or try to convince her the fire nation is wrong. There's a scene in the later part of Season 3 where Zuko is watching Azula fall to her death while sitting on a flying bison and not only sits there and does nothing about it, but sounds disappointed when she doesn't hit the ground and become an Azula Pancake.
That's pretty much the opposite of a save the cat moment. It's a "let the cat fall to their death" kind of moment.
Yes they were enemies at that point, but Zuko's the one who's supposed to learn that affection is something freely given with patience for imperfections and failures, something Zuko goes then on to repeat.
How exactly is he doing that in this scene?
The thing is... this setup doesn't have to be bad. Of course Zuko has trouble has trouble empathizing with Azula, he doesn't even think about sending a letter to Mai, Zuko's shown at this point to be like a healing abuse victim who's understandably focused on himself.
This in fact could be excellent set up with step 1) learning what genuine love and forgiveness is and 2) demonstrating those two things by applying it to others.
However, that's not where we got. We got Zuko watching his sister have a complete emotional breakdown, crying and screaming while chained to a grate and looking somewhat sad.
And once again to bring Terra into this, Terra is what Stay at Home and parts of fandom argue that Azula is. Terra screams at the top of her lungs how much she hates the Titans, how much she was always lying to them, and the Titans STILL try to reach Terra with words, try to de-escalate the conflict, when she's about to bring the rocks falling down on herself warn her she's going to hurt herself, and then when she's buried under rubble try to dig her out begging for her too still be alive.
Terra who's intentionally created by her writers to be as hatable as possible, is shown more compassion by the heroes in her ending than Zuko ever does to Azula. They also give Terra multiple opportunities to change until literally the very last minute, which Zuko doesn't do either.
What's set up is Azula has this save the cat moment with her brother, that Zuko is pretty much the only person she doesn't treat like a subordinate in the story (because she just like Zuko has a craving for familial love she tries to earn from her father). However, her ending with Zuko just taking her down doesn't fit that setup.
Azula's ending only fits if you consider her arc entirely from Zuko's perspective, which is the underlying issue. Azula's not the protagonist of her own tragedy, she's a plot object that's used to benefit Zuko's arc.
Azula's is written to have a downfall, the same way that Zuko loses everything at the ending of season 1 b/c of his inability to give up on the obsessive search for the avatar (and his father's love with it). Azula is written to be left by Mai and Ty Lee (this is the strongest point of writing when it comes to her since it comes from the beginning).
However, she's not written to be left completely alone and insane with the only empathy being shown is that her brother looks kinda sorta sad. That's only good if you view her as an object to further Zuko's arc, because isn't the ultimate culmination of Zuko beating his sister who has always been ahead of him at life? Azula needs to torn down completely without even some small glimpse of a hope of recovery so Zuko can be built up even moreor at least the writers of avatar seem to think so.
However, even Azula just existing for Zuko's growth and character development doesn't have to necessarily be a bad thing. This is where we get to MHA, which does the tragic siblings and the final Ag Ni Kai about 1000 times better with Shoto and Dabi.
THE GOOD
The comparisons between Shoto and Dabi to Zuko and Azula are made pretty often by the fandom. Shoto has a scar, Dabi has blue flames. Shoto has an arc about healing and learning what it means to be a hero, Dabi's arc is about self-destruction.
Dabi's not the center of his own story, he exists to foil Shoto and help Shoto reach the endpoint of his character development however that's not necessarily a bad thing. These are both two pairs of tragic siblings, the main difference is that MHA doesn't feel the need to tear down one sibling in order to build up the other. In fact, the final step to Shoto's arc is HELPING Dabi, not PUTTING HIM DOWN.
Not only that but the decision to help Dabi is a decision that Shoto makes on his own, and him going against the tide of a society that has already given up on Dabi and would much rather have Shoto shoot Dabi like a mad dog. Which makes the decision to do so even more powerful and emblematic of Shoto's growth.
Now you could say that Shoto and Zuko are too different to compare their arcs, Zuko has a redemption arc, and Shoto has what most people would probably term a healing arc. Shoto starts out the series as a hero.
However, this is what annoys me about the redemption arc debate. A redemption arc is really just a normal character arc. However, calling it redemption drags things like morality and forgiveness into the debate. if you take remove the discussion about moral philosophy both Zuko and Shoto have character arcs where they start the story defined entirely by their home situations and their father's abuse (hence why they have big obvious scars on their face), recover from their trauma, and go on to find an identity outside of their father and form healthy non-abusive connections with others.
In fact I'd see the theme of both arcs are the same, to literally find balance within themselves. Shoto is divided quite literally into right and left sides, fire and ice, and even seems to view himself as half of his father and half of his mother. Zuko is someone who's permanently marked and dishonored by the burn scar on his face. He suffers from an internal imbalance as well. Iroh says that Zuko is the descendant of both Roku and Sozin and therefore both pathways are open to him (but wouldn't that apply to Azula too). Zuko says to his father that the fire nation has destroyed the balance to the world and he's going to leave to assist the avatar in order to fix it.
Shoto's balance isn't just about fixing his internal trauma though, it's also about finding a balance between his family which has defined his entire life up until this point, and his desire to become his own hero not the hero his father groomed him into.
It's why the culmination of his arc is Shoto reaching out to save his family member Toya, because it's the ultimate balance in wanting to heal his family, and also the kind of hero he wants to be, someone who saves and brings peace to others instead of just violently putting down villains. He can bring peace to his family and become his own hero in one action.
However, let's go back to the beginning of Shoto's arc, because saving Toya as an endpoint to his arc is set up pretty early on.
Shoto's arc begins with Deku, a stranger breaking down Shoto's walls as an outsider in order to allow him to look past his own trauma and recall for the first time what he wanted outside of his resentment towards his father. This sets up the idea early on for Shoto that sometimes you need outside interference, help you didn't ask for, especially when you can't see outside of your own problems.
What Deku brings about ultimately is a change of perspective, Shoto's so hurt by the memory of his mother throwing boiling water in his face and everything that came after that he can't recall the memory of her telling him he could be who he wanted to be.
But, you want to be a hero right?
Shoto takes away two things from this arc, sometimes you need help even when you're not asking for it, and sometimes a change in respective is required in order to take the first step forward.
He goes to demonstrate these things multiple times, but here's two exaamples. The first Shoto demonstrates immediately after the tournament arc. When Iida is about to go down a dark path and commit a revenge killing on Stain. When, as a result of that IIDA is paralyzed and about to die in an alleyway, it's Shoto who both notices Midoriya and Iida are missing and shows up in the clutch. He's practicing the same thing that Deku taught him in the last arc: Giving help that's not asked for is what makes a true hero.
He even mentions the second idea, that a small change in perspective can be all it takes to save someone, and he wants to do for Iida hat Deku did for him. His words are the one who convinces Iida to stand back up again when he's paralyzed.
If you wanna stop this, then stand up. Because I've got one thing to say to you. Never forget who you want to become!
However Shoto's arc doesn't end here, because one of the major conflicts in MHA is that heroes don't pick and choose who to save and a true hero will give help even to those people who don't ask for it.
This is a point which further develops when Shoto's abusive father starts to show a change of heart at the end of the Pro Hero Arc. Shoto still holds his father accountable for what he did in the past, but he also acknowledges that if he had the capacity to change then so does Enji. This isn't about whether or not Enji is forgivable, this is an extension of what Shoto learned. Shoto originally believed he was controlled by the circumstances of his birth, that his fate was set in stone, but a change in perspective allows him to realize he can determine who he wants to be. So, Shoto is just applying what he's learned, Enji has the capacity to grow.
There's one final piece of setup that I want to cover before showing how these separate dies all culminate in saving Dabi. Shoto's not only someone who has to find balance between his family and his desire to be a hero.
The theme of balance is written into the quirk itself. Enji basically practiced eugenics to create Shoto as his masterpiece. He noticed a flaw in his own quirk where he could only make his flames so hot without overheating. So he arranged a quirk marriage with Rei who possessed an ice quirk to create a hybrid ice and fire quirk that he could use to cool himself off to prevent him from overheating.
Enji only ever cared about the fire half of Shoto's quirk. His ice quirk only exists for his flames to grow stronger. This is shown when Enji is trying to force Shoto to learn all of his signature moves, because he only cares about Shoto's flame quirk. Shoto was created to carry on his father's legacy, and surpass him with an even more powerful flame quirk. Part of his character development is him learning how to use his quirk in his own way.
This is a theme that continues in the class training arc where Enji is still repeating the behavior of trying to force Shoto to learn his signature moves instead of considering what he wants at all, because still Shoto only exists in Enji's mind to carry on his legacy.
This all culminates in Toya's decision to save his brother. The first is his action in choosing to identify with his brother. If Shoto believes in his own capacity to change, and even his father's, then why would he deny Toya that same chance to change?
The foiling between Shoto and Toya isn't supposed to reduce the two of them to "Shoto is the good one, and he's the bad one", but instead Shoto and Toya were both in a point where they were consumed by hatred and couldn't see any other path in life. Therefore if Shoto was able to change because someone gave him help when he didn't ask for it, then Toya not only has the capacity to change - but in order for Shoto to stick to his stated beliefs that the smallest of things can bring about a change in people he has to be the one to give his brother that chance to change.
It's not about whether Dabi is worthy or not, it's about the themes in Shoto's arc finally being paid off.
Shoto's identifying with Toya, and even parts where he tells Bakugo he'll make Toya sit down and make Toya tell him his favorite food indicate that from the beginning Shoto's intention was to find a way to stop Toya without killing him (which is what several of the adult heroes were encouraging him to do).
@stillness-in-green does a more succinct summary of this plan.
Just me?
Because, like, Shouto had a plan. He spent the time between the two war arcs specifically developing a brand-new combat technique that he planned to use to shut down Dabi's combat advantage without killing him. He convinced his dad not to change the plan like Endeavor was hesitantly sounding him out about[1]; he went out and talked and asked questions, and even if they weren't the right words every single time, he did his best and he did it with intention. If Dabi proves to be dead, it won't be because of anything Shouto did to him; it'll be because Dabi himself chose to stand back up, take a warp gate across the country, pick a fight with the guy who doesn't have the power set to shut him down without unduly hurting him, and trying to replicate an Ultimate Move specifically tailored for someone with a balanced power set Dabi doesn't have.
And if Dabi lives, it's still going to be because Shouto booked it across the country and used that same technique to stop him again.
Shoto's decision to save Shoto is also a continuation of his decision to help save Iida from Stain. It's not enough for Shoto to experience a change of heart about his own life, he's got to take what he learned about people's capacity to change, and the importance of connections and then put that into practice and help others the way he was helped.
However, it also further develops the theme of giving help that's not ask for from Iida because Shoto's not saving a mostly heroic kid, he's saving Toya to help break a familial cycle of abuse (because murdering the abuse victim isn't how you end the cycle of abuse... actually).
Shoto's last lines to Dabi are also a refutation of this idea of destiny that he once thought he was ruled by. It's once again, Shoto teaching someone else the lesson he learned. Toya says a warped rail can never mingle with a straight and narrow one! In other words Shoto can never understand or get along with Dabi, because Dabi will forever be defined as the failure because of the circumstances of his brith, whereas Shoto will always be the success.
His final action is a decision to break the cycle they were born into: no, we're gonna mingle whether you like it or not.
Shoto's ultimate move Phosphor is not only a move he designed far in advance to take down Dabi non-lethally, it also is a rejection of his father's teaching method. Toya says he only ever taught me how to turn up the heat. Enji only valued both Shoto and Toya for their flame quirks. Developing his own quirk and breaking away from what his father wanted, specifically in order to save his brother. It's Shoto rejecting what his father created both of them for (a successor to his quirk) and finding his own path. By using that move to take down Dabi he's not only teaching Dabi their flame exists for more than just destruction, he's also by letting Dabi live giving Dabi a chance.
From a conversation with @class1akids
Dabi was the last push to unlock Shoto’s full power. Until then he was on the track of mastering flashfire like Endeavor planned for him (except for his own reasons) but realising the fighting Dabi with fire was gonna kill them both and also he’s simply no match fire only helped Shoto to fully take control of what his quirk is
Like his quirk development goes parallel with how he faces each member of his family and finally meeting Toya is like the last piece of his puzzle to find his own full power and identity.
It's not just Shoto decides to save his brother because he's just that nice, his arc is literally incomplete without it. The act of creating phosphor a move specifically to save Dabi is both him unlocking the full power of his quirk (by balancing the fire and ice sides of his quirk) but also achieving balance between trying not to leave his family behind while at the same time becoming his own person and hero outside of his family circumstances.
Citing my conversation with class1akids again:
Toya is endangering everyone at Gunga. Endeavor has no means to stop him and when he tries to murder suicide Rei interrupts and his “hero way out” is taken. All he can do is watch helplessly as his family is about to burn to death with a bunch of strangers he tried to protect.
But it would do Shoto dirty to use his heart technique to kill his family and the strangers so he comes in a clutch and I see that confrontation as the power trauma vs the power of healing in the family. With Shoto who is a true hero, they can put the fire out and save the family and strangertoo. Shoto become a balanced hero and bring relief and reassurance, Endeavor was completely helpless, and Toyas inner child got the attention he wanted, plus depending on how you read it, he may have become less suicidal.
Shoto also, and I want to point this out desires to stop his brother not to take him down but because he doesn't want him to hurt any more people. He's again finding a balance between two ideas 1) Shoto needs to stop his brother in order to stop him from creating more victims and 2) Shoto needs to find a way to stop him that's not just putting him down because Toya himself is a victim.
Shoto also, and I must point this out for the comparison between Zuko and Azula goes out of his way to engage Dabi in conversation, ask him why he didn't come home and what happened to him in the years after he died. This is especially poignant because unlike Zuko and Azula who grew up together, Shoto basically had no relationship with his brother (and the rest of his siblings really) before Toya died because Enji purposefully kept Shoto separate from all the "failures."
So yes, the act of saving Toya is more for the completion of Shoto's arc than any redemption arc for Toya but Toya's not just a plot object to move around for Shoto's arc, Toya has his own agency all throughout. In fact it's the fact that Toya resists being saved every step of the way that provides the challenge that Shoto needs to grow in order to be able to save him.
Toya's not just after revenge against his father that's the surface reason, Toya is also just blatantly suicidal. Toya's birth is marked as a failure, his death wasn't even acknowledged by his family and everything stayed the same in his absence, so he created Dabi while praying at his own shrine in order to mourn Toya. Dabi can't find any meaning in his life where he was born as a failure, so he'll use his death taking revenge against Endeavor for having been born in order to give his life meaning.
What makes Avatar look especially bad in its treatment of Azula in comparison to how MHA treats Dabi, is that Dabi is way, way less redeemable than Azula. For one Azula has clearly proven affection both her friends and her brother (and I don't think she even deserves Mai and Ty Lee's forgiveness they had every right to walk out on her and want nothing to do with her again.)
Dabi is probably the ugliest victim of the League of Villains. The rest of the league have far more moments in their bonds with each other. Toya is the outsider to the league even if there are some subtle hints to his affection (he tries to show up to save Twice, and also burns down Toga's family house to comfort her). The villains are mostly shown to be redeemable by their positive friendship with each other, and Dabi at several points denies the league's bond (he pulls a Terra and yells out loud at the top of his lungs none of the league matter to him). Unlike with Terra you can argue this is most likely Dabi trying to cover up his real feelings. However, the fact that he feels the need to hide his affection from the league shows he's purposefully distancing himself from any bonds whatsoever.
Unlike Azula who has gone out of her way to help her brother in one major way, and also shows hints in early season 3 of having that sibling bond with him Dabi just straight up wants to murk Toya. Azula also tries to murk Zuko, but that's only when Zuko leaves on the day of Black Sun (one without telling her, and two something that probably left her alone to deal with the consequences of lying to her father for his sake). Either way, Azula's behavior in early season 3 is setup for the fact that their sibling bond can be salvaged.
Dabi is way worse to Shoto in comparison. Dabi in the first part never saw Shoto as his own person, just a puppet of his father (puppets have no autonomy or personhood). His feelings towards Shoto only went so far as Shoto was someone who could kill in order to upset Enji. Dabi also doesn't particularly care for the rest of his family as well (only calling out Natsu's name when his brain is literally melting), they're either ways to hurt endeavor, or he wants to drag them in hell with him. Heck his last words after being saved is telling everyone to die and go to hell.
Dabi doesn't bother to make bonds with the league or have any lingering affection for his family because Dabi's determined to seslf destruct. He's given up on life the moment he saw that he died and nothing changed in that household, now all that's left is for him to create a meaningful death by dragging his family to hell with him.
Dabi is also even as a child made out to be an unpleasant victim. He attacks baby Shoto with his flames early on out of jealousy (even though he later admits that he was being unfair to Shoto). He makes the situation in the house worse by loudly screaming and demanding his father's attention. He screams at his mother and throws her complicity in Enji's abuse in her face.
This is in comparison to Shoto who in childhood flashbacks we are only ever seen either 1) crying, and 2) trying to comfort and protect his mother. Toya's even made out to be difficult to empathize with as a child - which like flew over half of the fandom's heads because he got accusations of somehow abusing his father and the rest of his family in that chapter at 10 years old. However, that in a way illustrates my point.
The fact that Dabi is so disliked by a certain portion of the fandom is because Horikoshi paints such an ugly portrait of Toya in the way he expresses his victimhood. It's done deliberately too, because number one Toya by resisting Shoto's attempts to save him and trying to self destruct instead retains agency as a character. He makes decisions even though they're bad self destructive ones, he's not just a prop. Number two, the fact that Toya is intentionally portrayed as such an ugly victim makes Shoto's decision to break the cycle of familial abuse by saving Toya and not leaving a single family member all the more poignant.
Toya is an uglier victim than Azula, actively trying to kill himself in a way that Azula isn't, and treats Shoto way worse than Azula ever treated Zuko and yet Azula isn't shown the sympathy or given the salvation that Toya is.
Because once again, the writers didn't think about the ending of Azula's arc or of Azula as her own character. Shoto defeating Toya is the culmination of his desire to break the cycle of abuse in his family. Zuko putting Azula down is just to make Zuko look better. It's in service of Zuko's character instead of both of their characters.
THE BAD
Avatar isn't setting up some gritty ending where the bad guys can't be stopped, they can only be killed. In fact it's pretty close in tone to MHA.
Season 3 especially is the season that really begins to hammer in on the themes that even the people on the enemy side are still human after all. The headband shows that Fire Nation children are indoctrinated into the war, but they are in the end still children. There's the story between Avatar Roku and Sozin, and once again Iroh saying that Zuko has both options becoming like Roku or becoming like Sozin available to him (but not Azula I guess). There's Zuko joining Team Avatar, even after he betrayed Katara in Ba Sing Se and should have burnt that bridge then and there. There's Zuko working to earn their trust again when no one on the team really owe it to him.
The main character of the show is a pacifist, who deliberately learns a way to stop Ozai without killing him before the final battle because he doesn't want to break the values taught to him by his culture.
If the entire theme of season 3 is redemption, healing and that the fire nation are not inherently evil then why does Zuko's sister and character foil end the last shot of the series screaming and crying with no one comforting or even attempting to sympathize with her. Why is this one character marked for tragedy in a show that is about redemption and healing and showing compassion to your enemies and very specifically not a tragedy.
Toya literally burns all of the flesh off of his body, and somehow he has a gentler ending than Azula, because at least Toya's arc ends with all the members of his family showing up to try to cool down his flames, and when he's on the ground burnt to a crisp his father finally apologizes to him. Toya is a skinless burnt chicken wing, my boy has no skin, and somehow he's better off than Azula.
I don't think the writers gave Azula such a cruel ending because they don't like her, but rather because they just didn't think about her ending outside of what it meant for Zuko. Which is why you get moments like Aang who is apparently a pacifist who doesn't want to kill the Firelord, watching his daughter fall to her death while sitting on a flying bison and doing absolutely nothing to save her. ALL LIFE IS PRECIOUS (except for Azula I guess).
It's not bad because a victim doesn't get saved, it's bad because it doesn't fit in with the rest of the story.
Not only is Zuko saving Azula a very natural conclusion to his arc, but there's far more setup for Zuko reaching out to his sister and saving her than there ever was for Toya and Shoto. Both Toya and Terra are screaming at the top of their lungs "I HATE EVERYONE, YOU SHOULD ALL JUST GO TO HELL." They're both making decisions and committing to their self destruction while Azula is a 14 year old girl having a mental breakdown.
Anyway, time to quote the bad bad video again.
"When does a villain deserve a redemption arc? When do we deserve a redemption arc? I know this is gonna hurt, but characters are not people. They are tools. They are represetations of people. They can be used to say other things. They can be symbolic representation of other ideas.
Azula's story is not just about a fourteen year old defeated by her brother for the throne, Azula is Zuko's character foil, where she is ruthless and practical, Zuko is empathetic and emotional. Where Azula's a prodigy, Zuko has to work hard to earn eve a fraction of her power.
I specifically chose to cite MHA, because of how differently it decided to use Shoto and Toya's character foiling. Shoto recognizes himself in Toya, and how different their paths were in life. This is explicitly motivates him to save Toya. It's also the culmination of everything that Shoto has learned because Shoto is a hero who believes that actions speak louder than words. It's not enough for Shoto to resolve his own inner struggle, he also has to help Dabi with his because that's showing Shoto has grown rather than telling us.
I think that is where the major difference lies between Shoto and Zuko, we're told that Zuko has chosen the path of empathy and healing, that he's learned to give people love and patience like Iroh has but instead of showing that the culmination of his arc is having a fist fight with his sister in a denny's parkinglot.
Azula is Zuko's character foil, where she is ruthless and practical, Zuko is empathetic and emotional. Where Azula's a prodigy, Zuko has to work hard to earn eve a fraction of her power.
If Zuko is empathic and emotional and that is why he's gained friends while Azula is now alone after having lost her friends due to the way she treated them, then like... what a great opportunity for Zuko to SHOW that quality of empathy.
However, Zuko doesn't do anything that Shoto does in the final fight. He's not even here for Azula, Azula's just an obstacle for taking back the crown. He doesn't talk to Azula, engage her in any way, try to de-escalate and avoid the fight.
If you want to make the tragedy that Azula and Zuko have taken such different paths in life that that Zuko fighting with his sister is unavoidable you could um... at least show Zuko being sad over the prospect of fighting his sister or being reluctant in any way.
(Before you come in here with "Zuko doesn't owe Azula anything take" this isn't about whether or not Azula is a terrible sister to Zuko, this is about the story that avatar is attempting to tell. Shoto and Dabi's fight is tragic because Shoto doesn't want to fight Dabi, he wants Dabi to come home and for their family to be complete. Zuko never expresses anything like that so where does the tragedy come from?)
If it were 100% committed to a tragedy like Terra's death then I wouldn't mind. if it were 100% committed to a story of redemption like Shoto reaching out to Toya then I wouldn't mind. My issue arises from the fact they want to have their cake and eat it too.
They want to give this tragic end to Azula, and use it to illustrate how Zuko has grown as a character. However, you can't have both.
If Zuko's growth is about learning that his father's love based on achievement and 2) learning he needed to get lost in life in order to find himself then why doesn't any of Zuko's actions demonstrate this lesson Zuko has learned about love, and about how you can be your own person outside what your father expects from you.
If Zuko has grown as a character he should be able to show those actions. He does show his new understanding of love and friendship to Team Avatar, but as I said that's easy mode. That's Shoto's attempts to save Iida, it's a step in the right direction. It's also not really Zuko demonstrating a selfless love, because he's also at the same time trying to earn their trust and earn his way into the group.
It's also not Zuko breaking the cycle of abuse in their family in any way. Shoto is trying to break free from his role of his father's masterpiece, and at the same time helping Dabi break free from his view that he's the failure.
It's also such a natural ending for Zuko's arc, to take the lessons he learned from Iroh and give them to his sister who needs them so they can both break away from their father's parenting. As I said Zuko does solve the internal conflict within himself, but he doesn't really demonstrate that by helping someone else find their balance.
If you wanted the tragic end, then it would have to be about Zuko's failure to reach out to his sister, because he hasn't learned how to reach out to her. Or because he tries and is unable to. The writers don't seem to understand that though, they think the tragedy is about Azula bringing it all on herself, and not the inherent tragedy of a fourteen year old girl being unable to be saved.
The set up is right there too, because number one avatar is about balance. So, wouldn't the true ending be finding balance between the siblings, not having Zuko rise and Azula fall. Number two, Azula being alone and friendless because of her own actions is again a parallel to where Zuko was in early season 2 at his lowest point. Except Zuko can be the better person in this situation by reaching out to her.
Zuko doesn't break the golden child / scapegoat dynamic, he just flips it so now he's the success and Azula is the failure.
While Azula's fall comes from cruelty and rejection from friends and allies it is Zuko's humility and kindness and friendship that ultimately wins the day. Him sacrifcing herself for Katara and her bringing Azula down and then her healing him.
Azula ending up imprisoned isn't something happening to a real person, it's a deliberative narrative choice by the author to say something about how people like this isolate themselves and end up alone. "
As I've stated above, I'm not saying Azula didn't deserve to take a fall. Her fall is actually set up from the first moment she met Ty lee. However, there's no set up for her fall being permanent.
Azula's given way more humanizing moments than characters like Terra or even Dabi. Which is why Azula being in an insane asylum for the rest of her life doesn't fit as an ending at all.
Azula is one link in the chain of abuse. Her father only gives out affection in regards to her usefulness. No matter what Azula is an asset first and a daughter second. Azula then repeats the cycle and treats her friends the same way. She has been shown through an improper model of parenting of using fear to dominate others with power and control and she replicates that in her other relationships.
Therefore, Ty lee and Mai leaving her is not only deserved, it's the perfect opportunity to pull the rug underneath Azula and to show her that her understanding of how relationships work is completely wrong.
This also mirrors Zuko's arc, because part of Zuko's arc is realizing just how wrong Ozai is for making both children earn his love, and that he doesn't need to measure his self-worth based upon his father's approval. He also learns about healthy expressions of trust and friendship from the gang.
Azula loses in part due to her own inability to form healthy relationships is losing people rapid fire, her brother leaves and joins the enemy side, Mai and Ty Lee betray her in favor of her brother, then her father in one action of leaving Azula behind and throws the title of Firelord to her after it's become completely meaningless reminds her of her place. Azula learns in about five episodes what Zuko had in 3.5 seasons to process that her father's love was always conditional and no matter what she did she would never truly "earn it."
People leaving Azula isn't exactly the problem, the problem is that Azula ends up alone permanently without being given the same chance that Zuko is. Terra, and Toya both get opportunities to turn back. They both refuse the hand that's reaching out to him. Mai and Ty Lee leaving is caused by Azula's own choices, but her ultimate end isn't. She's not even given the chance to turn away being saved like Terra and Toya do because Zuko doesn't even bother to try saving her. Her ending is not entirely brought about by her own choices, because the writers need her to take a fall to uplift Zuko.
Azula ending up imprisoned isn't something happening to a real person, it's a deliberative narrative choice by the author to say something about how people like this isolate themselves and end up alone.
I think once again it comes from the author's misunderstanding things because they don't want to look at the story from Azula's perspective, only Zuko's.
Stay at Home almost had it when he said the tragedy of Zuko and Azula was there to show how two different parenting styles affected these children.
The tragedy is that Zuko and Azula started in the same place, but Zuko had persistent guidance and someone who modeled for him a healthy kind of love. The difference is that Azula has never experienced any kind of healthy love or support on the level Zuko has, so she models all her relationships on the way her father treats her. It's not that Azula is offered some chance for change and rejects it, it's that Azula isn't even aware of the fact that there's another way because no one is there to show it to her.
Which is why I said once again, Zuko being the first one to show Azula the lessons he himself was shown by Iroh is such a natural place for his character to end.
Azula also even while completely alone and with no idea what healthy love is, knows that there is something wrong with her and is troubled by that fact in a way Dabi and Terra aren't.
Azula: I can sit here and complain about how our mom liked Zuko more than me. But I don't really care. My own mother... thoguht I was a monster... She was right of course, but it still hurt.
Then there's the famous mirror scene:
Ursa: I didn't want to miss my own daughter's coronation.
Azula:Don't pretend to act proud. I know what you really think of me. You think I'm a monster.
Ursa: think you're confused. All your life you used fear to control people, like your friends Mai and Ty Lee.
Azula: Well what choice do I have?! Trust is for fools. Fear is the only reliable way. Even you fear me.
Ursa: No. I love you, Azula. I do.
Both of these scenes indicate that Azula thinks of herself as a monster and is deeply uncomfortable with the idea. Considering Ursa is a voice in Azula's head and not a ghost, it also shows on some level Azula knew what she did to Mai and Ty Lee was wrong and feels conflicted over it.
Once again she's much more in conflict with herself than Toya and Terror ever are, and who's someone who's constantly warring with himself? Who's someone who could help resolve her inner conflict... Zuko (too bad the way the show's written he never does).
Azula doesn't choose to self-destruct the way that Terra and Toya did. Azula's ending isn't brought about by her choice not to change, because she's never given the chance to change in the first place. Her tragic ending would make sense if it was entirely of her own choices, but Azula doesn't retain her agency in the end it's literally taken away from her. She loses control of her mind, and her ending is being chained to a grate screaming and then thrown into an asylum.
I'm not arguing against Azula's ending because she's my favorite character and I don't want bad things to happen to her. It's because her tragedy isn't about her it's about Zuko, and her ending actively takes agency away from her where at least Toya and Terra both retain their agency up until the end. It's not good writing because the tragedy doesn't fit in with the rest of the story which is about balance and healing - and it's also ableist as hell.
THE UGLY
Azula's ending is unfitting to the tone of the story she's in, makes her and Zuko's arcs feel incomplete, and also is ableist as hell.
Here's yet more evidence that Azula's tragic ending is poorly thought out. Azula's mental breakdown doesn't exist in service of her character, but Zuko's.
Azula's issues pop up out of nowhere after episode 15, and take place over the last 6 episode of the series. The idea of Azula having a mental breakdown isn't necessarily a bad concept, but it's executed poorly.
The first way it's executed poorly is just how rushed it is. There's basically no hints of any mental instability beforehand. Of course people can have mental breakdowns spontaenously like that in real life, but this is a story and stories require foreshadowing. Azula spontaneously developing mental issues doesn't feel like it's planned as a part of an arc. First off, because the writers don't seem too sure about what Azula's symptoms even are. Hallucination, paranoia, manic laughter, but apparently she's still able to bend lightning just fine. Secondly, the writer's intentions for giving Azula a mental breakdown are pretty transparent.
The writer's room needed to come up with a believable reason why Zuko would suddenly be able to fight on equal terms with Azula, so boom sudden mental illness. The intent was not to create a sympathetic portrayal of a young girl struggling with both paranoia and delusions. The intent was to nerf Azula because they couldn't think of any other way this plot could end, other than Zuko and Azula fighting in a denny's parkinglot.
As I said they use mental illness as a plot device to take Azula's agency and choices away from her. It's not done with the intention of humanizing her, and in fact except for one small scene with her talking to her mother in the mirror it's a pretty negative and unsympathetic portrayal of mental illness. Not because the writers hate mentally ill people, but because they needed Azula to have a mental breakdown in order for a plot point to happen. Which is why they didn't think of the potential implciations of such a writing choice at all.
Now, people are going to argue about me so I'll use one final example. Azula's ending may be controversial but it's universally agreed upon that the Game of Thrones Ending was bad, right?
Game of Thrones uses mental illness as the exact same plot device, to explain why Daenerys Targaryen turns from a hero to villain in the last few episodes with absolutely no foreshadowing. In fact, the all of the show director's interviews about that choice are just blatantly ableist.
Rant from @hamliet
This quote is (likely unintentionally) gaslighting, ableist, terrible logically, and downright offensive.
First, ableism: why, why, why are we conflating madness with evil? She was driven to madness so she killed a bunch of people and had to be put down? And you think this is a great message in the year of our Lord 2019? [...] Additionally, while good writing is to an extent subjective, there are general consensuses on what make good writing--and Game of Thrones hit all the general consensuses for bad writing, from bad pacing to confusing character assassination. Critics are like, pretty united on this front. No one thought Dany’s turn made sense, even the ones who expect Mad Queen in the books. Maybe if people love a character who is meant to be evil you're not writing them correctly... or maybe they aren't meant to be evil.
Daenerys and Azula are incredibly similiar characters. They're both dragon themed, alligned with the element of fire, they're both colonizers they both represent the warrior princess archetype.
I'd say Daenerys is more of a tragic heroine though, because while Danerys is essentially doing the same thing as Azula, waging war in a foreign land and a culture that's not hers, for the purpose of then bringing back soldiers to her home continent so she can wage war again - while she is definitely a war mongerer she has good intentions. Daenerys for all of her faults, genuinely wants to break the chains and help out people.
I think Azula definitely sees herself as the hero for winning the war for the fire nation's sake, but she's completely uncritical of her own culture and she doesn't really have the good intentions that Dany has. She does it more out of a sense of duty, and her belief of divine right, not because she wants to break people free.
Daenerys's problem is that she doesn't understand the culture she's invading and the complicated world she lives in and despite all good intentions, is as I described above, invading a foreign power so she can go back and wage a war to reclaim the throne. Even if Daenerys would then proceed to go on to be the bestest queen ever that wouldn't change the fact her methods to get to the throne were incredibly violent, and she's sort of failing to break free from the cycle that led the Targeryen rule to fail in the first place.
Azula's problem is she sees herself as the hero and is therefore uncritical of fire nation values. She doesn't have any nobler intentions either other than service to her country, she just like Zuko is just trying to fulfill her duties as daughter and believe her birthright puts her above others. (I mean Dany does too but digressing).
Azula's more of a tragic villain who plays the antagonist role in the story, Danerys is one of the three heroes. However, she's more of a tragic villain in the sense that she's first season zuko pre character development just way more competent.
However, while Daenerys is a much more heroic character than Azula, here's the thing. I still think she's going to die. She is foreshadowed pretty heavily to die, and fail for her quest for the throne, because her entire story is a deconstruction of the warrior princess and the liberator archetype.
However, the story that GRRM is building throughout his books with Dany as an incredibly flawed heroine is different from what we got in the show, which was Daenerys going crazy and starting to murder people. That's because Daenerys turn to darkness wasn't about her character at all, it was just making her into a plot device to move their bad idea for a plot forward. That's why the turn is so unnatural and makes little sense with her character, that's why it's so rushed.
That's also why it's ableist, because it's using mental illness as a plot device to make a character unsympathetic and monstrous and give the other characters a reason to put them down.
The same for Azula, outside of one scene where he's talking to her mother, Azula's mental illness manifests in her screaming, maniacally laughing, looking like the joker did her makeup, and her instability also makes her violent and dangerous to be around. (Ignoring the fact that most people who experience delusions in real life are harmless, and more likely to be the victims of violence).
Her sudden mental illness isn't even used to make her more sympathetic in say Zuko's eyes and make him realize she's a victim, no it's just there to nerf her so she can be violently put down. The way she's drawn, the way she acts, it's to paint her as monstrous as possible. Her last action is like sobbing and screaming while being drawn as ugly as possible. She's not even given a small hope for recovery, because it just ends there. That's a pretty great message to send people that experience delusions, not only will you not recover or be shown sympathy, you'll also get sent to a mental asylum for the rest of your life. The choice for both Azula and Dany is not to portray any kind of mental illness in a respectful way, but to make a plot point happen.
As I said I expect Dany to die in the books, but there's a difference between dying as a tragic hero succumbing to your flaws but still having your good intentions acknowledged and just turning into a villain for no reason and being put down like a rabid dog.
(This is a quote I stole from a Shigaraki post but): "Why does she need to be put down in the first place, she has trauma, not rabies."
The problem isn't bad thing happened to my favorite character, the problem with the ending is it doesn't take Dany's setup into consideration.
Stealing from @hamliet again:
The thing about tragedies is that you have to manage expectations and clearly show that your tragic hero is doomed from the very early on–ie you have to show them making steadily worse and worse decisions (see: Eren Jaeger in SnK), if not directly tell your audience at the very beginning that this is a tragic story (ie see Greek choruses and Shakespeare, the prequels from Star Wars because everyone knows Anakin is Vader–plus I’d argue Anakin’s arc only works because we know he comes back to the light in the end.
Audiences don’t like reversing on set up/undoing structure. To make Dany a tragic villain is to go against the structure of her arc in both show and book. That’s why people don’t like it, even if the books makes it seem more believable.
Kate then goes onto describe a character that's much more comparable to Azula's. Honestly Arianne is closer to Azula than Daenerys is.
You know who is set up as a tragic heroine destined to descend and die because of her flaws in the books, whose arc has almost certainly been combined with Dany’s in some sense in the show?
Arianne Martell. (and another character known as f!Aegon)
In the books, Arianne is incredibly ambitious, and especially resents her brother and his quest for power. Like Margaery (another tragic character), Arianne seeks power and is intelligent and manipulative in her quest for it. But Margaery’s fatal mistake is that in seeking power and prestige, she’s become more a pawn than anything else for a villain (Cersei). She chose to play with lions, and she’ll be torn apart; that’s not surprising. Arianne, as her chapters hint, is going to almost certainly marry f!Aegon, playing with fire, and die burning for it.
Arianne’s grasping for her own power is never portrayed as cruel or stupid like the main human villain (Cersei); on the contrary, we empathize with a girl who truly cares about her people, but resents her father’s preferential treatment towards her brother. That’s the difference between Arianne and Cersei: Arianne cares. She is not cruel. But her pride is still going to get her killed.
There's a lot of game of throne females you could compare Azula to because GOT is full of queens, but like. Azula may be a tragic villain firmly on the side of the antagonists but she's not Cerseie. She's not queen, she doesn't wield the power that Cersei wields. In fact one of Azula's downfalls is finding out she doesn't have as much power as she thought she had, and ultimately was just a tool of her fathers.
She's not Rhaenyra or Alicent, because yes she may be grabbing for power but her character isn't affected by misogyny. Because once again, the writers simply didn't think about misogyny except for a really surface level "girls can be just as strong as boys" way so we really have no idea how women are seen in the fire nation. The show doesn't really explore if being a woman makes things harder, or makes people treat her differently than Zuko because the writers just didn't consider Azula's perspcetive on that matter.
Azula is alike to Danaerys in several ways, but as I said I think her ultimate end comes from Azula understimating her own importance in her father's eyes, and quickly realizing when her father is her only family left she never had his love or loyalty in the first place.
But Margaery’s fatal mistake is that in seeking power and prestige, she’s become more a pawn than anything else for a villain (Cersei). She chose to play with lions, and she’ll be torn apart; that’s not surprising.
Azula's most famous quote is about how Long Feng isn't even a player, only to find out her father considered her a pawn from the beginning and be broken by the revelation.
The difference being of course that Avatar is not Game of Thrones and it won't even kill the evil fascist dictator so it doesn't make a lot of sense to hand Azula the ending that Arianne got. They have the same fatal flaw.
Anyway, I made this big post but I can explain why Azula's tragic ending down't work in one sentence.
AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER IS NOT A TRAGEDY.
Maybe the reason Azula should get redeemed is because THE SHOW IS ABOUT F&%CKING REDEMPTION.
#bnha meta#mha meta#atla meta#azula meta#azula#princess azula#dabi#toya todoroki#shoto todoroki#azula redemption
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Sugar daddy Simon x OC
Ghost was sat in a room with his team while they were being debriefed about their next mission. His attention was dragged away from his captain speaking once he felt his phone vibrate insistently in his pocket. He pulls it out, already irritated at the interruption and ready to hang up when he sees the contact name. Shym. Ah, hell. He can never resist shym is his only real weakness.
He excused himself and stepped out into the hallway where he answered the call. “ Hey, sugar. “
He leaned back against the cold wall. He missed her so much, it’s been a while now since they were last together. He wanted nothing more than to see her face even if it’s through the phone. That’s why he never let her send him pictures, in case he lost his phone. “ I’m sorry for not calling earlier.” He said lowly, his English accent slightly thick now with his tiredness.
“It’s fine Simon, never apologize for keeping the world safe.” I laughed
That’s the reason why he loved her so much. Even though she doesn’t know what he does she still understood and respected it. She never pushed him for answers, never nagged him while he was gone and was still by his side when he had his bad days. He chuckled lowly. “ Have you been behaving? “ He asked with a teasing smirk.
“Hmmm, give me an example?”
His smirk widened. He could practically see her pout through his phone and just the image of it made his chest feel tight. “ Have you been taking care of yourself, eating and sleeping well? I haven’t been there to make you. “ He replied.
“I’m doing amazing, the girls are going shopping today, sort of challenge but I’m not participating.”
He hummed and crossed one foot over the other. He hated hearing about her being with the girls, especially when he knew how rowdy they got. Just imagining her in a club or bar with drunk men circling her made that possessive feeling in his chest grow. “ Oh yeah. And why aren’t you going?” He asked, his voice a bit lower.
“They have this challenge, ask their partners for a creditcard and go on a shopping spree.”
He raised a brow at that. He wasn’t surprised that those girls came up with something like that, but the thought of Shym doing it rubbed him the wrong way. “ And you’re staying home because you know I’d never give you my credit card. “ He mumbled.
“No not at all, ofcourse I need some new clothes, want to look all dolled up for you when your back, but I should do that with my own money.” I mumbled
That made him freeze. Now he imagined her dressed up pretty for him and it sent a flare of want and need to his chest. He clenched his jaw and shifted on his feet, trying to ignore the thoughts that suddenly filled his mind. “ Don’t worry about looking dolled up for me. “ He muttered in a tight voice. “ I’d rather take the clothes off of you anyways. “
“Some new lingerie would help with that won’t it? Change of scenery” I whispered
He bit back a curse at her words, trying to keep his voice steady. “ And why is it that you want that all of a sudden. “ He said, even though he already knew the answer. The images filling his mind were sending a slow wave of heat through his body, his eyes fluttering shut.
“Oh baby, haven’t you forgot that the knife play you do torn a lot of my lingerie and clothes” bastard I thought
A smirk tugged at his lips. He knew she was a bit miffed about him damaging her clothes and lingerie. But that just made him smile more. “ I’ve noticed you complaining about it too. “ He stated, keeping his tone calm. But he couldn’t help but tease her a bit, his voice lowering into a low whisper. “ But when it’s happening you don’t really protest now do you?”
He could practically her blush through the phone at that tease, his smirk growing more now. His hand moved up to the back of his neck and rubbed it absently. She was too easy to tease sometimes. “ You like it don’t you, sugar. “ He said, his voice coming out more rough now. He couldn’t stop the images that filled his mind as he spoke, they were starting to effect him too now.
“ You like when I leave marks all over you. “ He continued quietly. “ Leaving you all bitten and bruised in the shape of my hands. “ He knew they were both getting effected by his words. He could hear her breath hitch slightly on the other line and it made his pants tighten in response, biting his lip under his mask.
“ You don’t complain when I rip through your clothes to touch your body. “ He said, his voice barely a whisper now from the huskiness of his voice. He wasn’t sure he could stop the words even if he wanted to. Her soft breaths against the phone was making his chest tighten with need. “ When I use my knife to- “ he stopped himself before his voice got too ragged.
“Amex gold in the 3rd drawer, buy some nice stuff.” He said out of no where
Ghost froze, his mind momentarily distracted from his own lust and his smirk faltered slightly. Was he really giving her his credit card? He didn’t have to. She certainly didn’t need it. But when he thought about it, his eyes darkened. The thought of her buying something with his money and wearing it had his blood heating. He took a slow breath in, trying to push down the possessive feeling in his chest.
“ Are you sure about that sugar? “ He muttered, moving his hand to his jaw and rubbing the skin there. He knew he should be telling her no. But that damn possessiveness he had was making him hard to think clearly. He wanted her in his clothes and in his things.
A grin formed on my face “I’ll make sure I’ll look perfect when you come back.”
A shiver went down his spine at her soft reply. He could practically see that cheeky grin on her face. And he hated the fact the the thought of her in anything of his was making him needy and wanting. She was going to be the death of him. “ Don’t tease me, sugar. “ He muttered, his voice coming out as a near growl.
I laughed “go back to your debrief baby, I’ll talk to you soon.”
Ghost couldn’t keep the grumble from leaving his throat as she ended the call. He was going to be useless in the debrief now. His mind had now been filled with the image of her buying clothes with his credit card. It was almost like she did this on purpose. He put his phone away and took a moment to compose himself before heading back to his debrief.
He was definitely turned on. But he tried to force it down as he walked back into the room. His captain picked up the conversation but he barely even heard it. His mind was filled with thoughts of Shym spending his money, wearing his clothes. It was driving him insane thinking of it.
And I went crazy on my shopping, but kept it on a limit. 5k max, the poor man’s credit shouldn’t become a issue in the future.
I got a facial, new hairstyle, shoes, clothes, makeup and the cherry on top expensive lingerie.
Despite only having a limit on the credit card, it didn’t take long for the charges to appear on his account with every purchase she made.
He groaned when he pulled out his phone to check his credit card usage and saw all the transactions. 5k was gone within an a few hours. But he couldn’t deny that he liked it. She was using his money and buying things they both would enjoy. He bit his lip as he checked how much he had left and decided it wasn’t a problem. He could just ask for an increase if he really needed to.
But the fact that she had just spent 5k on makeup, shoes etc. made him smirk. His mind immediately went to imagining the amount of things she would buy with a higher limit. But he couldn’t let himself dwell on that at the moment. He had a meeting to go to and his captain would notice his distracted state if he didn’t compose himself quickly.
That evening he FaceTimed me, still with his mask on and getting ready for bed, we had a little timezone difference as I was in New York and he was in Chile on a mission
“Enjoying the summer weather right now in chile?”
He was in the room they gave him for the mission. He had just finished changing into some clean clothes after a long debrief and was just sitting down on his bed, checking his phone. He chuckled at her words and leaned back, laying against the headboard. “ You could say that. “ He replied as he shifted on his bed, getting comfortable. “ The heat wave has been a pain to deal with while in the field. “
I scoffed “English lads cannot deal with shite, when can I finally take you to my parents in the Seychelles without complaints?”
He rolled his eyes as she teased him, knowing full well that he absolutely hated the heat. It was ironic given that the first place she wanted him to go to was to her parent’s villa in the hottest place in the world. “ Never. “ He replied. “ Can your parents even handle me, sweetheart? “ He shot back teasingly.
He could tell by her expression that she was pouting at his response. He chuckled at that and felt a pang of wanting in his chest. He missed her face. “ Stop pouting love. “ He chastised, his voice quieter now. “ Can’t believe you’d rather take me to a hot sunny island than a cold snowy one. “
“You want exotic, you get exotic!” I exclaimed. “Wait let me turn on my camera, look at my hair!”
He groaned in response, already knowing that she was just taking the piss now. “ exotic huh? “ He retorted, shaking his head in fake disappointment as he watched her turn on her camera. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the new look, his eyes darkening as he took in the new colour. “ Well… looks good. “ He said, his voice coming out a bit strangled.
His pupils dilated quickly, his hands clenching into the sheets. He didn’t expect her to do that so suddenly. “ Christ… “ He mumbled, his voice coming out in a rough whisper. “ You’re cheeky… “ he said, his tone slightly scolding as he swallowed hard.
He could feel himself growing hard from the brief view and he growled softly in frustration. “ Shouldn’t have done that when I’m not there to touch you sugar. “ He hissed, his grip getting tighter on the bedsheets.
I started to touch my bra “means you need to come back fast.”
His eyes followed your hands as you started to touch your bra. He wanted to touch it. “ You’re not making it easy. “ He grumbled, shifting on the bed and grabbing his mask. “ You’re being naughty when I can’t even touch you. “
He pulled his mask off and raked a hand through his hair, trying to push back the lust building in his body. His eyes were dark as he looked at her. “ You’re being extra cheeky, sugar. “ He said, his voice sounding more rough now.
“Send more cash and I’ll behave..” I laughed
He cursed silently in his mind when she said that. He hated how damn easy she could rile him up, and even more how easily she could get him to cave to her demands. He didn’t even hesitate before he quickly logged into his app and transferred more money.
He wasn’t even sure how much he sent as he was too hasty in giving in to her. The second it was transferred, he looked back up at her, his eyes darker than before. “ Should I send more. “ He growled, his voice coming out as huskier than usual.
I smiled and let me camera see my thighs, red pantie with gold chain on my belly “maybe..”
His breath hitched at the sight of her thighs and the red panties. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to try and compose himself. But it didn’t really help. “ You’re going to drive me insane… “ He muttered, his voice coming out as a low growl. “ I bet you bought them with my card as well.”
“All for you baby, you know I’m your sugar.” I whispered
He felt his chest twist at that and his eyes darkened further. “ Too damn sweet for me. “ He grumbled, his gaze roaming over all the exposed skin on the screen.” When I come back I swear I’ll leave your skin bruised.”
He felt the possessive feeling grow in his chest. This wasn’t fair. She was thousands of miles away and he couldn’t even touch her. “ Teasing me when I’m not able to even hold you. “ He growled as he stared at her. “ You’re going to be the death of me, sugar.”
My hands traveled over my belly towards the rim of my panties
His eyes immediately followed the movement of her hands towards her panties and his breath hitched again. He bit his lip, trying to control himself but failing miserably. “ Jesus Christ… “ He muttered, his eyes glued to the screen.
“Can I touch myself for you si?”
He growled when she asked that, his eyes darkening even more. “ Christ…. “ He was struggling to keep his voice in control now, his chest tightening. “ You want to touch yourself for me, sugar? “ He asked, his voice coming out as a gruff whisper.
He ran a hand down his chest, wanting the touch her so badly it was driving up insane. “ Do it. “ He said, his tone commanding now
He leant back against the headboard, getting comfortable as he watched her intently. “ I wish to Christ you were here in front of me. “ He bit out, his voice coming out as a huff.
My finger making circles, aroused, in need of touch, arched back. He saw it all “I miss you too baby.. but I can’t stay dry forever.”
His breath hitched at the sight before him, his mind starting to race at the sight of her arching back. “ God you’re beautiful.” He choked out, his voice strained as he watched her. “ Keep taking your time… I want to watch every movement you make.”
I started to whimper “send some more money baby I’ll give the best show you want..”
He groaned at the sound of her whine but wasted no time sending more money. “ How much more do you want, sugar. “ He growled out, his eyes glued to the screen, watching her movements.
“Make it… it… 1k” I whimpered
He grunted but obliged, sending the money immediately. “ You’re getting spoiled. “ He muttered as he watched her on the screen. “ But goddamn do I like spoiling you.”
He shifted on the bed, his sweatpants starting to get tight with his growing need. His eyes were fixated on her, his hands clenching the sheets tightly. “ Keep going.. “ He encouraged, his voice coming out as a ragged whisper.
He ached to be the one touching her instead of her own hands. His chest felt tight with want as he watched her movements on the screen. “ Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He asked, his voice coming out in a low growl.
“I’m thinking about you, how you should be ripping my clothes now..”
He growled at her words, his eyes darkening even more with possessiveness. “ Goddamn it… Wish I was there to rip those new clothes to shreds. “ He muttered, his grip on the sheets getting tighter.
He shifted slightly on the bed again, his body feeling like it was on fire. “ You wearing anything that’s mine sugar? “ He asked, his voice coming out huskier than normal.
I kept circling and showed my new heels, clear glass and high “I hope you like them..” I started to moan as I became wetter
He growled softly when she showed him the heels. “ I like all the things you bought with my card. “ He said, his gaze darkening as he watched her move. “ But your new moans are the best thing you’ve gotten with my money so far.”
“It’s VIP..” I started to arch again and it became intense “si…”
He groaned at her arching, feeling himself straining in his pants. “ God… “ He muttered out, his body feeling like it was on fire from desire. “ You’re being extra needy when I’m away. “ He said, his voice coming out as a rough grumble.
“I can’t hold it any longer..” I moaned
He felt the need to touch her growing stronger as he watched her on the screen. “ Don’t hold it anymore.” He ordered, his voice coming out as a ragged whisper. “ I want to watch you….”
And I released, I felt hazy hands wet and sticky from myself
He inhaled deeply at the sight of her release, his body feeling like it was burning with need. He wanted to touch her so badly. “ Christ… “ He muttered as he watched her, his eyes darkening further.
He shifted again on the bed, trying to get some relief from the tightness in his pants. “ I wish I was the one giving you that cum. “ he growled out, his voice ragged. “ Goddamn it… “
He clenched the sheets tightly, his body feeling like it was being consumed by her. “ You look so goddamn beautiful when you come. “ He choked out. His eyes were glued to the screen, taking in every movement she made. “
You make me want to break opsec and come home so bad. “ He growled softly, his body feeling like it was on fire.
“Then make sure those enemies are dead in no time. Now go focus on your job I’m tired baby..”
He nodded, reluctantly agreeing with her. “ Fine. “ He huffed out, his body still feeling like it was on fire from desire. “ Get some sleep sugar, I’ll finish up and be home soon. “ He said, his tone coming out gruff and rough.
“Will do Simon, I love you and stay safe..” I gave a kiss trough the camera
He chuckled softly when she gave him a kiss through the camera. “ Love you too, baby. “ He returned the kiss with one of his own. “ I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? “ He said, his tone still sounding a bit rough, but softer now.
He looked at her for a moment, his eyes softening. “ Sweet dreams, okay? “ He said before reluctantly ending the call, his body still feeling like it was on fire with need.
#ghost cod#simon ghost riley#cod modern warfare#cod mw2#modern warfare#simon ghost x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#simon riley#codcanon#cod 141#cod imagine#cod#modern warefare 2 x reader#dead dove do not eat
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Birthday happenings. (Yandere Assistant x GN!Reader.)
Masterlist
Synopsis: Your mother, the Queen, never cared for your birthday. But someone else does. And they use it to their advantage. Also my belated birthday post :3
Siolis Ludenhart x GN!Reader.
You are the Queen’s only legitimate offspring. The only legitimate heir to the throne. Your mother is the honorable Queen Nia, who wanted nothing to do with you when you were born, neglecting your every need. Never had she attempted to engage in a conversation with you willingly. Queen Nia hated her mortality, and you were the biggest proof of it. She grows old and you just keep growing. The young heir has to replace the old hag of a queen eventually, and Nia hates the very thought. Your mother only ever held you once, during your birth. Nia then shoved you to the nanny she hired to essentially become your new mother.
None of your birthdays was celebrated by your mother, by the servants of the palace sure, but never Nia. She would always plan elaborate big parties in honor of her birthday, they’ve essentially become tradition at this point but you… Well, you got the scraps, you always got a small cake from the palace kitchen, a few tiny gifts from the servants, and a small party without anyone of your age, only your nanny and some of the palace staff.
Today was terribly dull, everyone’s busy getting the palace ready for some diplomat meeting, who cares really? You were trapped in your room to ‘not get in the way’ as your mother said. You tried everything for entertainment, books, hobbies, and devices, it all was boring. You never really believed in the gods but still begged for a chance to do something fun. Just as you finish pleading to the skies you hear a knock from the door. Probably lunch, that was late.
Standing up from your bed you let out a groan, opening the door you’re met with the very person you were most excited to see. Siolis. Ever since they’ve started working for your mother they plan something extravagant for you to experience. The first year of this was your 20th, you didn’t know each other well yet but they still did something, they had gotten you a big birthday cake and a jewelry box with the most gorgeous set of jewelry with gems and all. When you asked them how they could afford something like that and why they would do that for someone they barely knew, they said, “Don’t worry your little head about it.”
You smiled widely, “Sio! Oh! what do we have on the schedule today? We have to be quick or else we’ll miss my curfew.” This time Siolis looked more relaxed, they, for once, had a smile on their face. Siolis wore a poofy button-down shirt and high-waisted black pants that hugged their slim waist perfectly, something casual for them. Sio’s smile is beautiful, even if it’s soft and barely there, you can see the softness in their eyes, the care they hold for you is clear in their expression.
Siolis stepped forward, pushing you back into your room gently by the shoulders, they closed the door behind them. “Shh, keep quiet for me, okay? We’re not going to come back by the curfew. No one knows I’m here. I took the day off.” You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, Siolis doesn’t take days off. Probably because no one knows what to do without Siolis there to help them.
Siolis grabbed your arm, leading you to the balcony connected to your room, “What? Why? Are we not doing something today?” You throw questions to Siolis as the wind gusts at the both of you. Siolis smirked slyly as they leaned against the balcony railing. “Do you trust me, dear?” That dear was new! You flushed, with Siolis’ beauty and soft clear voice and that little nickname you almost fainted.
You hugged yourself, the windy current making you shiver. Siolis stared at you as you nodded yes, well of course you’d trust them. Siolis made sure you would, Sio made sure you fell in love with them in general, and by how flustered you looked it worked. “Then come here, hug me.” They announced, their arms wide open waiting for someone to inhibit them. Slight shock aside, you hugged them nonetheless, maybe they’re going through something and need your support!
You were wrong, the moment you stepped into their arms you felt dizzy and nauseous. It felt like your body was moving at unimaginable speeds, it felt like your brain was far behind your physical body, trying to catch up. And then it all stops, all the overwhelming movement ends, you’re still dizzy and your legs feel incredibly weak. A hand rubbed your back affectionately, while the other held you, hand tight around your midsection.
“I’m sorry, my dear, that was so sudden now, wasn’t it? How adorable you are.” The voice that spoke to you was so enchanting, you felt yourself calm down, the panic subsiding and making way for the feeling of serenity. You hadn’t felt so at peace in so long, it was like you were born again.
Siolis kept you up, as they leaned against the alleyway’s dirty wall, petting you and calling you affectionate names. They can see that probing your mind and making you feel calmer is helping you recover from their magic's travel speed. Siolis always appreciated their magic, but now they thank whatever god who blessed them with said magic as they watch you subsequently drool all over them from the lack of cognitive control.
Eventually, they let go of their grasp on your brain, making sure you feel completely fine before doing so. You blink once, twice, thrice, looking around you were… in an alleyway? And you were leaning on something sturdy. Looking up, you saw a smug Siolis, smirking down at you with their arms around your waist. You pushed away from them, and they let you out of their grasp. For now.
You begin to panic, “W-Where are we? Ho-how did we get here?” Questions frantically run out of your mouth, it was cute. Your panic and fear. Letting out a breath of contentment Siolis walked closer to you, grabbing your arms they looked at you in the eyes, their purple eyes looked so calm, “We are at a carnival. We got here using my magic. And this is going to be your birthday celebration.” Siolis put on a big smile before letting you go and holding their hand out, ready to guide you to wherever they’re going.
Just then a strange feeling of tranquility washed over you. Why worry? Why panic? Siolis is there to help you through it all after all, they’re your closest friend. You smiled, taking their hand in yours. Their hands were so nice and warm, you shuffled closer to them on instinct. Siolis smiled down at you, before leading you out of the alley and into the busy carnival. “Now let’s get going, today’s going to be a very long day with many activities.”
Siolis loves you. They’ve been in love with the enigma that is you since the first birthday they’ve spent with you. The way your eyes twinkle under the sun, your smile that shines stronger than stars, the very fact you take your royal responsibilities seriously is what had them. Since then, they’ve been planting seeds of doubt. Why stay in the palace if your mother hates you? Why stay when you yearn strongly for the outside world? Why stay when you can be with them.
They subtly mention the idea of moving out every now and then as you two celebrate your 22nd together. Siolis would mention how this day felt so freeing, how nice it was to leave that blasted palace, if you ever move out how this could be your average day-to-day, and you’d space off after those comments, contemplating everything they’ve said. Siolis is sure you’d accept their offer, they know your every thought after all.
Tonight was spectacular. Possibly the best birthday you’ve had ever! You spent most of the day playing the games available at the carnival, ate tons of food that’s probably bad for you, and bought a lot of little cute trinkets and accessories, it really was amazing for you! “Oh let’s go play that one! I want the panda plushie!” You exclaim, pointing at another challenge type of game. Siolis chuckled, their home is probably full of stuffed animals that the two of you won and Siolis immediately teleported back home. “Whoever wins first chooses the next thing we eat.” Sio challenged, “Oh we’ll see, sucka!” You retort.
Meanwhile, the royal palace is in disarray. Everyone panics as they look for the Queen’s only child, who is at the time deemed missing and possibly kidnapped, in fact there wasn’t a single trace of your existence. A bunch of your portraits had gone up in flames one random hour which caused the search for the heir to begin with. The public don’t know what you look like, and the people who do are very few inbetween. It was like you never existed.
The queen didn’t seem very affected by the news. You were always a nuisance to her, always searching for her, vying for her attention, blabbing day in and day out whenever she was free. But still, she needed to find you, or else she’d have to get another heir. Though she can;t get this horrible feeling out of her chest. A feeling of remorse and guilt, something she was never familiar with. Nia’s heart felt heavy as she looked out to the carnival going on outside, little did she know.
As the day turned into night, and the carnival started closing down, you and Siolis were perched on a bench outside of the carnival. You were concentrating on eating the ice cream Siolis bought as quickly as possible to get home before anyone noticed your disappearance. Siolis couldn’t help but admire you, so attractive even in the dark of night, but they couldn’t admire you for too long as a pair of uniformed officers approached the two of you.
Ah, Siolis knows these two, they’re always together during shifts and hang around the Queen. Looks like they finally realized you weren’t home all along. They saw you tense upon seeing them, grasping your hand in theirs they gave you a look of reassurance. Siolis bowed their head slightly while they bowed deeply when the two realized it was the Chief Assistant Siolis. “Good evening, Chief Assistant,” Siolis nodded in greeting. “There is a situation in the palace, the he-” And just then a yelp escapes you, followed by many groans of pain.
Just as the officer began speaking a loud booming screech erupted within your eardrums, you dropped your beloved ice cream as you clutched at your head. You couldn’t hear a thing, not the grunts and groans you’ve been letting out, not the officers asking if you were okay, and not Siolis telling them to leave the two of you alone so they can help you. And then, it all stopped. The ringing, the pain. All of it just randomly stopped.
You cracked your eyes open, looking up at the concerned Sio hovering above you, “-ou okay?!” Oh thank god you can still hear, you look around, and the officers are nowhere to be seen, “I- I don’t know? It stopped so suddenly I-I don’t know what that was… I’m sorry, did I make you worry?” Siolis put up a soft smile, “Should get you to a doctor tomorrow, hm?”
What you didn’t know was that the agonizing pain was Siolis’ doing. They knew that the palace was a mess looking for the missing heir, so when Siolis saw the officers moving towards you two they had slightly changed the way you look to the officer’s eyes. No one knows that the heir they’re looking so desperately for is right under their nose, and it pleases Siolis. They didn’t want you to hear what the officers were saying but it looked like Siolis had done a bit much than what was needed.
A sigh left the person standing in front of you. Looking up you saw the slightest frown on Siolis’ pretty face, what an unnatural sight. You almost have the urge to start acting like a circus clown just to cheer them up. Even after the sudden pain you just went through you cared for them. How they could just eat you up. “Something wrong, Sio?” You ask, unaware of what they’ll do. Unaware how deeply infatuated Siolis is with you
They looked so upset, it was so unlike Siolis to show any emotion at all so seeing them so upset was surprising. But it was all a ploy, to play with your emotions,To manipulate you… “I just… I don’t want this day to end so fast. I was thinking of how to prolong this day even more and… Well, I thought this foolish idea of inviting you over to my house. Like a sleepover, we can talk to one another, play games, and watch shows until dusk if we so desired. But then I realized how idiotic it would be and that of course you’d…deny me.” Siolis’ eyes full of sorrow, obviously hurt by the very thought.
You were stunned by how forward they were, and most of all, stunned that they never noticed you blushing and almost drooling at the mouth whenever they’d shamelessly flirt with you. Reject them? How ridiculous. “No! That’s a great idea! I would love to Siolis!” Hook, line, and sinker. Siolis got you, “But what about my mother? Won’t she be upset?” Siolis’ frown quickly formed into a sly grin.
“I’m sure she won’t notice, darling.”
#yandere x reader#yandere#x reader#oc x reader#yandere x darling#gn reader#gender neutral#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#tw yandere#nonbinary yandere#Yandere x reader#nb yandere#Yandere oc#Yandere oc x reader
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When They're Injured
+ Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Marco, Jean, Connie, Sasha, Levi, Erwin, Hange, Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie, Porco, Pieck, Zeke
Eren;
• He either pretends to be fine or cries like a baby, there's no in-between.
• Most of the time he doesn't even acknowledge your presence in the room. He thinks it's a waste of time watching over him.
• Tells you to grow up if he sees you crying over him.
• "I have the power of the titans, I'll be fine. Just stop your crying already, it's making me uncomfortable."
• Still thanks you for caring though, in his own little way - probably by asking you to be his sparing partner instead of actually saying thank you.
Mikasa;
• Unfazed by her own injuries and cares more about you taking care of yourself.
• Stays in bed for a day before she's back working out and doing chores, no matter how bad her injury is. You have to physically restrain her and put her back to bed (it never goes well).
• Asks if you've eaten and slept well before you get the chance to ask her.
• She's grateful for everything you do while she's recovering.
• She picks you some flowers afterwards to say thank you. She even cooks you food.
Armin;
• Upset. You console and reassure him a lot because he keeps crying about being weak.
• You read to him though, and even play chess while he recovers.
• You promise to train him some more when he's able bodied so that he feels better prepared next time.
• You bring him food but he refuses to eat it. You end up doing the "here comes the train" thing with him to force him to eat out of embarrassment.
• You brought him flowers and he loved the gesture so much that he now uses one of the dried flowers as a book mark.
Marco;
• Grateful to be alive.
• He sometimes panics and has nightmares that he's back on the field where he was injured and you have to calm him down.
• He sometimes gets annoyed at you for always being beside him because he knows you're not looking after yourself properly.
• Forces you to leave so you'll finally wash and eat.
• Jean also visits often and you all share stories about your childhoods. The duo never fail to make you laugh.
Jean;
• Dramatic. Does the whole "don't look at me, I'm hideous" thing, and refuses to let you into the room.
• You have to physically stop him from covering his face and reassure him that he's just as beautiful as before.
• He switched up real fast after that and pretended he wasn't even injured to try and impress you. He went from being a cry baby to trying to work out with a broken arm.
• You gave up trying to stop him because he wouldn't listen to anything.
• Cries when he's alone because he doesn't think he's strong enough.
Connie;
• Doesn't change a thing. He's still just as idiotic as before.
• Laughs it off. He keeps telling jokes so he won't think about it and if he's laughing then he's happy.
• Wants you by his side always, and get upset when you need to leave.
•"Y/N, I'm telling you, I'm immortal."
• He doesn't really cry, he had a few tear when he was alone, but he's more focused on training when he's better so it doesn't happen again.
• Secretly likes being injured because you're particularly nice to him.
Sasha;
• Dramatic. She thinks the worlds is going to end. Gathers you, Jean and Connie around as she says her "last goodbyes".
• It only takes you waving some meat in her face for her to snap out of it and start acting normal again.
• Sobs into your arm. She's more worried about if she'll be able to eat and hunt again than her actually injuries.
• Food works better than medicine.
Levi;
• Sleeps it off. He'll be fine the next morning.
• Hates when you baby him. Even if you're just being nice, like bringing him food, he'll think you're being condescending and gets pissed off.
• It really doesn't take long for him to recover, but Erwin orders him to take time off to be sure - you're happy Levi will always have Erwin looking out for him.
• You leave him little notes instead of actually staying with him. He smiles to himself when he sees them, he adore the little things.
Hange;
• Refuses to stay in bed. Levi knocks them out to force them into bed.
• They get bored very easy. Erwin doesn't let them work while they recover, so most days they just sit and stare at the ceiling.
• Gets a little dramatic and starts crying because they can't visit their titans. So you visit them yourself and draw them for Hange - even if you're bad at drawing, they are overjoyed.
• Cries when you bring them flowers.
Erwin;
• He's appears fine externally, has a strong mentality and is sure he'll heal in no time.
• No matter what he's still working, you have to physically pry the papers from his hands so he'll actually rest for once.
• He gets kind of annoyed at the babying. He just wants you to see that he's okay to work, but you have none of it.
• You buy him flowers and other little trinkets - like a little girl was selling knitted teddy bears, so you bought him one. He got emotional after that because he realised how much you meant to him.
Reiner;
• Goes through a crisis. He's used to being injured, but not this badly.
• It takes him a lot of willpower to not just heal it in front of you.
• Spends most night debating if it would be easier to just die.
• Some days he doesn't know who he is and acts like a soldier and others Bertholdt has to remind him that there are bigger things out there and he has to pull through so they can go home.
• On they days where he's a warrior, he pushes you away, only letting Bertholdt and Annie in the room with him.
Bertholdt;
• Pushes everyone away, aside from Reiner - not even Annie can see him like that.
• Gets unnecessarily angry. Debates just turning and finishing the mission right then and there, and he was about to when you turned up. You made his whole world stop and he just stared at you.
• He cried into your arms that night, and most nights after. He'd never felt so vulnerable. He thought you were the one who came to save him.
• You knew he was feeling better when he went back to his "synchronised sleeping," as you called it, and you'd find him with his head nearly on the floor.
Annie;
• Stoic, as per usual.
• Hates when you make a fuss.
• "It will heal. Please, give me some space."
• Doesn't push people away, just kind of distances herself. For example, she doesn't spar with people when she's feeling better, she uses a training dummy instead.
• Only happy when you're with her. She wouldn't admit it though.
• She wants you to stay, but would never go out of her way to ask you too.
Porco;
• He gets dismissive. Uses the word "whatever" like it's going out of fashion.
• You try to reassure him but he just gets defensive. "Stop it. You're acting like I'm going to die. I'll just heal overnight. You're so dramatic."
• Secretly enjoys the attention. He's not used to people willingly caring for him. He normally bullies people into following him around, but you do it out of the kindness of your heart.
• You praise him for being so brave and it makes him blush.
Pieck;
• She loves that you stay with her. She thanks you everyday.
• Holds your hand a lot.
• You talk about whatever but most of the time there's just a comfortable silence.
• For some reason, she thinks the best when she's injured. Meaning she still attends strategy meetings, but asks you to go with her for support.
Zeke;
• Refuses to stay in bed, no matter how bad the injury.
• He sleeps for about 3 hours, and heals in that time. After that he just walks around like normal, still doing his work like he wasn't floored a few hours ago.
• You barely get the time to worry about him. He appreciates the sentiment though. He likes when you worry about him, it makes him finally feel cared about.
• He does spend more time with you after that. After seeing your reaction he realised how much he actually likes you, how much he cares for you.
#aot x reader#aot#shingeki no kyojin#attack on titan#snk#levi x reader#reiner x reader#jean x reader#annie x reader#zeke x reader#eren x reader#armin x reader#mikasa x reader#connie x reader#porco x reader#pieck x reader#sasha x reader#marco x reader#bertholdt x reader#hange x reader#erwin x reader#levi ackerman#reiner braun#jean kirstein#annie leonhart#zeke yeager#eren yeager#armin arlert#porco galliard#pieck finger
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I must say something because since I attended the Eras shows I feel this and I need to say it.
I've been a fan since crazier came out and she appeared on the cover of a disney magazine that my mom got me because I liked the song and wanted to know more about her, around 2010. Since then, I've always respected her and her work and came more and more in love with her writing and music. That hasn't changed a bit. But these family that we used to be has changed now a lot.
Lately, I've seen on social media and at the shows of the eras that many people who attended recognized to have had hated on her in the past, but they now "adore her". Something about this feels wrong to me.
Literally, "the old taylor is dead" was made to win over the general public. She had to metaphorically kill all her previous versions that people didn't trust or tolerated; these versions of herself with which she managed to make her name in the music industry AND those are the same ones they all rejected and now they sing with their mouth full.
She was FORCED to get the approval of people like these who pointed and criticized every little nonsense*¹ about her in order to be able to do what she does now: succeed, fill stadiums with thousands of people and create a legacy which will be in the Music History books.
What I want to get at is that Taylor Swift, in order to continue growing in the industry, has had to overcome and prove wrong all of them who were at hater position 2, 3, 10 years ago.
In order to be valued and respected for her job which is creating music, and for her is specially writing her own songs, she was forced to learn how to dance "better" to beat the "she doesn't know how to dance" allegations; she had to change her dressing style and many other things like that to be what people wanted her to be so she could have the recognition she deserved previously and all.
To this day I think many don't like Taylor Swift for what she is and has been. Many people attending the Eras are people loving the results of her growing into someone "different" to earn that respect and admiration. And most of those love that performance of a (now considered) cool girl on stage that she puts on every night on the Eras more than her for what she is and more than the music.
But to all those I must say, she's on the bleachers. That's how it was and that’s the narrative most of them rejected her for. It's not okay to me that they claim to love her now that she's cheer captain, as if they never said a bad word about her.
If these people would have known taylor swift at that age when she wrote those and wasn't "cool" they may have bullied her for the same things they claim to love her for now.
These are the same people who have bullied me and my other Swift's fans friends for decades just for us liking taylor's music. I had to battle and fight for tickets & a seat at The Eras Tour against people who used to bully me at school for liking her music.
In her own words: maybe you've reframed it and in your mind you never beat my spirit black and blue. But I don't think you've changed much.
I welcome those who discover her recently with open arms. But to the "haters to fans" that "now I can see how good she is" no thanks.
I've been here through a lot watching from a distance (tumblr, youtube) and I always dreamed about going to a Taylor Swift's show. I watched the videos of the speak now world tour when my parents wouldn't let me go because I was 13 years old. I watched the Red Tour while experiencing my first romantic heartbreak and the 1989 world tour when I was 16 and decided to not have boyfriends for a long period of my life. When I started uni and had the clean speech tied to my folder binder to see it every day, these people looked at me like if I was GREEN. And then at the Uni I watched the reputation stadium tour every late night before falling asleep wondering what it must felt like to be a part of it and I grew more into the desire of traveling to a show but couldn't afford it back then. The Eras Show was amazing, it absolutely blew all of my expectations, it truly is my once in a lifetime experience that I'm so grateful for. To have been able to experience all the past eras that I dreamed of in my past.
It feels wrong to see every person who once bullied me for dreaming about it out loud back in the day standing there making their own of the lyrics that for so many time were mine to scape real life and dream.
*¹nonsense: there was this time when every day we had a battle on twitter and other social media of people attacking taylor for the absurd fact that she was blonde, rich and famous and also thin. It was like that back then, they didn't had anything else to attack her for.
#taylor swift#the eras tour#ttpd#the tortured poets department#lyrics#ts the eras tour film#eras tour#haters#fans#swifties#eras attendees#conclussion#thank you aimee#no i don't like you
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Ready Or Not
Howzer x fem!S/O | 1.9k words
Content: blind dates, bad first impressions, Howzer has some thoughts and feels to work through, maybe some demi vibes?, no real fluff but I think it's sweet in its own way
Prompt: I came across this concept of a "Meet Ugly" and thought it'd be interesting to explore. Used this scenario: Getting set up on a blind date and not having the best reaction when they first see each other.
Part of Operation #MoreHowzerFics
He did not have time for this.
Maybe the rest of the galaxy had been duped into thinking the war was over, but Howzer knew better. There was still a fight to be had, and a more dire one at that. A fight for his brothers. Their fates were hanging in the balance... and here he was, sitting at some cafe on Pabu waiting for a date.
He wasn't even sure how it had happened. Rex had insisted there was a reason soldiers took R&R, and even though they technically weren't soldiers anymore they should still try to relax every once in a while. Fireball had taken to saying "you need to get laid" every time Howzer was in an even slightly bad mood. Greer was always going on about how they needed to think of the future, find a dream worth fighting for, like a home or a family. And Gregor was weirdly interested in figuring out what everyone's "type" was; everywhere they went he'd point someone out and gauge their reactions.
All of that somehow had culminated in setting Howzer up on a blind date the second they touched down on Pabu. As if he had time for such things. As if he cared about such things.
And yet... here he was. Wearing his armor and a frown, but he'd still shown up. If he wasn't so busy cursing his brothers in his mind, he could have analyzed why he was here. Or whether he maybe secretly did care about such things.
His leg bounced and his narrowed eyes stared unfeeling out at the planet's glistening waters. He glanced down at his watch every few minutes, growing more upset at how the time passed without this supposedly "cute" date of his showing up. A memory of Echo whispered in the back of his mind, saying something about "Pabu time", how people here didn't need to move with the same urgency he was used to, but he didn't listen to it.
A few people passed by and gave him pleasant smiles. Some entered the patio and gave warm hugs to neighbors they recognized. An elderly couple went up to the counter, leisurely reading the menu as if they had never dined here before. One girl confidently strolled in, at first acting like she knew where she was going, and then halting in the middle of the tables and looking about in confusion. She then tried to cover and got in line to order, as if that had been her plan, even though Howzer had seen the whole thing and knew she had probably absentmindedly gone to the wrong place.
He fought back the urge to roll his eyes at these people. He wasn't really annoyed at them. If anything, he envied their peace. They didn't have family enslaved by the Empire. They didn't have uncertain futures. They were allowed to wander and smile and act a little silly. It's what he would want for his brothers once they were freed. No, he was annoyed because they weren't free. This peace was not theirs. But here he was, sitting in a cafe overlooking a beautiful view and waiting for a date as if he had earned it. How in the galaxy had he let Rex and the others convince him to do this?
Just when he started to entertain the idea of bailing, the girl from earlier caught his eye. She had made it up to the counter now and the worker was pointing over in his direction. Howzer subconsciously shifted, his back straightening and his hand settling on his thigh next to his blaster holster. Usually he'd pretend not to have noticed, let any potential threats think they were catching him unawares while all along he had the upper hand. But here, he decided to send a different message. I am aware, I see you staring, try to mess with me.
The girl followed the path that the worker had pointed her in, right to Howzer. She didn't look like a spy or some other kind of threat, but these days, who really knew. Especially when she seemed determined to appear pleasant and confident, despite the nervous gulp Howzer clocked from across the patio, not to mention the little display of carelessness he had seen from her earlier.
"Hi there," she said when she came within a few feet of his table.
She gave out a breathy laugh and Howzer frowned, waiting to see what she wanted from him.
"Um," she gulped again, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Another nervous tell. What was she hiding? "I uh... Phee told me to meet someone here. For a... a date?"
Howzer's eyes widened in realization. Kriff.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to walk right past you," the girl continued to fill in the silence. "I guess I wasn't expecting, um..."
She trialed off as she realized how the thought was sounding out loud, and then quickly tried to save face by hurrying over to the seat opposite him and pulling it out. But Howzer wasn't going to let her off the hook that easy.
"Weren't expecting... what?" he asked once she sat down. He eased his hand away from his blaster but kept his posture upright. She may not be a threat but he wasn't exactly comfortable.
She exhaled quickly with a sheepish smile. "Well, a clone."
Howzer's eyes returned to their narrowed state, sizing up this girl he found himself sitting across from. She interpreted the silence as offense and immediately started babbling.
"I mean, not that there's anything wrong with that. It's... it's just... You know, you've all just recently started coming here... I mean, I guess I shouldn't be surprised... Of course Phee would set me up with someone I don't know, I know practically every other guy here, and there's a reason I'm not with any of them... And she's been working with clones more recently... But like, I know only a few of you are sticking around for good, so I guess that's why it didn't occur to me that..."
Howzer wasn't sure when he had started zoning out. He felt bad, but also couldn't help it. He didn't have much time for this date to begin with, and certainly no time to listen to a stranger ramble without getting to any sort of point. He was a soldier; he valued conciseness. Whatever suppressed little hope he had that maybe this date wouldn't be so bad after all, maybe he finally would find a romantic connection with someone, dissipated into the saltwater breeze.
He sat forward and the girl stopped spewing her thoughts, eagerly awaiting him to interject and contribute.
"Look, you seem like a nice girl," he lied. He honestly didn't really have an opinion about her one way or the other. He'd been hit on plenty of times back on Ryloth but had never felt anything by it, other than occasional annoyance when it interrupted his duties. "But it seems like we both have some disappoints over this arrangement. Why don't we cut our losses now, get some time back in our days, and part on good terms?"
Now it was her turn to frown.
"You... you're disappointed?"
Howzer was already scooting his chair back to stand. "It's nothing personal against you," he tried to reassure, though even he could hear how impolite it sounded. He hated that he was in such a situation. He should have never come in the first place.
He gave her a formal nod, almost like a salute, and then strode through the patio gate and down quiet, cobbled streets back toward the town square. Each step felt heavier and heavier and he did whatever he could to ignore the guilt twisting in his chest, even trying to look at his surroundings and focus on taking in the architecture and flora and beauty. It was a hollow focus, but he was determined to keep walking, believing he'd soon forget about this awkward encounter and the rude behavior he'd displayed, and things would go back to normal... as normal as they could be in a war.
But then a voice started to cut through to him from behind.
"Sir? Sir!"
He turned in confusion to see the girl jogging toward him. She pulled up a few feet from him, only slightly out of breath.
"Sorry. Um, I don't know your name. Or your rank."
"My rank doesn't matter anymore," he said, immediately regretting how defensive it sounded. He really was a mess today, wasn't he.
"Sure it does," she said with a small smile. "It was an accomplishment, something you should always be proud of."
Without realizing, the tenseness in his shoulders started to loosen. He took in a deep breath and said the first normal thing all day. "My name's Howzer. Captain Howzer."
Her smile grew just a bit more. "It's nice to meet you, Captain Howzer. And... I'm sorry if I came across rude or annoying before. I understand if you don't find me attractive, but I really don't want that to be your impression of me. I really wasn't disappointed to find out you were my date. In fact, I'm disappointed I didn't actually get to have you as a date. But, like I said... it's okay if you're not interested."
Howzer's heart was twisting again. She was a nice girl. Sweet, thoughtful. Still used too many words, but he supposed he didn't use enough sometimes. As far as attraction, he wasn't entirely sure he knew what that felt like, but those bright eyes and soft smile weren't so bad to look at.
"It's not that I'm not interested," he started to say slowly, but then realized he wasn't sure how to finish the thought.
The girl stepped closer. "You're just not ready?"
"Honestly, I don't know if I ever will be ready." He gave a sheepish shrug, though he was starting to feel better. He appreciated that she was helping him sort through these confusing feelings. Her eyes were closer, swimming with the reflection of the sky and what he believed to be genuine care. Before he knew it, he was elaborating. "I mean, do I like the idea of sitting down for coffee with someone and getting to know them? Of course. But to what end? I don't know what the future holds. I don't know if I can be a good friend, let alone... something else."
She nodded in understanding but still offered a different perspective. "To be fair, no one really knows what the future holds. And relationships come in all different forms. There's no one way to be a good friend. Or a good something else."
Howzer's eyes slipped away from hers, pulled toward the glistening sea in the backdrop behind her. He mulled over her words as he watched the waves, nothing but tiny little ripples from this distance. It reminded him of some of the paintings he saw back on Ryloth. He'd always been impressed with artists who could make small details seem real. They were only small strokes on a canvass but they captured a whole entire feeling.
He shook himself, not sure why he was thinking about such a thing right now. The girl was still watching him with a small but knowing smile. She stepped back and returned the nod he'd given her back at the cafe.
"I'm really glad to have met you, Captain. I wish you all the best."
She turned and started walking back the way she'd came. Howzer let her get a few steps before finally calling out.
"Wait. I didn't get your name."
She paused and smiled at him over her shoulder.
"Hope."
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@theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565
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#star wars#the clone wars#the bad batch#morehowzerfics#captain howzer#captain baja blast#howzer x reader#howzer x s/o#dates#blind dates#first dates#first impressions#meet ugly#demiromantic#hope#oc!hope#??#maybe??
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Homeward Bound 3
Find the series masterlist
Yes, I know, it's been a hot minute. RL has been insane. I'm trying, guys. I swear nothing is forgotten or abandoned.
A quieter moment leads to some introspection on your life and your position.
Warnings: Swearing, feelings of loneliness and isolation, very brief pain (pinching your own wrist), duty over happiness.
Word count: 837
John and Kyle were hanging around the hatching grounds. Again. You stifled a sigh. If they kept this up, you'd have to usher them off and remind them that normally you didn't allow prospective riders to spend so much time here.
“...picked me herself,” John was saying as you approached, one bold hand stroking Ilsbet's snout. The green dragon preened under the attention, though she was watching Kyle rather more carefully.
“Hey.” You frowned at the two. “Back again?”
“Jus’ saying hi,” John was quick to defend, one hand held out to you like you were the biggest threat on the hatching grounds. (To be fair… you probably were.) “Introducing Kyle to Ilsbet.”
It clicked then, finally. Why Ilsbet had dragged him into the nest. “From her first time out selecting potential riders,” you murmured. “I'd forgotten.”
John nodded eagerly. “Right proud of herself, she was,” he said fondly, going back to petting her snout. “Great lizard.”
She snorted, hot air ruffling his hair while he laughed. Kyle just smiled.
“Regardless,” you said, shaking off the memories. “It's getting close to hatching time. You shouldn't be here.”
“We'll go,” Kyle was quick to assure you. “We've got drills soon anyway.”
You nodded, appeased, and watched the two go, whispering between themselves. Shaking your head, you looked at Ilsbet.
“Are you sure about that one?”
She snorted hot air at you, making you chuckle.
“Yeah, alright,” you agreed, patting her neck. “Just remember that the rest of us have to survive your rivalry with Dren.”
She snorted again but lowered her head, long neck curling around one of her eggs. Shaking your head, you continued on, deciding you might as well do a round of the nests to check on all the dragons.
It wouldn't be much longer until hatching. Another day or two, you'd bet. No more than that.
Thank goodness. Some of the mothers needed to go hunting, stretch their wings.
Plus then you wouldn't have to keep chasing prospective riders away from the hatching grounds.
The cracked egg was doing fine, warm under your palm, and even moved ever so slightly. You smiled, head tipped down at the egg so no one would see you. This little one would be just fine.
But you'd still keep an eye on this one when the hatching started. Just in case.
“Alright?”
You startled at the voice, having not heard anyone approach. You looked up to find Simon standing a polite distance away, gaze fixed on you.
“Yes,” you agreed, pushing to your feet and brushing yourself off. “Everything is fine. Hatching will be soon.”
Simon nodded. “You'll be there?”
Your smile was equal parts amused and wry. “Always.”
He grunted, shifting his weight back, away from you. Trying to find a polite way to end the conversation, probably. Not many riders bothered to get to know you.
Which was fine. You were busy. You didn't need riders poking around your business all year, instead of just around hatchings.
“I'll see you there.” You nodded to him, brisk and detached, and turned away. You had a few other things to do to prepare for the hatching.
You'd known, growing up, that you'd take this role. You'd known that would mean long hours, days, years spent largely alone. You'd known that you were unlikely to get attached. Your own mother had only one child, and had never married.
This job was a lifelong commitment, one that didn't lend easily to attachment. Not to people, at any rate. You were quite fond of the dragons, and attached to many of them. Especially the females. Since you saw them every three years once they reached egg laying age.
That did not mean you felt nothing. You were still human, you felt lonely sometimes. You wondered what it would be like to have a friend, a confidant, someone glad to see you outside of your duties.
You shook the thoughts from your head. “Useless,” you muttered to yourself. A sharp pinch to the inside of your wrist cleared your head, shaking off the last of your odd mood.
You had work to do, and you'd do it to the best of your abilities. As you had always done.
No use fantasizing over what would never happen, after all.
The nearest dragon crooned softly at you, headbutting your shoulder gently. You lifted a hand to scratch her eye ridges automatically, breathing out slowly.
“I know,” you murmured to her, glad the black dragon hadn't been more forceful. “I know.”
Just a few more days to hatching. Then cleanup. Then helping the babies for a while.
By which time, it would be time for the females to rise again for a mating flight. Rinse and repeat. Every year.
You paused at the edge of the sand, half-turning to look back.
Simon stood near Ilsbet, one hand on her neck. But he was facing you. Watching you. From this distance, you couldn't see his expression, and you weren't sure you wanted to.
You walked away.
#homeward bound#dragon rider au#dragonrider au#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#f!reader
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Previous The Escape
Inspired and and written for @meadow-hearthfire. Based on their ask: Can you imagine Bruce's reaction to seeing Floyd with an unconscious Veneer when he and his brothers found them? Can you imagine Bruce's thought process throughout the past two days Veneer was unconscious? Can you imagine the conversations Bruce has with Floyd about V&V in those two days?
Floyd is found next to an unconscious Veneer who has just been shot…all his brothers don’t understand why he cares so much about the kid, on why he bothers in trying to save him at. The only one to see the truth behind Floyd’s eyes, is Bruce.
“We’re almost to Mount Rageous!” John Dory exclaimed as they neared the city. From afar, the lights of the city emerged through the clouds.
“A little over the top isn’t it?” Branch asked as the lights came more into view.
“Rageons tend to be over the top.”
“How will we know where they are?” Clay asked trying to peak through the windows, “The place is huge compared to us! We’re like ants in a cornfield compared to that place.”
“Good old Rhonda has the scent! That letter that was left to me has the scent of the two Rageons we’re trying to find. We find them. We find Floyd.” JD smirked proudly.
Suddenly, Rhonda halted, the Trolls were confused at her sudden maneuver, “Hey, what gives!” Branch said loudly.
“She’s… picking up something I think… Rhonda?” JD grew curious, but she remained completely still. She made a noise and bolted the opposite direction.
“Rhonda no! To Mount Rageous! Rhonda!”
But nothing stopped her. She had picked up a scent, it was the scent JD had showed her before, she knew it was. Rhonda ran quicker and quicker…. Suddenly she came to halt and settled down.
One by one, the Trolls unmounted the armadillo bus. JD went around and looked at Rhonda straight in the eyes. “What gives girl? Mount Rageous remember? Velvet and Veneer?”
“John look!” Clay motioned. The Trolls looked around to find themselves surrounded by mist. Trees were overhead. The mist slowly evaporated to show a clearing that lead to a river bank…there! That’s when they saw a motionless figure…. It looked like…
“It’s a Troll!” Poppy exclaimed as she got closer. The others followed her lead. Growing closer and closer, the little figure became clearer… the small Troll kneeled next to a larger body, his hands folded over his knees, a sad look in his eyes.
“FLOYD!!” Branch ran straight for his brother. Floyd turned around to find himself being engulfed in an embrace by each of his brothers. “Floyd oh my gosh! You’re out! You’re free!” Branch held him tighter. Floyd let the sadness melt away for a moment as he let Branches love just engulf him, one by one he felt their love…. His family was back again… they were alive, they were safe.
“You guys are alive… you’re okay… I went back and… everyone was gone.” Floyd cried.
“We’re here, bro. We’re good. And we’re together again. Let’s go! Let’s go now! We’re to close to Rageous for your own good.” JD pulled Floyd’s arm, but he hesitated, he stalled.
“No! No I can’t! I can’t leave him.” Floyd said pulling away. He walked over to a bigger figure laying on the ground. The Trolls hadn’t noticed, they thought it was just something there… not an actual person. The rest of the Trolls got closer.
“Oh my gosh.” Poppy gasped, “It’s… it’s a Rageon.”
“Not just any, I know that stringy hair. That’s Veneer. Floyd how’d you escape him.” Bruce said.
“I didn’t. We escaped together. He’s hurt, he’s hurt bad.” Floyd walked up to the boys chest… there was blood… “I tried to cover it with what I could, but he’s still bleeding out. He’ll die.” Floyd jumped down attempting to pull on the boys sleeve causing him to move a little. “Please, what can we do? I need to save him.”
All the Trolls looked to Floyd in confusion. Why would he want to save him? This was his captor, the one who imprisoned him and had been torturing him. Why?… All but Bruce thought that. Bruce automatically knew the tone of voice Floyd carried, the hurt in it… this was much more.
“….Hustle Time.” Bruce said. The Trolls looked at him.
“What?” Branch was the first to ask.
“You guys said the Bergens are our friends now right? Hustle time to them. Bring them here. They have something big enough to carry a Rageon.” Bruce stated.
“Really?” Floyd asked with a glint of hope in his eyes.
“You’re seriously thinking of helping him?” Clays voice sounded. “Isn’t he like the bad guy in this story?”
“No! No he’s not. Trust me. I’ll explain everything, just please help me save him….. please.” There was a desperation in Floyd’s voice.
“I’ll help you!” Poppy exclaimed.
Bruce crossed his arms and nodded, “I second that.” He turned to face the rest of his brothers. JD let out a long sigh.
“Rhonda girl get over here. Let’s see if we can move this big guy away from the water bank first.”
Between them and Rhonda, the Trolls pulled Veneer as far off the river bank as they could, as deep into the brushes that his weight allowed him. He was loosing blood quickly, they thought he couldn’t get any paler, but he was, everything about him began to loose color.
JD, Clay, and Poppy went off with Rhonda to find the Bergens…all they could hope is that they wouldn’t be too late.
Bruce and Branch remained with Floyd. The little Troll never left the Rageons side. His brothers marveled how attentive he was, he was trying to sooth him, trying to wake him up.
“I don’t get it.” Branch said.
“I think I do.” Bruce responded. He saw the hopelessness in his brother’s eyes as he sat there by Veneers side. Bruce had so much to say and so much to ask, but he knew right now wasn’t the time. “We need to be here for him Branch. I’m sure he’ll explain everything one day, but right now, let’s just be here for him.”
Hours upon hours passed. The Trolls did everything they could to keep Veneer from bleeding out of his wound. The boys breathing began to grow staggered, and Floyd began to grow more hopeless.
“No. No. No. No. I can’t loose him! I can’t. Is there anything else we can do?” Floyd said.
“We’re doing our best. We have to wait for the others to come back.” Branch reassured.
Floyd threw his hands in the air, “We’ve waited to long! Look at him!”
“Floyd. Freaking out is not going to help him. We have to be calm, for him.” Bruce said. This seemed to calm Floyd down a bit, but he was growing weary… Veneer was so close to death….
That’s when they heard the sound.
Looking up they saw a vehicle approach. At first they were hesitant, but then they a familiar face popped out.
“He’s taller than we expected! Hopefully he fits in the back.” King Gristle stated.
Floyd never left Veneers bedside. He remained by the drawer staring down at the boy. Bruce walked in and saw everything. Floyd had not left his bedside since they arrived. There were times where he asked JD to take him back, something about seeing if she followed, he assumed he was talking about the kids sister. Bruce hopped up and sat next to Floyd.
“You doing okay, little bro?”
Floyd shook his head and remained silent.
“They say he’s stable. He’s going to make it Floyd.”
“He’s not waking up.”
“He will. He will.”
“When?”
“Floyd I…”
“When is he going to wake up Bruce!! When! You don’t understand, you don’t.” Floyd buried his face in his hands.
“I think I understand a little more than you know. I know that look. I have it when my kids are hurting.” Bruce said. Floyd looked at him, confusion on his face.
“What? Kids? Bruce, he’s not my…”
“But you see him that way, don’t you? Something happened back at Rageous. You wouldn’t just protect or feel this way about anyone who’s held you captive.” Bruce told him.
Floyd fell silent. He stared at Veneer… they patched him up, gave him liquids, now it was just a waiting game. If Floyd hadn’t tried to abandon them, leave them like he would’ve, then maybe this would have never happened…. The twins would have never have to spend those months of torment under that vile woman, “I promise I wouldn’t leave them… and I almost did… I blamed them for something they knew nothing about…I told them that they weren’t my….family.”
“Keep going.” Bruce said.
“…. After leaving, I tried coming back, but everyone was gone. I found my way into Rageous, well, Under Rageous. I was caught, but then…they let me go, they saved me. It’s rough down there…so I stayed with them, hoping one day I could find a way out and bring them with me. We…. We…”
“Became family.” Bruce finished. Floyd looked at his brother, then at Veneer.
“We did…. And I messed that up.”
The brothers stayed a moment in silence before Bruce decided to speak, “I’ve seen you passionate bro, but never like this. These guys are 100x your size, yet you don’t see that, you see the kid in them still. The way you were looking at him at the river bank, here in the hospital… the same love I look at my own kids with.” Floyd opened his mouth to protest, “Don’t deny it. In your own way, you’ve adopted these two as your own…. It may take awhile for the others to understand, but I’ll help you with that. As a father, we want to guide are kids in the right direction. Sometimes that won’t happen, sometimes they’ll mess up…. But as a parent, we got to be there for them when they do. Fatherhood ain’t easy, bro, but it’s a beautiful journey.”
Floyd stared at Bruce, then turned his gaze towards Veneer… Bruce was right. Unknowingly he had began to see these two as his own. Maybe that’s why he got so hurt and upset when he found out what the Mistress was doing. He had felt betrayed… but in the long run, Floyd was the one to betray them. Now here he sat, waiting for Veneer to wake up… hoping Velvet would’ve followed…
“What do I do now?” Floyd asked.
“Learn and wait. This kid will wake up… and the girl will make it out. We’ll find a way to help her, I promise you. Besides, if she had you in her life, then that means she’s a fighter. One thing at a time, little bro.”
Floyd wipes the tears that had unknowingly been falling. But for the first time, he wasn’t crying because he was sad…. He was crying because for the first time since all this happened..Floyd had hope.
#trolls 3#trolls band together#velvet and veneer#veneer#velvet#trolls veneer#velvet and veneer trolls#velvet trolls#trolls band together brozone#trolls brozone#brozone#trolls bruce#trolls floyd#veneer trolls#trolls velvet#trolls au#trolls#trolls fanfic#velvet and veneer fanfiction#fanfics#fanfiction#fanfic#hurt/comfort
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