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bby-deerling · 5 months

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make a mess (zoro x reader nsfw)

zoros tongue works some magic + he gives you somethin' extra

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 887 masterlist

cw: afab!fem!reader, established relationship, oral (reader receiving), messy, sloppy sex, piv, overstimulation, pwp

tagging: @zoros-ball-sweat (thanks for the inspiration, hehe)

Sticky, humid air fills your lungs as your chest heaves, trying and failing to keep a steady rhythm as Zoro’s tongue unravels you at the seams. A messy mixture of fluids coat your folds and inner thighs; the hot exhales of his breath as he laps at your clit keeps the chilly air from skimming across the moisture. The sensation of the drag of his tongue across your bud is intoxicating, and the material starts to fade away; there is no more rocking of the ship, or birds squawking in the distance—even the floor beneath you melts away—all that remains is the soft jingle of his earrings clashing together and the feeling of his mouth on your dripping, needy core.

Dazed and drowning in bliss, you don’t notice the way your hips are desperately grinding against his mouth until he pulls his head back, leaving you sighing in frustration at the lack of friction. “Quit squirming.” he warns with a smirk, looping his arms around your thighs. “You know I’ll get ya’ where you wanna go.”

The grip on your inner thighs is intense as he dives back into you, tongue pressed closer to you and giving you the pressure you craved against your wanting bundle of nerves. His tan, wide, strong hands keep you pinned in place, keeping your hips from wriggling against him—nonetheless, he’s amused as he notices you trying to writhe as he gets you close, and softly chuckles against you. The vibrations rumbling against your clit combined with a few more intense swipes of his tongue send you spinning, head buzzing and desperately running your hands through his hair.

The whimpers and moans falling off your tongue as you come become strangled gasps as one of his hands leaves your thigh to start rubbing soft circles into your sensitive clit and his warm, wet tongue drops to slide inside of you. The slow, sensual drag of his tongue is juxtaposed by the erratic, violent way your walls clench around him—each spasm pulls a soft moan out of him that sends vibrations spreading through your veins and draws out the afterglow of your high a smidge longer.

Dizzy and tingling, cheeks coated in a pink flush, you give him a dreamy smile, eyes still hazy with lust and appreciation. Tongue withdrawing, he smirks up at you, proud of the mess he’s turned you into. Satisfied with his work, he pushes himself up and cages you beneath him; hunger and desire brims in both of your gazes as your lips crash together. Longing to taste the remnants of your nectar left on him, your tongue swipes along his bottom lip; sparks spread across your tastebuds as you catch the flavor of your tangy essence, leaving you moaning softly into his mouth.

“Tastes good, huh?” he murmurs against your lips; not willing to break the kiss yourself, you reply with a content hum. “You’re a dirty girl, aren’t ya’?” he teases, slipping his tongue back into your mouth; whimpering affirmatively against his lips, you thread your fingers through his hair and pull him closer in response.

So caught up in the way your lips smacked against each other, lewd and heated and sloppy, you nearly miss him sliding off his sweatpants until his tip teases your wet folds. “My dirty, messy, pretty girl—” he murmurs, emphasizing each adjective by shallowly thrusting inside you, teasing you by giving you barely more than the head of his cock. “You’re gonna take it for me so well, aren’t ya’?” he asks, running his thumb across your lip.

“’Course I am.” you reply with a grin, gazing up at him radiantly, a small glint of mischief in your eyes—it nearly mesmerizes him as he smiles back at you, knuckles caressing your cheek.

“That’s my girl.” he whispers, crashing his lips onto yours to muffle both of your gasps as his cock buries itself deep inside you. “Gonna get ya’ to make another mess all over my cock.”

All of your senses were drowned in him, taken deep under the tide. The clinks of his earrings smashing into each other ring in your ear with each deep, hard stroke he gives you. His mouth is on yours, overwhelming your tastebuds; the scent of sweat and steel makes your head dizzy. His gorgeous, raw, sculpted face and chest is the only focus of your eyes as they flutter open, and your skin melts under his touch, intimacy molding you into one fluid being. His fingers circle your clit, coaxing you closer to the edge with skill shaped by and reserved solely for you.

When the coil snaps, your back arches to the point of feeling a vertebrae crack, gushing and spasming all over his cock as he continues to fuck you slow and deep, mumbling praises in your ear. Strangled gasps escape your throat as you start to fall from the top of your crest; there is no shame in the lewd way you feel yourself dripping around him, coming apart for him so easily—after all, you were his messy girl, and proud of it.

Cheeks tingling and mind hazy, Zoro’s voice rumbles in your ear, sending electricity down your side and making your walls flutter.

“You can give me one more, can’t ya’?”

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x y/n #mdni #one piece smut #need his mouth on me so bad #one piece scenario

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tightjeansjavi · 5 months

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The Menu | Part 5

“my body is a cage”

A/N: I wrote this in a matter of hours yesterday..and also decided to say fuck the canon timeline so <3

~word count: 4.6k~

Pairing | dark!joel miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel promises that he can make your pain go away. He’s a man that never goes back on his word.

Warnings: trauma responses from SA (not by Joel) mildly descriptive flashback to SA, degrading language, hurt, comfort, dark!joel, protective!joel, he’s kinda shit at communicating, but he’s trying his best for you, softish!joel, talk of the past, angst, sprinkle of fluff, intense emotional feelings, you and Joel let your guard down around one another, age gap, (Joel is in his 40’s and reader is in her late 20’s. I played around with the canon timeline a bit) reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!

A languid roll of condensation drips down the base of Joel’s glass that has long since been abandoned the second you fell to your knees in an unceremonious fashion between his parted thighs.

Acceptance already began to make its home again in your heart when you watched Joel slowly shake his head. It hurt, like all rejections do, but it stung a little deeper than you were willing to admit.

Joel Miller didn’t want you anymore. He’d forget about you when the dust would inevitably settle. He’d find someone else to bury his troubles into. It wouldn’t be you, and maybe that was for the better. Maybe the presence of Joel in your life was not a good thing.

It still hurts. No amount of whiskey-melded poker face could mask that.

The weight of his actions seemed to strike their mark along him as well. Another drop of moisture slid down the glass, pooling along the worn down coffee table. He blinked once, twice, swallowing the prominent lump growing in his throat. His pupils had blown wide like two shiny 8-balls. Fuck.

The blooming awkwardness reared its ugly head when a silent tear traveled down your cheekbone. Once the first one escaped, the flood gates opened.

His gut twisted and churned painfully like a stranded ship being tousled by an onslaught of unforgiving swells. He couldn’t tear his sights from your doe-eyed teary gaze. His own tears threatened to spill when you flinched from his right hand moving upwards towards your face.

His fingers quivered when they finally settled against your clammy skin. Joel Miller would never believe himself to be a gentle-touched man. Maybe a long time ago when the sun warmed his skin, and joyous laughter echoed in both ears, and his eyes were bright and full of life, but now? His kindness was reserved, locked away, buried six feet under the cold clutches of earth. The key was thrown away, forgotten and rusted away along with what remained of his tattered and bruised heart.

Here in his hold, your skin warm, soft beneath the rough calluses of his palm, he felt. He felt not just anger, but guilt, sadness, a newfound ache that was tangled up in that stupid four letter word that he would be damned to ever utter its existence again.

“Hey, it’s okay, Angel. It’s okay. You’re safe.” He reassured you, big brown eyes never leaving yours.

You had never heard this brutish man speak to you in such a sincerely soft way. There wasn’t an ilk of pity or condescendence in his tone. Nothing but concern, fear, a desperate need to ascend comfort in his words.

He was so..confusing.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, choking back a sob that died in your throat. “You—you should go, Joel.” You went to brush away his hand to crawl as far away from him as physically possible, but he wasn’t budging. He’d never leave.

“Hey, look at me.” He commanded softly. His other hand found purchase around the left side of your face. His movements were gentle and slow. He wanted to ground you, to keep your soul from being plucked up like a marionette. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

You pushed and pulled against him, grinding your teeth together when he still sat unmoving. It was as if you were the unsuspecting bird, and he was the wet cement that would soon harden and fossilize around your body.

“Why?” You questioned. Your sadness had ebbed away and was quickly replaced with simmering frustration. “You don’t want me anymore, Joel. There’s nothing left for you here, so just—fuckin’ leave.” You snapped.

“Angel, I never said I didn’t want you anymore. Please stop fightin’ me. Please.” He pleaded, the rough pads of his thumbs swiped under your eyes, collecting the tears that pooled there while they awaited their time to fall.

“You didn’t need to say it, Joel. I could fuckin’ feel it.” You sniffled, falling back on your haunches in defeat.

“No, sweet girl. You’re mistaken. I swear. I’m shit at this. This whole..communicating thing has never been my forte. I’m sorry. I’m so—sorry. But somethin’ about this ain’t feel right. I—I don’t want to assume, but somethin’ happened to you. I know you don’t want to tell me, but maybe—”

“But maybe what, Joel? Why do you even care? Why all of a sudden—when you said yourself that I’m nothin’ but your whore on stilts. A tight hole to fuck whenever you please. What, did you have a sudden change of heart? Gonna manipulate me into believing that you actually care about me? Fuck you—”

“I swear on my daughters fuckin’ grave that I care about you. I am not manipulating you into believing anythin’ that is leaving my mouth, Angel. I am tellin’ you the truth. You mean somethin’ to me. Puttin’ it into words ain’t easy for a man like me, but you’re hurtin.’ You’re in pain, and I swear to god if some sick fuck put their hands on you, I’ll make sure they never see the light of day again.” He confessed fiercely.

He might as well get down on one knee and sign his life off to you in red ink. To ensure his promise to keep you safe and protected like he was some knight in shining armor.

Benji yanked you up by the scruff of your neck like you were some stray cat, or a tattered ragdoll. You felt like a bug at his mercy, awaiting a painful death of being squashed beneath a leather boot, split into a million pieces. You could hear his friends snickering in the back while they were still fisting their cocks like the disgusting hounds that they were. “Jus’ remember your place in this world, Angel. No matter what anyone tells you, you will be nothin’ but a come-stained, filthy whore. And when you return to him, like I know you will, he’ll toss you away like yesterday's trash. All men are the same, sweetheart. They don’t like it when another dog has been in their bitch.” He spat cruelly, a glob of saliva landing along your cheek.

“No, Joel. I’m nothin’ but a come-stained whore, and you’ll toss me away like yesterday’s trash.” You whispered solemnly, chin tilting downwards in disgust with what was instilled in you to be your true identity. Crestfallen tears were wept. Tears that trailed down your cheeks and rolled down the expanse of his bare wrists and forearms. Each teardrop that landed upon his skin sent his anger flaring upwards the way that smoke rises from a blazing fire.

“Who did this to you, Angel? Tell me his name, and I swear to you that I will make this all go away. Tell me the name of the man who laid his fuckin’ hands on you. Tell me, please. Please, Angel. I want to help you.” He was on the cusp of begging, hating the fear that began to douse the flames. The fear that maybe it was too late, and the damage was done already.

Your eyes slowly meet his, rimmed in red, skin puffy and dry. From just the look alone that you gave him, he knew who had done this to you. He knew the second your lips parted, and uttered the name that sent the beast inside of him awakening once more.

“Benji.”

The dam broke the moment his name left your lips; you crumbled. An echo of gut wrenching, broken sobs tumbled out of you as Joel scrambled to keep you together. He was on the floor with you now, cradling you in his arms while struggling to gather up the broken pieces figuratively scattered around him. It was as if you were loose grains of sand, and no matter how many times he scooped you up into his gentle palms, you kept slipping through the cracks.

You found yourself crawling into his lap, straddling his hips with your arms latched around his neck. You anchored yourself around him while his shirt soaked up your heavy flowing tears like a sponge. His arms were around you like a cage, comforting you the only way he knew how; through touch. One large hand came to cradle the back of your head, while the other rested along the curve of your spine, drawing soothing circles against your skin with the rough pads of his fingertips.

It’s okay, Angel. I have you. You’re safe. I promise.

and through your tears, and your aching, you wanted to believe him. But believing and trusting someone never came easy. Especially in this world. To throw all your eggs into one basket would be considered foolish. Since the night of the outbreak you had convinced yourself that you needed no one. Not a shoulder to cry on, or a friend to confide in. You hadn’t sought for human connection till you crossed paths with Joel Miller. And now you felt guilty for webbing him into your life. For making this mountain of a man feel.

Was it intentional? No. But sometimes we lose all sense of control and ultimately find ourselves giving into that thing that we fear the most. In all retrospect, you had tried to push Joel away from you, but he was a stubborn man. The most stubborn person you had ever met. A whole lotta bark and bite. Fearless until he gave into feeling. Unmoving until he began to feel for you. The girl that was just looking for a vice to fill a void, and instead found a man that would quite literally kill for you. He’d lasso the fucking moon and bring it down to you if you asked. He’d be your friend, your shoulder to cry on, your comfort in the odd hours of the night when the nightmares would creep in.

He’d be your laughter, your anger, your sadness. He’d be whatever the fuck you wanted him to be. That was the thing about men like Joel Miller, they were fiercely loyal to the ones they loved to the point where maybe he was the foolish one. Maybe he had bitten off more than he could chew. And if that were the case, he’d lick his wounds, convince himself that he was okay, and move on until his body would ultimately give way to the grief he carried day in, and day out.

“Will you let me take care of you, Angel?” He asked suddenly, so softly you could barely hear him through the thick of your messy tears.

“If you wish it.” You sniffled, cheek pressed firmly against the damp fabric of his shirt where your tears had soaked through.

He rumbled a sigh, nostrils flaring while he tilted his chin down to take a peek at your current state. He’d never seen you look so tiny, frail, curling into yourself like a mouse shriveling from a house cat on the prowl. His latent caretaker instincts were kicking into full drive after the dust had been blown off of them and wafted through the stagnant air.

“C’mon, sweet girl.” He urged in a gentle tone, strong arms tightening their hold around you while his hands gently hoisted you up by your thighs. His knees creaked and groaned from carrying the weight of himself and you to a standing position. You clung to him still in a koala like fashion.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked unsurely.

“Takin’ you to the bathroom so we can wash the pain away.” He replied quietly.

His footsteps are soft, yet calculated while his hands stay secured around your thighs. He uses his shoulder to push open your flimsy bathroom door. You find yourself sitting along the toliet seat, back resting against the wall with your hands in your lap. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails absentmindedly. You flinch slightly when the sharp edge of your nail tears through dry cuticle skin surrounding your thumb. The sting feels nice, calming in a sense.

Your eyes stay focused on the wall even when the shadow of his silhouette looms over you, and his warm palm suddenly engulfs your own.

“Don’t do that.” He whispers, brows furrowed when he notices the bead of blood on the side of your thumb. “You have beautiful hands, Angel. Don’t go’n ruin ‘em.” He means every word.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can really say.

He slips his fingers through your own and you can feel every ridge and rough callus through his skin. His thumb strokes the outside of your hand in a tender sweep.

You want to cry, but you don’t. Instead you lean your head back against the wall and close your eyes while the sounds of the water sloshing into the tub drowns out your thoughts.

With his freehand he constantly checks the temperature of the water to make sure it’s not too hot, and not too cold. The last thing he wants to do is shock your system. He glances up at your face for a moment before he focuses on his blurry reflection in the rippling water.

How can I make her pain go away?

It's not something that will ever go away. It becomes bearable, but with time. All you can do is be there for her the best way that you can. He reminds himself.

“Angel.”

Your eyes snap open at the sound of his voice ringing in your ears.

So it wasn’t all a dream.

“Uh..the water should be good now. Do you want some privacy? I don’t—need to be in here with you..I understand if you—” he’s stumbling over his words more than he intended to, but this is uncharted territory for him, and he’s unsure.

“No.” You finally speak, “I want you to stay.”

He breathes; relieved for a moment. “Okay, I’ll stay. Do you..want some help?” He’s referring to your clothes and if you require assistance in undressing.

“Please.”

He nods reassuringly before standing up to his full height from where he was kneeling alongside the tub. “Arms up.” He softly requests while he reaches for the hem of your shirt.

Your body works strictly on autopilot, boneless as you lift your arms above your head so it’s easier for him to pull your shirt up.

His wounded knuckles brush gently against your sides when he begins to lift the fabric from your body slowly. Gooseflesh begins to rise when you're exposed to the room temperature air. Your hands instinctively move to cover your modesty and he pretends to not notice the way you immediately fold in on yourself.

It hurts him to see you in such a state as this, but his feelings do not matter, he reminds himself. Yours are far more important than his own.

He waits for your consent to pop the button of your jeans followed by the zipper. His eyes stay locked on your own when he begins to ease the worn denim down your thighs. There’s two gaping holes in the fabric around your knees that weren’t there before. He begins to feel the bile rise before he forces it back down.

You're trembling by the time he reaches for the elastic waistband of your tattered panties and he finds himself freezing in place when your hands snatch his wrists frantically.

“I won’t take them off, okay?” He reassures you. “I promise.”he adds for good measure.

You trust him, and that scares you, but it’s enough for you to release his wrists from your death grip.

“Turn around, please.” You croak out, still struggling to find your voice.

He doesn’t protest, or say mean things, or make you feel ten times smaller than you already felt. He obliges your request silently.

You wait until his back is facing you before you pull your panties down over your thighs. You catch a glimpse of a maroon saturated stain that will be forever tattooed in the flimsy fabric. You want to sob, but instead you drop the material to your ankles and discard them with the rest of your tattered clothing.

He doesn’t turn around to look at you until you give him permission. By that point you were already carefully lowering yourself into the tub. He finds you with your knees protectively tucked up to your chest, folded in on yourself. A dull, sullen look glossed over in your once vibrant irises. Your eyes cast down to your reflection before staring off into nothingness once more.

“Can..I get you anything? Are you hungry? I can whip you up some soup or somethin?’” He asks while lowering himself to sit alongside the tub. He doesn’t care that his lower back pinches a bit, or his knees creak, he just wants to be there for you in any way that he can.

“Just a cigarette would be nice.” You mumble out a reply. Your eyes meet his softened gaze for a moment with your chin resting along the dip of your knee. “He took the ones that you rolled me, along with the pills, and the pistol you lent me. I’m sorry, Joel. I—I’ll pay you back.”

“Hey, you don’t have to pay me back for any of that, okay? I don’t give a fuck about the pills, and I lent you the gun and cigarettes, Angel. Don’t worry about that, okay?” He reached into his back pocket, pulling out his own stash and a lighter. He leaned forward, placing the cigarette between your lips before he ignited the unlit end with the lighter.

You took a long drag, letting the smoke attack your lungs, and the nicotine ease your brain into relaxation, and calm your rising anxiety.

“Okay.” You finally speak, willing yourself to scoot closer towards the edge of the tub to ash the cigarette over the side.

“Tell me something that..makes you happy.” He catches you off guard while you take another long drag. You blow the smoke off to the side, creating a hazy cloud that soon dissipates.

“Something..that makes me happy?” You question apprehensively.

“Yes. Jus’ anythin’ that you can think of that makes you happy, Angel.” He rasps softly as he awaits your response.

“The rain. But specifically when it’s storming. I love that earthy smell after a storm. When everything smells fresh, clean, alive. I like the dreary days too. Where it rains from morning through the night. I like the sound it makes when raindrops land on the pavement, or roofs. I know it might sound silly, but when I was a kid I used to sit out on the driveway with some neighborhood friends and watch the storms roll in. Always found myself getting excited when the clouds grew darker and the wind picked up..that first flash of lighting, and rumbling thunder?” You trailed off, unsure if you said too much, or too little for his liking.

“Oh, yeah, I have to agree. Who doesn’t love a good heavy storm? Perfect sleepin’ weather too. Back in Texas we’d get some pretty wild storms out there. Flash floods and all that jazz. Didn’t matter to me cus’ I’d always sleep with the window open. My younger brother, Tommy, was afraid of thunderstorms, up until the point of me tellin’ him that we were always safe inside. Think he got over the fear by the time he was ten.” Joel found himself reminiscing on his childhood, and a simpler time that felt like a ghost to him now.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” You ashed the cigarette over the side of the tub once more before offering it to him. He declined with a slight shake of his head. You need it more than I do.

“Yeah, he’s..well, I don’t know where he’s at. Left with the fireflies a few years back. Thought he could be a hero and save the world. I send him radio messages every now and then jus’ to check up on him.” He sighed softly. His arm came to rest along the side of the tub, palm resting upwards in case you needed to, or wanted to hold his hand.

“Do you miss him?” You asked, shifting closer to him.

You could visibly see him tense from your question. Tommy was a sore spot for him, a festering wound at times. He felt resentful after everything he had done for his younger brother. The sacrifices he made to keep both of them safe from harm. But deep down he knew he couldn’t stay mad at his kin forever, but he wasn’t ready to let that resentment go just yet. He still needed to heal.

“I miss him more than I’m willin’ to admit, Angel. Not sure if he really misses me all that much.” He shrugged indignantly. “What about you, do..you have any siblings?”

He realized then that he didn’t know much about you at all. He knew your name, and your body, but he wanted to know more about what you were like before the world went to shit.

“Nope. Only child. Mom and Dad tried for another, but some things just aren’t meant to be.” It was your turn to shrug now. He caught you eyeing his outstretched palm resting along the chipped porcelain. If he had the ability to read minds, he certainly was reading yours now.

“And..your parents?” He asked, assuming the inevitable answer.

“Both dead. Car crash a couple years before outbreak. I was too young to comprehend any of it. Grandparents took me in luckily. We pretty much lived in desolation out in the middle of nowhere after that. Not much civilization out in the sticks.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” His tone is soft, baritone deep and soothing. And truth be told, you’re still confused. You can’t help it especially when you know this is the same man that just hours ago was trying to bust down your door.

Joel Miller made your head spin.

“It’s alright, Joel. No need for you to be sorry. Life sucks sometimes. It’s just something I’ve come to accept.”

He nods affirmatively. Life does suck sometimes, ain’t that the truth.

“So, where exactly are you from then? South? Midwest? West?” He couldn’t help his curiosity to know more. He didn’t expect you to be an open book by any means, but he’d take anything you’d give him.

“Montana. Grandparents owned a horse ranch out there. Real peaceful, open country, fresh air.”

“Ah, so a real country girl then? Well, guess you and I are closer than we originally thought, huh? How’d you end up all the way in Boston?” He stretched his arm out slightly when it had grown stiff from the position it had been in.

“If you consider Texas and Montana to be close, then sure, cowboy.” There was a glimmer of sass in your tone. Just enough to cause his ears to perk up. “Honestly, after the outbreak, things just turned into one big blur for me. It’s like I had to grow up overnight. Grandpa taught me how to use a shotgun, killed my first infected shortly after that. Grandma was the first to fall, and Grandpa followed a year later. I stayed in the ranch for as long as I could, fendin’ for myself. Was only a matter of time before raiders became a problem, and I packed a bag, took a horse, and headed east.”

Joel was having a hard time comprehending just how young you truly were when the world as you knew it turned to shit. You were just a kid, a little girl fending for yourself. When he realized you were just about Sarah’s age, he didn’t know how to process that newfound information either.

“You were..just a kid when this all happened.” He nearly whispered in disbelief at the thought of a younger version of yourself, strapped with her grandpa's shotgun, and nothing but open country to trek through.

“I was.” You confirmed. “I’m sure this is just my brain blocking all the bad shit out, but I don’t remember much of what happened after I left the ranch. I guess it’s a miracle that I managed to survive this long. Guess my luck hasn’t run out entirely, huh?”

“No, it certainly hasn’t, Angel. You’ve managed to defy practically all the odds that were placed against you.”

You fall silent again, casting another look down at your reflection while the cigarette perched between middle and forefinger dies out. “What’s your favorite color, Joel?”

“Oh, so now we’re goin’ elementary?” He teases lightly in hopes to brighten your spirits just a tad. He’d kill a thousand men just to see you smile again. “I think I have to go with a shade of blue.” He decides.

“Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious, cowboy. You’re the one who started with the personal questions. I think knowing your favorite color is definitely considered a personal question.” You feel your lips twitch, almost as if they are trying to curve up into a smile, but it doesn’t quite happen. “And blue..like the sky?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head, “blue like the ocean. But y’know..like all the shades. What about you, Angel? What’s your favorite color?”

“Purple.” “But not just any shade of purple. The kind that you can see in sunsets. It’s almost got like a pinkish hue to it? Or the purple in lavender fields. We had loads of it growing at the ranch.”

“Mm.” He hums thoughtfully, “Sunsets sure are pretty.” He’s far more relaxed now with his legs outstretched in front of him, and his chin resting along his bare bicep as he looks at you.

He asks you more questions, finding out that your favorite movies were arguably LOTR (unfortunately the third, and highly anticipated film never made it to the theaters; damn you cordyceps) and The Last Unicorn. He learned that your favorite drink of choice, before the outbreak, was either a virgin pina colada (because it tasted like the beach) or the classic kiddy cocktail; a childhood delicacy.

You learned that he and his younger brother Tommy, worked as contractors in Austin Texas, and that Joel used to be married..and he had a single daughter that he raised practically on his own. Her name was Sarah, and she died the night of the outbreak; Joel’s birthday. You also now know that his favorite movie was Curtis and Viper 2.

And through the midst of your back and forth domestic conversing, you find yourselves holding hands again. You’re not sure if he initiated it, or vice versa, but neither of you let go.

There was an unasked question that circled heavy in the air, like two vultures waiting to dive in for the kill. He could sense just as much as you could. Addressing the elephant in the room was not going to be easy, but you were beginning to realize that Joel wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, you were shocked to find that he hadn’t climbed into that damn tub with you.

“Joel?” You ask suddenly, skin beginning to prune from being in the water for too long.

“Yes, Angel?” He’s hopeful, but realistic given the circumstances.

“Did you..mean what you said earlier? About..making this all go away?”

“Yes.” He didn’t even hesitate to answer. He was not the kind of man to go back on his word. “I will make sure that he pays for what he did to you, Angel. He’ll suffer, and I’ll make him wish he was never born.” Oh, he’d make him pay alright.

“Good. I want you to kill him, Joel. And I want to be there to see you do it. I want to be right there when he takes his last pathetic breath—” you don’t even realize how hard you're squeezing his hand in your grasp that his knuckles are beginning to turn white from the pressure.

“Of course I’ll kill him for you, Angel.” That wasn't even a request in his mind. Benji would die at the hands of Joel, and you would get to watch.

and then..you told him everything.

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282 notes · View notes

faerune · 1 year

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first time 👁👁👁👁

Yes, Zev absolutely was laying in bed getting more and more anxious about not coming with Nelia into the Deep Roads. Yes, he is so IN LOVE WITH HER.

He was wearing a simple linen shirt and trousers, a contrast to his full leathers he was rarely without even at camp. The leather boots on Zevran’s feet were only half tied, as if he had slipped them on just to come to her room.

Nelia bristled, trying and failing to keep her emotions level.

“The dwarves have centuries of experience fighting darkspawn! They could change the very tide of this Blight.”

Zevran turned to her, something unreadable in those eyes. Like always. It made Nelia want to scream. That oh-so-charming facade he quite loved to play infuriated her to no end, it made her want to pick him apart piece by piece.

But this? This was something entirely new. That unknowable nature staring her right in the face. To Nelia, nothing had ever been unknowable. Difficult? Occasionally. Not worth her time or the very little patience she had to spare? Certainly.

But unknowable was not a word in Nelia Surana’s vast vocabulary.

#TEEHEE #thanks hilary im lob them #writing*#ship: caged birds

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henrioo · 11 months

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✦ ── ANYTHING FOR YOU: SHANKS

Part one — Parte two

Child! Shanks x Child! Reader ( x platonic! Edward Newgate)

Synopsis: "A confusing encounter with a red-haired child ends up changing his day completely."

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,6k

Notes: Pronouns should be neutral but because of automatic translation they are masculine, I'm sorry, it was written with a neutral reader in mind. Forgive the bad English too, Google is not one of the best

Revision: @waitingmydemons

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

Today would definitely be your day! After weeks of trying to convince your brothers and especially your father, you had managed to get permission to take a tour all alone around the next island the ship stopped. It might seem silly, but living surrounded by men who saw danger in everything made your freedom being compared to one of a bird in a cage. Of course, you were more than grateful for all the effort they put into protecting you, but sometimes you just wanted to run around and play with other kids instead of being followed by famous pirates who scared anyone who came near.

That's why you couldn't hold back the anxiety of finally being able to live a little adventure completely alone! You've prepared very well, choosing fresh clothes that won't get in the way of playing or running, took a purse with a generous amount of money that you collected according to the days and choose the best and most resistant shoes! Everything was perfect, you couldn't even swallow your food during lunch. You were so busy, as soon as the meal was over, you said goodbye to everyone and ran towards the port, excited to explore the place.

Even if walking around and spending money on silly things wasn't exactly the most fun thing in the world, just being able to experience all those new things by yourself and maybe even make a few friends was enough to get you excited. There weren't many young people in Whitebeard's crew, you ended up being the only child and the youngest member which left you a bit alone. Of course no one refused to play with you, Marco and Thatch would spend hours distracting you if that made you happy, the point was that they were adults and eventually needed to take care of their responsibilities, leaving you alone.

Your plan was to buy some candy and maybe find some kids your age to play with, you couldn't wait to get some attention from people who would also like to play. You walked carefree through the big city market, there were countless merchants, mothers, workers, all walking around in their own worlds and duties. You'd eventually stop and look at the fruit, jewelry, or anything else that looked like fun, but you weren't focused on shopping. You were humming absently around, not really caring about your surroundings when you started to hear footsteps approaching.

When you turned around to try to figure out what was going on it was too late, a person collided directly with you but before he could knock you to the ground, he pulled you by the arm away from the main road. You were dragged into an alley and soon a hand covered your mouth, when you regained your senses you could hear more and more footsteps approaching, a crowd running! You frowned in confusion as you listened to what people were saying. "Are you sure you lost them?" You tried to peek down the alley and you could guess they were sailors by their blue and white outfit. "Shit, those little brats! I can't believe they robbed us…" they argued among themselves "Let's keep looking, they can't have gone far".

So when the men walked away you decided to pay attention to the situation you were in. You looked to see who your captors were and came across two… children? The boy holding you had blue hair and a huge red nose, he was holding your mouth while his face had a terrified expression. Next to him was a boy with red hair and a nice hat, he was carrying what looked like a bag of coins and he also looked extremely nervous about being chased. Whoever they were, you knew they'd robbed the sailors, but that didn't mean they weren't a risk to you.

When you were sure the sailors were gone you used all your strength to step on the boy's foot and then bite his hand. You might be small but you weren't harmless, growing up with powerful pirates had taught you a trick or two.

"Ouch! You bit me!" The boy screamed as he held his own hand.

The redhead finally seemed to notice that they'd dragged someone else into the mess and looked at you confused.

"You kidnapped me!" You countered by crossing your arms.

"You kidnapped them?!" The redhead exclaimed looking at his friend in shock.

"They were in the way!" The other tried to defend himself "And you bit me! I was about to let you go!" He was still angry but you didn't care.

"Think before you kidnap me! You're lucky I only bit you, if I told my brothers they would do a lot worse!" You exclaimed proudly of your family.

"Sure, like I'm going to believe a snotty brat" the blue haired one rolled his eyes.

"You called me what?!" You exclaimed with fury as your cheeks burned.

"Snotty brat" he said again with a smirk, looking satisfied with having turned the tables.

The problem was that the boy had underestimated you, one thing you definitely lacked was patience. You learned very early that you shouldn't tolerate offenses against yourself or your family, so you let anger win that fight. You quickly punched the blue-haired boy in the middle of the face, the one who fell on his butt with a scream.

"Buggy!" The red-haired friend screamed and went to help him.

"I'm not snotty!" You said stomping your foot on the floor.

The red-haired boy looked between you and the companion, his gaze showing shock and… fascination? He looked at you like you were a bedtime story hero, someone amazing and you couldn't understand. Shouldn't he be angry? You had just hit his colleague and he seemed fascinated by it?

"Wow…" he exclaimed looking you up and down.

"Humpf! Idiot" you said without patience and then you turned to leave the alley "You're lucky I won't tell my brothers, Marco would finish you off" you said and then left the place ignoring the red haired boy who kept calling you .

You were nervous and frustrated that visit to the city had not gone as you planned, so you decided to go back to the ship earlier. Luckily you would stay a few days in that place, there would be other opportunities to explore and meet kind and fun children, no more children who irritated you. It wasn't long after returning to shore that the crew set up a small camp to store the new supplies while the ship was refueled. There, you found Marco fiddling with some papers and further away you could see his father giving orders to some other members.

You sat with a sulky face while eating a candy you bought in town, Marco looked at you curiously and approached with a characteristic smile.

"What's wrong birdie-yoi?" He smiled and sat down next to you.

"I… I met some annoying kids" you decided it was better to omit what had happened, as much as you wanted revenge, you understood that the confusion had been a misunderstanding and you didn't want your siblings worrying about something so silly.

"Wasn't that fun?" He nodded when he saw you deny it. "Don't worry, you can still meet other kids in the next few days" he smiled trying to calm you down "And if nobody wants to play with you, let's get Visa and Jozu and have a tea party, how about that?" He offered, knowing you were always happiest spending time with your brothers.

"Promise?" You looked at him sullenly.

"On my honor" he smiled as he saw you clearly getting more excited about the idea.

After a little chat, Marco had to get back to work and you decided not to bother him anymore. So to distract yourself until dinner time you decided to walk along the nearby beach and look for some shells to collect, you were still thinking about the boys from before, especially the redhead. He was looking at you with so much emotion that you couldn't help but feel your stomach churning, no one had ever looked at you like that… It was so weird and it made you so confused, what was that? Some noises in the nearby forest caught your attention, being curious that you were, so it didn't take long to approach and look for who was there.

"It 's you!" You said in recognition of seeing the red hair from before.

"Shhhh!" He asked for silence and you covered your mouth, looking around for any threat "Are your brothers here?" he asked quietly.

"They're over there…" you pointed into the distance and he seemed to agree silently "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you again" he admitted looking at the floor, his cheeks were slightly pink and you felt your body getting warm.

"Why?" You asked timidly.

"Because your punch was super cool!" His eyes sparkled "You hit Buggy right on!"

"Is he not your friend?" You asked confused.

"He is… But you were just defending yourself! He shouldn't have called you snotty… You're not snotty, you're too cute to be!" He confidently admitted.

"Do you think I'm cute?" Your cheeks were now on fire.

"I do…" he smiled shyly "I'm Shanks, what's your name?" He approached.

"(Y/n)" you smiled.

"Cool, I didn't know Whitebeard had someone in the crew with my age"

"How do you know I’m in the Whitebeard’s crew?”

"You said you had a brother named Marco, I know him! And my captain said Whitebeard was in town, so that had to be it," he said with pride in his little investigation.

"Your captain? Are you a pirate too?" You were curious now.

"Yes! I'm from the Roger Pirates!" he exclaimed with pride.

That's when your face became sad... You had heard about this crew countless times, all your life you grew up hearing that they were your father's main enemies and that you could not, under any circumstances, approach them.

"I shouldn't be talking to you!" You finally realized and tried to run, but Shanks was quick and grabbed you.

"Wait! Please! I don't want to hurt you!" He begged as he held her wrist gently but firmly.

"How can I trust you? You kidnapped me this morning! And we are sworn enemies!" You snorted.

"But I don't want to be your enemy…"

"You don't?" You let your emotions get the best of you.

"No… I… I want to be your boyfriend!" He declared with fire in his eyes.

"Boyfriend!?" You stuttered in shock, your face was hot and probably red, your eyes were wide in shock.

"Yes! You're super strong and cute!" He said without a care and then let go of your hand "Unless you didn't like me…"

"No! I did like you…!" You admitted with embarrassment "But… I never had a boyfriend… What do they do?"

"They… They" he stammered in embarrassment "They hold hands… Kiss on the cheek and go on dates!" He said with embarrassment.

"Oh!" You exclaimed with as much embarrassment as he was. You thought about holding Shanks hands and your stomach started to turn, it would also be really cool to be able to play with him.

"It's cool, isn't it? We can be sweethearts!" He tried to convince you.

"(Y/n)?! Where are you? It's getting dark and we should go back to the ship" You heard your father's voice approaching.

"Shanks?! Where are you?!" Another unknown voice came from the middle of the forest.

Before you could run away the fearsome encounter took place, behind you was your father and behind Shanks must have been the much talked about Roger, his captain. You both widened your eyes in terror when you realized what was happening, but you didn't dare open your mouth to try to explain.

"Roger"

"Newgate"

"Can you explain why your brat is talking to my child?" He quickly put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you back.

"Good question, what's up Shanks? Did you come here to talk to the old man?" The captain chuckled, he didn't seem to be mad at Shanks at all.

"I… Well…" the boy mumbled incoherently with embarrassment.

"Did he do something to you?" Your father asked, looking at you calmly, he didn't seem mad at you at all, which calmed you down a bit.

"No…" you mumbled shyly and grabbed his leg.

"Hm, maybe they just met and had a chat" Roger theorized "Or are they secretly flirting, huh Shanks? You naughty, came for the riskiest one" the man teased.

"Don't talk nonsense Roger, (y/n) can't date you, brat" His father said as if that was nonsense.

"I can't?" You asked with some sadness in your voice.

"They can’t?" It was Shanks's turn to look sadly at his captain.

The two men stared at each other in shock, they seemed to slowly understand what was going on between the two of you.

"Don't tell me… Did you like this piece of junk?" your father asked in shock and nervousness.

"Hey! No need to offend other people's children!" Roger defended "Shanks isn't that bad… He's just… He" the man shrugged.

"Like you understand" Edward rolled his eyes.

"Come on, we were young once!" Roger laughed "Let the kids date and have some fun, nothing bad will come of it"

"No" Edward gave the final verdict, but when he felt you pulling his pants and making your huge lost puppy eyes with tears threatening to fall he started to rethink the idea "(y/n)..."

"Please?" You asked "I promise I'll help more often in the kitchen if you let me..." you tried to bargain, you liked Shanks, you didn't want to be banned from dating him, even if you didn't know exactly what boyfriends did.

"Heavens… Who knew having kids would be like this…" He sighed tiredly "You guys can date" Shanks smiled "With some conditions!"

"Conditions? That's not fair!" He huffed angrily.

"Calm down little one, he's the father, he has the right to decide that, you have to earn trust and permission" Roger said quickly, Shanks seemed more resigned.

"First you need to grow up a bit, I can step on you now and I won't let such a small and young brat date my child!" he said quickly.

"Uhum!" The redhead's eyes sparkled.

"Second, you need to be strong! I will not tolerate a weakling having my child as a partner, you need to be able to face me without fear to have their hand"

"Yes! I'm going to be really strong!" He smiled looking at you and you looked away shyly.

"And finally, when you have those two things, the most important one" Shanks listened attentively "You need their acceptance" your father put his hand on your head "If you have both requirements and my child still loves you then I won't be the one going to stop you" he chuckled.

You smiled happily as you looked at Shanks who also looked confident.

"You'll see old man! I'm going to marry them!" He proclaimed with pride.

Roger just laughed praising his apprentice while your father looked frustrated and stroked your hair. You smiled thinking about how cool it would be to have Shanks as your boyfriend, you really didn't see the time to be able to be with him.

Continue...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• ────── ✦ ────── •

Notes: I hope you enjoyed! There will be a part two showing what happened to them as adults, if you can leave what you think it will motivate me a lot because I'm new here! If you want to ask for something feel free! I'll make the best imagines I can, thanks for the support and see you soon

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drinking-with-cupid · 23 days

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Are you ready for me to throw my old artwork at you? I sure hope so because there's no escape

#bird in a cage #akira's art #akira after dark #proship selfship #proselfship #proship #self ship art

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rea-grimm · 6 months

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Looking through his eyes - Mihawk pt 1

You ate a devil fruit and now you can see the world through the eyes of your soul mate.

This devil fruit is made up.

He was the strongest swordsman in the world to begin with. One of the few pirates who were ignored by the government. He could have everything he dreamed of. However, he was missing something. He searched all over the world for it. He destroyed ships like nothing out of boredom.

That is, until that fateful day when he was defeated and cursed. That day he lost his legendary sword and his human form. In return, he got wings and became a hawk. He was supposed to fly around the world in search of his purpose. Only when he finds it will he find his original form.

You didn't know if it was just a joke. You ate a devil fruit that allowed you to see through someone else's eyes. There was even a legend about it. Whoever eats this fruit will see the world through the eyes of their soul mate.

You were under the impression that it was all nonsense and that you had eaten the weakest fruit that existed.

In addition, you had the impression that the eyes through which you saw did not even belong to a person, but to some bird, because often when you looked, you saw a view from above. Never mind, it was a beautiful sight, but inside you hoped that it really could have been your soul mate's eyes. That somewhere in the wide world there is someone just for you.

You were walking through the bazaar on the small island, wondering why you didn't see anything from your other eyes. Every time you wanted to look, at the view from the sky or just like that, you were greeted by pitch-black darkness.

You passed one stand after another and nothing extra caught your eye. You stopped almost at the last one, which offered everything possible. However, it wasn't the things on display that caught your eye.

It was a larger cage that was built on top of a barrel that housed a hawk with a cap over its head. The bird had beautiful black feathers a white belly and sharp claws. Even though he couldn't see, he sat there proudly regardless of the situation.

When you were younger, your father, who was a falconer and was still alive, trained you with them. You tamed an eagle, which you then went hunting with. Maybe you could train this hawk as well, and if that doesn't work, he'd still be better off free than here in this cage.

The buyer tried to stretch the price and negotiate, but he didn't stand a chance against you.

As soon as you reached your ship, you took him out of his cage and removed his cap. He sat on your hand and looked at you with his golden eyes. It's hard to say if at that moment you created some kind of imaginary agreement between you because when you released him into the air, you expected him to fly away.

That he will fly somewhere to find his happiness. No. He flew past your ship, looked around and landed not far from you. In that moment you knew you could count on him. As he flew, you noticed that he had beautiful, reddish feathers on the inside of his wings. You have never seen such colouring in any such bird.

You were even more happy when you discovered that it was his eyes through which you saw the world. When you figured it out, you immediately started training.

You released him into the sky and moved while looking through his eyes. You felt like there was some kind of connection between the two of you because he knew exactly what to focus on and what you needed to see.

The hawk didn't have a bad time with you. And when he succeeded in something or there was an opportunity, you bought him some good meat.

You found out by accident that he had a weakness for wine and while you were drinking yours, you poured a little into his glass. Although you were worried that it would be unhealthy for him, he had a different opinion. When he got drunk like that, he sometimes let you pet him.

At the same time, you had no idea how everything in this world was connected. You were one of the best thieves in the world and you chose the sword of the most famous swordsman in the world, which disappeared without a trace, as the goal you wanted to reach the top.

His sword was subsequently confiscated by the Marines and hidden on one of their island bases. You had no idea that its owner was at your fingertips the whole time.

You left your ship on a blind part of the island that was not patrolled by marines. From there you started planning what to do next. You were studying the map of the fortress when Mihawk flew up to you and was looking at the map with you. With his help, you went through the whole island and found out the necessary things before you could go into action.

Everything had to work out perfectly. You had the timing right when the patrols were supposed to change. You had been watching them for a long time and you found out that they worked exactly like clockwork and had several blind spots between the alternations.

Once the time was right, you signalled to Mihawk and got to work. You ran with your planned route, using hawk eyes the whole time. From a height, you had a better overview of where everyone was standing and could react more easily to unexpected changes.

You avoided the guards who jumped around the corner or were late somewhere. You managed to get to the fortress undetected. You knew exactly which room the sword was in. It was just a matter of getting to the right window and picking a couple of locks before the sword was within reach.

You picked up the black sword and strapped it to your back when you noticed that there were still a few valuables to keep as souvenirs. You filled your pouch and headed back the same way.

You made it safely out of the base and stopped just behind its walls. You walked down the forest path and a hawk circled overhead before he swooped down and landed on a crossguard of the sword.

However, as soon as he touched it, there was a flash and he fell to the ground. It was strange. The sword did nothing to you. You carefully took him in your arms and walked with him.

When you were almost at the boat that was supposed to take you to the ship, you were surrounded by marines. You had the impression, based on how many were there, that they were waiting for you.

You immediately ran away. You ran into the forest and tried to shake them off. You ran to the cliff where the giant boulder was that you hid behind. From your hiding place, you heard the marines approaching and calling out to each other.

You cautiously peeked out from your hiding place. They completely cut off your escape route. However, most of the marines had their swords drawn and that worked in your favour as you were a more than passable swordsman.

You placed the hawk on the ground and noticed that he was finally coming to his senses. You removed the stolen sword from your back and stepped in front of them. You counted your enemies and got the impression that the odds were in your favour.

You put up a fight. They didn't stand a chance against you and fell to the ground one by one. You found yourself on the edge of a cliff, but you were still confident of victory.

What you didn't expect were shooters hiding in the thick undergrowth. You noticed them too late. Only when a bullet flew through your shoulder and completely knocked you over.

You lost your balance and dropped your sword. The other marines took advantage of this and one of them threw you off the cliff.

Below you was the sea. A normal person would be able to survive, but for you, the sea meant death because as a devil fruit user, you couldn't swim. You didn't imagine this ending.

You took a deep breath before breaking the surface and trying to swim. As you expected. You had the impression as if the sea held you with invisible bonds and prevented you from moving. You couldn't do anything at all. It was slowly getting dark before your eyes.

Hawk saw your defeat before it happened. He had to make a decision. The whole time he thought he needed his sword to undo the curse, but the more he thought about it, the better he felt with you.

Even in this weak form, he had the urge to save you. That's why he didn't delay and jumped into the water after you. However, during his fall, a similar light enveloped him as when he was cursed and fell into the water as a human.

PART 2

Mihawk Masterlist

#one piece #one piece x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #cursed mihawk #Looking through his eyes #Monster Piece

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aratribow · 1 month

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What would happen if yanqing died.

I need more angst about Yanqing and jing yuan pls

AHHHHH I ACTUALLY HAVE SO MANY YQ MCD WIPS? That my lazy ass never completed..

But I present you ONE polished thingy. (Don't mind me adding in a ship as well ^^)

An au where Kafka was a bit too late with the spirit whisper, where Jing Yuan was a bit too late to save Yanqing from the shard sword aimed for his chest.

Ps: Yanqing is a bio renjing child here, but Ren didn't know about his existence because he left to get milk and never came back. ^^

Warning: Yanqing MCD

The sun sets, the bird ceases its song, and the lion mourns: (title suggested by @itsredpaint )

He distantly watched as the window curtains flew with the breeze, a chill so familiar. Lying motionless in the assigned bed at the alchemy commission, Jing Yuan felt numb; if the scratchy material of the sheets felt mildly prickly – then he couldn't tell. His barely taken breaths, the only sign of his survival.

There's nothing left.

The momentary fragile trust that took everything, for just a fraction, was broken on a whim.

Another loved one lost to the winds, too young and tender for the graves, too young and tender to wonder if even the ashes will remain.

Jing Yuan was supposed to die there, die at the hands of the Lord Ravager, he had everything prepared beforehand, so why. He was not supposed to be stranded on the mortal world with nothing left of his own, he had already lost plenty, what more was there to lose anymore.

For the moment, he couldn't even recognize if the dull throbbing pain from his chest was entirely the work of Cloud Piercer or not. The lingering remains of Destruction still pulsing through his chi didn't help either.

In the quiet solitude of the night, Jing Yuan's harsh breaths kept him up, the ragged pathetic sound so bitterly familiar.

If he was just a little bit faster…just a little bit faster to save the only sun left in his life.

(The other sun had already been lost to the stars, with nothing left of her other than the telltale bravery of her ill fated luck sewed into the few remaining strands of her lilac hair.)

With a bated breath, he realised that he would never see his retainer again. He would never get to see his dust blonde hair, which, despite being deftly tied up in a high ponytail, always ended up covered in dirt from the spars. The way it gleamed with a gentle sheen of gold whenever Jing Yuan combed through the knotted strands of his freshly dried hair after a long day of work, the action soothing his nerves into a pleasant buzz of tranquillity with Yanqing nodding off on his shoulder. He would never get to see the vivid shade of molten gold in his eyes either, which would crinkle at the edges with a beaming smile at the mention of a favoured sword.

People around General Jing Yuan always remarked as to how his retainer's eyes completely resembled his own, he wondered why, for he always thought that if there was someone who could rival the Sun, it would be Yanqing. not anymore, though

Confined in the cage of his short-sighted immortality, the Divine Foresight mourned. Could he have saved his disciple, his lieutenant, his retainer, his son if only he hadn't undermined the play orchestrated by fate itself? If only he hadn't trusted his life with the phantom of a man once loved and cherished.

Seeing nothing but the blurry lines of the ceiling, he dared not to blink as he let the tears cascade down by themselves, framing his face in a warmth he could only ever dream of now.

Despite being consumed by the guilt of failing yet another, he did not fail to discern the presence that breached the privacy of the room. If not for the silent footfalls, then for the tenseness permeating from the body.

He blinked once, twice.

"He was your son, too." Jing Yuan said, voice barely audible, barely held together against the lump in his throat, threatening to choke him. If not for the dead of the night, void of any activity around, the words would have been lost, blown away by the chilled breeze coming in through the windows.

With eyes still focused on the ceiling, he noticed the body wince in his periphery.

Jing Yuan never thought that it would come to this, but now? Now he wanted this person to mourn alongside him, to share the pain that tore his barely beating heart out and reduced it to shreds. But perhaps it was even more foolish of him to think that Ren would care.

If he had, he wouldn't had left, not when Jing Yuan needed him the most, not when Jing Yuan missed him so bad it hurt, a tender wound damaged again and again with no respite, with no chance to heal, to the point where Jing Yuan felt the kindling fire die within him…and he let it.

The only time he dared to show face was to kill their son, to take away the only light left in Jng Yuan's dying world.

Because what would it matter to Ren when it was Jing Yuan who had to raise Yanqing all by himself. It would be Jing Yuan, who would ever know about Yanqing's child-like antics despite the act he proudly put up for his role as a lieutenant.

It would be Jing Yuan who would remember his pleading eyes at barely the end of the month, and despite the visible disapproval he would still fulfil the wishes, just to see a triumphant smile grace his son's face for winning a war that didn't exist in the first place.

It would be Jing Yuan who would cherish his joy at the agreement of eating outside at a favourite restaurant, relishing in the simplicity of it. It would be Jing Yuan who would know of his boundless determination, his passion, his courage to overcome obstacles at such an early age, his dream of becoming the sword champion...that would remain a dream in itself.

Perhaps…if he had kept him away from the ruthless reality, and if he had just provided the comfort of a father and not the sternness of a mentor, a General, then…perhaps-

Despite being surged by the bitter feelings, he could hardly feel it in himself to move, it seemed to further drown him within the sheets instead. Perhaps it was for the best because he couldn't tell what he wanted to do with his limbs or his body anymore. His grip on reality, failing him.

Before he could choke even further on his misery, he felt a rough bandaged hand coming to rest on his forehead – just then, he finally found his body moving as he violently recoiled against the hand. If it was the tender hand of a lover before, now, it was just the hand of a murderer that dripped with the blood of his child.

Something must have been written on his face besides the silent stream of tears, for he saw the body retreat back quicker than it came to be. He wondered if he would retreat back through the door, never to show face again, just like last time.

But Jing Yuan could care less. If Ren wished to stay for some sick godforsaken reason, just to haunt him in his last moments, then he probably should. Jing Yuan didn't have it in himself to stop him, he'd rather have that same blade plunge through his heart and seal the final deal for him.

He knew the mara wouldn't be long after this, he had lived enough already, and his son was the last straw.

"Baba.... it hurts.." Yanqing said as he had coughed out a string of viscous red that shouldn't be there, not at this age, not now.

Jing Yuan remembered the feeling of pure rage dissipating only to be replaced by unadulterated anguish instead as he collapsed to his knees beside his child. There was a gaping wound that shouldn't have been there-

No, it shouldn't have been there, and yet it was.

Yanqing had laid there, in his arms, seeping precious blood into the ruined tiles of the Dragonvista Hall. Jing Yuan recalled feeling helpless as he watched the blood gurgle from Yanqing's mouth, making it hard for him to breathe. The strength in his tender face long gone as he watched the colour receding rapidly, leaving nothing but pure fear in its wake. His son was scared, scared and he could do nothing to soothe the pain.

He used to pull his son close into his arms, secure him there and read him stories or recount tales from the past at nights Yanqing couldn't sleep. He wonders if he should have paid more attention to the beating heart against him, comforting in the constant rhythm of alive, alive, alive-

His grip on Yanqing faltered as slick blood sluggishly gushed out of the wound on his tiny body. How could someone this small lose this much blood?

Before he could’ve tried to bring his son a false sense of security, the least he could've done for his frightened child, he saw his breath even out and his eyelids flutter shut against the remaining tears streaming down his face. The tears that washed away the grime on his young face only to leave tracks of evident pain behind.

Jing Yuan couldn't do anything when yanqing slowly nudged his face into his neck, with his last remaining strength, to breathe out a final…apology.

"Baba, I'm sorry....I...failed you."

Before he could retort back to dispel the thought, (How had he failed to notice this brewing insecurity? What kind of father-) he felt the body completely slump into his arms, warmth dissipating from his body already.

Oh how he wished for the cold to be from Yanqing's frost, and not from his dying body.

He couldn't remember how long he sat there, but it must have been enough for Dan Heng to approach him and rest a (reassuring?) hand on his shoulder. He might've spoken something but Jingyuan could hear nothing over the blood boiling in his veins, over the unresponsive body in his arms, pulled close to his own to at least share a portion of his own body heat in desperate hopes of convincing himself that his son was still alive. He clutched him tightly enough to probably hurt, but hurting would have been good, it would've meant that he was still breathing.

The haze eventually cleared when he felt the dam finally break in its wake.

Jing Yuan swayed forward into his lap with his hands covering his face, hiding himself from the world, from himself, and from him. He heard a loud whimper before registering an inhumane cry of pure agony, not realising that the sound was torn out from himself.

He wanted to slam his fist into the mattress, feel the wooden frame of the bed break underneath his hands. He needed to let out the pain somehow, but he could find no purchase when he felt a pair of hands firmly, yet gently, remove his tightly clenched fingers clutching the bunched up sheets. He felt bitterly vulnerable as he struggled against the firm hold, pushing him back down onto the bed, the rough material of the bandage grating against his wrists. He cried out at the cruelty that denied him the simple notion of curling in on himself, the need in his body to clutch something, someone close against him growing stronger by the second. What more could Ren want from him?

"LEAVE!” He lashed out, sobbing with broken hiccups. He hated how exposed he felt, having nowhere to hide his face.

"Leave like you always did! Leave like you were always meant to, because leaving is the only thing you are good at-"

The words promptly got stuck in his throat though, as he distinctly felt a drop of tear hitting his face. The following whimper made Jingyuan finally turn back to gaze into Ren's contorted face, his lips pulled into a wobbling snarl with his brows tightly knit together. Ren hovered over him as gold met red and more tears struck his skin as they emerged from eyes barely kept open.

Despite a faint voice in his head urging him to wipe away tears if his past lover, Jing Yuan couldn't find it in himself to be merciful for this once. He has shown enough mercy in this lifetime, he wanted to be selfish for once.

"You killed our son, Ren. It was me who had raised him, and now it again has to be me....to see through his funeral." Jing Yuan weeped, still reeling from the onslaught of guilt. “How many more Ren? How many more?”

If Jing Yuan went overboard with his demands, then he did. The patience meticulously crafted over the years shattering in mere seconds.

He saw Ren violently wince, and it…shouldn't have been as satisfactory as it was, but he couldn't deny the cruel satisfaction of watching the murderer collapse under the realisation of his own crimes. Perhaps this is what Ren wanted to feel as well when he chased Dan Heng across the universe.

Ren finally left the hold around his wrists as he sank onto the ground to his knees, his face dejectedly pushed into the mattress, going completely still despite a hand still faintly holding onto Jing Yuan's own. If it was an apology, then Jing Yuan couldn't tell.

#aratribow #my...writing?#honkai star rail #jing yuan #hsr jing yuan #hsr blade #jingren #yanqing #jing yuan and yanqing #jing yuan is YQ'S PARENT #me @ ren: *how does it feel to kill your own kid?*#renjing with possibly no happy ending i suppose #i love yq mcd because it puts his father through another bouts of severe depression and what ifs

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